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realcatalina · 3 months

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This is interesting info about languages Elizabeth of York spoke

This is excerpt from Most pleasant song of lady Bessy, and it is the part where Bessy(Elizabeth of York) manages to convince Lord Stanley to betray Richard and to contact Henry Tudor.

But he is scared, he thinks he cannot trust any scribe to write essentially treason. But Elizabeth turns around and says-oh I can write the letter. My father had me and my sister Cecily taught by a man from London. I can write well, in both English and French, and SPANISH!

(It is bit strange that the poem doesnt mention Latin, though correspondence from late 1490s strongly suggest Elizabeth knew Latin grammar too. But, we cannot rule out she learnt later than 1484/5. Or maybe she wasnt very good yet in that time and later gained confidence. )

However Bessy knowing Old Spanish/Castilian would make sense if she was intended to wed to Iberian peninsula. But we only ever hear about Richard III intending to wed her to Portuguese royal family. His reign is too short time for her to learn the languaeg.

I never heard that there were any plans to marry her to Spain specifically. But maybe as with Catherine of Aragon learning French to use at English court, maybe Elizabeth of York was learning Spanish to use at Portuguese court. Because it would make things easier for her at least a bit.

If it was true it might have indicate Edward IV already intended her for Portugal.

It is bit weird that the matter(her spanish) didnt get brought up later. If Elizabeth of York was confident enough to write in Spanish, why not write to spanish royals in her own hand in Spanish? Why not converse with Catherine of Aragon in Spanish? Could it simply not get into records?

It is but strange that only spanish wikipedia mentions Elizabeth's education. As source there is book Elizabeth of York by Arlene Okerlund.

But this what it says on their wiki:

When she was bethrohed to dauphin, her father arranged her to have language tutors from France, Italy and Spain.

Although she spoke French, it was not fluently.

(-yeah, in comparison to Henry VII probably not. He was master level.)

Schollars from Oxford taught her classics and experts in calligraphy(handwritting) from Scriptoria at Westminster Abbey instructed her. In other words she had greater education than most men in 15th century(except those ment for church), let alone a woman.

She was also instructed to read and write in English, learnt math, household management, embroidery or sewing, horse-riding, music, and dancing.

You know on first glance it looks overexagerated, but it would make sense given how educated Henry VIII was and his upbringing was mostly dedided by his mother.

If she was so well-educated as woman, it would make sense her son got even better education.

I know the poem might be propaganda. Just sneaking out to meet Stanley in private, would be very difficult. Although if both were at court...maybe. Elizabeth seems to have been given greater deal of freedom by Richard at court, than you would expect. Considering the man had her mother proclaimed whore, Elizabeth and her siblings bastards, and her brothers "dissappeared" in his "care".

But still it was originally written in late 15th century, likely after 1487/8 when Cecily became lady Welles. (First surviving written versions are from c.1600, it was passed on orally it seems-it was a song.) But i dont think we can just throw it away.

But we aware that part of the poem is Elizabeth pleading is her telling Stanley her uncle was making plans to poison his own wife and son.(Which if true, would mean he was starking mad.)

-But it might be that part of the poem is true and part is propaganda.

But the poem is wonderfully written and the dialogs are so logical.

Elizabeth keeps trying to remind Stanley that his titles, lands were given to him by her father and that Richard had no right to the throne, that her brothers disappeared and were not even buried in any sacred ground, that Richard got rid of his original supporters and he might well get rid of Stanley after his usefullness expires.

And he keeps telling her no, there is no real support for anybody else and thinks overthrowing him are foolish dreams etc.

But she keeps going. And revealing more. And big part of it is her saying her uncle wants her to come to his chamber and be his love and wife. And she is extremely oposed to the idea. I mean she lists all the suffering she would rather endure...than to come to her uncle's chamber.

Towards end of her pleading, when Stanley keeps rejecting to help her and wants her to leave, she starts crying, she throws away her headwear and says they will find her body in Thames, where she will drown, her bones shall lay on sand, fishes will feed upon her and that will be her destiny.

And that is what breaks Stanley.

There is of course more-it is very long poem. But I get why currently with the Ricardians trying to restore Richards image this is not being spread around. Because this was probbaly major inspiration source behind Shakespear's Richard III.

-of course it is entirely possible this part of poem is overexagerating/lying. Perhaps other parts too.

Tell me what you think, do you think it is possible she spoke Spanish?

#tudor history #elizabeth of york #tudor poetry

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moriartyluver · 1 year

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FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER IV

FOLLOWING THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY, (name) returned to london and much to her delight, she had finally, for the first time since her debutante ball, not had the need to socialise amongst the ton. This was because it was common Victorian etiquette for the bride-to-be to not appear in public (except for wedding preparations) or at social gatherings.

This meant she could finally allocate more time to studying to achieve the title of not only the first woman in Britain to be awarded a degree, but also the first female professor.

She had realised, from her time teaching her servants various topics, that her love for teaching at a greater level must be pursued. The negative of this, was that William James Moriarty wanted the exact same thing.

Ever since their first encounter at the library or the first time (name) felt true hatred for the male, they had a strange ongoing rivalry between each other. That's why it was so difficult for (name) to accept her position as William's future wife.

Perhaps it was because he represented, at least to her, the fact that she would never be enough in the eyes of the nobility solely because she was a foreign woman, even though she was just as intelligent as William. This was first evident to her when William had received an award for the best student in the mathematics department but when she had looked further into William's work, she found she had done at least three more pieces of extra credit work than he had, which surely would have guaranteed her the award considering in total, all their tests and exams had added up to mean that the two of them were equal in academics.

Each time william would beat her, she would try to level the playing field because if she was to be beaten in intellect by anyone for the first time, it would have to be in a situation where they were both equal. If any other way, she would not be satisfied.

Poor young William had somehow gotten roped into this and it had become routine after every exam or every report for (name) to bombard him on questions regarding his scores or the methods he would use to solve equations. But instead of being creeped out by her behaviour even though they had only talked once properly before, he decided to play along.

Shortly after, after each time their professor would hand their test papers back, they would race to one another, hoping for the higher score. Sometimes William would get a mark or two more and sometimes it would be reversed but what was more contradictory were their reactions.

If (name) had lost, she would (somewhat politely) take William's paper and compare each answer to make sure it had been marked fairly, and then obsessively correct each of her wrongly marked questions. Although it would have been effective to ask for help from William, she never did and instead thrust the paper into his chest and told him to stop rubbing it in.

(Name) would often tell herself that William would simply not understand how it would feel to be as inferior to her as she was to him. Not because she was less intelligent but because it felt like something was blocking her off from those awards William would receive.

William, on the other hand would ask (name) for help each time he would get a question wrong and they would sit together in the library for hours on end whilst (name) attempted to explain a simple question to him. Sometimes she wondered if he was actually smart or if he had cheated on his tests because each time they held these tutor sessions, William just seemed to not know anything's about maths. Hell, (name) once had to teach William how to rearrange an equation even though he seemed to be very much capable.

Strangely, it never had seemed like william had given (name ha negative impression, at least from what he knew. When he talked to Albert about the strange situation, he was equally confused as to why the girl, who he had met before when he would go looking for a missing William after school hours, would hate such a kind hearted (at least on the surface) boy.

Had she not seen the smiles William would give her in the halls or the attempts he had made to eat with her at lunch or the little gifts he would secretly have delivered to her just to see a small smile on her face or even when they graduated and when it was silent as (name) rose to the stage to receive her diploma, William was the first to clap (in an uncharacteristically enthusiastic manner), almost cataclysmically causing the entire crowd to erupt in cheers? Was she being purposely blind? Was that it?

Of course, this rivalry had still not ended to this day, even though they were engaged and university graduates. They had been interacted on a minimum of a weekly basis since they were sixteen, and with (name)'s curiosity, it was only a matter of time before she discovered the true nature of his upbringing and origins.

Once she had found that strange little legal document about the boy she knew of as a privileged noble organising a court case against a noble as a mere orphan, everything had suddenly changed and the girl who wished to live in peace once university was over, had somehow summoned William to involve himself in every aspect of her life.

Although, she was partially at fault for this. When she had met William's younger brother and realised the strange resemblance William shared with Louis, who was supposedly his adopted brother, along with the reports of the second Moriarty son suddenly switching after his family died, it was clear to her almost instantly.

William was not the real William.

Upon realising this, 18 year old (name) found William in the library one day and pinned him to the bookshelf for a minute before whispering to the surprised boy.

"I know who you are"

She had refused to elaborate but William had easily caught on that she knew about everything. He wouldn't expect her to expose him for this nor use this for blackmailing material so why did she insist on involving herself in his past. That it how William viewed it anyways.

As (name) looked back on her teenage years, she fidgeted with her gold engagement ring on her finger, twisting it around and eventually removing it to admire the engraving on the inside and the little diamond on the top as she couldn't help but allow a small smile make its way onto her lips.

♡ W. J. M ♡

A month ago, he had given this beautiful yet simple ring to her when he had proposed to her in the park but the real engagement ring was on her middle finger. Another gold ring but instead, the gem on it was red. That was the first ring William had given to her when they proposed the contract marriage.

(Name) frowned as she recalled that evening.

She had taken a carriage to the Moriarty manor in London after receiving a letter from William, requesting her presence as he had done for the past year or so. Both him and Albert, who had been dragged into William's goal, would find every opportunity to convince Lady (name) to join them in their aim to fix the world. (Name), on the other hand, would reject each of William's advances, no matter how extreme he would get.

The (eye colour) eyed girl had finally started getting used to William's attempts to persuade (name) to join him until he ended up in her bedroom one night whilst she was sleeping. She wouldn't admit it but once she awoke, she was terrified he was a strange kidnapper or murderer. Not that he wasn't a kidnapper or murderer but at least he wasn't a stranger to her (!)

(Name) lay sound asleep in her bed, unaware that William was currently scaling her walls and climbing into her room through her balcony. Once he had managed to sneak into her bedchamber, he had expected to see (name) at her desk, awake and working as usual but instead saw her resting peacefully in her bed for once.

He slowly approached her to affirm his observation, and definitely not because he felt great peace even seeing her gentle face.

William had initially wanted to try to convince (name) to join his organisation once again like he had done multiple times before but was instead blessed to see the usually annoyed lady (name) asleep on her side in bed, clutching a pillow in her hands and laying in her nightgown.

The man kneeled down at her side and observe her face closely. She was actually quite beautiful when she wasn't scowling all the time. Not that he hadn't seen this before.He had occasionally seen (name) smiling and laughing to others and even himself with a genuine expression.

(Name) tossed and turned, eventually her eyelids had fluttered open and she saw William's shadowed figure watching her. She let out a yell and reached over for his hands, then flipped him onto her bed and climbed on top of him as she took a large knife from her drawer. Once her eyes had finally adjusted to being awake, she realised the man beneath her was William.

"I knew it! You wanted me dead all along!" She exclaimed as she leaned closer to his face, pressing her knife to his neck as William’s eyes widened momentarily. He thanked the darkness for hiding his usually pale but now reddened cheeks. “I never deemed you pathetic enough to try and use my resting as an opportunity to murder me, but I suppose I was wrong for once..!!”

“I wasn’t here to kill you, Lady (name),” William assured her but was interrupted by the previously distant footsteps growing louder until the door busted open to reveal Josephine in her nightgown stood at the door

“My lady! I heard a yell, are you alright-“ she asked quickly until she realised the suggestive position that her lady was in with Lord William, who she had already met at this point, lying beneath her with a flustered expression. The knife that (name) held was out of view so young Josephine immediately took it that this was a late night rendezvous and that yell was possibly not out of fear.

The brunette shut the door and left instantly, leaving the pair in an awkward silence.

The lady grew embarrassed and rose from her position as William got up off the bed and stood in front of her, still in awe as to what had just happened. (Name), who was furious, began walking, rather intimidatingly, towards William who walked backwards, calmly explaining why he was there but she wasn’t having any of it.

Once they had reached the balcony, where William’s back was pressed against the railing and (name) only inches away from him as she continued to threaten to kill him.

“I was only here to convince you once more to join myself and my brothers in our endeavours-“

“Endeavours my eye!” (Name) scowled. “Have you no idea how frightened I felt seeing a strange man watch me as I slept?!”

“How would I even kill you if I were not carrying any weapons?” William challenged as he tried to prove his innocence.

“With your bare hands? I’m very well aware of your physical strength and your physique is enough to prove that!” She hissed as she grabbed onto William’s arm. She could feel his pulse racing faster than ever.

Before the blond could utter another stammering word, she pushed him off the balcony on the second floor and watched as he fell onto the beds of sweet William’s (which she found hilariously coincidental) with a groan.

Once she turned around, ready to fall back asleep with the newfound peace of inflicting harm onto the man she hated so, Josephine came knocking on the door to apologise but was surprised to see that William was nowhere to be found. When she brought this up to the smiling woman, she gestured to the balcony and said she had gotten rid of him.

Josephine, with her kind heart, rushed over to the balcony and looked down to see Lord William on the ground with an oddly blissful expression on his features as he lay, unable to move.

Without telling her lady, she quickly sent a telegram to the Moriarty manor to have one of Lord William’s brothers come to pick him up whilst she sent the physician to check on the man who had a fracture in his leg. Nothing too extreme but it would take some time to fully heal and all the while, (name) was sleeping like a baby as if she hadn’t just attempted murder.

A/N: not fl sleeping right after she pushed William off a balcony. He’s lucky he didn’t break his leg bc god damn that must’ve hurt. Poor Josephine having to deal with her mistress’ shenanigans

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #mtp william #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuumori x reader #—false lovers 💋

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grandmaster-anne · 2 years

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Court Circular | 8th February 2023

Buckingham Palace

The King and The Queen Consort this morning visited Altab Ali Park, Adler Street, London E1, and were received by His Majesty’s Lord-Lieutenant of Greater London (Sir Kenneth Olisa). His Majesty, escorted by the Joint Founder of British Bangladeshi Power and Inspiration (Ms Ayesha Qureshi), and Her Majesty, escorted by Mr Abdal Ullah (Joint Founder), viewed the Park and met members of the local community. The King and The Queen Consort afterwards visited Brick Lane, London E2, and, having been received by Her Excellency the High Commissioner of Bangladesh (Ms Saida Muna Tasneem), walked along Brick Lane meeting representatives of the local community. Their Majesties subsequently visited Brick Lane Mosque, were received by the Treasurer of Brick Lane Mosque Trust (Mr Hamidur Rahman Choudhury) and met members from faith, business, charity and Covid-19-impacted communities. The King this afternoon opened a new frontline medical teaching hub at the University of East London, Stratford Campus, Water Lane, London E15, to mark the University’s One Hundred and Twenty Fifth Anniversary, and was received by the Chancellor (Mr Shabir Randeree) and Mr John Garwood (Chairman of the Board of Governors). His Majesty, escorted by Professor Amanda Broderick (Vice Chancellor and President), toured the Hospital and Primary Care Training Hub, visiting the Baby Development Laboratory, the Intensive Care Ward and the Interdisciplinary Healthcare Ward and meeting students. The King afterwards viewed an Environmental Sustainability Exhibition in the Great Hall and met students and tutors. The President of Ukraine later visited His Majesty. The Queen Consort, Colonel-in-Chief, The Rifles, this afternoon received General Sir Patrick Sanders (Colonel Commandant).

Kensington Palace

The Princess of Wales, Patron, Captain Harpreet Chandi’s Solo Antarctic Expedition, this morning visited Landau Forte College, Fox Street, Derby, and was received by His Majesty’s Lord-Lieutenant of Derbyshire (Mrs Elizabeth Fothergill).

St James’s Palace

The Countess of Wessex, Patron, the Scar Free Foundation, this morning visited the Royal College of Surgeons of England, 38-43 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London, WC2, to mark the United Nations International Women and Girls in Science Day, and was received by Ms. Geraldine Norris (Deputy Lieutenant of Greater London). Her Royal Highness, Patron, Toronto General and Western Hospital, this afternoon held a Meeting. The Countess of Wessex, Chairman, Women in Business Committee, The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, later chaired a Meeting at Buckingham Palace.

St James’s Palace

The Princess Royal, Patron, Scottish Rugby Union, Royal Patron, Motor Neurone Disease Association, and Royal Patron, MND Scotland, accompanied by Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, today started the My Name’5 Doddie Foundation Charity Cycle Ride at Kingsholm Rugby Ground, Kingsholm Road, Gloucester, and was received by Mr Philip Vickery (Deputy Lieutenant of Gloucestershire).

Kensington Palace

The Duchess of Gloucester, Colonel-in-Chief, Royal Army Dental Corps, today received Colonel Irene Amberton upon relinquishing her appointment as Colonel Commandant and Major General Ewan Carmichael upon assuming the appointment.

#court circular #princess anne #princess royal #tim laurence #king charles iii #queen camilla #catherine princess of wales #countess of wessex #duchess of gloucester #british royal family

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magnusxfelthambrown · 2 years

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MAGNUS FELTHAM-BROWN - STATS

age: thirty-four face claim: jonathan bailey height: 5'11" / 1.80m hair color: dark brown eye color: dark brown occupation: fashion designer relationship status: married to Logan Brown (open marriage)

GETTING PERSONAL

positive traits: hardworking, creative, eloquent negative traits: demanding, vain, impatient build: slim, lean position: power bottom, dominant-leaning kinks: power play, pain play, multiple partners, orgasm control/denial [giving], ass worship [receiving], marking, rough sex, dirty talk, public sex, voyeurism anti-kinks: daddy kink, watersports, vanilla sex

BIOGRAPHY

No silver spoon had ever been fed to Magnus; he built his wealth and success from the ground up, putting blood, sweat and tears into every step along the way. Born the youngest of five in a working-class family in the suburbs of London, his childhood had been modest at best, his parents making barely enough money to scrape by while avoiding poverty. From an early age, Magnus felt like he was born for greater things, bound to achieve fame and success. His talent did manifest early: Even before he learned how to properly read and write, the boy showed great artistic abilities, and a fascination for colors, shapes, and the beauty one could create with them. By the time he hit puberty, there was no doubt left in him that his purpose was to pursue a career in fashion. The reactions, at the time, were fairly reluctant; Magnus's parents were concerned that a career in design was not going to be sustainable even for someone with his talent, and the kids at school began early on to bully the boy and call him gay. As it turned out, they were indeed correct about that fact, but either way Magnus was determined, and he couldn't have given less of a fuck about the kids at school anyway.

Unwilling to let anybody convince him otherwise, the young man pursued his goal, managing to successfully apply for a scholarship at Britain's most prestigious school for fashion design. It was right after graduation that the contact to most of his family cooled off quite a bit; nearly none of them had fully supported his talent, and Magnus had already decided that he couldn't use any roadblocks in his life. He took the same approach with friends and even lovers; anybody who threatened to slow him down on his way to success was quickly out of the picture. Throughout his education, the aspiring designer became quickly known for being insanely gifted, but also incredibly difficult to be around at times. Magnus would argue with professors who disagreed with his ideas, would force his will on group projects, and frustrate tutors by focusing less on his theoretical studies and more on his personal project: His very first own collection.

Three months before graduation from fashion school, he had accomplished the task indeed: Under the annoyed eyes of his fellow students, but with acclaim from industry experts and even the reluctant acknowledgment of his teachers, Magnus presented his first collection. The quality of his designs soon attracted attention, and word spread within the industry of a rising new talent in high-class and couture menswear. The following spring, he showed at London Fashion Week, and soon the young designer had established himself as a new star within the fashion world. Celebrities began to request garments, the top male models started walking the runway in his clothes. With the success, so grew Magnus's ego; he was infamously difficult to work with, his demanding nature only surpassed by his talent in design. His private life was rumored to be similarly turbulent: While several affairs involving his person were rumored, apparently no lover stuck around long, mostly because he deemed them not up to par to keep up.

2016 was the year that would change, as he received a request to design a custom suit for one of the sexiest men in the world, if media was to be believed: Logan Brown, a world-class athlete who had recently publicly come out. Magnus was not impressed; he didn't follow sports and couldn't care less about some athlete confessing his sexuality. Nonetheless, he met with the man, and soon he realized he'd possibly finally met his match. The chemistry was instant between the two; Logan's confidence also bordered on arrogance, but somehow the explosive combination of their personalities mixed perfectly. Soon the tabloids presented the two as the newest celebrity power couple, although they kept their relationship open due to both of their jobs including so much travel and both of them very much still enjoying to sleep around. Even their wedding two years later did not change anything about that.

With a gorgeous husband and a successful career, Magnus was almost starting to feel bored, looking for the next excitement that would serve to inspire him. Almost like a divine sign (if he actually believed in God), an invitation reached him - as well as Logan - from the Haus of Perses, an exclusive resort for men to pursue their desires and live out their fantasies. Good thing Magnus had just been looking for a vacation spot...

#( stats )#( biography )

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shadowfromthestarlight · 2 years

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Isaac Watts (1674-1748) Appreciation Post

I read up on the brilliant hymnwriter whose songs we still sing today, even though we usually don’t know who wrote them!

The Wikipedia description of his background:

Watts was born in Southampton, Hampshire, England, in 1674 and was brought up in the home of a committed religious nonconformist; his father, also Isaac Watts, had been incarcerated twice for his views. Watts had a classical education at King Edward VI School, Southampton, learning Latin, Greek, and Hebrew.

Watts displayed a propensity for rhyme from an early age. He was once asked why he had his eyes open during prayers, to which he responded:

A little mouse for want of stairs ran up a rope to say its prayers.

He received corporal punishment for this, to which he cried:

O father, father, pity take And I will no more verses make.

Watts could not attend Oxford or Cambridge because he was a nonconformist and these universities were restricted to Anglicans—as were government positions at the time. He went to the Dissenting Academy at Stoke Newington in 1690. Much of the remainder of his life centred on that village, which is now part of Inner London.

Following his education, Watts was called as pastor of a large independent chapel in London, Mark Lane Congregational Chapel, where he helped train preachers, despite his poor health. He held religious opinions that were more nondenominational or ecumenical than was common for a nonconformist Congregationalist. He had a greater interest in promoting education and scholarship than preaching for any particular sect.

Watts took work as a private tutor and lived with the nonconformist Hartopp family at Fleetwood House on Church Street in Stoke Newington. Through them, he became acquainted with their immediate neighbours Sir Thomas Abney and Lady Mary. He eventually lived for a total of 36 years in the Abney household, most of the time at Abney House, their second residence. (Lady Mary had inherited the manor of Stoke Newington in 1701 from her late brother Thomas Gunston.)

On the death of Sir Thomas Abney in 1722, his widow Lady Mary and her unmarried daughter Elizabeth moved all her household to Abney House from Hertfordshire, and she invited Watts to continue with them. He particularly enjoyed the grounds at Abney Park, which Lady Mary planted with two elm walks leading down to an island heronry in the Hackney Brook, and he often sought inspiration there for the many books and hymns that he wrote.

Watts lived at Abney Hall in Stoke Newington until his death in 1748; he was buried in Bunhill Fields. He left an extensive legacy of hymns, treatises, educational works, and essays. His work was influential amongst nonconformist independents and religious revivalists of the 18th century, such as Philip Doddridge, who dedicated his best-known work to Watts.

The title page of Isaac Watts' "Guide to Prayer", fourth edition, 1725

Sacred music scholars Stephen Marini, Denny Prutow and Michael LeFebvre describe the ways in which Watts contributed to English hymnody and the previous tradition of the Church. Watts led the change in practice by including new poetry for "original songs of Christian experience" to be used in worship, according to Marini.The older tradition was based on the poetry of the Bible: the Psalms. According to LeFebvre, Psalms had been sung by God's people from the time of King David, who with a large staff over many years assembled the complete book of Psalms in a form appropriate for singing (by the Levites, during Temple sacrifices at the time). The practice of singing Psalms in worship was continued by Biblical command in the New Testament Church from its beginnings in Acts through the time of Watts, as documented by Prutow. The teachings of 16th-century Reformation leaders such as John Calvin, who translated the Psalms in the vernacular for congregational singing, followed this historic worship practice. Watts was not the first Protestant to promote the singing of hymns; however, his prolific hymn writing helped usher in a new era of English worship as many other poets followed in his path.

Watts also introduced a new way of rendering the Psalms in verse for church services, proposing that they be adapted for hymns with a specifically Christian perspective. As Watts put it in the title of his 1719 metrical Psalter, the Psalms should be "imitated in the language of the New Testament." Besides writing hymns, Isaac Watts was also a theologian and logician, writing books and essays on these subjects.

From the Christianity Today article:

Young Isaac showed genius early. He was learning Latin by age 4, Greek at 9, French (which he took up to converse with his refugee neighbors) at 11, and Hebrew at 13. Several wealthy townspeople offered to pay for his university education at Oxford or Cambridge, which would have led him into Anglican ministry. Isaac refused and at 16 went to London to study at a leading Nonconformist academy. Upon graduation, he spent five years as a private tutor.

In 1702 he became pastor of London's Mark Lane Independent (i.e. Congregational) Chapel, then one of the city's most influential independent churches. But the following year, he began suffering from psychiatric illness that would plague him for the rest of his life. He had to pass off more and more of his work to his assistant and eventually resigned in 1712.

Though German Lutherans had been singing hymns for 100 years, John Calvin had urged his followers to sing only metrical psalms; English Protestants had followed Calvin's lead.

Watts's 1707 publication of Hymns and Spiritual Songs technically wasn't a collection of hymns or metrical psalms, but it was a collection of consequence. In fact, it contained what would become some of the most popular English hymns of all time, such as "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross."

Watts didn't reject metrical psalms; he simply wanted to see them more impassioned. "They ought to be translated in such a manner as we have reason to believe David would have composed them if he had lived in our day," he wrote. Psalms of David Imitated in the Language of the New Testament followed in 1719.

Many of his English colleagues couldn't recognize these translations. How could "Joy to the World" really be Psalm 98? Or "Jesus Shall Reign Where'er the Sun" be Psalm 72>, or "O God Our Help in Ages Past" be Psalm 90?

Watts was unapologetic, arguing that he deliberately omitted several psalms and large parts of others, keeping portions "as might easily and naturally be accommodated to the various occasions of Christian life, or at least might afford us some beautiful allusions to Christian affairs." Furthermore, where the psalmist fought with personal enemies, Watts turned the biblical invective against spiritual adversaries: sin, Satan, and temptation. Finally, he said, "Where the flights of his faith and love are sublime, I have often sunk the expressions within the reach of an ordinary Christian."

Such looseness brought criticism. "Christian congregations have shut out divinely inspired psalms and taken in Watts's flights of fancy," protested one detractor. Others dubbed the new songs "Watts's whims."

But after church splits, pastor firings, and other arguments, Watts's paraphrases won out. "He was the first who taught the Dissenters to write and speak like other men, by showing them that elegance might consist with piety," wrote the famed lexicographer (and Watts's contemporary) Samuel Johnson.

More than a poet, however, Watts was also a scholar of wide reputation, especially in his later years. He wrote nearly 30 theological treatises; essays on psychology, astronomy, and philosophy; three volumes of sermons; the first children's hymnal; and a textbook on logic that served as a standard work on the subject for generations.

But his poetry remains his lasting legacy and earned him acclaim on both sides of the Atlantic. Benjamin Franklin published his hymnal, Cotton Mather maintained a long correspondence, and John Wesley acknowledged him as a genius.

Songs he’s known for:

Joy to the World O God Our Help in Ages Past I Sing the Mighty Power of God When I Can Read My Title Clear O God Beyond All Praising

And a lot more can be found here.

#history crushes #isaac watts #enlightenment #protestantism #british history #hymns

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avangelines · 2 years

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𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑨𝑵 𝑻𝑶 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑺. 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑫. 𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑫 𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑶, 𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫 𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑩𝑬𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑽𝑰𝑮𝑰𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯. 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑫 𝑨 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑶 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑩𝑬 𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑻.

PINTEREST. CONNECTIONS.

thirty-four. british-born, american-raised film & stage actress with occasional production credits.

she grows up between london and a sprawling estate in the countryside. her father believes in strong moral values, which meant living in a multi-million dollar manor in a small town populated by off-branches of nobility for greater spans of time than in the multi-million dollar townhouse in a metropolitan city filled with offspring of the affluent. strong moral values meant traditional english values, which in turn meant classism and nationalism intersecting with a hefty pound of prejudice. it meant - more precisely, most specifically - grumbling at modernity and cities with ever-lengthening traffic, supporting the crown and teaching your daughter to sit straight and act pretty. that they move to america when ava is nine alters none of these things.

the marriage that produces ava is not a secondary one, but it is late-stage for the head of household. hector castro is already into his forties when he marries the daughter of a longtime business and golf partner, making him significantly older than the average first-time father when ava is born. so she grows up a generation behind her peers: bearing their same age, but being raised into a woman meant for decades earlier.

she is allowed - and certainly expected - to be smart, talented, and charming. ava was to exert herself in school and spend her extracurricular hours learning that which would further her through private tutors: etiquette, piano, elocution, dance, and other disciplines of that ilk. she knew she was meant to succeed, but in certain specified areas; despite work ethic being instilled, the idea of work itself - or what careers would be accepted - was never directly mentioned. acting, when it’s brought up, is quickly discarded as a thing for girls of lesser means.

despite her ability to part every room she walks into like your profile is a knife’s edge, she’s too soft a girl — everything ava brushes up against bruises. she’s the prettiest girl in school, and the one over, and probably even the one after that, but like kidskin gloves turned inside out, she gives the most vulnerable bits to the world at first glance. you cry for everyone: strangers on the news, friends made in the bathroom at house parties, yourself. every girl is your best friend, every handsome man is your most beloved. it’s exhausting, falling in love so much, but father doesn’t care for it and mother says next to nothing at all.

the happiest years of her life are those at the royal academy of dramatic arts, a handful of time stolen as a bargain from her father’s home: if you’re going to make a fool out of me on camera, you will do so with proper training. she lives in a flat with two roommates not for the sake of budget, but the ability to come home to others. free of the stifling eye of her father and not yet introduced to the suffocating hand of hollywood, this is perhaps the last time ava was purely herself.

as far as western celebrities go, she’s undeniably a-list. often described (for pr purposes as much as anything else) as among the last great movie stars. she’s never worked in television, is largely inaccessible through social media, and because of coming from money has never had to accept anything less than a prestige project. with undeniable box office draw combined with her aesthetic and old hollywood mannerisms, it’s an easily understandable billing.

plenty of contradiction to her: decides to change her life every midnight, but is consistently obsessive about improving herself. reads proust and whitman and joyce repeatedly in the hopes of expanding her mental horizons. sensitive, delicate heart. loves hard, cries easy. thinks she’s no good.

MISC.

her first notable role was shoshanna in inglourious basterds, but generally speaking her Big Break is considered to have happened in 2012-13. she played selina kyle in 2012's the dark knight rises, which catapulted her to box office audiences across the world, but followed it up with a massively 3-film year in 2013, which solidified her place in film canon.

notable film roles include but aren’t limited to: shoshanna in inglourious basterds (2008), naomi lapaglia in the wolf of wall street (2013), daisy buchanan in the great gatsby (2013), deeanna moran in hail, caesar! (2016), mia in la la land (2016), joi in blade runner 2049 (2017), sharon tate in once upon a time in hollywood (2019), marion davies in mank (2020), mrs. de winter in rebecca (2020), molly cahill in nightmare alley (2021), madeleine swann in spectre (2015) and no time to die (2021), and nellie laroy in babylon (2022). her upcoming projects include barbie (her first comedy!!) and lady margot in dune part 2

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: marilyn monroe (obviously); kelly canter (country strong); holly golightly (breakfast at tiffany’s); daisy buchanan (the great gatsby); delysia lafosse (miss pettigrew lives for a day).

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mastermindxsl · 6 months

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Online Biology Tutors

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edvoro · 6 months

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Why do you need a Project Management Certification?

Every organization aims to manage and execute project workflows efficiently, highlighting the essential role of project managers. But to reach this point, project managers must have a certain level of competence, experience, and education in project management principles and practices. Over the next eight years, this sector is expected to grow by 33%, paving the way for 22 million new jobs by 2027.

A career in project management is very promising, with a Bachelor's degree serving as the foundation. However, pursuing higher education and professional certification can significantly enhance your candidacy among colleagues competing for the same position.

Let's explore the advantages of undertaking a project management certification course.

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With a project management certification from London, you will fulfil the gold standard of a highly qualified project manager in the eyes of employers, clients and colleagues.

#project management topics #project management certification from London #edvoro #project management certificate #uk accredited course

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divinetutors · 1 year

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Achieve Success with Divine Tutors: Best Economics Tutor Online

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stelliumastrology · 1 year

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EP142 WTF IS ASTROLOGY? Divination, Prophecy, Prediction & Prognostication with Richard Swatton

When in the mindset of reading the horoscope, we access in a different state of mind. This state allows us to be in touch with a peripheral field of information.

So what exactly is it we're doing when working with astrology and how does it produce such accurate results?

To quote today’s guest, Richard Swatton: “you can’t predict technique – you can have techniques of prediction but the prediction arrives in the moment”

During this episode Richard and I discuss the other-worldly aspects of astrology, delving into the eighth house depths of a subject already coaxing us deeper into the realms of the subconscious.

Richard has lead many different paths in this lifetime: Musician, Occultist, Psychotherapist, Astrologer and Tutor at the London School of Astrology.

He is also the Author of Symbol to Substance and his new book The Horary Process: A Magical Approach to an Ancient Art, is due to be published at the end of 2023.

You'll understand why I feel so blessed to have learned at the LSA when you hear how fascinating, intelligent and inspiring Richard is.

Without wanting to sound like Hannibal Lecter, what I wouldn’t give for a slice of that brain... LOL.

How do you feel viewing astrology as a divinatory art?

TIMESTAMPS

CHART

Neptune appears: 6/7/21, Newhaven, UK, 09:00 GMT

LINKS

Watch this episode: https://youtu.be/dNqDsIMrrxM

The Astrology Squad https://astrologysquad.com/

From Symbol to Substance: Training the Astrological Intuition by Richard Swatton https://www.amazon.co.uk/Symbol-Substance-Training-Astrological-Intuition/dp/1516984447

The Horary Process: A Magical Approach to an Ancient Art contact: [email protected]

Saturn by Liz Greene https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/603038.Saturn

Books by Dane Rudhyar https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/417055.Dane_Rudhyar

Books by Howard Sasportas https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/309821.Howard_Sasportas

Books by Stephen Arroyo https://www.goodreads.com/search?q=stephen+arroyo&qid=JCD35IIqxU

Ptolemy's Centiloquium https://www.skyscript.co.uk/centiloquium1.html

Tetrobiblos by Claudius Ptolemy https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Tetrabiblos

Ptolemy https://www.astro.com/astrowiki/en/Ptolemy

Christian Astrology by William Lilley https://archive.org/details/ChristianAstrologyByWilliamLilly/mode/2up

Christian Astrology retyped by Deb Houlding at Skyscript https://www.skyscript.co.uk/CA/CA_DH.pdf

To book a reading with Richard contact me and I will pass your details to Richard: [email protected]

📍Everything you need to know is here: https://www.stelliumastrology.com/links/

Check out this episode!

#stellium stelliumastrology astrology thestelliumastrologypodcast zodiacsigns astrologypodcast learnastrology

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southeasteyesurgeon · 1 year

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thenightwolf51 · 2 years

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The Power Of Expectation

I really like how alot of things just work off of Crowley or Aziraphale's expectations in the book, even when they're not intentionally miracling anything. Like the Bentley hasn't been filled with gas in 60 years and runs soley because Crowley expects it to. I highly doubt Aziraphale has ever even considered the possibility of a light bill but the lamps still turn on when he hits the switch because he expects them to. Its like the power of belief but increased. So here's a "Crowley and Aziraphale take Warlock and raises him themselves" AU but with an addition of Expectation.

Technically, Crowley fulfills the terms of his contract. He took the basket and delivered the little Antichrist to the Satanic Nuns of the Chattering Order. Its just that when he felt he was no longer bound by said contract he snuck back in to room 4.

He was maybe panicking and couldn't quite remember if it was room 4 or 3 but you could hardly blame him what with the impending apocalypse and all.

So with the little hellspawn, who had apparently been name Warlock as said on the crib, in one arm and the snapping of his fingers, the crib was replaced with the baby he saw wheeled away and he was walking back unnoticed to the Bentley.

Cue lots of panicking, showing up to Aziraphale's bookshop with the baby, and the same drunken conversation that leads to the sober decision of raising him to be normal themselves, with the addition of the suspected antichrist sleeping undisturbed in a miracled bassinet

Now in another world where Warlock went home with the Dowling's he grew up with a father he barely knew through a screen, a mother who didn't quite pay him attention but tried, and a Nanny and Gardener he saw most days but not all the time. The Nanny got days off and he only really saw the Gardener when he was allowed to play outside, both left when he was 6 and were replaced by two tutors he saw even less, only five days a week during learning hours. And while the Nanny and Gardener had been important influences, they were not his only ones. Mrs. Dowling still had days were she wanted to feed him herself or try to bond and there were plenty of fancy boring events were he was mostly expected to stand quietly by Mr. and Mrs. Dowling.

Not in this world

In this world all he really has is his Crowley and 'Zira, and being that they spend every second with him, they end up having a greater influence than anyone really intended

They spends nights in the Mayfair flat, all three of them because the bookshop isn't quite livable but sometimes the nightmares are better soothed by his 'Zira and he likes the funny voices and expressions 'Zira uses when he reads him asleep

They spend most days in the bookshop, all three of them because while the shop is a more stimulating environment than the flat, Zira often gets lost in the books and it would be quite a bit more boring without his Crowley there to play with him

Warlock grows up going to St James Park once a week, he learns to threaten plants into verdant health and the joy of stories, he patters around ancient stacks of books he treats with care and A. Z. Fell and Co's yelp reviews gain the addition of a three year old terror with a snake that goes from sweet to near-feral at the word "buy", and his room has glow in the dark stars on the concrete ceiling that are maybe just a bit brighter than they should be

It's around the time Warlock is almost 5, however, that the differences of this world really kicks it up a notch.

See this is the age children start kindergarten in London, and the hundreds of parenting books Aziraphale has read and one or two mommy blogs Crowley most definitely did not skim through all agree that children need to be socialized.

In this world there are no paranoid Americans worried about things like security details around to have final say in Warlock's schooling, and really being around normal human children can only help the Angel and Demon's plans along.

Besides wouldn't it be nice if Warlock made some friends

So off he goes to a nice little school where he meets lots of other kids, and learns a bit about Expectations

Expectation is a bit similar to the power of Belief and nothing is stronger or more steady than the Belief and Expectations of a child. It often weakens as an adult learns more about how the world works but for a child who knows almost nothing but what they Expect and Believe it can have quite the effect.

(It is nothing compared to the Belief or Expectation of occult and ethereal beings, however. The Bentley drives without gas because Crowley Expects it to move when he presses the pedal, Aziraphale's towers of books stay steady because he Expects them not to fall, the laundry and dishes get done not because either of them remembered to hit "start" when they loaded the machines but because they Expect them to be clean when they come back)

For example, there is a common Expectation shared by many people young and old that Warlock has just learn while playing with his classmates.

Children resemble their parents

For adults this can have a lot more specifics and exceptions. Children resemble their parents, but they could also have traits from a grandparent, or aunt, or resemble one parent more than the other, or even neither at all. Adults have more knowledge on mutations and recessive genes which tend to dilute the Expectation but not overpower the general Belief.

For kids its a lot more simple and straightforward truth, children resemble their parents. Thats it.

(Certain ethereal and occult beings also have this Expectation, they also know that a resemblance isnt limited to physical. A child's habits, the way they smile, a favorite food or activity, can also come from the people who raise them. It was a pretty common topic that cropped up in their research on Nurture Vs. Nature)

And Warlock, who has spent nearly every second of his life with two very powerful beings and thus has been exposed to a good many bits of magic and manipulations of reality, who has worn diapers miracled clean and drank forgotten coco that suddenly turns warm again, who has had scrapes healed in seconds and is quite used to things working because you Expect them to, who's understanding of "parents" is shaky but knows that his Crowley and Zira fit, takes this new Expectation to heart

And so it can really be of no surprise when his hair, which had just begun to lose the gold of his infancy, hesitantly lightens back up over the course of the next month and decides to take on a sort of pale auburn sheen in bright lights and sunshine

Meanwhile his eyes, which had always been blue and will remain blue, slowly and unnoticeablely shift to a less human detailing in the irises and the pupils split at the tops and bottoms to create very subtle points that are only really noticeable when very dilated and thus are well hidden by things such as a camera flash or bright days.

(It should probably be of note that this would not have happened had Warlock not been in constant exposure to two very inhuman entities, and if said entities, who by this point found that calling themselves Warlock's parents brought on far fewer unwanted questions than terms such as guardians or godfathers, had not begun to subconsciously think of themselves as his parents and thus through unintentional influence brought about the changes. And though they hoped to raise him to be normal, they still Expected some Antichrist oddities)

It was also around this time that Warlock began a habit of collecting

Specifically of collecting down feathers he'd find in the park and playground.

He'd pick them up when no one was paying too close attention and stick them in his pocket where he would mostly forget about them until he got home.

The first time this happened, Aziraphale looked up from his book that evening to see Warlock staring at his hand with adoration. "What do you got there, Warlock?" He would ask, to which Warlock would reply simply, "My feather."

This would give both he and Crowley pause at first, neither of them thinking about ducks or pigeons, and have to shake off a bit of suspicion that begins creep in

That suspicion steadily increases over time with each little feather found in his bedsheets, or dresser, or attached to the back of his shirt.

"You don't think...." "No, no, of course not." "His father was once an angel." "But he's not meant to come into power until he's 11" "come into power or come into full power" "..."

So they wait and they watch and somehow, though they never catch him picking any up, whenever they ask if he had any new feathers he'd pull one from his back pocket, looking almost like he was pulling them from his back, and held it out proudly.

And if they noticed, on days where he spent more time with Crowley, that the feathers were darker than the usual grey well it couldn't hurt for him to spend the next day with just Aziraphale and vice versa

(It is of note that the feather colors could just be a coincidence. Or it could be the result of Warlock, who has seen his guardian's wings in moments were they weren't quite as careful as they should be and had a particular itch at the shoulders, simply thinking something along the lines of "Oh, bright feathers like Zira! I spent all day with Zira!")

Either way, the possibility has now bloomed in their minds and as far as they know there isn't anything that indicates it couldn't happen. They find themselves at risk of Warlock growing feelings of being outcasted and other, which would be bad for their overall Plan to prevent armageddon.

With this in mind, they begin to tentatively let their wings out of the Ether more often when they're all three at home or alone in the closed bookshop. Its something neither of them have done very often, and not something they've done infront of eachother since Eden

On Warlock's end of things, he's quite happy to see their wings. Hes of the opinion that his Zira and Crowley have biggest, prettiest feathers than he could ever find. So he stops presenting "his" feathers and starts proudly showing them "Zira's feather!" or "Crowley's feather!" whenever they ask if he had a new one, to which fills them both with a warmth that goes unacknowledged on the serpent's end.

By the time he's 6 years old he no longer collects the ones he'd find at the park but loves to carry his guardian's feathers around. And they both still find enough of the little downs that this particular change goes unnoticed

By this point Aziraphale and Crowley have also started to take notice of the state of eachother's wings, which in turn lead them to the conscern of preening.

They both needed a good preening and, you know, Warlock needed to learn too. It was important, after all, with their suspicions. And really, what kind of guardians would they be, if he did develop wings and they left him wholly unprepared to care for them

So a new routine gets added to their afternoons and evenings about once a week. Where they take the time to sit down on a pile of pillows and they teach Warlock how to groom feathers

Its warm and comforting and Crowley has to bite back the affection he feels as he plucks a leaf from Aziraphale's scapulars and resolutely ignores its reemergence as he guides Warlock's tiny hands in straighten flight feathers.

(They never acknowledge the domesticity or familial feeling of the routine but they dont really have to, Warlock has never been discouraged from asking questions or seeking out books so all it really takes some years later is a brief mention of preening behavior from his science teacher and a lunch period spent in the library to secure the understanding in his head)

They're not sure when but by the time Warlock is 7 their suspicions have evolved into Expectation. And thankfully by that point they have mostly stopped thinking of him as "the Antichrist" and more as "Warlock", otherwise a young boy of equal age in Tadfield would be getting a few surprises. The Expectation that "the Antichrist will develop wings" would have a very different result than "Warlock will develop wings"

Warlock has also begun to Expect that he'll have wings and, with all the innocence and ignorance of childhood, thought there no more significance to the color of his guardian's wings than there was to the color of their hair and so settled on the Expectation that his own wings would be a mixed gray.

(It is also of note that the shaky beginning understanding of biology that would weaken a child's Expectation does not effect Warlock. Both his parents seem male but he pretty sure thet aren't human so he doesn't think it really matters. And if it did, well, his Crowley is a woman sometimes. Besides, they've taught him about all of God's creatures and a good bit of them don't follow the gender rules his science teacher talked about)

And so, with the Expectation of an occult and ethereal being (as well as a not-quite-human-by-this-point child bolstered by a few dozen actually-human children who all Expect children to resemble their parents) it can't be so surprising when the down feathers they have continued to randomly find suddenly seem quite a bit bigger than before.

Nor is it shocking when Crowley catches sight of a feather drifting into existence behind Warlock as he follows Aziraphale off to a bedtime story.

However, this Expectation takes quite a bit more time to persuade biology than his eyes and hair did. Its not until Warlock is 8 that they get true proof of their Expectations being confirmed

It was a nice day and they were enjoying an outing in St James Park. They'd brought along a tartan blanket and an improbably spacious basket full of various sandwiches and were quite content to picnic the day away until it got dark enough for a clear view of the stars. They were in a secluded little area by themselves and because they Expected to go unnoticed it was guaranteed that they would

On this particular day there was an abundance of love and appreciation in the air and our favorite angel was quite happy to sit back and bask in the feeling of it all. In fact he had even activated a special Sight so he could watch the lovely aurora of emotion float around the Park's Ether.

Aziraphale had not bothered to turn off his Sight when Warlock came up nor did he when answering the child's question. So it was because of this that he was in position to see them for the first time as Warlock turned to run off.

They were small and knobby and almost nonexistently faint, especially when compared to his own, which shone quite spectacularly in the Ether, and Crowley's, which ruffled languidly in a cloak of void like shadow over where he was enjoying the sun's heat. All that could really be made out was the shape, an excited twitch as Warlock spotted a flower, and the hazy possibility of fluffy down feathers.

They were probably the most beautiful little things he'd ever seen and he had to fight back tears as he gently smack Crowley awake to Look too.

After that they'd periodically check on his wings with Sight and when it seemed like they gained a strong enough presence in the Ether, Aziraphale and Crowley tried to teach him how to release them into this dimension

This did not have much success

Or any really

They didn't Expect him to get it immediately but they suspected he could eventually, the little collection of grey shimmering down seemed to indicate that much

But mostly the only physical presence of Warlock's wings was the occasional ichy or achy shoulder blades

Its when he's 9 that he finally manages to get Crowley to give in to taking him flying because "You're gonna have to teach me one day anyway". It's only the once and they dont tell Aziraphale, who's away at a book auction, but it leaves Warlock with a taste and craving that even riding high speed in the Bentley with the windows down can't quite sate

By the time he's 10, Aziraphale and Crowley are hopeful and somewhat optimistic. He's not as human as they had hoped but honestly thats not that surprising. On the rest of the Plan, however, it seems to have gone well

Warlock played baseball with long time friends and was ahead of his grade in maths, he spent his spare change on comics and banana flavored bubble gum and Saturday mornings were preferably passed watching cartoons with his Crowley

He yells at house plants and scares off unwanted customers, he knows the words to just about every Queen song and uses phrases like "tickety-boo", he wears blue with leather and red with cream, he's perfected an annoyed hiss and willingly gives his umbrella to elderly waiting at bus stops, he never lies but isn't particularly bothered about whether what he says offends someone

He outwardly seems like a happy normal boy with a somewhat chaotically neutral approach to life

No hellhounds show up on his 11th birthday

Because he isn't actually the antichrist and hellhounds work a bit beyond Expectations. And even if they didn't, the Expectation of a single angel and demon are completely drowned out by thousands of angels and demons all Expecting the Antichrist to receive the hound.

Aziraphale and Crowley are concerned and confused because they have no idea where the actual antichrist is but somehow their not-antichrist is not quite human and they dont have time to worry about this because Armageddon

Cue the event of the book and show with the addition of a not-quite-human not-antichrist

Its interesting to see the place where he was born, and the people shooting eachother in the courtyard are entertaining

The lady they ran over seems nice if a bit nervous

Warlock thinks he would have liked Alpha Centuri even if his Zira didn't think he'd be able to breathe

Seeing the bookshop burn is very painful but he stays in the Bentley like his Crowley said, memories of hiding among the books and learning the nonsensical sorting system bring tears to his eyes. He can't stop them from falling when his Crowley comes back without his Zira

His Zira is fine, just wearing a weird old lady

There's a lot of shaking and panicking and his Zira has a flaming sword

Warlock doesn't think his parents meant to bring him to this strange white place but he glad they did. There's this release of tension as for the first time he truly, fully, physically stretches out his wings

They've grown quite a bit and even have a few primary and secondary feathers now. Embarrassingly, though, they're still mostly covered in fuzzy down but he can't quite help the swell of pride as he gives them a slow little flap

(From the actual antichrist, Adam's, view of things he's not sure who these three are but they all have wings and he's pretty certain the adults are the winged kids parents, he looks like them after all)

So Armageddon is prevented and if the background thought of the winged kid and his parents is there when Adam rewrites reality a bit, well, it honestly doesn't change much

Things continue on, the world keeps existing

Warlock still plays baseball but now sometimes with the Them, he still like banana bubble gum and comics and Saturday cartoons with his Crowley, its been much easier to pull his wings from the Ether since the Not-Apocalypse so they've been included in the preening routine, and he really likes their cottage in the South Downs

And in a few years, an angel and a demon start to teach their son how to fly

#long post #good omens #good omens au #aziraphale #Crowley #anthony j crowley #warlock dowling #wings #Expectations #Expectations AU #Crowley and Aziraphale raise Warlock

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sneverussape · 2 years

Text

this much i know is true

evans!severus au ficlet - tow severus meets tobias again wc: 2500+ cw/tw parental abandonment

Severus (Snape) Evans had always felt he lived smack dab in the middle of two realities. He was a wizard living in a (mostly) Muggle household. He had epilepsy, which meant he could be fine one second and ill the next. He had two families, one which had welcomed him with open arms despite everything he was and wasn't, and one which had abandoned him seemingly at the first chance.

He had two mothers, although he barely remembered his birth mother. But she knew her name. Professor McGonagall had mentioned it when she had visited to give Lily and him their Hogwarts letters. Eileen Prince (Snape?). He didn't know where she was and didn't want to know. As far as he was concerned, Kathleen Evans was the only mother he needed.

He had two fathers. This was the trickier part.

Harry David Evans was a civil engineer at a large firm. He was slight and willowy and built like a whippet. He had the patience of a saint, especially when it came to Severus' sisters. He painted model planes as a hobby and loved reading mythology books. When the fun fair came to town he would give them a pound each to spend and would tell them that they could always find him at the coconut shy booth if they needed him. It was Harry Evans who had moved them out of Cokeworth and into Greater London so it would be nearer to the better hospitals. He had done it for Severus, although he had never said it out loud. Severus knew, of course. He may have only been 12, but he wasn't stupid.

Tobias Snape was another story.

Severus remembered his father -- his birth father -- very clearly. Tobias had worked at the steel mills in Cokeworth. He was a big man, and towered over most of the men in the street. He was blonde, ruddy-faced, and had large hands that Severus remembered sometimes held him with fondness, but sometimes he'd be on the receiving end of.

Most times, the hands weren't there, however. Because Tobias wasn't.

Severus had been 5 when Tobias went out the door one day and never came back. He had been ill the night before, and the force of magic that came with the fit had knocked Tobias clear off his feet. He had woken up in a puddle of sick with his father lying on the floor beside him. Tobias had woken up much later, blood on his face from a broken nose, and carried him to the bathroom to clean him up. He put him to bed after, and when Severus had gotten up again, Tobias was gone. And stayed gone.

Severus had waited for him. He had cried for him. But his father never came back. Slowly, he learned to take care of himself. It was just more difficult if he had a fit. Once he had one in the kitchen and nearly missed smashing his head on the counter. His magic destroyed all the wiring in the house. The lights and heating were gone. If Petunia hadn't taken him home on the day that she had, Severus wasn't sure how much longer he would have lasted.

(He never told her this, but sometimes he made sure he was extra nice to Petunia. Even if she annoyed him. Even if she hogged the telephone. Even if she nagged at him night and day to take his medication. Even if she sang Peter Andre songs at the top of her lungs).

He still thought of Tobias. It was one of his deepest secrets. He thought about him constantly. Sometimes with hate, but often with curiosity. He wondered what had happened to him, if he was still even alive. Some preliminary searches at the library when Petunia and Lily weren't looking were unhelpful. His wizarding tutors also refused to use magic to scry for him ("That would be Dark Magic, Master Evans. It would be...ah...highly frowned upon, especially with a wizard as...prone to illness...as yourself"). As far as anyone was concerned, Tobias Snape seemed to have vanished off the face of the Earth. His mum and dad never mentioned him either, although he knew his dad had known Tobias, at least as an acquaintance. Cokeworth was a small town, and someone else's business was everybody else's. His parents were painfully polite, however, and never asked anything more than what was required. Severus both hated and loved them for it.

Sometimes he thought he saw glimpses of his father. Smudges of gold and grey amongst the green and black of London foliage. Leaning against a brick wall near the playground. Smoking in an alley. Staring at him through the smeared glass of the corner pub. But always, there were his sisters and his parents, his hand held tightly in theirs, pulling him away, round the corner, up the road, until the phantom sightings disappeared.

He was dreaming, he was sure of it. Impossible, it was impossible--

Severus stopped in his tracks. He was alone this time. Well, not really, he was with Mercutio, who had begun to whine and growl beside him. They had only stepped out get Mum some cheese for supper. Shepherd's pie. One of his favorites. She had only agreed to let him go alone because Petunia was at lacrosse practice, Dad was at work, and she had promised the Bakers next door that she would look after their twins that afternoon. Besides, the grocer was only two blocks away and they both knew Mercutio and Severus, and knew what to do in case of emergency. Nothing should have happened in the 70 or so metres between their house and the grocer.

No, not impossible, he found himself thinking. Improbable. And yet...

The man -- Tobias -- was standing on the pavement outside of their house, looking for all the world as if he had been out on a stroll. He was still tall, but his hair seemed to have gone a faded, dull blonde that looked almost grey in the afternoon light. Severus realized as well at that moment that his father was blue-eyed, but they too seemed faded, like something that had been left out too long in the sun. He had his hands in his pockets and wore a nondescript jacket over a rumpled shirt and woolen slacks. He wore workman's shoes, and although they were scuffed, they were clean. When he spoke, something within Severus seemed to shiver, like a beast being awakened from slumber.

"Yer dog?" he asked.

Mercutio growled, and Tobias took a careful step back. He lifted his palms to show they were empty.

"Just askin'." Tobias said. His eyes seemed to roam all over Severus, as if drinking him in. As if memorizing him. It lasted all of two seconds before he shook his head. A thatch of hair fell over his eyes when he did, much like Severus' own often did.

"I'll go." He said, slowly backing away. "M'wanting no trouble."

Severus felt his throat constrict. His grip on Mercutio's leash tightened as he felt the familiar thrum of his magic churn deep within him. He hoped to God, Merlin, Buddha, Allah -- someone -- for him to not have a fit right then and there. That was the last thing he needed.

"Wait." He found himself saying. Calling out. "Wait."

Tobias had already turned his back and was walking away. He seemed to not hear Severus.

"Da." The word felt strange on his tongue, but still familiar. Like an old dog coming home. Like the returning of a season. "Da...please."

Tobias seemed to freeze in his tracks but didn't turn around. His hands were curled into fists by his side.

"M'not your Da," he said, although the tremble in his voice was evident. His next words were a mumble. "Go home, lad."

Annoyance made Severus' skin prickle. "I know you," he said confidently. More confidently than how his father seemed to be at present, at least. "You're Tobias Snape." He gulped before he spat the next words out. "Have you been following me?"

Tobias' shoulders seemed to fall. This time, he turned around. A ghost of a smile was on his lips.

"Merely visiting, lad. I'll be gone before you know it. You won't see neither hide nor hair--"

"Why did you leave?" Severus cut him off, internally wincing when he did. If his mother or Petunia had heard him he wouldn't hear the end of it. But he didn't want platitudes or promises. He wanted answers. Needed them. He felt his cheeks growing hot and suddenly, the threat of tears seemed very real. "Tobias Snape. Why did you leave?"

Me, his mind supplied. Screamed. Why did you leave me?

Tobias' gaze fell to the ground. His hands were suddenly fidgeting, like dying birds.

"Din't really mean to." He said, his eyes lifting but completely avoiding Severus' gaze. "Din't want to. You were...very ill. Always been since ye started doin'...magic." He made a vague movement with his hands at the word. "I'd no clue what to do...no idea how to raise someone like ye. No one's wains were like ye, I can tell ye that. Yer Mam was gone...there was really no one else. I was afraid to touch ye. Your last fit...lad, you nearly killed us both."

Severus bit his lip. He struggled not to let his tears surface.

"So your brilliant idea was to leave, was that it?" he said, his tone already accusatory. "Make me someone else's problem? Or wish I just up and died?"

At that, Tobias looked at him, a flash of anger in his eyes. A flush came over his cheeks.

"Never," Tobias said, his voice suddenly thick and hoarse. "It warn't yer fault. I was wrong. I tried to get my head on straight. God knows I--"

"God had nothing to do with it," Severus spat. "You left, and my family found me and took me home."

The words seemed to slap Tobias and stunned him into silence. His eyes fell to the pavement again, and he nodded. When he looked up once more at Severus, his eyes had taken on a sheen. The sun glistened in his tears.

"Well, thank God for that," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He seemed to want to say more, but clamped his mouth closed before he could. With one last look at Severus, Tobias lifted his hand in farewell and made to walk away.

"Wait!"

Severus' heart was beating fast against his ribs. He wanted to scream, cry, shout...anything to hide the pain that his father was leaving. Him. Again. But that was the way it should be, wasn't it? Tobias Snape was no longer a part of his life, and would stay firmly in his past.

But then why did it hurt so much?

"Wait, please."

He found himself jogging towards his father, Mercutio whining beside him. Tobias turned to face him, frowning. With the distance between them breached, Severus could inhale the scent that wrapped around his father like an aura: spearmint gum, cigarette smoke, cheap cologne, rough soap. He was bristly and scratchy where Harry Evans was smooth and soft. They were like two ends of a spectrum, and Severus was the midpoint. Severus felt something inside of him shift the longer he stared into his father's face, as though the weights of his life finally clicked and fell into balance.

"Lad, you should stop. Yer not well. I shouldn't have come an' this is all very upsettin'..."

Severus felt the heat of his father's palm against his cold cheek. Tobias' touch was feather-light and careful. I was afraid to touch yer.

"Yer lookin' peaky. Go home, lad." The hand retracted, and the cold was so sudden that Severus' skin stung where the warmth had been. "M'so sorry...I warn't thinking, I jus' wanted to see..."

"Please stay."

The words tumbled out of his mouth like rushing water. He didn't know what he was doing. Didn't know if this was really what he wanted. But the thought of his father disappearing once more seemed to tear him into two. Tobias stared at him, genuine surprise in his eyes.

"I dun' think that's a good idear, lad..."

"Severus." Severus said. His father calling him 'lad' grated on his nerves. It made him feel nameless, as though they had never belonged to each other, when he had. And there was proof.

"My name is Severus Tobias Evans. Call me Severus."

He didn't miss the way Tobias smiled at the mention of his middle name. For years he had denied the existence of it and had never mentioned it except when it was needed for official documents. But he also couldn't find it in him to get rid of it.

"Severus." Tobias said. He seemed to let the name settle on his tongue. "Of course." A choked laugh escaped from him, and his gaze turned watery again. "T'were the name I gave you. After the emperor, y'know. Yer Mam insisted on Tobias as a compromise. I told 'er ye'd have a whale of a time in primary school with that name but...here ye are."

"I'm in Year 8 actually," Severus felt he needed to make that clear. The desire to tell Tobias all sorts of information seemed to well up inside of him. "And Year 2 in Hogwarts."

Tobias nodded, not even questioning how being in two different schools was possible.

"M'glad to hear. Do well in 'em," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. "You'll go far, l--Severus. I know you will."

"Will I..." Severus hated how much he felt he was a child at that moment. He often took pride in being so much more mature than he was supposed to be. Not that it was that difficult with Lily as his constant benchmark. Lily could cry at the drop of a hat.

"Will I see you again?" he asked, forcing the words out. It scratched at his throat like thorns.

Tobias tilted his head at him, the same way Mercutio did whenever he didn't quite understand what was being asked.

"You have a family, lad." He started, the words slow to come out. "I dun' wan' ter hurt any of ye..."

"You're my family too," Severus blurted out. "I don't have...I don't have any other Da. Just you."

He felt the mad urge to wipe his arm across his eyes but resisted. Tobias' expression softened.

"Maybe. If ye really want ter." Tobias said, his tone now much gentler. "I'll ask your parents. But not today, or tomorrow, or even next week. Soon, all righ'? And if...Severus, lad. I need you to understand. If it doesn't happen for whatever reason...it's not yer fault, righ'? Yer a child. My child. Their child. It doesn't matter. You belong to us and we belong ter you, and tha' will never change. M'not asking for yer forgiveness. Jus' yer understanding. All righ'?"

It felt like both a beginning and an end. Severus didn't understand it, but he nodded just the same.

"Good lad. Now go home. Yer mother's prob'ly worried sick."

He made to leave again, and this time Severus didn't follow him or call him back. His gaze followed his father's path as he ambled down the sidewalk and turned to round the corner. Before he did, he saw Tobias pause and look back, before raising his hand and turning it round to touch his fingers to his lips.

It lasted for a few seconds, and then it was gone, and with it his father, leaving no more than a trace of him in the early autumn breeze.

Only then did Severus burst into tears.

end.

#my fic #evans!severus #au #daddy issues #it's open-ended #toby may or may not come back #haven't really decided #i feel like he would???#i just don't know how well that would go down with the evanses #but i strongly feel he would #snape #hp

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