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fumblingmusings · 1 year

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Overly long musings about a potential characterisation of Fem!England that doesn't match what would be canon nor should it necessarily be canon but I think would be neat here we go...

Don't get me wrong I do enjoy Fem!England's design - particularly as she's just as scrawny and thin as Arthur but I kind of want an aesthetic that's less skinny child and more emaciated and hollowed out adult.

The kind of woman who smoked excessively and had an opioid addiction throughout the 19th century not entirely of her own making (laudanum and how it could just keep spiralling from there) that she still struggles to shake through to the 21st.

The kind of woman whose hair is a dark wild curly crows nest which never reached Gibson Girl level of dishevelled glam no no it's just a pre-raphaelite mess. That's what I view her as - if Arthur's a punk delinquent then she's that tragic Victorian waif seen in so many operas and plays.

She is certainly someone who would fit right in with 80s punk or 90s grunge no problem (she certainly buys into the lifestyle), but she's someone who used to stand at the end of the hallway in a white gown holding one candle and make Alfred squeak as he snuck upstairs after drinking a midnight milk snack because she truly is as ephemeral and as solid as a ghost (he didn't mean to have her thrown in the river in the 1690s - honest - he knows she's not a witch but when she looms like that...)

And even when she 'cleans up' she's just swallowed up by the sashes and dresses and jewellery. She doesn't hate wearing them but they sure do not enjoy being worn by her.

She stops wearing red after 1918. Green is safe and alive. White are her cliffs that protect her and the pearls that Caesar invaded her for. Red is... everything that is wrong with the world. Everything that she did wrong.

She's still got a stick up her arse, just like Arthur, she's still a menace for the rules until it serves her to break them, just like Arthur. That feeling of helplessness, passivity and apathy that churns and gives way to smug superiority as a front to hold herself together, just like Arthur, is forever present.

Unlike Arthur her anger is more internally directed and set to a permanent broil rather than lashing out at the smallest infraction at the closest recipient. It's a system which rots her from the inside out, but she's nothing but a martyr (still so much like Arthur) and thus she will endure.

Her disappointment and melancholia is more feared than her anger by her kids. She doesn't get angry at them. No no. That's not what mother's do. The kids - only in glimpses - catch their mother's erratic mood swings, unable to predict the pattern of when she'll take them strawberry picking and make jam for them or leave with them with a nanny and lock herself in the attic nursery for five weeks and spend it peeling off the yellow wallpaper - It's not that they doubt she cares for them, loves them even, it's just the fact that their mere presence sometimes makes her question things that it would be much easier to ignore.

So like. Her relationship with the colonies are arguably more fucked up than Arthur's ever could be. A genuine desire for motherhood that got conflated and wrecked by Empire so every moment like these:

Feels like propaganda to her (because isn't it???) and it's to the point where she can't tell what's genuine anymore. In reality she would want nothing more than be that sort of soft mum but she's not. She can't be. Because it's selective on who she can show it too. Because it's encouraged by the wrong people. So she thinks, and broods, and the anger continues to bubble.

Sometimes she can live in the construct, tell herself she's playing pretend, only for it then to feel very real, too real, and she panics and refuses to play house and lie.

Except she's not sure if she was lying. Like was she just feeding into this motherland mother country white woman's burden bullshit or should she admit the equally scary option that what she feels for the kids is genuine? Only she can't express it without buying into said oppressive system and...

She's conflicted for about three hundred years.

...Hmm. I just think a female England would be quite an interesting vehicle to explore that intersectionality of gender and empire - making it worse in that it is a role she genuinely wants - being a mother - and even so she cannot express it in her own way because it seems to only be used by those who make it harmful. So it eats her from the inside out until you reach... idk. Say 1945? 1956? When her government admits the idea that she's the world's caretaker is a lie. When her eldest best beloved boy has come of age and her regency has ended.

She was shit at it anyway. So she tells herself. And now she'll never be a mother again; she'll never be given the chance or the right as she does not deserve it. The older children don't need or want her anymore (if they ever did to begin with and they did, when those times did feel real and her songs and embraces were sweet memories). But the desire still leaks out. Moments still occur. And despite everything she is still lady mother to a few, even if it's not a term spoken out loud. Sentimentality remains, and she can be incredibly sentimental when in one of her moods.

She's better now, essentially. Still half rotted. Still hollow. Still unsure of what her genuine self is and where that belongs. But at least she's not frightened of that love for her kids. At least her impulsively kissing Mattie on the temple doesn't send her into fits of madness anymore.

Small victories.

#hetalia #hws england #fem!england #headcanon #arthur's parenting #this appeals to... checks notes... ah. me.#hyup!#op #historical hetalia

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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

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ellamorgan333 · 20 days

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this is how hosea and dutch felt when they got arthur

#rdr2 #dutch and hosea parenting #hosea and dutch’s sweet boy :3 #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde

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elesketchii · 5 months

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buurp self indulgent art time! shoving the big tough man adopts reckless teenage girl trope in your face rn

#🦉 🦌 <- them #reached the stage of the hyperfix where i’m projecting my parental issues onto my fanon oc #WAAAATEVERR this is so healing 4 me. heart emoji #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 oc #rdo #rdo oc #arthur morgan #elesketchii ocs #my ocs #oc art #my art

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godwaltz · 2 months

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"Dancing? I can't imagine you dancing."

i hate them so much. tumblr I am diseased.

#art #fanart #malevolent #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #john doe malevolent #john doe #human john doe #this is a post-plot scenario where they're roommates and co-parent faroe (who gave john the braid) hi #john has vitiligo because I do too #my art

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 24 days

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Arthur: *tapping on the table during a council meeting*

Merlin: *tapping back while rolling his eyes*

Councillor: What are they doing?

Leon: Morse code. We needed some way to get through these meetings without one of them getting mad and yelling at the other.

Councillor: Isn’t that one just a servant?

Leon: *about to put his head through a table*

Arthur: *stops mid tap and glares* You take that back you fossilised fuck! Actually, stand up, you’re off the council. Merlin, sit down. Even your idiocy doesn’t come close to his.

Leon: You and Merlin still need to argue in morse code, even if he’s got a seat.

Merlin: Yes, Leon.

Arthur: Yes, Leon.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #sir leon #leon the long suffering #leon being a parent for the knights #camelot #merlin bbc #merthur #merlin and arthur #the knights of the round table #knights of the dumbass table #incorrect merlin quotes #merlin x arthur

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godmerlin · 2 months

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Merlin 4x03 The Wicked Day

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlinedit #merlingifs #my gifs #colin morgan #bradley james #this scene had my dad rolling with laughter last night #it always gets me that this is the episode arthur becomes king and they're talking about “peeing” iconic show #arthur in 3rd gif is a parent who is sick of their children's shit #merthur

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ink-through-her-veins · 1 year

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Merlin hates Uther for many reasons. He’s hateful, vengeful, short sighted and hypocritical about magic. He solves most of his problems with violence. He never truly trusts anyone and is loyal to no one.

But what Merlin hates the most is that he never tells Arthur that he’s proud of him or hugs him or comforts him when everything is going wrong. He just dumps the weight of a Kingdom and his own failings on the shoulders of his barely adult son.

Now, Merlin has to go from ‘fuck this spoiled prat’ to ‘I am this clotpole’s only source of emotional validation and comfort’ to ‘the King ruined a perfectly decent cabbagehead and I will kill him myself if he ruins all the work I’ve done to get Arthur to a place where he can even admit we’re friends.’

#merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin bbc #headcannons #merlin emrys #uther pendragon’s a+ parenting #uther pendragon

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weaponizedducks · 3 months

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how did we as a society move on from 'you're the only friend i have and i couldn't bear to lose you'. like??? why does no one talk about this. i personally never recovered

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chronicowboy · 4 months

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devastated myself with thoughts of arthur, gwen and merlin raising a little girl as heir to the throne. you know gwen would be so excited when she met her, and she'd be such a good mother i literally can't think about it too much or i'll die but she'd teach her how to be kind and compassionate but never ever take anyone's shit. and arthur. well arthur's scared at first because he doesn't really get girls (or that's what he hides behind when actually he's just terrified he doesn't know how to be a father) like morgana could swordfight but she was still what he considered "girly", so what does that mean? but he loves her desperately, she's his pride and joy, so of course he gets the blacksmith to make her a little sword for her tiny hands and starts teaching her how to fight. maybe it ends in silly games half the time because she's just a kid and arthur never really got to be one but it's fun and it's perfect and it's happy. merlin watches from the sidelines fond and proud and so full of love he can barely breathe with it. when she gets a little older arthur starts letting her train with the knights so she can learn different fighting styles and they all let her win when she starts looking tired and they die very dramatic deaths just to make her giggle. and merlin. merlin would quite literally make mountains fall to make that little girl happy. he performs every trick she asks and takes her to meet aithusa at least once a week and maybe even teaches her a spell or two. and arthur watches this from the sidelines so fond and proud and full of love that he aches and he wonders how he ever thought this was evil - how he ever thought merlin wasn't this man who would conjure butterflies with the snap of his fingers just to see a little girl smile. and do you see it? how the power throuple of camelot becomes The parenting unit of all time?

#sami rambles #she's called morgan...#also bonus points if she actually is magic and merlin teaches her and arthur freaks out about it so much bc like. ingrained biases.#but two of the people he loves most have this special gift so really how could it ever be evil #ANYWAY #i just think gwen and arthur and merlin would make a fantastic parental unit and i want to cry #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #guinevere #merthur #gwenthur #merlin x arthur #merlin x arthur x gwen #gwen x arthur #mergwenthur

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fumblingmusings · 1 year

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francis and matthews relationship is so interesting cause in the show at least francis is more supportive than arthur for the most part but he still frames himself as the cool older brother you can get advice from and absolutely NOT a father.

It's really hard to say because we have so little 1 on 1 panel time of Francis and Matthew versus him and Arthur.

I tried to find the original strips but I think most of the Birz ones have been wiped from online so orz if I have missed any important Arthur/Matthew/Francis ones apologies...

But I remember that the earlier strips which was all mini Canada tales were so hilariously mean spirited - everyone forgets him, people sit on him, Alfred is just glib and pushy and awful, and Kuma is also just like... ragging on the poor guy. But at least Arthur apologises to him (rare show of an Englishman admitting he was wrong) whilst Francis implies that everything that sucks about Matthew is the bits that ties him to Arthur. And also in another strip Arthur is the only one who notices he's not there????

Like okay fine in the early ones he can't remember who's missing but at least he feels Mattie's not there. However, yeah, Francis another time does remember him and quite sharply chides Arthur for it, even though in the G8 one Francis didn't have a clue.

I do love the arguments between the brother's though, fucking brutal.

The modern strips are a bit different, with Francis paying lip service to being Canada’s protector only to give up after 15 minutes. Compared to Arthur who immediately proclaims himself to he Matthew's family, gets in a right messy state fighting for him, asks after his emotional welfare during the War of 1812, makes Matthew homemade marmalade, and is apparently very content to have the baby sleep on his lap to pass the afternoon. And its sort of like, no wonder Matthew stays with Arthur. The guy who is the first person to see him as a baby and not a set of resources. Not historically accurate perhaps but the nations aren't mean to represent their governments or politics really. The way Arthur treats Alfred and Matthew does not match up with English Imperial Policy in the slightest.

Babies...

This is versus Francis, who says, if I win, I will let you be my little brother. I don't know. I think there's a distinction there. Arthur goes from now on you're mine. Francis is just a smidge more conditional. Though to be fair to Francis, Arthur had won when he made that pronouncement half dead on the floor so... pedantry.

I like the comparison between Arthur proclaiming to be Alfred's family - which he almost immediately rejects even as a baby and then again upon independence and again in WWII - versus Matthew where Matthew is like yep. I'm your family. Ride or die. Becoming the man who looms over Arthur's back like a spectre. And he sticks with Arthur enough where Arthur thinks of him as his only comfort following Alfred leaving (wooft more apologies from the Englishman... when it rains it pours, eh), and enough to try and bring Alfred home for Arthur's sake (I cannot find this one... but it's the box of food he sends to tempt Alfred... it must have been in the published volumes) and enough to kick Alfred out again for Arthur's sake.

He's not like Oz and NZ who still refers to Arthur as a big brother, but he's always been more formal. But it's pretty much confirmed that Arthur loves Matthew just as (almost?) as much as Alfred, it's just Alfred will not be ignored so it comes across as if Arthur doesn't.

This may just be a bias - Arthur and Matthew have more strips together by a country mile so you know what his relationship is like with Arthur, and... it's pretty good. And with things like in modern day NZ still calling Canada big brother even though that imperial connection isn't really there anymore... I think he got a lot more validation and a social net with Arthur then he did with Francis.

But I suppose it's like... how much do you say the old strips are still in play, since no-one has forgotten about Matthew in like... ten years at this point. Also, to be fair to Francis, Arthur also is explicitly not a father in canon either. It's just fun to drag out these threads right?

I need more Francis and Matthew interactions, is what I'm saying.

#hetalia #hws england #hws america #hws canada #hws france #arthur's parenting #francis' parenting #canon #op #q&a #headcanon #this is all over the place apologies

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nothankyoudear · 1 year

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Ever since Merlin was a small child, Hunith had always bombarded him with loving touches. She carried him whenever she could, and when he grew too big to be carried, she left him with warm hugs and soft touches on his cheeks. She wiped his tears when he cried, and intertwined their fingers on cold nights as they slept.

Arthur, on the other hand, could not remember the last time he was touched by his father in any way other than a firm clasp on the shoulder. All his life, he's known nothing but side glances and firm remarks. No one was there to wipe his tears away when he cried, and certainly no one was there to hold him on cold nights as he slept.

He was the prince of Camelot, after all, and everyone knew that princes cannot be soft.

Which was why, the first time that Merlin went in for a hug, Arthur immediately flinched back.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Arthur left, unable to stand the tension in the air. Not thinking much about it, he had rendered it just another one of those awkward little moments with Merlin that would soon dissipate from his memory.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Arthur found himself unable to move on from it. He spent that night turning in his bed, wondering what it would've been like if he accepted Merlin's hug - The warmth and comfort that he had only ever seen given to others. He fell asleep wondering what it would feel like to be embraced by another.

Merlin doesn't do it again, at least not for a while. It was understandable, especially after Arthur reacted so drastically at his first attempt at closeness, but Arthur still couldn't help but spend another few sleepless nights regretting his reaction.

Because he was the prince of Camelot, and if Merlin - irresponsible, reckless, sarcastic Merlin - wasn't willing to touch him, then no one was.

So when the second time came - when Merlin, most likely without thinking ("when does he ever think?"), went in for a hug, Arthur hugged back.

He wrapped Merlin in his arms, and oh, it was bliss. The warmth and the comfort and the closeness that he had heard so much about were all real. He couldn't help but tighten his arms around the other boy's thin body and lean in, rendered helpless by a sense of aching intimacy.

Questions immediately appeared in Arthur's mind: How had he survived up until then without touches like these? If Merlin had never been assigned as his manservant, would he have gone his whole life without experiencing this? And now that he's finally experienced this, how could he go without it for the rest of his life?

The thought pained Arthur, so he squeezed even harder.

They didn't talk about it afterwards, but Arthur knew that Merlin knew. Arthur had exposed the softness underneath his hard exterior, and now Merlin knew.

And lord, was it great.

Their previously rare touches turned more and more common. Soon, putting on Armour turned into lingering touches on Arthur's body, and training sessions turned into Merlin haphazardly wiping the sweat from Arthur's forehead as he leaned into the cooling touch on his skin.

Sometimes, if Arthur was feeling brave, he’d even initiate some of these touches.

He’d hook his finger with Merlin’s as they walked to the stables, running his thumb against whatever skin he could reach. He’d warm Merlin’s seemingly forever cold hands by gently pulling them into his own bigger ones. He’d walk up silently behind Merlin as he’s softly humming a song while polishing Arthur’s armour, and wrap his arms around his waist, burying his head into the crook of Merlin’s shoulder.

It was like Arthur's mind was trying to reclaim all touches lost to the years. He craved skin - Merlin's skin - on his. He craved the way Merlin's fingers ran over his muscles. He craved these moments of intimacy where he wasn't Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, and he was just Arthur.

And somehow Merlin knew of this insatiable craving of his, because he was always giving and giving and giving. Arthur never openly asked for the tender touches and the soft trails of fingertips against his stomach, but Merlin - lovely, gorgeous, beautiful Merlin - was always there to give.

The love in Merlin was overflowing, and Arthur was there to catch every last drop of it.

And as Arthur was still human (despite how hard he tried), there were times when he wept.

Arthur cried the same way he cried when he was a child - with his shoulder shaking, his eyes shut, and his hands trembling. He also used to sob with his mouth open and with his grief audible like any other child, but that had long been scolded and beaten out of him.

However, despite the habits that he brought into adulthood, the nights when he cried were no longer like the lonely nights that he suffered through as a child - There was no ache in his chest as tears ran down his cheeks. No biting the collar of his shirt as he attempted to stay quiet. No harsh words to keep him silent.

There were, in their place, gentle caresses to his forehead as Merlin smoothed back his hair, murmuring words of comfort under his breath. A warm shoulder to lean on as he cried quietly. Thumbs that wiped under his lashes and nimble fingers that caressed his cheeks.

A voice that cooed and replied, “I'm here, darling” when Arthur whispered, “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin” through his tears. Lips that pressed against his as another sob seeped out. Arms that wrapped around Arthur, and gentle hands that ran themselves comfortingly over the expanse of his back until they both fell asleep.

And what a joy it was, to have someone who wiped his tears away when he cried, and someone to hold him on cold nights as he slept. To be touched and held and loved.

What a joy Merlin was.