#seriously Henry & Edward not necessary

[ttteanimalau]

Hello yall!

Firstly, I wanna apologize for this blog being...in a coma for a bit there. I promise, I'm not done with this blog or au, I've actually not stopped thinking about it. I've just been lacking motivation to make art for it, any artist would know lol

Because it's been so long, I've decided to finally settle on making references for the mains, meaning engines 1-7 plus Emily.

So far, this is Thomas, Edward, Henry, and Gordon, I'll make everyone in time but I had these done and wanted to post now. Also, have some fun basic descriptions of their characters in my au.

Thomas is, to most workers, a lil prick. In all seriousness, his basic personality is a lovable yet cheeky young dork, with a big heart. There are few figures of authority he has respect to but he, overall, doesn't find joy in causing distress or harm to others. He causes trouble in a more-or-less fun kind of way, even though it can get under the skin of certain co-workers He does have a bit of a hero complex though, after all he's been through.

Edward is an older mentor-type figure, basically everyone's dad. He's thoughtful and very reliable, always willing to do what's necessary to get the job done. When a scenario would call for it, he does have some bite when it comes to verbally disciplining his younger peers, especially Thomas and James. He takes no nonsense and can be pretty scary when he's ticked off, despite his usual softboi appearance. Also yes, he's very gay, I felt that was important to mention lol

Henry is also a softboi, though he's definitely less of a mentor figure. He's careful and gentle, especially with smaller beings. He can get prideful, especially when he primarily pulls the heaviest trains. He has incredible strength and he knows it, though part of his pride comes from hidden insecurity, considering his past and how fragile he used to be before the Flying Kipper. But that's a long story that'll be explained in the future.

Gordon is the pride of Sodor's railway, and he basks in the spotlight. He's boastful and proud, and that's not entirely unfounded. As the worker who primarily pulls the Express passenger train, he's aware of how important he is. Though, he does have a fondness for his younger co-workers, even the ones who annoy him (*cough cough* Thomas). However, he isn't above pulling the one-off cruel joke.

I hope you enjoy this! One again, I apologize for my absence lol

[une-sanz-pluis]

I don't know if I have read too little literature, but members of the medieval royal family seemed to not openly refute the enemy's adultery and rumors against them?

Hi! So sorry for the delay, I thought I had answered this and then realised I hadn't when I received the second ask.

It is true that we don't often have an outright, official denial of rumours relating to adultery, illegitimacy or other sex scandals from medieval royals. It may have been thought that to openly refute the rumours would bring more attention to them than was desirable or that acknowledging these rumours would give them some measure of credibility. They may have also thought to address such rumours at all was beneath them - this was the age of the divine right of kings, after all. There are some cases where the rumours were probably so obviously far-fetched that very few people would believe it, and there were some cases where an official denial wasn't necessary because the king's continued acceptance of his queen and their children was considered rebuttal enough. Our understandings of these scandals are also limited - it's entirely possible that, for example, Margaret of Anjou furiously denied committing adultery in private conversations but we have very little evidence of private conversation.

Only two late medieval English queens (Isabella of France and Margaret of Anjou) were accused of adultery and their circumstances were quite different. While we know Joan of Kent, Isabel of Castile and Cecily Neville were rumoured to have committed adultery, our evidence for these rumours relating to Joan and Isabel comes from after their deaths. In Cecily's case, chroniclers recorded her anger and it may have been seen as obvious piece of political slander. In cases of illegitimacy, some were obviously allegations made to denigrate an unpopular figure (e.g. the allegations that John of Gaunt was the son of a butcher in Ghent substituted for his parents' real child, later recycled into a claim that Gaunt's son, Henry IV, was the son of a butcher in Ghent) while others were taken more seriously, such as the rumours of Edward of Lancaster's illegitimacy.

We do have evidence of attempts to suppress the rumours about Edward of Lancaster's illegitimacy and punish those who spread him. The first surviving evidence for Edward of Lancaster's alleged illegitimacy was the execution of John Helton on 23 February 1453 for making bills claiming Edward wasn't the son of the queen (it isn't clear who his parents were supposed to be in this story). Four years later, in 1457, we have evidence of efforts to repress some sort of negative comments that are probably allegations of adultery and illegitimacy - for instance, we have a royal commission being sent to Norfolk to inquire into "any treasons, misprisions, insolences and slanders committed by John Wode ... against the king's person or majesty or royalty and against the persons and honour of queen Margaret and prince Edward". It's also been argued that stories like Henry disguising himself to secretly meet Margaret are part of the Lancastrian efforts to counter the stories of her adultery. So, we can see attempts to counter the stories via suppression and propaganda but there's no direct acknowledgement of them, let alone a denial from Henry and Margaret.

I've talked mainly here about the cases where women were the ones accused of sexual misbehaviour, primarily because these cases appear most often. Men did commit adultery but there was little outright condemnation of them for it and it was only in cases where the affair became notorious (such as Alice Perrers and Edward III, Katherine Swynford and John of Gaunt) that the affair was remarked upon, a which point there was little use in a denial because the affair was "known" to exist. According to Walsingham, Edward III did deny knowing that Alice Perrers was married during their affair because he abhorred adultery but Walsingham is hardly a reliable commentator on Alice or morals.

Allegations and rumours of sodomy and same-sex behaviour were possibly not addressed because the "unspeakability" of sodomy meant these rumours were couched in vague terms and allusions. For instance, Walsingham described Richard II and Robert de Vere's relationship using the the term "obscene familiarity", which might be meant to mean a sexual relationship or just an unnatural closeness. A denial would either be equally vague or require that the term be defined in order to deny it. Both options would probably result in enhancing the rumour and adding to the speculation rather than shutting it down.

Love magic could also a tricky thing to deny. Magic was supposed to be done in secret so a denial would have little weight. If, for example, Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester denied he had been bespelled into marrying Eleanor Cobham, it would be easy for those invested in the rumour to explain away his denial. Firstly, how would he know?Eleanor was hardly likely to tell him she was feeding him a love potion. Secondly, if he was bespelled, a denial would be expected and could even be "proof" that he was under an enchantment. Given that rumours of enchantment often existed to explain unequal pairings (generally a high-status man besotted with an individual (regardless of gender) of lesser status considered "unworthy" of them), the very act of Gloucester defending Eleanor could be read as confirmation that she had enchanted him.

In contrast, Edward IV seems to have been keen to address the accusations that Jacquetta of Luxembourg had used love magic in order to make him marry her daughter, Elizabeth Woodville, since she was investigated and cleared by the king's great council and, at her insistence, her exoneration was made part of the public record. The accusations were likely instigated by Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick and probably designed to remove Jacquetta from influence and annul Edward's marriage to Elizabeth. It was likely Edward responded seriously to these claims because Warwick's investigation treated them seriously and thus Edward needed to a rebuttal that at least appeared to take the allegations seriously and because the legitmacy of his children would be affected. It is also likely that the case of Eleanor Cobham - where the rumours of love magic had grown into charges of treasonable necromancy - influenced Edward, Elizabeth and Jacquetta's responses.

I really don't know enough about Richard III to comment on the allegation of incest or why he denied it in detail. One Flemish chronicle claimed Edward II had an affair with his niece, Eleanor de Clare, but the lack of reference to it in all other sources suggests (to me, at least) that the Flemish chronicler had either gotten hold of a garbled account or invented the story - there is no evidence the rumour was treated credibly by anyone in England.

Glancing at Rosemary Horrox's biography of Richard III, it does seem that the rumour Richard wanted to marry Elizabeth of York was widespread and was treated credibly even by his close associates, which leads Horrox to suggest he may have actually been considering it. In one sense, his denial shows how damaging the rumour was to his reputation and how weak his hold on the throne was since Richard is unusual in apparently being the only king known to openly deny such a rumour.

[richmond-rex]

Hi, I was wondering if Henry VII made a will in 1492 before he set off to France and what it contained? I remember reading something about it but I've searched through two of his biographies and I cannot seem to find any mention of it, so maybe I was mistaken.

Hi! We don't know if Henry VII really made a will in 1492 before crossing to France because no will dating from that time has survived. But! It makes sense that he did that though, in the same way that Edward IV wrote a will before crossing in 1475, the same way Henry V wrote one before and during his campaigns in France, etc. Henry VII's last will, dated from three weeks before his death, is the longest medieval royal will and most likely was a revised form of earlier wills that were carefully written over his reign.

The will signed and sealed in 1509 was not the first made by Henry VII, although it is the only text to survive. Revision of testamentary dispositions was, then as now, by no means an uncommon practice. Henry’s mother, Margaret Beaufort made a whole series of wills during the last seven or eight years of her life, each year causing the previous will to be read to her, and renewing and revising it as necessary. The much-disputed final will of Henry’s son and successor, Henry VIII, was an amalgam of new provisions and rewriting of earlier texts and dispositions; and the same can be said of the will of Henry V, where a collation of the extant texts is instructive. It is likely that Henry VII followed precedent and made a will in 1492 before he left England to campaign in France (Margaret Condon, The last will of Henry VII: document and text).

We know, for example, that Henry drew up a will in 1507, the same year he lay seriously ill. During the spring, on 19 March 1507 one of the 'underclerks' of the signet was paid forty shillings for writing the king’s will. So yeah, in my opinion, it is very likely that he made a will before crossing to France in 1492. It hasn't survived, unfortunately, so we will never know what kind of provisions he left in place to protect his 6-year-old heir, for example. or his queen.

[themalhambird]

@skeleton-richard 

Kate’s family were terrifying. 

The hurt-Kate-and-I’ll-kill-you thing had been sweet when it had been Edmund: Edmund was twelve for fuck’s sake, he was tiny and scowling fiercely just made him look cute. Little brother trying to protect older, way more competent and more to the point grown up sister because that was just what siblings did.

Henry Plantagenet’s threat had been civil enough: one former soldier to another over a pint, a casual “hurt her and I’ll break your arm” and then on to different things. 

On the other hand, Edward had asked to speak with a moment, a serious look on his face and Harry, guessing what was coming, had joked about it- ‘if I hurt her you’ll kill me?’ And Edward had looked him straight in the eyes and said, very calmly. “Oh, I won’t need to kill you. Kate can take care of herself. That being said, there at least twenty seven different places I can think of to hide a body up at The House, and if Kate should ever require it I’ll be more than happy to help her make sure parts of you end up in all of them.”

It left Harry cold. Not so much the threat- though somehow, he knew that Edward meant it and so did Henry. But...they didn’t trust him, to take care of Kate? He wasn’t going to hurt her, he loved her, for fuck’s sake, he’d do anything for her! And now he was sitting in some swanky coffee place that made him squirm, with Richard fucking Plantagenet sitting opposite him and looking like some supermodel, and not talking, and Harry wished he’d just get on with whatever it was he’d asked Harry to come here to be threatened with-

Eventually, Richard put down his coffee with a deliberate chink of china on china. “So, you and Kate are serious, then. You’re moving in with each other?” he asked, as though he didn’t already know that.

“Um. Yes, “ Harry says, squirming some more.

“Well, if you need help.” Richard says, and picks up his coffee again. Henry stares. Was that a complete sentence? If he needed help what? If he needed help with what? What-

“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this,” Richard said suddenly, putting his coffee back down. “Kate means a lot to me-”

Here it comes, Henry thought

“-and you mean a lot to Kate so I would like to get to know you better but honestly, I socialize better in parties.”

“Er- what?” Harry says, completely wrong footed. Richard looks embarrassed. 

“I just...find it easier. With more people. You can spend two minuets talking to someone, introduce them to someone else, and then slip away to talk to the next person for the next two minuets. All the appearance of engaging without actually having to do it.”

“You find it difficult to talk to people,” Harry said flatly. “You.”

Richard winced. “Ones I don’ t know particularly well, yes. It’s difficult. Getting to know someone through small talk often ends up becoming a stilted series of questions and answers and awkward silences while both parties cast about frantically for something no more than marginally stupid to comment on; I don’t like it. So, you’re moving in with Kate?” he said, with the air of a man casting about frantically for something no more than marginally stupid to comment on, and Harry nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m really exited- Kate is- Kate is amazing, she’s just- she’s so kind, and funny, and smart, and sexy-” he flushed, realising that that last bit probably wasn’t something her cousin wanted to here, but Richard grinned.

“Well naturally,” he said, “She‘s a Plantagenet, we’re all  as hot as hell. You’re in love with her.” he added. “It’s obvious- you lit up when you started talking about her just now.”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned straight back, blushing. “I love her to pieces.”

“Have you told her?” Richard took another sip of her coffee, and Harry frowned.

“Well...I asked her to move in with me. And we hold hands all the time, and we kiss and oh fuck, I haven’t actually said it, have I? I mean....I just sort of assumed...” he twitched, aching to race off and correct his mistake, find Kate and tell her, right now, that he absolutely adored her and he wanted to make her happy every day for the rest of his life. That would probably be rude, though, to leave Richard- and something else crossed his mind. “So are you going to threaten me now?” he asked. “The whole, if you hurt Kate...thing. I had it from Edmund at the start of the week, and then Henry, and Edward yesterday and-”

“If my uncle in Gloucester offered you a large sum of money to never see or speak to Kate again, would you take it?” Richard interrupted.

Harry scowled. “Of course I wouldn’t-”

“Well, I don’t need to threaten you then, do I? You love her, you’re moving in with her, you’re both straight so you won’t get arrested and you can actually get married, if you want-” Richard broke off, and drained the rest of his coffee. “Sorry, that was...we’re more like siblings than cousins, really, Henry, Edward, Kate and I, we get protective. Still, if they’re making the effort of threatening you, it means they like you enough to actually want to stick around. And Kate...you make Kate very happy. She glows when she talks about you, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Richard smiled briefly, then stood up. “Anyway, this is it: you’re officially her serious boyfriend. I really would like to get to know you better, but I suppose that will come with time.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. 

“Come with Kate next time we all have coffee,” Richard suggested, as they walked out together. “It would be nice.”

“Sure.” they stopped outside the coffee shop, and looked slightly awkwardly at one another. “Right,” Harry said. “So...”

“So, I am going back to work. That way,” Richard twisted to the left, slightly. 

“Cool. And I am...going to go that way,” Harry said, gesturing in the opposite direction. “Thanks for coffee.”

“Oh, it’s fine. It was- well, anyway. I’ll see you around.” he smiled briefly, turned on his heel, and walked off. Five seconds later, Harry ran after him. 

“I mean it,,” he said. “Thanks. Not, for coffee, particularly, I mean, yes, for coffee, but. What you said. About Kate. And wanting to get to know me better, it. Means a lot. So. Thank you.”

“The worst thing a family can do is be unwelcoming to a partner,” Richard said softly. “It will ruin the relationship, or it will ruin the family, or it will do both. I want my cousin to be happy. You’re important to her, which means you’re important to the rest of us, as well, or you should be. That’s all. Kate’s happiness, with you- it’s the only thing that matters.”

[dwellordream]

“...One reaches a long way into Mary’s character by focusing as she did, on her family – mother, father, siblings – and on her husband. Much of her life centred on all of them. Even so, she was born to sovereignty and, as the events of 1553 showed, she firmly believed that it was her destiny to rule. Her notions of the status and power of monarchy were as exalted as those of her father, and once she reached the throne she fully exercised the royal prerogative, as Henry and Edward had left it. 

Thus, while it is clear that one of the major problems of her life was the unwillingness of many in the sixteenth century to accept a woman as their executive sovereign, the necessary stress, in much recent work on her life, on the problems created by the fact that she was a woman should not obscure her own primary concern, which was to govern her kingdom as effectively and successfully as possible, for God and for her people, just as a man would have done. 

Given the highly personal nature of European monarchy during her lifetime, it was of course impossible to separate the personal from the public, and historians should not try to do so now. In particular, Philip of Spain represented for her not only married life and the prospect of motherhood, but also an epoch-making strategic alliance for England with a major European power. The deep tension which ran through Mary, typically in this period, was between the hierarchical values, with herself at the top of the tree, which she inherited as Queen, and the position as a humble lay disciple of Christ, inferior even to the lowest-ranking ordained person, which was hers as a member of the Catholic Church. The extraordinary liberties which Cardinal Pole sometimes took in his correspondence with her may have reflected this fundamental paradox, as well as the fact that they were royal relatives. 

Another feature of the religious mentality which Mary, in this respect at least, shared even with her bitterest Protestant opponents, and one which is unpalatable to virtually everyone who studies the matter in the twenty-first century, is her willingness, whatever her love of finery, music, dancing and even gambling, to accept that a Christian’s physical body was much less important than his or her immortal soul. Such a view did not, of course, lead inevitably to a policy of violent repression, but in the turbulent circumstances of Mary’s reign it is unlikely that England could have avoided the actions against religious dissenters which, at the time of her accession, were already being vigorously applied on the Continent, notably in the Netherlands, France and Spain. 

That Mary’s policy in this respect represented a specific response to a specific problem is suggested by other evidence, which shows her to have been in every other way a kind and affectionate woman with strong familial and maternal instincts. This made her childlessness all the more tragic, but nevertheless appeared in her personal love and favours towards her servants, and particularly to the children of others.

Mary evidently took the patronage and support of her namesake, Mary the mother of Jesus, extremely seriously, and it is possible, in some respects, to ‘map’ her life on the hymn, or canticle, which the evangelist Luke records as the biblical response to the Archangel Gabriel’s announcement that she would bear God’s son (Luke 1: 46–55). The Magnificat was silently prayed at home, and said and sung in Catholic churches all over England and Europe, the Book of Common Prayer prescribed it for evensong, or Evening Prayer, and it featured prominently in the devotional books which Mary herself used. Mary indeed magnified the Lord when she became Queen in 1553, and when she married Philip in 1554. She believed that God had looked with favour on the lowliness of His servant, when He ended the years of faith and devotion which she had lived through, while she was so often excluded from the court and power, between 1536 and 1553. 

Although she was not to be called blessed throughout all generations, like her patron, as Queen she was constantly reminded by Cardinal Pole that God had done great things for her, by bringing her to both throne and marriage. She believed, as the Blessed Virgin said, that those who truly feared God would receive His mercy, ‘from generation to generation’. In particular, she believed that the duke of Northumberland and the Greys, and Thomas Cranmer and his allies and successors in the Church, were those who had been ‘brought down’ by God, and that she was the ‘lowly’ one who had been ‘lifted up’ by God, to the English throne. 

Finally, in terms of Mary’s Magnificat, she was convinced that her restored, Catholic England was the ‘Israel’ whom God promised to help. Nevertheless, as in most human existence, some of Mary’s hopes – accession to the throne, marriage – were fulfilled, and hence were her ‘joys’, in terms of traditional devotion to the Blessed Virgin, but she also experienced her own ‘sorrows’ – childlessness, separation from her husband, a still-divided kingdom and the loss of Calais. After her death, still more of her achievements would be attacked, undermined or destroyed.

Partly in the sixteenth century and partly in more recent times, Mary’s historical clothes have been stolen by Elizabeth. For many, despite some scholars’ recent efforts, Mary’s achievement as England’s first recognized sovereign queen has been effectively usurped by her half-sister. …By 1559, the older sister was being compared with evil and violent Old Testament women, most notably Jezebel and Athaliah (2 Kings 8, 11; 2 Chronicles 22, 23), and with Roman emperors who persecuted Christians, such as Caligula, Nero, Domitian and Diocletian, as well as the Jewish Herod who massacred the ‘Holy Innocents’.

Mary’s reign has continued to be portrayed thus in most writings and other media up to the present, notably in Shekhar Kapur’s film Elizabeth (1998), in which it is ‘defined on the basis of her childlessness. Her inner Court is represented as dark, foreign and feminine’, and Kathy Burke plays the Queen herself as ‘a hysterical, unattractive woman’, while Cate Blanchett’s Elizabeth is pretty, happy and portrayed in idyllic country settings.

- John Edwards, “Regime Change.” in Mary I

[novels-lover]

Review of this son of York.

This is one of the most recent fictional novels about the life of Richard III from his childhood to his death, how is it different from other books? Well, it includes the scoliosis of Richard III as something crucial in his life that defines his character, despite the fact that the author seems to have a positive opinion of RIII in other books that she has written releated to him in this novel RIII is not innocent of all the crimes of those that history has accused him over the centuries, rather the book seeks to present us a balanced portrait of RIII, so he is not a misunderstood hero as in other recent books, the truth is that the book does not have success portraying his childhood that ended up being an illogical and simple portrait, his adolescence is affected by scoliosis and the problems of the country at this point the book does present an interesting, dark, insecure, ambitious character but not a bad person, here i would say that the book improves and becomes a quick read although it sacrifices the descriptive details in the process which does not allow you to get involved in the plot or in the scenarios, even so it becomes a good reading it develops the facts in an entertaining way, the ending is very well achieved with a dramatic and nostalgic touch, it is not a bad book but to be recent it leaves out many facts that are known from history of RIII, it is not the best book about RIII not the worst has good moments so I give it 3 stars no five because throughout the book many events become absurd.

SPOILERS

Anne Easter the author of this book has been writing novels about the family and even Richard's mistress who according to her book (A rose for the crown) gave him 3 children, and in this book she finally decided to take RIII as her character main bringing back to Kate the mistress presented in a rose for the crown, the books are not exactly a saga so it is not necessary to read the others to understand this one or any other.

Richard is a child who grows up in hard times, he faces the death of his father and political betrayals, which makes him a strong child who learns about justice and life (the lessons are credible but they are presented to him and absorbed in a rather ridiculous way), he is sent to the house of his cousin Richard Neville Kingmaker with whom he creates a bond, there he meets other childrens who will be his friends but unlike other books in this case Rob Percy is initially the closest to Richard not Francis Lovell, during these years of training Richard experiences a physical attraction a bit sexualized by Isabel Neville the eldest daughter of his mentor the kingmaker , Richard is almost a teenager like Isabel so this adoration is understandable but unfortunately she he ignores Richard because she likes Geroge of clarence Richard's hated brother with whom he can never get along because of the bulling and the incompatibility of personalities Geroge is an idiot ambitious and Richard is loyal and hardworking (the book does not do a great job showing these positive things in Richard at least not convincingly) Richard soon gets over his "adoration" for Isabel, oh by the way around fluttering like a butterfly is Anne Neville ,Isabel's younger sister who is almost obsessed with Richard whom she sees as a hero Why? No idea , he does nothing but treat her with contempt and manipulate her during those years but Anne seems to be determined to be a victim of life from the beginning. Richard soon begins to be independent and gets a mistress named Kate with whom he has a relationship of pure love and passion (quite romanticized and totally tragic: a royal duke and she a poor nobody) they have three children but Kate will hide the last one from him, Why? For Richard not to have this son on his conscience and go to his political marriage guilt-free (despite the fact that he was conceived before he got married which makes this part absurd and stupid, I mean two bastard children have to be accepeted by his future wife but THREE ?? (would be impossible according to kate's logic), the good thing is that we do not read so much of this cloying and silly romance, although it is clear to us that Kate is and will always be Richard's true love.

Richard suffers bitterly, the scoliosis feels that God punishes him and becomes pious (although he sleeps with Kate who is married and not to him obviosly ) the scoliosis bothers him a lot and is worse when he ends up in Exile in Burgundy for the second time in his life because his brother loses the throne, and more painful for Richard is knowing that his mentor Kingmaker is on the other side fighting for the Lancaster house and has also given his youngest daughter Anne Neville in marriage to Prince Edward of Lancaster that affects Richard and he is like: Nooo Anne! They say that Edward is a monster for sure it will be bad on her and now that I think about it, I would like her for a wife because of her pedigree (So Richard was an idiot with Anne but he is a Duke of York so it's okay, not that this Edward is a Lancaster so he does not have permission to be an idiot with Anne ok ....) Richard triumphs as a commander of his brothe York won and he becomes a hero, everything seems to be going well he has a good relationship with his brother the King and even with his sister-in-law queen Elizabeth, but the ugly part is that his duty is to assassinate the deposed King Henry VI whom he kills with his own hands (It sounds like something stolen from Shakespeare's play, it is also done in an absurd way, it is something like "take off clumsy mercenary I will do it ") from that moment Richard is convinced that God punishes him for this murder and the scoliosis worsens which leads him to develop mood swings and outbursts of anger, he goes to rule the north and decides to marry Anne Neville who lost her husband during the last battle of course that she is still stupidly in love with Richard, he leaves his mistress and promises to focus on his wife Anne who is a strong and sweet girl loving him nonetheless his bastards or his scolicis, she bears his mood swings, the love he always keeps in his heart for kate over the years, and waits in the sanctuary for months because Richard is a bit clumsy negotiating for their marriage with his brothers, thir life together is not so bad in general and he is faithful (in body because in mind he couldn't stop thinking about Kate even after Anne's death he falls into her arms again) he treats Anne with respect but he is not the husband of the year, for him Anne is a consolation but she will never be Kate who he sees through the years and he even uses his children as a remembrance of that love, all this while Anne goes around rubbing his sore back, being a good stepmother, a good wife, an excellent consort, and loving him madly, which I never understood, except to make love to her with charm, he does not do much to make her happy. (seriously Anne why did you love him all your life?).

Richard manages the north with efficiency and sees happy how is killed George Clarence his brother, not only he does not care about him but it seems good to him that they kill him as always they hated each other is understandable or should be but is not ( Richard felt gulty and sad for killing Henry VI, he became pious and God fearing but then he goes to support his own brother's murder for not reason apart from their childish fights every three or more years that they meet each other but it seems that was good for the plot so Richard kills someone else )

He becomes King at the death of his brother Edward with the typical version, Edward's non-legal marriage, Buckigham manipulates everything (Richard becomes alcoholic as events progress and does not use his logic much to unravel all the conspiracies), I was surprised that he will not kill the princes (Shakespeare must be disappointed), his niece elizabeth falls in love with him, Why? No idea at this point Richard is not only angry all the time but also a little out of control with the situation but she loves him, and gets angry when he rejects her "I hate you man I will marry Henry Tudor" (as if she had a vote in the bussines) The ending explains well the betrayal and the mental state of Richard I think that the most redeemable in general is this Richard that is dark quite complex but does not convince me especially considering that he was a man who even today generates hate or love, they had reasons to hate him but I saw few to love him, I think only Kate and Edward could consider him a good person in this book because he trated them well almost always, I recognize that the character is well done the author does a good job with him but I am not convinced nor do I like him I think he is terribly poorly balanced and the book for me is full of silly or a little absurd things that ruined the story, in general I am disappointed to know that now with so much information avaliable Anne easter still went for myths instead of go for facts or use her logic .

[themidnight-ghost]

Try

Chapter One | 

Anne Boleyn lost everything when she accidentally resurrected Henry VIII. Now it's all up to her to fix her mistakes, but hopefully, she won’t have to do it alone.

When Catherine Parr walked downstairs that morning, she was met with the now-familiar silence and uncomfortable energy lurking around the breakfast table.

“Is everyone okay?” Cathy whispered to her Godmother as she turned on the coffee machine.

“It’s been a week, and Kat refuses to come out of her room.” The survivor chewed her bottom lip, “Anna believes it’s her fault for being so neglectful and won’t even mention her name. Jane is furious, not to mention depressed! And I’ve just ordered an extra security lock and one of those camera doorbells.” Catalina gestured to her iPad.

Cathy collected her coffee, “And has anyone seen Annie?”

“Anne.” Jane corrected from across the table. Her eyes were red and puffy.

“No one’s seen her since the incident.” ‘Lina placed a comforting hand on Cathy’s arm,  

“Forget about her, Cathy. She’s probably off galavanting with Henry in malibu.”

Cathy’s blood boiled at Jane’s comment and her hands balled into fists, “You can’t say that.”

“Oh, can I not?” Jane sassed, “She had a choice of everyone! Mae, Liz, Mary and Eddie, but instead she chose the scumbag who got us here in the first place!”

“There should be a reason!” Cathy argued back.

“Then, what was it? What was worth losing everything?”

And with that, Jane Seymour stormed up to her room, only stopping to pull down a framed photo of the 6 queens at Disneyland from the wall. Anna of Cleves looked apologetically at both Catherine’s and followed Jane, resting the picture on the kitchen table as she left.

That night, Cathy slept alone again. She would usually try to get some sleep before a 2-show day, but the thought of Anne kept her head buzzing. The writer couldn’t help but wonder where her ex-girlfriend was, why Anne betrayed them or if she was ever coming back. The constant questions spiralled and confused the usually logical queen, forcing her to groan into her pillow. She still remembered the day when everything fell apart.

Anne rushed into the writer’s arms with tear-stains carved into her makeup. The Boleyn girl cried until her voice was hoarse and when she finally began to tell Cathy what she’d done - it was too late. A rough knock came from the door, and Jane opened it to reveal their ex-husband, resurrected. Anne burst into a fit of tears and screams as she clawed onto Cathy’s jumper in fright as Henry approached them, a merciless grin on his face.

Nothing had changed.

Anne eventually let go of Cathy, backing herself into a wall. Cathy still cringes at what Henry did next. The monarch stroked Anne’s cheek with his thumb, wiping off a tear.

No one helped her.

“Thank you, my dear.” Henry’s voice was deep, raspy and echoed off the house walls.

“You helped him?” Jane stated.

“He forced me!” Anne was on the verge of a panic attack.

“The universe gave her a choice,” Henry butted in, “Me, Mary, Elizabeth, Edward or Mary. She chose me.”

“You choose who you could resurrect?” Jane’s shout almost tore the house down.

“He- we- we had a plan-” Anne could barely speak, she trembled and clawed at her sides while attempting to back herself further into the wall. She could scarcely breathe between her tears.

“Jane wait-” ‘Lina grabbed the mother by her arm, pulling her away from the Boleyn girl.

Amongst the chaos, Henry snuck out the door. Anna of Cleves tried to contain herself as she comforted a sobbing Katherine Howard. Catalina and Jane were at each other’s throats about Anne Boleyn, and Catherine Parr just stared at the mess of a person she used to call her girlfriend.

The next morning, Anne’s bed was found empty, and most of her belongings had been taken away. The house was never the same after that. Henry was back, Anne was lost, Jane was mourning, Kat was scared, Anna felt guilty, Catalina didn’t go to church and Cathy was single.

Back in bed, the writer had just learnt to live with it, she concealed her thoughts and fears into writing and tried to trick her mind into thinking this was only temporary.

“Tomorrow will be different.” The writer murmured.

Tomorrow was different. The queens would do their first show as a group since Anne left and Anna somehow forgot to get oat milk before heading to the theatre.

“I’ll go get it, I need to clear my head anyway.” Cathy grabbed the spare keys, getting a headstart. The writer cautiously headed to the nearest tube station and took a metro to oxford street. Most of the queens drank oat milk because it was healthier and they didn’t want Kat to feel left out, so Selfridges was visited regularly on weekends.

Walking down the road, Catherine noticed something peculiar. A homeless woman was sleeping on the pavement, her back propped up against the building’s wall; she was covered in blankets.

Anna co-owned a business with Kat where they helped the homeless get back on their feet, and this often resulted in the queens knowing all of them by name. But this woman was different, and Cathy didn’t recognise her.

“Hello?” The writer cautiously approached, “Have you been here long-?” Cathy gasped when she registered the ebony hair which framed the woman’s face. “Annie?”

The 6th queen crouched beside the sleeping clump, carefully pulling back the hem of the blanket so she could see the owner’s face and her fear was confirmed right. Anne’s lips were chapped, there was dirt on her face, the faint remains of a bruise on her left eye and a cut on her chin.

Cathy entered a state of crisis. She still loved Anne, but she couldn’t forgive her for what she did. But then again, was she really going to let her rot on the side of the road? No one deserved that.

The Boleyn girl stirred in her sleep, and Cathy instinctively placed a small hand on her shoulder, “You’re alright.” She whispered, and Anne’s body relaxed.

Cathy felt around for her wallet and pulled out two £20 notes, proceeding to stuff them into Anne’s hood. She took one last look at the remains of Anne Boleyn before kissing her middle and index fingers and resting them against Anne’s shoulder as a goodbye. Cathy then pulled back the blankets and walked in the other direction. The oat milk could wait.

During the next few days, Cathy always passed Anne’s street corner on her way to the theatre, making it her mission to leave small amounts of cash in the 2nd queen’s hood.

On the fourth day, Cathy returned to see Anne awake and drinking something from a flask. Thinking fast, the writer pulled over a stranger and pressed the cash into their hand,

“Please can you give this to the homeless woman on the street corner?”

“I beg your pardon?” The stranger twirled the cash between her fingers,

“Would you mind giving that to the homeless woman?” Cathy pointed at Anne, “I used to know her and I’ve been stopping by every day to give her small amounts of cash.” The stranger looked doubtful, “Please?”

“You’re doing a good deed.” The stranger reluctantly accepted, and Cathy spied from behind a telephone box as the stranger crossed the road and handed Anne the cash. The 6th queen grinned as Anne almost dropped her flask to shake the stranger’s hand, the words ‘thank you’ escaping her mouth multiple times.

However, Anne’s face dropped slightly as the woman shook her head and gestured to the surrounding area, and Cathy couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. But at least Anne had something to eat that night.

The cycle continued for weeks. Anne was dropped secret amounts of cash from random strangers each day until Catherine finally decided to face her fears.

The survivor had just ordered a pair of sausage rolls from Greggs, and it took everything in her not to turn back. Cathy felt like she was walking in slow motion as she approached, her heart was thumping in her ears way too much, and she clenched her jaw. What if Anne didn't want to see her again? There had to be a reason for her continuous absence and even worst, what if Henry was lurking in the bins.

“Annie?” Cathy’s voice was barely a whisper as Anne whipped her head around, her jaw-dropping.

Both queens starred in silence before Cathy inaudibly handed Anne the sausage roll, sitting beside her on the pavement.

“Thank you.” Anne tensed her shoulders and hid her face, “I wish you didn’t see me like this.”

“It’s alright.” Cathy awkwardly assured, “Is it warm enough?”

“It’s great, thank you.” The conversation was horribly formal. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“A few weeks ago I went to buy some oat milk and passed you. I’ve been leaving cash in your hood.”

Cathy swore she could see Anne tear up.

“That was you?”

“Yeah, sorry if it was weird.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciated those! With that money, I brought a flask, gloves, a new coat, blankets and even a sleeping bag!” Cathy tried to stifle a laugh as Anne showed off her possessions with pride, “And next, I’m gonna buy a tent! So, thank you, Cath.”

The nickname struck a nerve and Cathy tried not to cry as she finished her sausage roll.

“Is there anything I could bring you tomorrow?”

“Deodorant!” Anne quipped,

A smile graced Cathy's face, even after so long the pair fell back into their casual conversation as nothing had happened. So much had changed but their relationship was still stable as both queen's pushed past their doubts in exchange for an unfamiliar feeling of home and familiarity.

“Yeah, but you’ve always needed that!” Cathy fired back. Anne dramatically gasped and held a hand to her chest. “Seriously though, what do you need?”

“You’ve done too much for me already.” The Boleyn girl grasped Cathy’s hand before she could go. “It would be rude to ask for me, especially after… well, you know what. So thank you.”

“Anytime.” Anne’s hand lingered longer than necessary, and in any other circumstance, Cathy would’ve kissed Anne’s knuckles and told her she loved her. Instead, Anne let go, and they parted ways until the next day.

_______________

It got to the point where Cathy would leave the house an hour early to see Anne.

The lonely, gay, writer leaves her found family to pick up the pieces from her ex-girlfriend’s destruction while she shares a sausage roll with said ex. It sounds like a news header.

Every other day, Cathy would supply Anne with the daily essentials and Anne would take her on a walk around London, showing her all the city’s secrets.

Like the money, this continued until Cathy saw Anne packing up her belongings and blankets.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re moving me. They want me gone by the end of the day because it looks bad for their brand.” Anne explained.

“Who? Selfridges?”

Anne nodded solemnly.

“We are never buying from them again. Come on, you can stay with me.” Cathy picked up a blanket.

“You know I probably have fleas, right? There’s this homeless man who I’m friends with, and his dog is always scratching. I can’t stay at your house.” Anne grabbed the blanket from Cathy’s hands.

“We have flea spray at home from when Kat found that puppy.” Cathy snatched the blanket back.

“Have you forgotten the four people living there who hate me? One of them is my cousin.” Anne claimed the blanket.

“Big deal, don’t think I haven’t noticed those bruises on your neck and wrists. I know what you’re doing. 40 quid a week isn’t enough to buy a tent, Anne.”

The energy dipped and reclaiming the blanket was annoyingly easy.

The Boleyn girl hushed her voice and twiddled her thumbs, “That was uncalled for.”

“Please?” Anne practically melted when Cathy cupped her cheek, “Come home with me.”

“Okay.”

Smuggling a gremlin into the house was more problematic than Cathy thought. Anne had to wait in the garden until the queens had gone to bed and then climb up into Cathy’s window without making a sound.

“Put your leg up!’ Cathy whisper-shouted.

“Do you really think I'm THAT flexible?!” Anne laughed, “I haven’t done the splits in 5 weeks!”

“Lower your voice, you crackhead! Jane is right below us.”

“Oh, fuck Jane!” Anne winked at Cathy who almost dropped the Boleyn girl back onto the grass.

“Just pull!”

Finding strength, Cathy pulled Anne through the window, so she landed on top of her, the pair erupting into fits of laughter.

“I swear someone would’ve heard that!” Anne worried,

“Holy mother of god- you do stink!” Cathy slid out from under Anne and closed her nose.

_______________

“Do you still have that coconut shampoo?” Anne fidgeted around their bathroom, liked she belonged there.

“It should be under the sink.” Cathy scrolled through her phone.

“I still don’t get why you have to be in here,” Anne muttered.

“Because someone has to be in a bathroom for it to be locked! That’s just basic knowledge!” Cathy glanced up from her phone as Anne removed her top, “besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“You’re lucky I’m only letting that comment slide because I haven’t felt hot water in weeks.”

Cathy knew she shouldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from wincing at the bruises on Anne’s back.

“How’d you get those bruises?”

“Looking already, are we?” Anne turned the shower on.

“I’m just curious.”

“I was given the last packet of socks at the homeless shelter, and some dudes were pretty desperate. Which is stupid because I would’ve given them a pair if they’d asked.”

The writer nodded but needed to ask one last question.

“What about the cuts on your arm?”

“What cuts.”

What should’ve been a question came out as a statement, and Anne quickly ended their conversation. Still, that didn’t stop Catherine from eying the vertical cuts above Anne’s wrist which were carved into her skin like the scar on her neck.

Cathy stayed silent for the remainder of Anne’s shower. The stream of water calmed her, and the steam put her muscles at ease. Anne hummed the faint tune of a lullaby, and for once, everything was back to normal.

Anne was sunk back into Cathy’s room smelling of strawberries and coconut, they sprayed flea killer on almost all of Anne’s belongings (despite Cathy’s protests). Before ending the night on Cathy’s carpet eating ice cream and watching Tangled.

Once Anne had passed out on the writer’s shoulder, she began scribbling down her thoughts in her notebook:

‘Why do we fall in love so easily? Even when it’s not right? I don’t know how it all turned to lies, and sometimes I think it’s better to never ask why. And even though Anne hurt me, I can’t help but forgive her.’

☁️ I hope you liked... the first 3 chapters are already on ao3 but i figured i’d post to tumblr too! Let me know about tag lists! xx ☁️

[tiarasandteacups]

Teacup's Name Opinions: The Queen, Prince Philip and their children

I am a Name Nerd. Seriously. I have a two page list of my favourite names that I want to give my eventual children, so I have OPINIONS.

These are my opinions, you are totally allowed and even encouraged to disagree and tell me what you are thinking.

Oh and I am also gonna offer up my own alternate names, because that's kinda fun. Or at least it will be fun for me 😂

So here we go with part 1, the names of The Queen and her kids.

Elizabeth Alexandra Mary

I actually really like her name. It's traditional, but that's not necessary a bad things. Also she was born in 1926, so really, what can you expect? Though, I do have a pet peeve about parents naming kids after themselves, and as the Queen Mum was also Elizabeth, that's kinda weirding me out. But it's timeless and she wears it really well.

Teacup's version: Charlotte Elizabeth Mary

Because I am a sucker for history: Princess Charlotte of Wales (1796 – 1817) was the only child of George, Prince of Wales (later King George IV), and his wife, Caroline of Brunswick. If she had outlived both her grandfather King George III and her father, she would have become Queen of the United Kingdom; but she died at the age of 21, predeceasing them both. She was also the Diana of her age, and as she died in childbirth the whole country was in mourning. So I would have digged the idea of an eventual Queen carrying that name.

Philip

It's actually one of my favourite boy's names. It's timeless. And the Queen and I both love horses, so I mean, it's literally perfect 😂

Teacup's version: Philip.

He gets to keep his name.

Charles Philip Arthur George

From all the boys name from him and his brothers, Charles' name is actually my favourite. It flows really, really well. Though for fun:

Teacup's version: Albert Philip William George

I really like the idea of the Queen naming her firstborn after the name her father preferred. Also the UK would finally get their King Albert. Queen Victoria would be delighted.

Anne Elizabeth Alice Louise

Again, it flows really, really well. I don't like the name Anne, but FUN FACT: St. Anne is the patron saint of horses. So maybe it was meant to be.

Teacup's version: Maud Elizabeth Charlotte Alice

Teacup's Anne would still be named after her mother and grandmother's, I'll just give her a snazzy first name. And Maud fits her perfectly in my opinion.

Andrew Albert Christian Edward

This sounds like the Queen and Prince Philip had no idea what to name the third kid, so they just randomly throw together all the names that nobody else has yet used. The name is terrible, so it kinda fits the wearer (I have a whole rant about Prince Andrew, but this is really not the time or the place.)

Teacup's version: Henry Arthur Christian John

Henry works with the two and one syllable names of Albert and Maud and the rest is literally me also randomly throwing together names, just like the Queen and Prince Philip did in my head. Though John is an interesting case of a name always having a tragic backstory in the royal family.

Edward Richard Antony Louis

Seriously, they were so running out of names that Edward got Andrew's middle names? I mean it's better than his brother's, but still pretty terrible. Though his initials spelling out EARL makes me chuckle.

Teacup's version: Edward Charles Richard James

He also gets to keep his first name. Just his middle names flow a little bit better now I think.

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Burned Chapter 13

As always, coffee is appreciated! https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

Edward sat rather sullenly in Roy's office the next day, a frown etched on his face.

"Edward. Quit sulking."

"You don't believe me."

"I didn't say that. I just didn't see it for myself. I've imagined things when I was tired before."

"I'm not tired!" Ed banged both fists on his desk, causing everyone to pause and look up at him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I know what I saw."

The door to the office burst open, and Hughes stood there, looking out of breath.

"Hughes?" Roy cocked an eyebrow.

"We've got a severed arm found in an alley last night. It was a woman's."

"Just an arm? No body?"

Hughes frowned. "Just an arm. We... we're expecting to find more later. But the marks on the skin- it's our guy. It was about 6 blocks from here- it was right under our noses. We've got a few people nearby who were out late last night to come in to interview, but nobody's said anything that stands out..."

"It was the clown."

All eyes turned to Ed.

"What?"

"Mustang and I came back to the office late last night to grab some papers. Mustang went in and I stayed in the car and I saw him. Six feet tall, wearing a clown suit, painted face, red balloon. Smoking a cigarette beneath the street light. I was gonna trap him in the cement of the sidewalk and question him, but Mustang came back out and distracted me, so he got away."

Hughes frowned, turning to Mustang. "You saw him too?"

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I didn't. I saw a silhouette, maybe, but it might've been the light playing tricks on my mind. There was no sign of anyone when we got there..."

"I saw him."

"I'm not saying you didn't, Ed, but I didn't see him."

"I wanna sit in on the interviews with the people who were out last night." Ed said seriously, turning to Hughes.

Hughes looked uneasy.

"You're only to listen. You don't say a word, nothing to suggest anything to the witnesses. You're to report back to me immediately after." Roy said.

"That's fair. Let's get started. The sooner we get this creep off the streets, the better." Ed turned and strode briskly out of the room, with Hughes looking hesitant.

"You sure you want to let him in on this? It's a murder investigation..."

"I'm not letting him see the case files or the pictures. But he's convinced he saw something... and with how dead set he is on it, I'm not convinced he didn't."

"Alright. But just the interviews. After that he's done with this case."

"I agree."

Most of the people who were outside around midnight were doing pretty mundane things, it turned out. Stumbling home from a night out with friends, stopping to relieve themselves on a brick building. Walking to the corner store for late night cigarettes. The occasional college student walking home from a late night studying in the library.

Ed quickly grew bored, but Hughes never faltered, recording every detail like his life depended on it. Still, no one had seen anything unusual, until they got to the last man. Henry Johnson was unremarkable, about 5' 4", and he had to go to work early as a baker, so his morning was at midnight.

He'd been taking his dog outside to go to the bathroom at the park, and saw the call for people who'd been outside in the area in the newspaper, so he'd come in.

"What time were you out?"

"About quarter after midnight to twelve thirty. I was walking by Meadow and Broad street, taking my girlfriend's dog to the park to pee. I saw a guy on Broad out smoking a cigarette, but he's Frank and he's usually out there at that time so it didn't bother me. It wasn't til I was starting back home I saw the clown."

Hughes stopped taking his notes and looked up. "Clown?"

"Yeah. Big guy, at least six feet, dressed as a clown. Walking down the street with a red balloon."

"He was smoking a cigarette, wasn't he?" Ed spoke up from where he'd been sitting in the back corner.

The man nodded. "Yeah, yeah he was. Freaked me the hell out. Normal people don't do that crap. I just hurried up and went home locked my door. Didn't wanna be out with that."

"What time did you see the clown?"

"Oh, twenty after twelve I'd say..."

Ed had already stood and was heading for the door. Hughes didn't bother following him out.

"Someone else saw him. I was right."

"I never said you were wrong, Ed, it just seemed... Odd."

"Well chopping women up and leaving there body parts around the city isn't exactly normal either." Ed's eyes were stone.

Roy sighed. "You're getting too involved in this case."

"I'm getting too involved!? Without me you wouldn't have known about that creepy clown in the first place!"

"And now we do, and that's good. But Hughes and I both agreed you're getting too involved. I'm not even supposed to be on this case- I'm just helping as a favor to Hughes."

"I find the only damn lead and you tell me to quit it!?"

"Ed. Stop. Go home. Spend the day with Al. You have research to be doing, don't you? On the philosopher's stone?"

Ed's gaze softened slightly at the mention of his brother. "Yeah, I do. I have to finish those reports..." his eyes drifted to his desk.

"You can do them tomorrow. I'm your superior officer, and I'm telling you, go take a break."

"Fine. You coming home for dinner or am I eating by myself?"

"I'll be home by 5. If you wouldn't mind heating the oven up for me we'll have macaroni or something. Now go on."

1 week passed. 1 week of them finding a body part every day, until the entire woman had been assembled. Her name had been Patricia Matthews, a local prostitute.

Ed didn't say much about the case, though Roy caught him reading about it in the papers. Everything seemed fine. Ed's anxiety from his accident was well managed with his journaling and relaxation techniques, and while he was nearly completely healed by this point, he made no mention of moving back to the military dorms, and Mustang didn't bring it up either. Truth be told, he liked having the Elric boys around. He hadn't realized how quiet his residence was until the boys had moved in with him.

Still, Roy was pretty sure the kid was still having nightmares. He'd looked rather tired in the mornings for the past few days. He found himself palming open the door to the boy's room around one in the morning, checking to see if he was sleeping peacefully.

He didn't hear any breathing, and he stepped closer to the lump beneath the blankets, expecting to hear breathing and see pale locks of hair on the pillow... only to find a mass of pillows stuffed underneath the duvet to look like a sleeping form.

The wind blew the curtains to his right, and he realized with sharp alarm the bedroom window was wide open.

Edward was healed now, he'd clearly had no trouble climbing down from the second floor to the sidewalk below.

Roy's heart jumped to his threat, and for a brief moment he found it hard to stem the panic swelling within him.

Where the hell had Edward gone? He'd been a fool, thinking the kid was tired from nightmares, when really he'd been sneaking out...

And then he knew. Dread and certainty settled in his gut like a brick, and he calmly headed down the hall, almost robotically, to knock on the door.

"Alphonse, I'm going out for a little while. I should be back soon."

"Okay, Colonel." Alphonse didn't sleep, and he clearly hadn't noticed Edward was gone, or he'd be panicking too. Al was too sensible to let his brother go running off in the middle of the night alone...

He grabbed his keys and started his car, and ten minutes later his headlights were illuminating a small form in a red cloak sitting on the curb, just outside the office.

He threw the car into park, jumping out and slamming the door with much more force than necessary.

"Edward." He barked.

Ed jumped up from where he'd been sitting on the curb, surprised. "What!?"

"Just how, pray tell, do you explain sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night?"

"I needed fresh air." Ed said simply.

Roy looked down road at the streetlight, frowning. "You're looking for him."

"So?"

"You're looking for that clown, who may be a murderer, at one in the morning, every night, alone..." Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. "You didn't even tell anyone where you were going! Do you know how stupid that is!?"

"Not as dumb as not looking for him at all! I've seen the papers, they keep finding pieces of that girl! I'm a state alchemist, I don't need you looking out for me all the time, I can handle myself!"

"Of course you can." Roy's vice was dripping with sarcasm. "That's why you moved in with me after you got burned, because you were so capable of changing your bandages and taking your medicine and handling your anxiety attacks..."

"You were the one who burned me."

Roy stopped dead in his tracks. Ed stood perfectly still, a slight breeze catching his cloak and rustling it in the wind.

Roy found himself unable to breathe for a brief moment as the world seemed to stop completely, before he took a breath, acknowledging just how much that hurt. He's right. YOU burned him. That little voice in his head spoke up. His insides were a rolling cocktail of emotions he couldn't deal with right now. Edward was strong, but he was over-confident, and over-tired, and a child. And Roy needed to be the adult here.

Be the adult.

"Ed, get in the car."

"Huh? Why?" Ed looked surprised Roy wasn't shouting back at him, getting into his war of words.

"It's one in the morning, and we should both be in bed. Especially you, considering how often you've been sneaking out. Get in the car. We'll talk about this later. Right now we both need to be at home, asleep."

Ed paused, looking across the road at the empty circle of light beneath the street light.

"Ed. Hughes and I will find the clown. But being exhausted and searching the street every night isn't gonna help anyone."

"There is a clown." even though he was exhausted, Ed looked vindicated, and a slight smile crept onto his face as he said it.

"Yeah, there is. And investigations will find him. Investigations. Not you, and not at one in the morning. Now get in the car."

Ed did as he was told, but he still had that little smirk on his face at being right.

You burned me... Roy's amusement faded as he recalled Ed's words and his steely expression minutes earlier.

Still, he parked the car and led Ed inside. He was the adult. He shut Ed's window and sternly told him to stay in bed, that they'd talk about this in the morning.

He was the adult until he got into his own bedroom and closed the door, and then he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling and closed his eyes and tried to unhear those words.

You burned me...

Normally, his room smelled like aftershave, but he couldn't shake the scent of burnt flesh. No matter how hard he buried his face in his pillow, he could smell it. It was too hot, and water leaked from his eyes slightly as he struggled to control his breathing...

It'd been awhile since he'd had a night this bad. Normally he'd have a glass or two of whiskey to pass out, but he couldn't bring himself to, not now...

Breathe. Just breathe... he told himself. And slowly, the bedsheets stopped suffocating him and he was able to lay, uncomfortable but not stifling hot, and the scent of burnt flesh faded to unwashed linen and waxy burning candles.

He just laid there, not asleep but not completely awake, tired by his own anxiety and mental ordeal. One hour passed, two... it was nearly three in the morning when the quiet was shattered by a scream.

He was on his feet before he knew it, sprinting down the hall.

"S-Stop, he's my brother! I-it burns! Stop!"

Strangled shouting as Edward struggled in the bedsheets.

"Edward! Ed!" he unraveled the cocoon of blankets the boy had wrapped him in, but Ed was still thrashing.

"Stop, stop, ah god why does it hurt!?"

Edward's eyes were half open and glassy. He hadn't had a night terror like this in weeks. Ed never let Alphonse near him when he was in this state, and by now the suit of armor knew to stay away.

Roy's own ills and fatigue were quickly forgotten, and he slipped back to what he'd done all those weeks ago when Ed had just been learning what nightmares and PTSD was, wrapping his arms around the flailing boy and holding him still, pulling him close to him and wrapping him in a tense hug.

"Fullmetal- Ed- Ed, it's a night terror. Shhh, shhh, it's alright, Ed, it's okay..."

Slowly but surely, the boy's struggles stopped and mellowed to harsh breathing. "R-roy..." his voice was hardly a harsh whisper. "I-it hurt so bad. I could feel it- heating my automail, burning my skin..."

"I know, I know, but it was just a bad dream. Breathe, breathe Edward, it's okay..."

Slowly, the boy's choked sobs evened out into shaky but steady breathing.

"It's alright, Edward..." the boy had sweat clean through his shirt, it'd been that anxiety provoking, and he ran his fingers through the sweaty locks of blond hair, trying to soothe the boy.

"I know, buddy, I know. Breathe for me..." Roy took deep breaths, demonstrating what to do as Edward mirrored him.

"I...I didn't mean it..."

"Didn't mean what?" Roy frowned, looking down at the tear-stained child's face. The moonlight made his golden locks look silver and his face even more pale.

"I...I said you burned me... I-it was an accident... I know that. Y-you took care of me... A-and you w-woke up and stayed with me all those nights I got scared, and you took me to the doctors... A-and I repayed you like a selfish brat. I...I know you didn't mean to... I don't deserve your help... S-sorry, I'm sorry..." Ed dissolved into quiet crying and buried his face in Roy's chest.

For the second time that night, Roy found himself speechless. Out of shock, and... gratitude? Ed's forgiveness seemed to have lifted a weight off his shoulders, his gratitude proved that despite all his mistakes, the accident, burning Edward... He'd done something right in taking the boy in and trying his best to care for him.

"Oh Ed... You're just a kid. It's alright..." He reached up and wove his fingers into the back of Ed's blonde locks, holding him steady and just being solid. His other hand rubbed soothing circles on his shuddering back, and gradually, the boys sobs quieted to cries, and whimpers, before he was finally still.

"A-are you mad?"

"No. How can I be mad? I'm just glad you've calmed down. You were tired, we all say things we don't mean..."

"You gonna kick me out?" Ed's voice was slightly muffled as he was still clinging to Roy for dear life.

Roy laughed. Ed flinched and peeled himself back, looking watery-eyed and exhausted and surprised.

"If I was going to kick you out, I wouldn't have bothered to come find you outside tonight. I'd have told you to pack up when you got home. I'm not sending you anywhere Edward. You are stubborn, and impossible, and headstrong, and I'm not going to make you stay if you don't want to, but you are ALWAYS welcome here. You can stay as long as you like. I... I like having you boys around."

"Really?" Ed sniffled, looking baffled.

Roy chuckled. "Yes, really, you loud-mouthed flea."

"Hey." Ed protested half-heartedly, and Roy ruffled his hair.

"But what you did was dangerous, Ed. Sneaking out without telling anyone where you were going, going after a killer- it was dumb, and stupid. And I'm not letting you off the hook for it. It was reckless, and you're grounded- not allowed to go anywhere without my permission- for a week. You understand? I think that's fair, considering the stunts you've pulled. And you're already a bit punished, your anxiety is thru the roof and you're exhausted... Get some sleep. Alright?"

Roy went to stand, but was held still when a hand grabbed his shirt.

Ed looked up at him with those pitiful golden eyes, looking afraid. "Stay?"

He and Ed hadn't slept in the same bed since the first few days after Edward had been burned, when he'd needed Roy to help talk him through the flashbacks.

But he laid back down anyways, and listened as the boy's breathing evened out beside him. His own breathing was calm and steady, as he watched Ed's sleeping face.

Was this what it was like to be a father, he wondered? Twice in one day, one moment in the worst possible anguish, the next with a heart so full it could burst...

I failed you once, Edward. But I will never give up on you. was his last thought, before he, too succumbed to a well-earned sleep.

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

12 Angry Men: The Characters

While 12 Angry Men has a remarkably small cast for a motion picture, the problem is that twelve of the cast members happen to be main characters.

Twelve is a large number of main characters to balance out, especially when you only see them over the course of one day, in only one setting.  The writers had the challenging job of making each character unique enough that the audience doesn’t mix them up, and while some of them are more distinct than others, each character is different enough so that the viewers can tell them apart.

As a result, 12 Angry Men is left with a surprisingly large main cast, full of characters that are neither infallible heroes, nor despicable villains.  Much like Casablanca, it would seem like this film has an issue deciding a protagonist, as the character who would seem to fulfill this role, Henry Fonda’s Juror #8, doesn’t have a ‘problem pertaining to the plot’ that’s unique from any of the other characters.  They all have the same problem: they need to come up with a verdict.  And indeed, this film would seem to be without a true protagonist if not for another element: the protagonist’s reaction towards the problem.

You see, while every other character begins the story either certain of the boy’s guilt, or just wanting to say they are so that the jury ordeal can be over with, it is only Juror #8 who believes that the case deserves a closer examination.  

As you may have guessed, today, we’re going to be examining the characters of 12 Angry Men, starting with our protagonist: Juror #8.  Let’s take a  look.  (Spoilers below!)

Juror #8 is a rather interesting protagonist in that, as I mentioned in previous articles, he could be any one of us.  He’s the ‘hero’ of the story, not because of any great feat, but because he was logical and thoughtful enough to take his job as a juror seriously enough to put real thought into the case at hand.  This is not a story about a man who is certain of his correctness, this is a story about a man who is uncertain about someone’s guilt, and there is a huge difference.  From the moment of his Establishing Character Moment of quiet reflection at the window, he’s in action to make sure that he, and the rest of the jury, comes to a fair, if not right, conclusion.  

Juror #8 never claims he is right, merely that he has reasonable doubt that leads him to believe that he might be right.  He wants to talk about the verdict, he wants to be careful, because a life is on the line.  He takes his responsibility seriously, and that, at first, is what sets him up as our protagonist.  It is his vote of ‘not guilty’ that gets the plot going proper, for without him, the film would have come to a whopping, depressing, ten minutes tops.

So, we know Juror #8 is responsible, and tries to be moral.  What else do we know about him?

For one thing, he’s sharp.

Juror #8 knows that he can’t convince anyone to change their vote without some good evidence, which he brings and addresses.  Bit by bit, he chips away the certainty around the testimonies, alibis, and evidence, bringing up arguments and doubts about the elements of the case that the other jurors are absolutely certain about.  He’s quick to figure out people’s angles and point out flaws in logic, and he’s not afraid to call out someone’s bias.  His exchange with Juror #3 proves this, as Juror #8 accuses him (rightfully so) of wanting to kill the defendant due to personal reasons.

Juror #8 is a Guile Hero, using his wits and brains to pick apart the evidence, the original Rogue Juror archetype, wanting to take his time to get through the facts.  He cares about getting to the bottom of the facts, and he wants to get the other jurors on the side of justice as well.

Wait a minute, you say.  I’ll buy that he’s the ‘hero’, but protagonists are supposed to change by the end of the story.  There’s no sign of that at all!

Honestly, you’re right.

Juror #8, while clearly being the ‘hero’ of the film never seems to ‘change’ by the end of the film.  In fact, he is the only character not to change, in vote as well as action.  So what are we to make of that?

If the rest of the cast were as immovable as Juror #8, I would agree that his ‘protagonist’ status would certainly be called into question, and we may indeed be left with a protagonist-less film, however, there is one element that prevents that from happening: the fact that the other jurors do change their minds.

He’s the grounding element for the audience, courageous and standing for human decency.  The point of his character is that he’s unyielding, unchanging in the face of peer pressure.  It is in his influence, his changing of the other characters, that his test as a protagonist comes.

Of course, he succeeds, but the road is difficult.  The first ally rallied to his cause, after a few minutes of deliberation, is Juror #9.

Juror #9 (Joseph Sweeney) is an observant Cool Old Guy, the Lancer to Juror #8.  His abilities in Awesomeness by Analysis play a huge part in convincing the remaining jurors to change their votes, by standing with Juror #8 against the pressure and displaying a great deal of insight and sympathy.  He’s also possessing of some pretty progressive ideas, not being bigoted like some of the younger jurors around him.  While needing some thought before changing his vote, Juror #9 is not afraid to speak his mind and morality, making him a valuable ally in changing the course of the vote.

Leading us to the next vote change: Juror #5.

Juror #5 (Jack Klugman) has a bit in common with the defendant, coming from a similar background.  He also grew up in the slums, and takes it quite personally that some of the jurors think that that’s suitable explanation for murder.  He’s an invaluable addition, as it is his experience witnessing knife-fights that leads to the debunking of the grip necessary for the boy to have murdered his father.  He’s a Nice Guy from a rough neighborhood, and ends up producing some key points in favor of the Not Guilty verdict.

Next to switch his vote is Juror #11 (George Voskovec), a man with Immigrant Patriotism, faith in the American dream of democracy and justice.  The ‘Token Minority’ of the twelve, Juror #11 begins thinking of, and asking his own questions that can’t be satisfyingly answered with the evidence given.  He’s a polite man, with a great concern with being fair and upright.  In fact, it is one of his lines that best sums up the point of the film:

“We have a responsibility. This is a remarkable thing about democracy. That we are … what is the word? … Ah, notified! That we are notified by mail to come down to this place and decide on the guilt or innocence of a man we have not known before. We have nothing to gain or lose by our verdict. This is one of the reasons why we are strong. We should not make it a personal thing.”

He is here to remind us of the seriousness of jury duty, the importance of justice and fairness.  His character warns us not to take our privileges for granted, something that we need to be reminded of.  He is strong-minded, of strong character, and strong-willed

Leading us to the next switch in votes: Juror #2.

Juror #2 (John Fielder) is a timid man who doesn’t seem to have much of a backbone at first.  He’s an Extreme Doormat, unable to really explain his opinions, tending to go along with the tide at first.  As the film progresses, he does grow more of a spine, later evidenced by bringing up the question of the stab wound, which had been bothering him.  Had he been more timid, there’s a possibility that the vote might have swapped once more, and Juror #8’s cause would be lost.

Then there’s Juror #6 (Edward Binns).

Juror #6 doesn’t have a whole lot of personality, admittedly.  He doesn’t have a lot of dialogue, but he is fair minded, willing to change his mind if proven wrong.  His chief moment of character is standing up to Juror #3’s interrupting of Juror #9, telling him that he ought to have more respect for his elders.  In the end, Juror #6’s character is the switching point, announcing the stalemate, 6 to 6 for a vote.

The balance is changed again by Juror #7 (Jack Warden).

Juror #7 is a self-absorbed person, whose chief concern in the film is the baseball tickets ‘burning a hole’ in his pocket.  There’s a game he wants to get to, and his chief concern is voting whichever way that will get him out the fastest.  He pretends to be offended when his motives are questioned, but it’s clear that he’s just concerned with leaving.  Unfortunately, his is the attitude we can most easily see happening in ourselves with the same task, distracted with Skewed Priorities and too busy being a Deadpan Snarker to put forth the effort our legal system deserves.

The next vote for Not Guilty goes to Juror #12 (Robert Webber), a Charmer and a Ditherer, almost as easily swayed as Juror #2.  He works in an advertising agency, and spends most of the proceedings doodling or playing tic-tac-toe with the other jurors, too busy to pay attention.  He approaches jury much like a board meeting, and as a result, his opinions aren’t all that substantial.  All the same, he does become the eighth to side with Juror #8, further cementing the majority.

Following him is Juror #1, (Martin Balsam) the Foreman, a reasonable man who just wants this organized.  He’s a football coach, a soft-spoken Reasonable Authority Figure who is willing to take charge and keep everyone in order.  He’s always trying to reign things in and keep them under control, a vital element to the powder-keg that is the remainder of the jury.

Especially the next vote change: Juror #10 (Ed Begley).

One of the closest things this film has to an antagonist, the constantly coughing, Politically Incorrect Villain Juror #10 doesn’t need any evidence.  To him, the boy’s background is enough.  He’s a bitter, bigoted, racist Hate Sink, convinced begrudgingly to change his vote after his Villianous Breakdown rant, defeated by the lack of support from his peers.  

One of the final holdouts, though not a villain, is Juror #4 (E.G. Marshall), another Reasonable Authority Figure and an Implacable Man.  He is very logical and reasonable, holding out on changing his vote not out of malice, but of genuine concern for the facts.  Wearing a set of Stoic Spectacles (Smart People Wear Glasses, after all), Juror #4 serves as a Hero Antagonist version of The Spock, countering with good arguments and valid questions.  In the end, after his own reasons are shaken, Juror #4 graciously admits this and changes his vote, leaving us with the other closest thing this film has to an antagonist: Juror #3.

Juror #3 (Lee J. Cobb) is a bitter Big Bad with a Hair Trigger Temper, the Evil Counterpart to Juror #8.  In a case of Believing Your Own Lies, Juror #3 is convinced he is impartial, the chief advocate for the death penalty of the group without realizing he is projecting his bad relationship with his son onto the case.  He, too, switches his vote after a Villainous Breakdown, and Paper Destruction of Anger, but it is important to note that this is a Villainy-Free Villain, a Tragic Villain.

Juror #3 believes his opinion is firmly rooted in the facts, but it becomes very clear as the film progresses that he doesn’t really have as good a leg to stand on as he seems to think.  His anger at the defendant is anger at his son, anger at all sons who ‘disrespect’ their fathers.  He is unable to get his way in his family, and in the jury, and the result causes his bluster, and his inevitable downfall.  In the end, after a Heel Realization, he changes his vote, the final Not Guilty.

As with all the characters, we don’t know if he changed his mind or his ways.  For all we know, these men lived the rest of their lives untouched by the events in the jury room on the hottest day of the year, and honestly, that’s not a huge surprise.

These men, while not sharing the same backgrounds as many of us, are meant to be us.  We are given a responsibility, a privilege to affect the decisions in our system of justice.  We are meant to use it, to take advantage of it, and as a result, we are visible in these men.  Whether we’re crusaders for justice, impatient and dismissive, bitter and resentful, or simply taking it for granted, these twelve angry men are us, the audience.  It is up to us who we try to emulate, what values we hold dear, and how clearly we view them.

It is the ambiguity and the sheer brutal honesty in which these characters are depicted that this film’s legacy is made.  Twelve men without names (aside from two in the epilogue) all too real to be comfortable for American audiences.  This is, if not a realistic film, a real film, a mirror held to ourselves and our views on the systems we live with.  It’s up to us to decide what we do once we catch a glimpse of the reflection.

Thank you guys so much for reading!  Don’t forget that the ask box is always open for questions, suggestions, discussions, or just saying hi.  I hope to see you all in the next article.

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

My Favorite Pairing

Thank you for the tag @burnsoslow!!! It was a hard decision between these two and Bryce & Casey... but this felt like a little bit more of a challenge... so, here we go lol

Book: Distant Shores

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x Peyton Bellamy (I used my series Tides of Fate for this where it would diverge from canon)

Relationship status: It’s Complicated

 Song(s): My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion. Ok so this is cheesy as hell, I know, but I swear I’ve heard hints of this song as part of the music that plays during the kissing scenes with Edward in the game. Plus, after that last chapter yesterday and the possible futures, it just kinda hit me all over again as perfect for them. Aaaannnddd…maybe it has something to do with the fact that @burnsoslow gave me an idea for a scene in my series that is based off of Titanic. So yeah, the girl who hates cheesy things went all in on this one LMAO

Ideal date: They love to sneak away together up to the crow’s nest late at night when everyone is asleep. They know they have their own quarters to be alone together, but going up there reminds them of how it all started for them during Peyton’s first night on the ship. Plus, it’s a killer view.

A show they watch together: Ok, so obviously there’s no TV for them, but they secretly love to watch Maggie and Henry bicker over Henry’s cooking and Maggie’s obsessive control over the ingredients he buys (and how he stores them). Peyton often makes jokes about it being better than her favorite sitcom, The Big Bang Theory, from the future, and all Edward can do is smile and shake his head at her obscure references.

Their favorite meal to share: It’s not so much a particular meal, so much as it is where they eat it. They love to get dinner at the tavern in Tiburon whenever they have the chance. It’s not that they don’t love Henry’s cooking, it’s just that sometimes he gets a little too creative. They both prefer a simpler (and familiar lol) cuisine.

Favorite thing about each other :  

Physically: Edward loves her long, dark brown hair. Whenever they are out to sea, she keeps in it a sideswept braid so that it is out of her way and out of her face. But at night and when they are docked, she lets it hang loosely and he cannot get enough of running his fingers through it. Peyton honestly couldn’t be happier about that because she absolutely adores the feeling of him playing with her hair (both because it’s such a tender action and because it feels amazing). He also loves how expressive her eyes are – she can school her face into any expression she desires, but her eyes always give away her true feelings. But that’s probably only because he can’t take his eyes off of hers and the way they practically change colors with her moods.

Peyton is an absolute sucker for Edward’s eyes. The deep brown of them always sucks her in (she’s always had a thing for dark brown eyes), to the point where he will start laughing at her because she was so lost in them that she didn’t even hear what he was saying to her. She also loves his hands – the way they are always so strong, yet gentle, when he holds her near. It’s as if he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold tight enough, she’ll slip away but also is afraid to hold her too tightly because he doesn’t want to break her. She’s also learned to read what the different ways he holds her in those hands means – the way she can tell what she needs by the way he’s holding her.

Personality: Edward loves how stubborn and passionate Peyton is. As much as it may drive him crazy a lot of the time some of the time, he loves the way she never backs down from him. He met his match, in more ways than one, when she appeared on the admiral’s ship that day. She will call him out on his bullshit when necessary and is never afraid to speak up with a different idea than his. But, at the same time, he knows she has his back without question. What’s more is that she uses that passion to motivate the crew when he can’t seem to find the words himself.

Peyton loves how fierce Edward is. He carries that with him in everything he does – from pillaging and plundering ships, chasing down the admiral, and protecting the crew to most importantly loving her. Even before they started to figure out whatever this is between them, she knew how important she was to him. He may not have said the words, but his actions were screaming loud and clear.

Who ...

made the first move: Well… I mean, Peyton tried her first night on the ship (back when she was still technically a prisoner) but they got interrupted. The first successful attempt came from Peyton in Edward’s cabin after she was pulled into a time rift. She was injured and Edward was worried, so his guard was down and he didn’t put up as much of a fight as he normally would have.

cooks better: Edward, although Henry hates letting him in the kitchen.

dances better: Peyton because Edward forgets to dance when she’s around. He’s too busy staring.

wakes up first: Edward. My girl hates mornings with a passion. Dear, sweet Edward does what he can to make sure she doesn’t have to wake up early if at all possible. And when he does have to wake her up early, it makes sure it is a delightful experience.

is funnier: Peyton. Her sharp, sarcastic wit was an acquired taste for the brooding captain, but now he doesn’t know how to get through a day without it. (In fact, if he does, he knows there’s something seriously wrong.)

is more organized: They both actually mesh pretty well here. Obviously, the confined spaces of the ship have force Edward to maintain organization. Add to that the fact that Peyton is a control freak that hates clutter and you have a very, very organized cabin. Actually, make that the whole ship. LOL

has a better taste in music: Peyton would say her (she had more options in the future), but Edward says everything she’s described to him sounds terrible (although he loves to listen to her sing songs from the future when she thinks she’s alone, even if he’d never admit it).

is more likely to scream at the sight of a spider:  Without a doubt, it would be Peyton. She’s taken every challenge that comes with being 200+ years out of her time in stride, but at the first sight of a spider she is freaking the literal fuck out. The first time it happened in front of Edward, he laughed so hard and long that the spider was gone before he could try to kill it. She will never let him live that one down.

cries more at movies: She’s not a crier, but since Edward’s never seen a movie, it would have to be Peyton.

is more likely to steal all the covers at night: Edward. He knows he does it too, but he doesn’t feel guilty because it means that Peyton curls up tight against him. It’s the only way he can get a good night’s sleep.

the first to fall in love: Oof. This is tough. Peyton was definitely the first to admit her feelings, both to herself and to Edward, but I actually think Edward fell first, even if he didn’t exactly realize that’s what was happening. It was why he was so adamant that they maintain the distance in their relationship. He was not only worried about the danger his love for her would put her in, but also how he might not be able to resist her if they were to grow closer.

the first to say I love you: Ok so I technically answered this in the previous question, but I love this moment, so… It was definitely Peyton the same night as their first kiss. It had been a hellacious night for her and she was done denying her feelings for Edward. Not to mention he was threatening to send her back to the future, so she knew she needed to pull out all the stops to get her way.

Tagging @anotherbeingsworld @raleiighcarrera if they would like to join in

[jeks-tgs]

Don't Lose Your Head AU - Part 4

"Robert, I. Am. Fine."

Henry was honestly starting to get annoyed. His head was aching from being on all day, and Robert, though he meant well, was still fussing over him.

"Henry, every time you stop bleeding, you start up again within a few minutes!" Robert cried out, throwing his arms around. Henry had barely managed to convince the man to take him back to the Society instead of the hospital, and now Robert was doing his best as Henry's impromptu doctor. One he didn't need. And one who was unintentionally prolonging his bleeding by stressing him out. It didn't help that Edward had retreated deeper into his chest, huddled up and unconscious as he tried to calm down. The poor thing had bad memories involving cells and cuffs, just another lovely little memento left over from their days with Henry's dear old dad, and the jail visit had triggered a bad episode that the blond had taken upon himself to feel in Henry's place. He just wanted Robert to stop fussing and leave him alone so he could slip into his room and coax the younger Dullahan out and comfort him. But mostly, he just needed away from Robert long enough to cool off so he didn't lose his head (oh, the irony).

Thankfully, as if the gods had heard his silent prayers, a knock startled the two, and Ms. Flowers poked her head in with a timid wave.

"Doctor? Frankenstein's waking up, it seems," She informed him. Barely holding back a loud cry of elation, Henry leapt to his feet, quickly folloeing after the woman.

"Thank you for alerting me, Ms. Flowers," He said as they walked together. The young woman seemed to be thinking, then turned to him, stopping him just outside the door to the guest room Frankenstein was currently occupying. He raised a brow, confused.

"Doctor," She began awkwardly. "Frankenstein's monster.. he.. he's been asking for you. Urgently." Henry frowned, perplexed. The sound of grumbling and coughing caught his attention, and he pushed the door open before Flowers could say anymore. The Creature visibly lit up at the sight of him, causing Henry to hasten his steps. It must have been serious if such a stoic figure showed this much emotion; perhaps Frankenstein's condition was worsening, and that's why the Creature had been so insistent. The Dullahan reached the side of the bed across from the Creature, opening his mouth to ask, "So, Ms. Flowers says you—"

"NnnnnnNNNOOOOOO!!!"

Henry's red eyes went wide as the fist flew towards his face. He could see it now; his head would he knocked clean off, and then everyone would know he wasn't human, and then they'd discover he was made by Moreau, drag him down to the basement of the Society, strap him down, grab scalpels, and—

Henry stepped back, startled, as a massive green hand snapped out like a viper, grabbing Frankenstein's fist and preventing it from hitting him. Henry blinked, surprised by the genuine anger on the Creature's face as he stared down his creator.

"Creature, what the hell—!?"

"Strike him and I'll be adding another Frankenstein to the list."

The old woman paled, then her face darkened. Despite her seething glare, she dropped her hand, crossing her arms.

"He will treat you, and you will be kind to him," The Creature ordered. Henry felt highly uncomfortable watching this exchange, confused. His brain jumped about, trying to find a distraction, and when his eyes landed on the Creature's charred back, he focused in on it.

"Dear God," He breathed, walking around the bed (at a good arms length; he didn't trust the old woman not to try another shot at him) to reach the giant. He studied the damage up close, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. "This needs to be addressed. I have some salves in my office as well as some Flesh Weaver, but I'm not sure how well it will work on a burn this severe." Frankenstein eyed her creation with disgusted fascination as his green face darkened in an uncanny resemblance of a blush.

"I.. really don't think that's necessary," He rumbled as those lithe hands skittered over his back, trying to assess the damage. "My skin is quite hard to truly damage. This will slough off soon enough; it's more irritating than painful." Henry ignored him, muttering under his breath to himself. He stepped back, tilting his head and resting his chin against curled fingers, eyes considerate.

"Well, be that as it may, I still want to handle that soon," Sensing this was a losing battle, the Creature sighed, nodding with defeat. Frankenstein gaped in disbelief; the creature didn't take orders from anybody, let alone some gangly, nobody, fake scientist like Henry Jekyll. It was confusing. It was mind boggling.

It was seriously pissing her off.

"Now, what seems to be the problem—"

"LISTEN HERE, YOU PATHETIC INDUSTRIALIST SLUT—!!!"

"Alright, I'm back, what'd I miss- what the fuck, Frankenstein—?"

[beardofkamenev]

@nuingiliath​

Seriously?! Jesus Christ. At least if O’Brien had paired it with Catherine’s neglect-filled, trauma-filled childhood (which probably wasn’t that bad in reality), it would’ve made sense in a “well, they barely remembered to feed her, why would they educate her?” way. But nope, for some reason, they just didn’t care that Catherine de Valois, likely future queen of England, didn’t know how to read because she was a girl. LOLWUT. Eleanor Cobham very likely could read (possibly not in French or Latin, but still) and she was well below Catherine’s status.

Honestly, it’s all so stupid. Catherine gets told as a child that Englishmen have tails because they’re evil (by a nun in the convent she’s raised in, no less) and then she’s so stupidly innocent on her wedding night she just straight out asks Henry V if he has a tail. I’ll never know why he doesn’t immediately the marriage annulled because she’s clearly an idiot and not suited to be queen at all? Most Catherine novels seem to be leaning heavily towards the romance novel so I think that’s something to do with it too? They go hard on how tragic Catherine is - she’s got a tragic childhood, she’s got her evil mother pimping her out and then she marries Henry V (who may or may not be a decent husband), then he dies and Catherine is immediately forcibly separated from her son (I think she was with him until he was about 8? So normal medieval procedure, then) and no one lets her get involved in politics or shag Edmund Beaufort… so Owen turns up not so much to be a character but her reward for suffering so much. So he ends up being anything you’d want in a romantic hero except interesting.

Maybe Edward IV was the original Weird Pasty English Guy That Women Go Nuts Over? (Now it’s Richard III). I watched a clip they did of the history behind The King (I’m still yet to watch the movie itself) and they talked about the arrow-wound and it’s not even in the film? WHAT. Honestly, I’m forever disappointed that we never get any actual arrow-wound in any Shakespeare adaptations. And how the fuck can you do Agincourt without any arrows?! What is the fucking point.

I finally decided to transfer our convo to new post to avoid eye torture lol.

It’s only part of her “trauma-filled childhood” insofar as her mother neglects to educate her because she is neglectful in general. I actually scrolled through The Forbidden Queen ebook again to see if I remembered it correctly and while Catherine isn’t 100% illiterate, she “struggles” to read and write. Then there’s this passage:

“Does she read? Write?” “Not that I am aware.” “She must be taught.” “Is it necessary? Such skills are irrelevant for her future role, and I doubt she has the mental capacity to learn. Look at her.” The Queen was cruel in her contempt as I snivelled in terror, wiping my face on my sleeve. “She will be wed for her blood, not for her ability to wield a pen.”

BAHAHAHA. A lot of these novels go so overboard on the pathos too. I’ve lost track of how many novels have Catherine starving and wandering around in rags, being ignored by Henry V, having Henry VI ripped out of her arms by his evil guardians etc. Like, is it really so hard to feel sorry for someone who had an insane father, was widowed at 21 and legally prevented from remarrying? And Owen Tudor is literally just a plot device half the time and any semblance of personality he’s given is pretty repulsive (Jarman pls).

The King is alright as a movie but it is an absolute HISTORICAL CLUSTERFUCK. It might as well have been a straight-up fantasy movie about High King Frodo, Fifth of his Name because that’s how little it resembles history or Henry V or the Shakespeare plays, for that matter. I don’t know if I should recommend it to you because you might lose your shit (I know I did). SPOILERS obviously but don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.

Henry gets disinherited in favour of Tommen Thomas of Clarence, and only ends up succeeding because Thomas is later killed by “Welsh rebels” (barely anyone in England seems to care about this, btw). Far from being a warmonger, this Henry loves peace. He averts the bloodshed of the historical Battle of Shrewsbury by challenging Hotspur to an unintentionally-hilarious silent wrestling match, which also conveniently ends all rebellion in England. He somehow pacifies the Welsh rebels by paying Mortimer’s ransom because their historical war for independence was apparently just a glorified hostage situation. He is reluctant to go to war against France because it’s little more than his bad nasty father’s pet project (because it’s not like the English kings had claims to France dating back to Edward III or anything like that), and only ends up going because the evil Dauphin is evil. He mercifully allows the women and children of probably-Rouen to evacuate, unlike the real Henry V, who let them starve to death in ditches. But the real cherry on top is the film’s depiction of the Battle of Agincourt, which is little more than a giant mud wrestling match with the occasional arrow-confetti here and there (I counted TWO VOLLEYS the entire battle). Weapons are merely decorative; instead Henry decides that his bare fists are the most effective weapons against a fully-armoured enemy. AND THEN EVERYONE JUST STOPS FIGHTING because the evil Dauphin turns up to challenge Henry to single combat, but he doesn’t even get to fight because he keeps slipping in the mud before five random English archers descend upon him and wrestle him to death (none of the French care enough to retaliate, btw). This ends the battle and Henry becomes the undisputed master of France. The film ends with Henry stabbing a dude in the head (whose name I literally fucking forgot because I was so distracted by the flagrant and egregious historical inaccuracies) and asking Catherine to be truthful with him.

I should also mention that almost all these events take place in near total silence, including the battles/wrestling matches. The costuming and armour is just WHACK (here’s a video of someone ranting about it lol). Also, Humphrey of Gloucester and John of Bedford do not exist.

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 24

24. A rendezvous with a mad scientist

Jekyll could have danced all the way home.

Which was stupid, but he couldn't help himself.

After days of consideration, inner struggle and Hyde yelling at him to “JUST POP THE QUESTION ALREADY!!!”, he had finally worked up the courage to ask Utterson on a date. Just a trip to the theatre, nothing special, then dinner maybe.

And the lawyer had said yes!!! 

Oh, the Doctor felt like he was walking on air!

Of course dancing in the middle of the street in broad daylight was ungentlemanly and he had a reputation to uphold. But he was just way too happy to keep it all in.

A flower girl profited from his good mood, when he bought all of her flowers.

He laughed at the way she gaped at the ten Pounds in her hand, as if they were the most magnificent thing she had seen in her entire life. Although, they probably were.

“For yer wife, Sir?”, the girl asked curiously, after a few seconds.

Jekyll smiled and shook his head. “No, I'm not married. These are to beautify my home.”

The flower girl grinned toothily. Her teeth were quite yellow, but there was life in her grin. That was the grin of someone who lived in misery, but still had hopes and dreams.

“Oh, but yer in love, right? I can tell!”, she laughed.

He chuckled and gave in. “Well, women have an eye for these things, don't they?”

The doctor took the flowers he had just purchased and cradled them in his arms.

“But don't tell anyone, young lady”, he added good-humouredly, “It's unbecoming for a gentleman at my age to-”

“One is never too old for love!”, the flower girl laughed merrily, “God bless you, Sir! And lots of luck to you!”

“Good luck to you too”, Jekyll replied and continued his way home.

“I can't believe you spent ten Pounds on an armful of roses!”, Hyde complained as soon as Jekyll was in his private rooms. “Ten Pounds! And look at these things! They're all together worth a few Shillings at best!”

Jekyll's mouth twitched upward. “My dear Edward, if I remember correctly, a certain mishap on your part cost me a hundred Pounds. So don't complain, if I use my money for something good. Besides, my home could use some decoration, don't you agree?”

Hyde groaned: “Are you rubbing this in my face again? I thought we agreed to never speak of this again!”

“And I thought we agreed to never speak of my personal spendings, Edward Hyde. You're in no position to complain to me about it, young man, you live on my wealth”, Jekyll retorted and sat behind his desk. There was work to do.

Hyde grumbled something under his breath.

Jekyll looked up to the mirror next to him. “Now, there is no need for that kind of language.”

“Yes, there is”, the brunette in the mirror grumbled, “It makes me feel better.”

“What's agitating you anyways? And don't tell me it's the flowers and the money I spent on them, you've been like this all week.”

“Well, if you have to know!”, Hyde cried in frustration and exited the mirror to sit on his creator's desk. “First I was frustrated at how fucking long it took you to ask him out! Secondly, I really hate your lovey-dovey behaviour! I mean look at you! Swooning over your lawyer like a fifteen-year-old girl! If you have to be in love, can't you be a little less corny?!”

The blond put his pen down and frowned at the younger man. “As a matter of fact, no. Hyde, what is your real problem? My love for Gabriel never bothered you before.”

Hyde just huffed and looked away.

But it wasn't quick enough for Jekyll not to notice the look in his eyes.

The blond knew his alter ego – just like Hyde knew him – and he would have recognised that expression anywhere.

“What's so funny?”, Hyde snapped, when Jekyll chuckled quietly.

The doctor smiled at him. “I just find it amusing how you pretend not to give a damn, despite how obvious your jealousy is. You're such a brat.”

He put as much fondness in his words as possible, to get his point across.

When Hyde turned back to him, his bilious green eyes full of mirth, it was clear that he had.

“And you're a hypocritical, sentimental, old fool”, the young man retorted.

Jekyll laughed merrily: “Yes, I can't deny that I am.”

Utterson was nervous.

He had arrived at their meeting point early and the longer he was waiting, the more antsy he became. It was still another two minutes and the lawyer prayed desperately, that Jekyll wouldn't be late. The blond wasn't the type of man to be late, but Lanyon had told him about all the times Jekyll had been late to their dates or forgot them entirely. Mostly because he had been experimenting.

Oh my god, what if Henry forgot that we were supposed to-?

Before he could end that thought, the subject of his concerns came around the corner.

Oh thank God!

Jekyll looked around, saw him and approached him with hurried steps.

“Hello, Utterson”, he greeted him breathlessly, “I'm sorry for being late, I-”

“You're not late”, Utterson informed him, “You're on time. And hello to you too, Jekyll. Looking dashing, old chap.”

How he hated saying 'old chap', but they were in public and had to keep up appearances.

The Doctor was wearing a black tailor-fit fur coat with a blueish hue, a purple silk scarf, black leather gloves, his best top hat and winter boots.

Jekyll blushed lightly. “You think so? I didn't even know I still had that coat and scarf. But I found them again and since this is a special occasion I thought I might as well try them on again. You're looking quite dashing yourself, if I may say so.”

The lawyer laughed. “You're jesting!”

“No, I'm serious!”

The black-haired man was wearing a black wool coat and top hat. To that a lavender scarf and white velvet gloves.

“You look handsome”, Jekyll whispered, before saying more loudly: “Let's go. They're performing Shakespeare's 'The Tempest' tonight and I remember that this is one of your favourites! I reserved us one of the boxes, so we will have a bit of privacy, while having a good view at the same time.”

Utterson beamed at the other.

The performance was perfect.

The actors did an amazing job, the atmosphere was splendid and the effects were stunning.

And of course it helped that they had an entire box for themselves.

Jekyll couldn't help but tear his attention away from the play from time to time. Watching Utterson watch the play was almost equally interesting.

The usually aloof lawyer got completely caught up in the atmosphere. He laughed during the funny scenes, discreetly expressed his antipathy towards the villainous characters and on occasion told Jekyll what would happen next.

Which wasn't necessary.

But the Doctor suspected, that this was just how it was, when someone liked a story very much. He took it with a fond smile and pretended that he didn't already know the play as well as his love did.

Utterson was so enraptured by the performance, that Jekyll didn't bother to try to begin a conversation (which was why he had reserved a box for them in the first place).

But it was okay. At least he could look (stare) at the black-haired man without anyone noticing.

He's too handsome for his own good …

“Seriously?”, Hyde's voice piped up, “There is nothing physically remarkable about him! Well, except for his eyes, when he smiles – maybe.”

Oh shut up, Jekyll scoffed mentally, I distinctly remember, that his eyes captivated you enough that you decided, that their colour is your favourite one.

“Just do me a favour and watch the play!”, Hyde grumbled, “I can't assume my shadowy form here, so I need to see through your eyes! And because you're staring at him all the time, I'm currently bored as hell!”

Jekyll grinned, but complied. After all, Hyde had never been to the theatre in his existence and he had behaved nicely as of late. Well, nicely by Hyde's standards.

In the darkness of the theatre, Utterson hadn't been able to make out, what Jekyll was wearing under his coat. But here in the restaurant, it was light enough for him to see that he was wearing an adorned, indigo waistcoat over a white shirt and-

“Don't. Say. A word”, Jekyll warned, when he noticed the lawyer smirking at his bow tie. It was the purple one Lanyon had given him for Christmas.

But Utterson couldn't help but remark: “Lanyon will be so delighted.”

“Not if he doesn't find out”, the blond grumbled, making the black-haired man laugh.

Oh, I will definitely tell him!, he thought gleefully.

He himself was wearing a lavender waistcoat and tie to a white shirt and blushed, when the blond complimented his attire again.

The restaurant was fancy, but not too much, which Utterson was grateful for. Jekyll had chosen well, here he didn't feel as underdressed as in the clubs where Jekyll liked to dine.

The Doctor was much richer than he himself was, as was Lanyon. Not to mention how insanely wealthy Lady Summers was. Sometimes the lawyer couldn't help but feel like he was the odd one out. Like a lowly commoner among bourgeoisie and aristocracy. It was a good thing that the three weren't as arrogant as most people of their class.

“Gabriel.”

Utterson blinked. “Yes?”

Jekyll was frowning at him. “You're moping again. Thinking about how you're so inferior to me, Lanyon and Lady Summers, because we're much richer, aren't you?”

The lawyer blushed awkwardly.

“I take that as a yes. Well, stop it. It's not true and you know it. I resent that classist thinking and I wish you wouldn't feel that way. You have no idea just how much of a gift you are.”

He blushed harder. “Oh hush, Henry.”

“Nay.”

Jekyll looked around to see if anyone could hear them.

Then he continued, more quietly: “Do you think I would love you, if I looked down on you? I'm pretty certain I wouldn't. Because in that case I would be blind to what a wonderful person you really are.”

“Sh-shut up!”, Utterson begged. If the other went on, he would die from embarrassment!

The Doctor chuckled. “Don't worry, I've said my say now. I won't embarrass you any further. I just meant to make a point.”

Utterson smiled weakly.

Now that they knew each other's secrets and feelings, Jekyll was smothering him with affection. It was almost too much to handle for the reserved lawyer. And it made him concerned. The Doctor was intensive and careless in the way he loved.

So how would Hyde – Jekyll's flaws and desires incarnate – act, if he grew attracted to him? His backhanded compliments and underhand remarks were creepy enough already. Utterson really didn't want to imagine, what that madman's definition of courting would be.

Enough, the lawyer admonished himself. Today is for Jekyll. I can continue to worry about Hyde tomorrow.

They finished their dinner, paid and left the restaurant.

Utterson accompanied Jekyll back home, much to the latter's delight.

Jekyll chose to enter his house from the backyard, where Hyde usually came and went. He was hoping that Utterson would come inside with him. But he was disappointed quickly, when the lawyer refused.

“It was a wonderful day and the offer is tempting. But I'm tired, Harry”, the black-haired man told him quietly. And he did look exhausted.

For a second, Jekyll considered offering him to stay the night.

But then he remembered, what Lady Summers had said about pushing things to the next level already. He needed to give the lawyer more time.

And so he just smiled and relented. “Of course. Good night, my dear fellow. I hope you will sleep well.”

“Likewise”, Utterson replied.

The clouds drifted away and the moonlight fell into the backyard. It illuminated Utterson's face, making it look like snow in contrast to his black hair.

He looked so gorgeous.

Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss him!

“Then do it!”, Hyde piped up, “Stop with that disgusting pining and just kiss him already, you old fool! You've wanted it for decades, so why don't you?! What holds you back? It's late and dark in here, no one will see it!”

Maybe, but has it ever occurred to you, that perhaps I have a modicum of respect for him?, Jekyll thought sarcastically.

“Sure!”, Hyde snorted, “That's why I'm such a respectful person! Because you have so much of it!”

Edward Hyde, I warn you-

“Arguing with yourself again?”, Utterson spoke up.

Jekyll blushed, caught red-handed.

“I can tell by now”, the lawyer explained, “For someone who always keeps his face in public, you have the worst poker-face. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No, but I'm definitely going to work on it”, Jekyll muttered.

Utterson frowned. “Fine, if you insist. But not to me, Henry.”

He took his hand, making his face flush deeper. “I want you to be honest and open to me. No more secrets. Promise?”

Jekyll smiled and kissed the other's hand.

“I promise”, he said sweetly and added: “I love you. So much.”

Utterson's face flushed just as hard as his own (much to his satisfaction).

“I-I know”, he stuttered. “A-and thank you. F-for the day, I mean. It was wonderful.”

Then he squeezed the blond's hand once more, whispered good night and ran off.

Jekyll looked after him, before breaking into a huge grin and went inside.

This had been the most wonderful day and not even Hyde's frustrated nagging could ruin it now.

Utterson practically flew all the way back home, still flushed with embarrassment.

As soon as he was there, he threw himself onto his bed, grinned and sighed blessedly.

For a brief moment he wondered, if that was how youngsters felt, if the object of their affection requited their love.

Either way, the black-haired man couldn't recall, if he had ever been happier than he was now. Happiness wasn't even the word. Bliss was closer to it.

Whether his feelings were a sin or not, he thanked the Lord anyway.

What a magical day …

[maximumphilosopheranchor]

Do you think Elizabeth might have ever married Philip, and if so what kind of marital relationship do you think they might have had? Their relationship was much more complex than people believe it to be.

Hello!

Maybe she might have if something huge had happened altering the course of events and/or making her situation absolutely dire, like French invasion on the eve of her coronation. Or possibly if Philip were present in England on Mary’s death and following months, and had made his suit himself, Elizabeth would have had a hard time to reject him, his presence alone in her country being a pressure on her. Other than that, I’m afraid, no, I don’t see her doing so.

It’s important to remember that Elizabeth could marry Philip only on his conditions, the main of which were:

Elizabeth must convert to Catholicism ( you should satisfy yourself that the Queen will profess the same religion as I do, which is the same that I shall ever hold; She will have to obtain secret absolution from the Pope and the necessary dispensation so that when I marry her she will be a Catholic, which she has not hitherto been)

no changes in religion are made and England remains Catholic (she will persevere in the same and maintain and uphold it in the country, and with this end will do all that may appear necessary to me; if this change is made all idea of my marriage with her must be broken off, and if she has any thoughts of the marriage this may be efficacious).

Honestly, I can’t imagine Elizabeth consenting to this but without it there would be no marriage (Philip had made that plain) and I don’t believe she ever seriously considered it. She was raised as a protestant, in her eyes her religion wasn’t any inferior to that of Philip, and pope was no authority to her to grant absolutions and dispensations, to decide whether she has rights to rule or not. Her supporters were protestants (moreover, nearly all of her confidants were protestants as Feria noticed “I see her inclined to govern through the men who are believed to be heretics and I am told that all the women around her definitely are”), connections with whom she had cultivated through the years and who had put their hopes on her. To marry Philip would mean, well, to betray and alienate them, not at all a wise thing to do, even if you refuse her religious sentiments. Besides, if pope was the one to enable her to rule (the awkward moment when papacy is sacrificing the validity of marriage of Catherine of Aragon upon which it had insisted for decades in the name of future of Catholic Europe, hehe) he also could deny her that in case if something went astray and she “misbehaved”. Or what one pope decides, other can cancel. Of course, Philip could provide powerful back for her but … Such a conversion would have made Elizabeth more dependent on papacy’s verdict and Philip than Mary ever was.

Another complication is that there is a small chance that such a match would have pleased the English. Most certainly it would have caused major problems in Elizabeth’s relationships with protestants, but I don’t think Catholics would have been much happier either. Philip was not exactly a popular figure in England at the time, many accused him of abandoning Mary and involving England in his wars with France which resulted in loss of Calais. Besides, I don’t think they, as well as protestants, would gladly approve Elizabeth marrying her deceased sister’s widower, dispensation or not. Sure, Feria and subsequent Spanish ambassadors would say that the English Catholics looked at Philip as a saviour, but, firstly, they hardly inquired into opinions of all of them, and secondly, and most importantly, when Feria was trying to push forward the idea of marriage during the winter of 1558/1559, the lack of enthusiasm on English side, protestant or catholic, was apparent.

And then there were Elizabeth’s own misgivings about marriage in general. Her anti-marriage statements throughout her life are too intense to ignore them.

Having said that, my AU musings and a ton of speculations under the cut

Now, let’s imagine, as I mentioned at the beginning, that sometime around January or February of 1559 Henry II of France attacks England on behalf of his daughter-in-law Mary Stuart and Philip with his forces in the Netherlands defeats the French, thus saving Elizabeth (again) and her country. Philip’s standing among the English grows, and Elizabeth, seeing immediate danger from the French, changes her mind and accepts his proposal. Or Philip returns to England in March of 1558 (as he planned to do, btw), stays there, personally ensuring that Mary names Elizabeth as her successor, and after Mary’s death still present in England makes proposal to Elizabeth personally, somehow winning the English to his cause. And notwithstanding with all previously described difficulties, Elizabeth is so cornered by Philip that she agrees to marry him. What then? It’s really hard to tell but I don’t think such a marriage would bring great personal happiness to either of them. Adult Elizabeth had trust issues, developed, more than anything, I believe, due to her experiences under Edward and Mary. Moreover, one of the reasons for her falling in love with Robert Dudley could have been the fact that they already had pre-history together, they knew each other from childhood. True, Philip wasn’t a complete stranger either, they had met and Elizabeth had a chance to observe him (what is more than can be said about her other foreign suitors, except Alençon ), but, in my opinion, Philip was too powerful figure for Elizabeth to trust him. That could be remedied if they had actually settled to live together permanently and get to know each other better, but that was not the thing Philip was prepared to do. After the wedding he intended to return to Spain where his presence was required, staying in England only as long as to bequeath an heir, or not staying if it took too long, as he revealed to Feria:

“because of the great and extreme necessity that exists for me to return to Spain I have resolved that, even if the marriage takes place and I go to England to take care of necessary business… I will not stay there, even if the queen should not be pregnant, because she is young enough to wait for my return to that kingdom to conceive others”

(It’s possible that baby making with Elizabeth could alter his plans though, but, even in that case, he would travel to Spain and back all the same, and only periodically be with Elizabeth.) On the other hand, of course, his absence could fit to Elizabeth quite well, at least she shouldn’t be worried that he would usurp her power in England. Also, much would have depended on having children which would have bonded them further together and Elizabeth not dying from childbirth. Historically they both demonstrated an ability to persevere in the face of enormous difficulties, and maybe once married and accepting that they needed each other, they might have clung to each other till the end, whatever it might have been. And a part of me would like to see how Philip would prove “I love so much”, hehe. But for England this scenario almost certainly would mean its inclusion in Habsburg empire and the victory of Catholicism. 

HOWEVER. I think Elizabeth and Philip actually had a chance to build a happy marriage if it had occurred under the right circumstances. Imo, the best time for the marriage between them was in 1545, after the death of Philip’s first wife Maria Manuela, when Henry proposed Elizabeth to Charles V as a bride for Philip. Yes, Elizabeth was only 12 at the time (Philip was 18), and it would have taken several years before they could have started to live as a husband and a wife, but I prefer to see Elizabeth in Spain after Henry’s death, rather than in one household with Thomas Seymour. Besides, Elizabeth was a bright child, a quick learner without formed religious views which would please the Spanish. Honestly, teenage Elizabeth becoming a wife of Philip and going to live to Spain, is one of my favourites AUs, and I would love to read a fanfic about it. Although, the problem in this scenario is that I can’t imagine why Charles V should decide that it’s a good idea to wed his son and heir to the person whom his church had labeled as a bastard. :)

In case you are interested in fics about Elizabeth/Philip, there’s this long, unfinished AU with OOC moments (particularly one) and possibly over romantic in places which nevertheless is dear to me. 

And you are right - their relationship was more complex than people believe. I am fascinated by their ally-enemy dynamics (which dominated the second half of 16th century Western Europe), and the irony in their story, and I love to research them.

Thank you for asking! 

[hopeatermain]

Assassin’s creed modern au headcanons part 2

PART 2 OF THIS. I still have no idea of when part 2 of tCoI (the Child of Izanami) is coming, but the Unity one-shot will soon be published. So yeah, part 2 of the headcanons. The list is game IV to Syndicate, with Desmond has a bonus.

Edward

Formerly the proof that pirates still existed, now a grandfather that lives with his overworked son, angry grandson and probable future son-in-law.

He doesn’t care that he’s 81 and that we’re in the middle of the winter, he’s going out in short, sandals and t-shirt with shark prints on them. He’s still ripped, so it’s not that horrifying of an image, even if it makes Haytham go mad with worry.

He used to do parkour when he was young. He’s now too old to do that, but his legacy lives on with Connor, to who he gave his blue jacket.

He was formerly a sailor/smuggler/crook/pirate with a heart of gold (once took down a human selling ring because he has limits and this crossed every single one of them), but he was forced to retire after a career ending injury.

He had a lot of women in his life, but Haytham’s mother was the one he loved the most.

Haytham and his best friend Adewalé are literally the only ones to see just how Edward is actually a gigantic loser. The rest of their town thinks he’s either entertaining or awesome, most of the time somewhere between the two.

Shay

The weird friendly Irish psychologist/life coach that lives with Haytham because the whole Kenway family needs help. He also has a Tragic Past™.

HIS. FUCKING. TRENCHCOAT. He never takes the damn thing off unless he’s sleeping, in his apartment (since he practically lives in the Kenway house now, he doesn’t go to his apartment that much anymore) or a good 113 degrees outside (I’m talking in Fahrenheit; it’s the equivalent of 45 Celsius). He wears light colored clothes under the thing.

No seriously, he doesn’t even take it off when doing parkour.

A psychologist who has no idea of why he is basically doing the job of a life coach for Haytham. He doesn’t even really coach him, just remind him to eat, sleep, helps him with his son’s education and let him cry on his shoulder when he’s having too much. He also gives free tips for the people who ask him nicely.

Had a girlfriend back in university, before an ugly break up between him and his former group of friends, from which she was part off, happened. Now, everyone is sure he and Haytham are a thing. He wouldn’t blame them.

Had an ugly depression that almost finished in a suicide attempt. He’s now a successful psychologist living in an eccentric but friendly community. He’s the physical embodiment of things being able to get better. When people remarks how lucky he was, he answers ‘‘I make my own luck.’’

Arno

The French-Austrian adopted son of the rich De La Serre family following the tragic, early demise of his father, and inherited the Dorian fortune. He refuses to use the fortune of his family for personal reasons.

His style could be best described as swinging between ‘‘relaxed fanciness’’ to ‘‘complete and utter dishevelment’’. Depends on how depressed he feels in the morning.

The only constant is his parkour attire: blue raincoat with hood on and red scarf.

He’s a local journalist trying to write a book and works in a little cozy café mid-time to make ends meet. Why someone having every diplomas and qualities necessary to become a detective became a journalist is anyone guess.

He’s in a relationship with his step-sister Élise. They’re not technically siblings, but it’s still somewhat weird. Right now, they’re having a break in their relationship, and he doesn’t take it well, but respect her boundaries.

He has a severe case depression due to a lot of things going on in his life. The result is nights after nights of getting drunk, numbness to everything and sudden burst of crying. Everyone worries about him and bring him baguettes when he feels unwell because he loves baguettes so fucking much.

Jacob

One of the Frye Twins and the most excited, eccentric and friendly of the two.

He has a punk rock clothing style with an heavy dose of steampunk, and god forbid if you make comment about his collection of hats.

He still has the same style when doing parkour, but he takes the hat off and put on a leather jacket with a hood.

He’s the leader of a street gang called the Rooks, which is mainly composed of delinquents and former crooks. Most of the time, they just help around their community and get into street fights because why not? They also are the local weapon and weed providers.

He’s in a relationship with no one right now, but he still flirts with everyone he thinks is pretty. Bisexual. He also has two person pinning after him. He flirts with both of them, so it’s a start.

His reason for wanting to form a gang his both to provide a friendly neighborhood gang if you need someone beaten up, because, say what you want, but crime pay off, and because why not? He also has a soft spot for kids and will do anything to protect them.

Evie

One of the Frye Twins and the most levelheaded, serious and wise of the two.

She has a hipster style with a slight Victorian influence and some leather trinket here and there. She can basically make some flannel look classy.

Like her brother, she just puts on a leather jacket with a hood when doing parkour.

She’s working as a secretary mid-time while in marketing school. She’s also a member of her brother’s gang, but shhh, don’t tell anyone. She just gets in street fights and help with the damage he causes, anyway.

She’s in a loving relationship with one of her classmate that Jacob likes to poke at (the relationship, not the classmate), Henry Green.

She’s utterly exasperated with her brother and the rest of the town antics, but it doesn’t exactly stop her from taking part of them...

Desmond

Poor, poor Desmond... he just wanted a quiet life...

He dresses like in the games: simple white hoodie.

He never takes the hoodie off. Not even to parkour.

He’s a bartender in a nightclub of their district, Bad Weather.

Is in a quiet but romantic relationship with Lucy. His cousin and great uncle don’t approve.

He ran away from his home because his father was an asshole when he was sixteen. He remembered his reasonable great uncle Rashid and his quiet identical-to-him-but-blonde cousin Altair that were from Syria and who apparently lived in a town a few miles away from New York that he met last Christmas, and after packing what he owned, took a bus there. He then questioned everyone on where these two lived until he found their house. Nine years passed, a custody battle happened between William and Rashid, Rashid won, and Desmond is now used to the insanity of the little town, even if he still sometime screams when someone suddenly jumps from a high building just to land in a haystack. Why there is so much haystack in a town of the 21 century, he’ll never know. Maybe because of the horses...