#scot pol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astradrifting · 3 years

Note

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!

#astra rambles #asks #its not quite 5000 words but i got it in under the deadline stumpy :P #half speculation half 'my wildest dreams and hopes'#anti tyrion lannister #kind of #rickon stark #jon snow #sansa stark #arya stark #anti got #speculation #meta #dod 2.0 #dod parallels

86 notes · View notes

thetudorslovers · 3 years

Text

The Guise were a powerful French noble family with estates scattered across northern and eastern France. The main residence was in the Champagne region at Joinville. Claude, Count of Guise was a military hero at age nineteen and a personal friend of the French king. In 1510, he was offered the hand of Renée, the younger daughter of King Louis XII, but he refused. He had already met Antoinette and fallen in love with her. Antoinette came from a good family and had a moderate dowry. In the summer of 1513, Antoinette and Claude were married in the church of St. Paul in Paris. King Louis XII and his son-in-law, the future King Francis I attended the ceremony. Antoinette and Claude then went to live at Bar-le-Duc near Nancy. In September of 1515, Claude fought in the Battle of Marignano and nearly died.Antoinette of Bourbon was the formidable matriarch of the Guise family in sixteenth century France. She had many children who were instrumental in international politics as well as in religious life including her daughter Mary of Guise, Queen of Scotland. Her grand-daughter was Mary Queen of Scots. Antoinette lived to the ripe old age of eighty-nine and the reason we know so much about her is many of her letters survive to this day.

Antoinette of Bourbon-Vendôme was born December 25, 1493 at Chateau de Ham, Picardy, France. Her father was Francis, Count of Vendôme and her mother was Mary of Luxembourg, Countess of St. Pol.

Claude married Antoinette de Bourbon, daughter of François, Count of Vendôme and Marie de Luxembourg, on 9 June 1513; they had 12 children:

-Mary of Guise (1515–1560); married King James V of Scotland and had issue, including Mary, Queen of Scots

-Francis, Duke of Guise (1519–1563)

-Louise of Guise (10 January 1520, Bar-le-Duc – 18 October 1542); married Charles I, Duke of Arschot on 20 February 1541.

-Renée of Guise (2 September 1522 – 3 April 1602), Abbess of St. Pierre, Reims.

-Charles of Guise (1524–1574), Duke of Chevreuse, Archbishop of Reims, and Cardinal of Lorraine.

-Claude, Duke of Aumale (1526–1573)

-Louis I, Cardinal of Guise (1527–1578)

-Philip of Guise (3 September 1529, Joinville – 24 September 1529, Joinville)

-Peter of Guise (b. 3 April 1530, Joinville); died young.

-Antoinette of Guise (31 August 1531, Joinville – 6 March 1561, Joinville), Abbess of Faremoutier

-Francis of Guise (18 April 1534, Joinville – 6 March 1563), Grand Prior of the Order of Malta.

-René, Marquis of Elbeuf (1536–1566)

53 notes · View notes

sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Shelbys at Somme Chapter 17

Thomas X Reader

Word Count: 2640

Summary: Another memory from the trenches claws its way to the surface after the Lees leave behind wire cutters.

by @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas was shaking so badly he was convinced that he was rattling Finn to his core. His ears rang from the explosion they’d narrowly avoided.

“This is why you never pretend to be me. Ok?” Finn vigorously nodded his head. Maybe Thomas wasn’t the only one shaking. He ushered his youngest brother off to join the rest of the family.

Those damned Lees! How am I going to end this without us all getting killed?

It wasn’t until he’d made it a few feet down the road before he froze. If they had enough knowledge to place the grenade in his car, they had to have been watching him. If they were watching…

“Y/N.” He launched himself down the street. His feet pounded against the ground, the soles of his shoes skidding against the gravel or sliding through the mud as he bolted towards the Garrison.

Men dove out of his way, some of which had seen the grenade. Shouting grew up around him as innocent onlookers saw something for the first time. A Shelby sprinting through the streets. Thomas Shelby of all people. The crowd didn’t follow, only gazed in wonder at the gang leader that hadn’t shown an ounce of fear since coming back from the war.

He didn’t twist the door knob when he arrived, only shouldered the wood. It was well into operating hours and the wood gave easily as he skidded to a halt in front of dozens of men. His eyes scanned the room. He refused to wait long enough for them to adjust, but soon enough he didn’t have to.

“Thomas?” Y/N asked, a hand reaching out to him in the dark as he gasped for air.

He clapped his hand over hers, some irrational part inside him screaming that she wasn’t real. It was telling him that these last few months had been some fever dream, that he’d finally overdosed on opium and was holed up in some bed somewhere, while Arthur ran everything into the ground.

Y/N squeezed his hand, “Tommy what’s going on?”

Tommy. No, she was real. And she was in danger.

His voice cracked as he answered, “Have you seen any of the Lees around? They booby trapped my car.”

Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. His eyes had finally adjusted enough that he could see that everyone was staring at them. Even those who tended to keep to themselves had peeked over their tankards. It took every ounce of discipline he had not to draw Y/N closer, to hide her from the prying of Birmingham.

“You can guarantee no one’s been upstairs besides you?”

Y/N glanced at the stairs, then back at him, “I guess I’ll have to go check.”

Before he could stop her she strode towards her room, “Y/N!” He followed quickly.

She was already checking the floor of her bedroom when he caught up. It wasn’t until he found himself glancing to his own rooms that it occurred to him that, instead of her, they were after just him.

He began towards his room as he absently asked, “Where’s Grace?” He didn’t need her following them and getting in the way.

Thomas was answered by a loud thunk and a curse, “She took the day off.”

Y/N sounded more annoyed than usual, but he couldn’t lose focus as he quickly opened his door. As no explosion greeted him, he slowly made his way further and further into the room. After a few minutes, he was startled by Y/N leaning against his dresser.

“I think the Lees don’t know about this place just yet, Tommy.” There it was again. A sense of warmth coiled in his chest as his muscles relaxed. If he could have one thing for the rest of his life, it would be Y/N saying his name like that. With a deep sense of familiarity that made it sound like they’d known each other for a lifetime, maybe even longer.

He cleared his throat, “You’re probably right.”

Thomas glanced up at her, only to be answered by that playful look in her eyes. He took a deep breath as he stood. The room was actually clear. God, I need a cigarette.

He grumbled idly as his fingers closed around a rectangle of cool metal. He quickly pulled it out and barely registered the feel of it in his hand as he jammed a cigarette into his mouth. Thomas could already taste the nicotine, a part of him buzzing to life as it demanded the satisfaction of the burn going down his throat.

“Holy shit.” He barely heard Y/N, but after a pause he turned to face her, cigarette still dangling out of his lips.

Y/N’s eyes had gone wide, her posture rigid as she stared down at his hand. He glanced down, as horror gripped his heart. Did she see a wire?

Her voice broke when she spoke again, “You kept it.” She pressed her hands over her heart, as if to rub away the sting.

That’s when he realized what he had grabbed. In his hand was his “ring”, a cigarette case with Y/N’s initials engraved on the face in elegant swooping letters. The silver box was heavy against his calloused skin as he reflexively rubbed his thumb over the engraving, more out of habit than anything, over the only spot where it’d tarnished from human touch. For the first time in years, it felt foreign in his hand.

Thomas was at a loss for words until, with shaky hands, Y/N pulled out a familiar lighter from her pocket and lit his cigarette for him. While it could’ve been a part of a matching set with the case, one thing set it apart. Instead of engraved initials, they were inlaid gold that spelled out “T.M.S”.

He nearly choked on the smoke as it filled his mouth. Then, taking a shuddering draw, he reached out and brushed his thumb over his initials. There were a thousand things he could say and a thousand more he could deny. But in that moment, after being rubbed raw by the events of the day, he didn’t much care.

“Of course, I did. Do you really think you mean so little to me?”

Y/N took a deep breath, “I was dead, Tommy. You had every reason to get rid of it.”

His hand closed around hers, and the lighter within, “And get rid of the last piece of you that I had left? No, it’s a part of me now. Just like my cap, even my own name. I am Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, and I carry around a cigarette case that has the wrong initials.”

He’d stepped closer during his little speech. One small step, on right after the other until he wasn’t even an inch from pressing his forehead against Y/N’s. His lips, hovering nearby in some sort of limbo, between the need to kiss her or to keep talking and fill the silence.

“Do people think it belonged to an enemy?” Y/N chuckled breathlessly. He could hear the sound of tears in her voice as she desperately tried to lighten the mood.

Thomas shrugged, “It’s an easy rumor that helps with my image.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she finally rested her forehead on his shoulder, “Everyday?”

“Everyday.”

〜

It was the next day; Thomas resisted the urge to pace as he waited for the Inspector to arrive. It’d been a long day of pulling strings, but with the communist’s address in his pocket, he felt oddly hopeful. Now he just needed Ada and Freddie to be anything but stubborn.

Inspector Campbell rounded the corner. In the rain it was difficult to see, but something about the man seemed more haggard, more animalistic. It wasn’t until farther in the conversation that Thomas realized how wrong he was to bring an innocent man into this. But he’d offer up all of Birmingham, if it meant Ada wouldn’t get caught up in all this.

The officer began his tirade, threats against his family. Each one was something he’d anticipated before coming here. The Inspector somehow managed to always ride the line between predictable and problematic. Though, even Thomas had to admit he was seeing red a little by the end. It wasn’t until the Inspector made his last comment that he was caught off guard.

“You know, despite our little feud over these guns, I’m actually surprised by your restraint Mr. Shelby.”

Thomas blinked away the rain, “Pardon me, Inspector?”

He shrugged, “Well, after we grabbed your little friend off the streets, I was expecting more retribution than getting off scot free. Maybe Ms. Y/L/N isn’t as important to you as we thought. Oh well, what’s one more broken girl in Birmingham.”

Inspector Campbell turned to leave and in that moment that it took for his words to sink in, Thomas’ world exploded.

It was HIM.

Thomas’s gun was out of it’s holster before he could stop himself. White hot rage coursed through his veins, his finger twitching on the trigger. Aunt Pol’s voice in his head, reminding him of something called consequences, was the only thing that gave him pause. Then the Inspector was gone.

Thomas knew he looked wild as he lowered the pistol. The image of Y/N shuffling toward him, supporting herself with garbage, burned itself on the back of his eyelids. She was there when he closed his eyes. She was there when he opened them, shadowed by the rain. Her face was turned up in pain. Then it was Arthur he heard, first telling him about the copper that had ambushed him outside.

He stood there for a long time, rain soaking through his coat. It wasn’t until a shout from down the road caught his attention. Y/N, not the ghost, was striding closer beneath an umbrella.

“Tommy? You ok?”

He forced himself to nod, “What’re you doing out here in the rain?”

She raised her eyebrow, “Did you forget? It’s Wednesday.”

〜

[Two Months before Somme]

“Christ Tommy, you’ve got that stupid smile on your face again.” Freddie elbowed him with a grin.

Thomas blinked, “What smile?”

Freddie didn’t answer, only rolled his eyes. The day had actually been a slower one for once. Something in the air had changed and a hush had settled over the soldiers in response. Everyone knew something big was on the horizon, but only a select handful would know for certain. And it definitely wasn’t Thomas.

Instead, Freddie asked a question, “So, when is Y/N gonna become queen of the Peaky Blinders?”

“Queen, huh? What’s that make me?” Thomas snorted.

“You’re dodging the question. I know you’ve got no one back home waiting. And I’ve got that little thing called eyes.”

Thomas ducked his head. He didn’t like talking about the life he could have had. But then something else about what Freddie had said caught his attention.

“It’s that obvious?”

Freddie nodded, “Hopper’s convinced you have a thing for the blokes. Even he sees how you look at her.”

Thomas grimaced, “Well, as long as he’s paying attention to me.”

“You still haven’t answered the question.”

“What question?” Y/N huffed as she tossed a bag down beside the two men. Thomas could already smell the cured meats, she’d been “acquiring’ again.

He quickly shook his head, “Nothing. What’s all this for?”

Y/N flopped beside him, “Made a deal with a regiment or two. If I can get them tasty food, they can get us better guns that aren’t falling apart.”

“And how do you know they won’t turn you in?”

She flashed him a feral grin, “Last time they asked me for whiskey, remember that?” He nodded. “Well, I’d gotten it from their commanding officer. Who is still pissed about that by the way.”

Thomas found himself laughing. It was then that Freddie glanced between them.

Freddie gracelessly stood, “Well, I gotta head out and do the thing. I’ll see you two later.”

“There’s a thing?” Thomas waved away Y/N’s question as Freddie squelched away in the mud.

Queen of the Peaky Blinders.

Thomas ran his fingers through his hair, “So besides wrangling up stolen goods, what have you been doing all day?”

“Christ, don’t get me started.” When he gestured for her to continue she settled in to explain her little misadventure. “Turns out that the Acquisitions Officer is on the hunt for whoever has been taking socks from the stores. He assumes it’s me, which is fair, but it’s not for once and I’ve been dodging that man all day. Not to mention I got a letter.”

He glanced at her, “That’s a first. From who?”

Y/N grimaced, “My dad, the coward he is.”

Thomas scooted closer, his arm brushing against hers, “What’d he do?”

“Idiot didn’t realize he was too old to draft. So, instead of there even being a possibility of him going to war, he smashed his own knee cap. I’ll give him credit for the no hesitation.”

She took a steadying breath, “However, could you imagine what would happen if you’d done something similar? Everyone was already terrified of what would happen to them. So when word got out about what the Old Man did, other’s tried to do the same thing. Except, most people can’t just break their own knees, so they got drafted anyways. And for everyone else? They’d given up before they were even shipped out.”

“He’d rather cripple himself than go to war?”

Y/N nodded, “It’s why I’m here. Almost everyone who worked for my dad got drafted, but upper management was too old. I was the only one left to look out for them.”

“And that’s your job why?”

“I’m the Boss’s daughter, it’s always been me.”

He nodded, “So what’d you do with the letter?”

Y/N flashed him a grin, “Burned it. Got myself a bit while doing it though.”

“Oh you poor thing, if we make it through this will you marry me?” the question was out of his lips before he could stop himself.

Y/N raised her eyebrow, “Are we going around using that for every little inconvenience now?”

He shrugged defensively, “Maybe I just like to say it.”

Y/N barked with laughter, “Keep this up Shelby, and you’ll actually have to get me a ring.” He stared at her for a moment stunned. Had that been an actual ‘Yes’?

Thomas groaned, “Where the hell am I gonna find a ring in a war camp?”

“That’s up to you.”

“You’re the one that usually finds things,” he grumbled exasperated.

She reached down and pulled something out of her pocket, “Here. This can be your ‘ring’.”

He gazed at the cigarette case for a long moment before producing an almost matching lighter. The air had almost grown solemn, the whole world was holding its breath to see if either of them were brave enough.

With a reverence he didn’t even show Aunt Pol’s God, he placed the lighter in Y/N’s hand. And in return, the cold metal of the case slipped between his fingers. Something about the moment felt final, monumental almost. As if these two trinkets had actually been rings exchanged in a church.

“How is it that we even have the same taste in accessories?” Y/N joked, but he could have sworn her grip tightened around the lighter that was once his.

He tugged on his cap, “Dunno, I had mine made after my first job. At least the first one that went right.”

Y/N gasped in mock horror, “The great Thomas Shelby making mistakes?”

“That’s no way to talk to your husband.”

She curled over laughing.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #reader insert #peaky blinders imagine

36 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 3 years

Photo

July 7th 1548 saw the Treaty of Haddington, between France and Scotland, confirming the betrothal of Mary Queen of Scots and Dauphin of France.

Mary wasn’t yet six years old and this was the second treaty arranging her marriage, the first being The Treaty of Greenwich which was ultimately rejected by the Parliament of Scotland on 11 December 1543 and led to The Rough Wooing during which the English King sent his armies north to force us into marrying off our Queen Mary, it was George Gordon, Earl of Huntly who famously called it ‘the rough wooing.’stating….

“We liked not the manner of the wooing, and we could not stoop to being bullied into love."

Mary of Guise turned to the Auld Alliance for help, dangling the carrot of her daughter’s hand for the French Dauphin, Francis, as a reward. On 7 July 1548, the Scottish parliament and the French ambassadors met at the besieged town of Haddington, fifteen miles from Edinburgh, to sign the treaty.

Here is a full transcript of the treaty

In the parliament of a most excellent princess Mary, queen of Scots, held at the abbey of Haddington on 7 July 1548, by one noble and mighty prince James [Hamilton], earl of Arran, lord Hamilton etc., and governor of the realm, and the three estates of the realm being present.

On the which day Monsieur [André de Montalembert, seigneur] d'Essé, lieutenant general of the navy and the army sent by [Henry II], the Most Christian King of France at this present time, showed how his master the King of France, having regard to the ancient league and confederation and amity existing between the realm of France and this country, and of the mortal wars, cruelties, depredations and intolerable injuries done by our old enemies of England against our sovereign lady, being of so tender an age, her realm and her lieges thereof during these diverse years, whereby the said Most Christian King, being moved through fraternal amity and confederation foresaid, could do no less but to aid, support, maintain and defend at his power this tender princess, her realm and her lieges as a propitious and helpful brother against all others who would attempt injury against the same, not by words but by way of deed, and to that effect has presently sent him in this realm with his navy and army of noble men with such directions as to put this realm to the old liberty, privilege and freedom and to recover all strengths, castles and fortalices out of our old enemy’s hands, with the advice, counsel and assistance of my lord governor and nobles of this realm, to their utter power and to expend their lives to that effect, and not only has he sent this army presently but also promises in his said master’s name at all necessary times to come to send and to have in garrison men of war, munition and money in this realm in such quantity that shall repress our said old enemies during the time of war and keep and defend this realm from them and all others in liberty and freedom according to his commission, obligation and promise given to him under the said Most Christian King’s great seals shown and produced in the face of parliament. Therefore, having consideration of the matters stated above and how that the said Most Christian King has set his whole heart and mind for the defence of this realm, he desires in his said master’s name, for the more perfect union and indissolvable bond of perpetual amity, league and confederation, the marriage of our sovereign lady to the effect that the said Most Christian King’s eldest son [Francis Valois], dauphin of France may be joined in matrimony with her grace to the perpetual honour, pleasure and profit of both realms, observing and keeping this realm and the lieges thereof in the same freedom, liberties and laws as they have been in all the Kings of Scotland’s times past, and shall maintain and defend this realm and the lieges thereof as the same as he does for the realm of France and the lieges thereof according to his commission, promise and direction foresaid, produced as said is, and, therefore, desires my lord governor and the three estates of parliament to advise herewith and give their determination in this matter if the desire foresaid is reasonable and acceptable or not. [Mary of Guise], the queen’s grace, our sovereign lady’s most dear mother, being present, my lord governor and the three estates of parliament foresaid, all in one voice, have found and decreed and, by the judgement of parliament, concluded the desire of the said Monsieur D'Essé, lieutenant in the name of the said Most Christian King, his master, (Monsieur [Henri Cleutin, seigneur] D'Oisel, his ambassador, being present in the said parliament confirming the same) very reasonable and have granted that our said sovereign lady be married with the said Dauphin at her perfect age, and presently give their consent thereto, so that the said King of France keep, maintain and defend this realm, the lieges of the same, the liberties and the laws thereof as he does in his own realm of France and for the lieges of the same, and as this realm has been kept, maintained and defended by the noble kings of Scotland in times past according to the promise of the said lieutenant, special commissioner in the said cause, and that our sovereign lady be married to no other person but to the said Dauphin only.

My lord governor, in our sovereign lady’s name, ratifies and approves in this present parliament the determination and consent of the three estates of the same being present, concerning the marriage of our sovereign lady with the Dauphin of France according to the act of parliament made thereupon, providing always that the King of France, the said Dauphin’s dearest father, keep and defend this realm, the laws and the liberties thereof as his own realm, lieges and laws of the same, and has been kept in the times of all the kings of Scotland past, and to marry her to no other person but to the said Dauphin only.

And so it was, with her marriage agreement in place, five-year-old Mary was sent to France to spend the next thirteen years at the French court. The young Queen sailed with Mary from Dumbarton a month later for Roscoff or Saint-Pol-de-Léon in Brittany

The picture is a depiction of Mary Queen of Scot as an infant

#Scotland #scottish #france.#french #treaty #marriage treaty #history #mary queen of scots

17 notes · View notes

nikkzwrites · 3 years

Text

The Girl I Left Behind | Peaky Blinders Fic | Thomas Shelby x OFC | Chapter 2

A/N: So this is a story of a Scottish Mobster named Elspeth Finley and her adventures with and becoming a Shelby.

Content Warning: Smoking, Alcohol, Canon Typical Behavior, Canon Typical Triggers

Words: ~3.7k

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Campbell was working at his desk when a young woman walked in. Her auburn hair curled nicely and wearing an outfit he would not have expected from this type of area. He stood up and cleared his throat. He motioned to the chair for her to sit. He watched as she gently made herself comfortable. She seemed to embody poise and elegance, yet with a slight playful air to her. He felt drawn to what she was to say. “So,” the man cleared his throat, “What brings you here?”

Elspeth smiled at the man and leaned forward, “I heard through the grapevine you were working with Thomas Shelby to lure out the IRA. I believe I might have a better way to help you.”

Maggie giggled as John swung her around the shop. She reached up to press his forehead against her’s. Her blonde hair tickling his skin as she asked him, “How did you convince my hard headed sister to allow us to get married?”

“I don’t quite know to be honest,” John shook his head as he grabbed a bit of whiskey from Seumas Finley’s desk, “One minute I thought she was going to decline and have me kicked out just as you said, then she looked at your Archie and he said he saw nothing wrong with it.”

Maggie shook her head, “Did she very well say anything?”

John shook his head as he took a large gulp from the bottle, “I don’t think so, but I did hear from Thomas that he needed to talk to your family about the arrangements. I assume Archibald, yeah?”

Maggie raised her brow, “Archie?”

John nodded, “Is it not going to be Archibald? He seems to be the one who is in charge.”

Elspeth sat across from Thomas at the Garrison looking over paperwork. The woman spoke up, “You still haven’t asked about the dowry or more about the marriage agreements.” She put her pen down from addressing and writing invitations. She sat back and looked at Thomas expectantly.

“A bit archaic,” Thomas commented without looking up. His voice holding just a bit of playfulness. He also placed his pen down to take a sip of his whiskey. His eyes tried to avoid hers so that he could not have a moment of visual weakness. Thomas knew he needed time to be able to look at her without his thoughts written in his icy orbs. He looked over to Elspeth’s work and commented, “your penmanship is beautiful. Wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“I went to finishing school, you know,” Elspeth remarked back. Her voice showed her aggravation at Thomas’ teasing. She scolded him, “You act too familiar for someone who hasn’t been acquainted with me for nearly two decades.”

Thomas chuckled and sat back to finally look her over again, “graduated finishing school, yet still no husband at your age? Such a disappointment and a waste of precious schooling.” He chuckled and smirked at her. Thomas wanted her just as emotionally compromised as him when they first made eye contact again. So that she had nothing over him when their eyes met.

Elspeth rolled her eyes, “Am I to assume you are going to talk that business with my brother then?”

Thomas hummed a positive and placed his glass down. “Why would I bore you with such business when it is for Archibald and I to discuss,” he asked as he lit a cigarette for him to smoke.

Elspeth waited for him to take a large puff in before she gently stole the cigarette from its resting place on his lips and took in a deep drag. She placed it back where she found it and sat back again. She asked, “Why would you join me in doing such tedious work when it’s customary for your sister to join me? One might say, something for Ada and I to do.”

Thomas took the cigarette from his lips after taking in another breath from it and placed it on the tray to smoke up the room, “I have the better handwriting.” He chuckled and said, “Besides, our sweet Ada has four brothers and no sisters. It would be unfair to expect her to write them all the time.”

“Well, at least now all of you can ask darling Maggie to write as well,” Elspeth noted, “So your Ada could have perfectly helped me. Or maybe your aunt could have done this with me instead if Ada didn’t want.”

Thomas gave a slight nod and went back to his work, “I guess you could say that I volunteered so that I could have some pleasant company and soft features to admire this evening. I did have a matter I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh,” the woman questioned.

“About our speeches,” Thomas noted, “I am to assume you are her maid of honor?”

Elspeth nodded, “Well, of course, I am her closest sister. What was it about our speeches?”

Thomas squashed the cigarette to stop the smoke as he spoke, “I thought we could coordinate our speeches. Make them and the wishes the same to show solidarity in the families and this union becoming a symbol of peace.”

Elspeth smiled. Her heart raced in excitement and anxiety. He had fallen for the trap beautifully and was even making everything more convenient for her, “Oh? What were you thinking of wishing for the couple?”

Ada and Aunt Pol played their cards as they waited for the boys to get home. They were both getting wrapped into this wedding as well. They had only met Maggie for a few minutes, but already the women of the Shelby family had some very strong opinions about the entire situation.

“You said that the little blonde one John is hitching is the sister of that little Finley girl Thomas couldn’t shut up about for years,” Polly asked.

Ada nodded, “Yup. Exactly what I said.”

Polly nodded, “And Thomas is just… okay with John marrying into that family?” She took a deep breath with her cigarette.

“From what it seems at least,” Ada drew and placed another card down, “I think he was out writing up the invitations with her, Elspeth.”

Polly shook her head, “I’m sure he is up to no good about this.”

“Wouldn’t be Thomas if he wasn’t,” Ada remarked.

The elder woman shook her head, “The little blonde one-”

“Maggie.”

“-doesn’t seem to have an ounce of what it takes to be married into these boys and their work. Too soft and sweet, that one,” Polly finished her comment. There was a moment before the matriarch of the Shelbys spoke again. She rolled her eyes and asked, “They are Scots, right? Protestant or Catholic?”

Ada shrugged, “I don’t know if they celebrate. The older ones don’t seem to be religious folks.”

Polly shook her head, “Of course.”

“I actually really like Maggie,” Ada commented, “She seems like she would be a good mother for John’s little ones. Lord knows we’re tired of them.” She laughed.

Polly laughed, “Maybe her sister will come and help her so that we can have more of a break as well.”

Seumas stood with Archibald at their bar. He rolled his eyes and asked, “So, are you sure Elsie agreed to all of this? If I know anything about my twin, she would not want-”

Archibald glared at his younger brother, “You forget Seumas, it is for me and Elspeth to speak about. You need not worry to what we decide.”

“But what about Thom-”

“I said,” his voice raised, “It is for our sister and I discuss. You need not to bother yourself with such matters. Just find yourself a wife. You had some years to do so. Our sister gave up those years for you and you repay her with meddling in her and I’s affairs.”

“You forget, I was the head of the household while you were gone and she is my twin sister not yours Archie,” Seumas argued, “I know more about our family and our sisters’ hearts than you do.”

Archibald yelled, “If you knew our dear sister’s heart, then you would have stopped her five years ago, but you are nothing but a coward to preys upon her sympathies and love for the man who shared her mother’s womb for the same time she did!”

Seumas yelled, “She chose that for herself, not me! She threw herself into the fire so that our siblings could have a chance! What was our family going to do with just a 22 year old girl to raise three children!? How was she going to protect them by herself?”

“The same way she protected herself when she was alone in both France and Germany,” Archibald roared, “Our sister is made of hellfire. Don’t you dare ask me how Elsie would have managed! You just didn’t love her enough!”

“And you love no one else but her,” Seumas growled back, ”she and I share a soul and you just cannot stand that can you? You despise that I can know exactly what she is thinking and you just have to be along for the ride. Elspeth and I saved our family from ruin in every sense of the word while you ran off to play good little soldier for a King who isn’t even ours.”

Elspeth smiled as she did her sister’s hair, “You look absolutely beautiful. Tonight everyone’s eyes will have a hard time parting from you.”

“I just want my John,” Maggie giggled as she did her younger sister’s hair, “Thank you for preparing all of this. I know it must be very...awkward… to have the reception before the wedding.”

Elspeth shook her head, “I just want my closest sister happy.” She held her sister tightly trying to calm herself. She kissed her sister’s head. Elsie whispered into her sister’s golden hair, “Anything for you, my darling.”

Lucy huffed from the front of the sisters doing each other’s hair train and mumbled, “I’m here too you know.” This prompted the older two to laugh as they all held each other close.

Thomas knocked on John’s door. The man’s brother was already drinking and laughing with their eldest brother. Thomas sighed and asked, “Do you really think this is the best way to present yourself for marriage to your refined bride?”

John laughed, “You are so attached to this.”

“Maybe because he thinks after this he can scoop up her older sister that he’s been waiting fifteen years,” Arthur laughed.

Thomas mumbled, “Seventeen.” He cleared his throat, “But my relation to the situation is irrelevant.”

John stood and walked past his brother with a smirk, “Besides, Maggie likes me rowdy.” He winked and walked to the Finley’s with the rest of his family trailing behind.

Ada walked with Thomas asking him, “You aren’t planning anything, are you? I do know that you had your heart set on her sister for a long time.”

“That was years ago Ada,” Thomas told his sister, “I wish that everyone would let it die.” He entered the bar with his siblings to see the Finley siblings. Maggie ran straight to her future husband to be swung around happily. His own blue eyes found their way to the future bride’s older sister. A small smile grew on his face seeing the woman wishing his younger brother well as well as making the introductions of her own youngest siblings to his own. Finn and her youngest sister were right around the ages that he and the oldest Finley girl had met. He recognized the looks on their faces quite well.

Ada leaned to whisper into her brother’s ear, “That look on your face means your feelings haven’t quite died so why should we let the topic die with it?”

Lucy tilted her head looking at Finn Shelby. He was such a cute boy. She smiled and told him, “You’re my boyfriend now.”

Finn blinked and shook his head, “No way. That’s gross.” He tried to stand tall to be intimidating like his older brothers, but he watched her face change to one of disappointment. He blushed and huffed, “Fine. Whatever you want.”

Lucy giggled and grabbed his hand, “Well then, come on. I want to introduce you to my cousins. They are here from Ireland.” She ran off with the boy.

Elspeth smiled seeing Lucy and Finn. She walked further in and spoke with some of her family members that she had purposely invited knowing they were IRA. The familiar feeling of a pair of eyes on her tingled her neck. She smiled and moved to talk to the older brother of the pair of eyes staring at her.

Thomas spoke with some of his own friends while his eyes never left the woman he had met so long ago. When he spied her talking to Arthur, Thomas excused himself from the conversation to start walking towards them. He was unfortunately stopped by the announcement made by Archibald Finley.

Archibald smiled as he stood on a chair. He called out loudly over everyone’s conversations, “Excuse me everyone! It seems to me that dinner is ready. So everyone find your seats and we can get started.”

As the dinner started, John whispered to his soon to be wife. He adored watching her face blush as he playfully joked about their families and making suggestive comments. He felt as though this was going to be the best day of his life. Arthur laughed and reminisced with Archibald about their little siblings. Archibald seemed to be shifting awkwardly and spoke very decidedly. Seumas noticing this, interrupted and started to tell some funny childhood stories of Maggie as well. Edward and Lucy argued as Finn looked pleadingly at Ada to save him from the hot headed Scots. Ada, however, was speaking to some of the Finley cousins. Thomas carefully drank from his whiskey. He noticed something off. Elspeth looked far different from how she was with him earlier. There was something beneath the surface that she was hiding. When she made a small giggle, his brain connected it to the woman he saw in France. But that was in the middle of the war. How could Elspeth be there? Polly sat back and simply watched everyone else. She started to have a very bad feeling about this. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her that this wasn’t going to work out as everyone was hoping.

After everyone was nearly done, Seumas stood up and spoke, “Now let’s hear from the best man, Thomas Shelby!”

Thomas stood and held up his glass. His refined speech making voice emerged as he spoke, “I would like to take this time to make a toast to the bride and to the groom. From your brother who will always be by your side. To your union and the hope you provide, may you always be satisfied.” He held up his glass higher and waited for the cheers before taking a gulp down. He motioned and said, “And now for the Maid of Honor, Elspeth Finley.”

Elspeth smiled. Her face lit up completely. The woman stood on top of the table, “Thank you so much. I too would like to make a toast.” She strolled across to the head of the table where John and Maggie sat, “To the groom!” She smiled and laughed with John. She then pulled her younger sister up onto the table so that they could spin together for a second, “To the bride! From your sister who’s always by your side!” Elspeth pushed her sister into John’s lap as she yelled, holding her glass up to everyone else now, “To the union and the hope you provide!” She waited for the roar from the Blinders and Banshees to calm before she continued with her eyes locked into direct contact with Thomas’. Her voice was much more restrained as if speaking to only Thomas, “May you always be satisfied.” She raised her glass higher.

Just as the glass touched her lips, pounding on the doors disturbed everyone. Quickly, the doors were broken down and cops flooded in. Campbell smiled and said, “Thank you, Thomas.” He turned and said, “Arrest the traitors.”

Suddenly everyone jumped into action. Seumas placed his sister off the table as Archibald yelled over the full out brawl the Banshees and Blinders were having with the cops, “What’s going on?”

Elspeth looked at her little brother and spoke, “Get the lovebirds and the Shelby’s outta here.” She turned to go with her older brothers to try and work everything out and to stop the fighting.

“Yessir,” Edward spoke. He hopped on the table and started to dodge the blows coming from all directions. He herded the Shelby’s and got them through the secret hall out to the back. He pushed Maggie and John through first. Then watched Lucy drag Finn and Ada after them. Edward got Arthur to go next and grabbed onto Polly to guide her through leaving Thomas, Elsie, Seumas, and Archibald behind.

Maggie looked panicked at John and asked, “What’s going on? I thought your brother had a deal with them?”

Polly stared as people started to pour out of the building. She watched as the older three Finley’s emerged from the same secret exit they went through. Thomas getting dragged out by Seumas.

John stormed to Thomas and pulled him up, “What the hell Tommy!”

Edward ran up to his oldest siblings who were counting heads and spoke, “Everyone is accounted for. We were just waiting for you four.”

“What are you blaming me for,” Thomas asked his brother, pushing himself away.

Arthur tried to get in the middle of his younger brothers, “Tommy. I don’t think now is the best time…”

“I KNOW you did this,” John roared, trying to push past Arthur to get to Thomas. He grabbed his brother by his collar and pulled him towards his face, “You addressed those invitations just to find out the guest list! You allowed us all to think you were alright with this just to get ahead!”

As John roared, a fire engulfed the building they were all once in. Everyone gasped watching it go into flames. John let go of Thomas again to watch this. He rushed to Maggie’s side to hold her close to him. Elspeth stood closest to the fire. Large tears rolled down her face. She turned with a smile painted across her face despite her crying, “At least everyone is okay and we can still do this tomorrow.”

John shook his head, “I don’t think I can allow my family to become attached to yours. Everything my family touches becomes ruin.” His eyes glared at Thomas. He bowed his head at the eldest Finleys and kissed Maggie’s head one last time for the night, “I’m sorry.” He stormed away with Arthur and Finn calling after him.

Maggie cried as she ran into Seumas’ arms. She clung onto her older brother. Seumas looked up at Archibald who had scooped up Lucy to comfort her. Elsie’s twin spoke to his older brother who was now holding Edward’s hand, “Let’s get the younger ones somewhere safe.”

Polly spoke up and said, “Ada and I can take you in. Please. It is the least we can do considering.”

Archibald bowed his head, “Thank you. We shouldn’t be too much of a bother. We should be moving on soon.” The two eldest brothers followed the two Shelby women with their younger siblings clinging onto them.

Elspeth had since turned back to watch the fire. Tears still streaming down her face. Her expression completely stone.

Thomas slowly approached her and spoke sorrowfully, “I promise I had nothing to do with this. I will get to the bottom of it.” His hand traced the exposed part of her arm between her gloves and dress.

Elspeth shook her head and laughed. Her chest ached from laughter. She turned to face him. Her eyes still watering as she laughed. Her fingers ran through her hair. “I know you didn’t do this Thomas,” She smiled through her tears. The woman motioned to the burning building, “I know because I did this. Next time, don’t underestimate me, my leadership, or my Banshees.” She looked back at the fire and spoke again, “We were going to London soon anyway. This was just one minor inconvenience as the expense of dragging you down.” Elspeth turned to follow her family but whispered to him before she left, “You really need to catch up, Mr. Shelby. Keep climbing. I am so far past Kimber. Let’s see if you can do it.”

Thomas knew he should have been angry. He could feel rage wanting to bubble up inside of him, but for some reason, he couldn’t allow it to take over him. She had outsmarted him and he could see on her face the same face of all the soldiers who didn’t come home from France. She was like the rest of them. Still at war. Despite what she told him, He knew she burnt her home for the warmth of it, to feel as if she could calm, be in control of something, and to be free of it. He felt kinship with her once again. His heart aflame. He knew he shouldn’t, but he allowed her to slip from his fingers again. He stood there unable to speak. As he watched her leave, he felt as if this was nothing more than an invitation to play her game. A game of cat and mouse. Next time, he’s going to be the cat and maybe, he could catch her genuinely impressed and enraptured by him just as he was her now.

Elspeth walked away from the man. When the woman was finally alone in the dark wet cobblestone streets, she sobbed. Only when there were no eyes to spy her and possibly report back. The woman took the moment to allow her weakness through. Only when she was alone. She had won, but at what cost. Her dear sister’s happiness? She just ruined potentially true love, for what? To prove something to a man who didn’t even love her nor lived up to her expectations? Yet still, his blue eyes haunted her.

#thomas shelby #thomas angst #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #elsie finley x thomas shelby

15 notes · View notes

terrifictudor · 4 years

Text

A brief summary of a sickly king.

Francis II, the eldest son of Henry II and Catherine de médici, was born on the 19th of January, 1544.

Francis was a sickly boy, plagued with respiratory failure at a young age — which inventively stunted his growth and left him with deformed testicles. Regnier de la Planche, a close friend of Catherine de Medici, reported that Francis had ‘genital organs all constrained and blocked making him unable to perform’. Francis’ ill health also meant that he was less-knowledgeable than other noble kids his age, his tutors reported that he was ‘easily distracted’, despite this Francis still received an education befitting for the dauphin of France.

The infant prince was betrothed to Mary, Queen of Scots in an effort to help the Scottish defend themselves against the English. Henry II offered to extricate the Scottish in exchange for his sons betrothal. So, in July of 1548 Mary Landed along the French coast at St. Pol de Leon.

Mary became very caring to Francis, she reportedly treated Francis like a younger brother, and despite his limited abilities, encouraged his riding and outdoor activities.

Francis and Mary, both teenagers, were married on the 24th of April 1558 in in the cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris, by the Cardinal Archbishop of Rouen. Mary’s wedding dress was described by the courtier Pierre de Brantôme as ‘a hundred times more beautiful than a goddess of heaven … her person alone was worth a kingdom.’

On 30th of June 1559, Francis’ father (Henry II) was badly injured in a jousting accident. After a tough ten day battle Henry succumbed to sepsis and Francis was now King Francis II of France.

In mid-November of 1560 it was reported that the king had suffered from dizziness and a ringing in his ear. Days later the king collapsed and had a swelling ‘the size of a nut’. After weeks of suffering from seizures, and a painful abscess, which caused stabbing pains in his head, Francis died from an ear infection on the 5th of December, 1560, just over a year after his succession to the throne.

- Francis II and his wife Mary Queen of scots (1559)

↳ click here for more tudor history

#reign #francis #maryqueenofscots #francisII #francisii #frary #catherinedemedici #henryii #france #reigntv #bash #tudors #frenchmonarchy #thetudors

22 notes · View notes

amidst-wonderland · 5 years

Text

“Weans” // Teaser.

“Jesus!” John cried, burning his finger with the match.

He turned to see both his sister in-law, wife and aunt narrowing their eyes at him, raising a brow in retaliation taking a brief drag. Polly swiftly rips the snout from his lips, tossing it onto the wet grass.

“Oi!”

“I’ll teach you to bloody, Oi me. You heard what Tommy said, we don’t want another Lee situation on our hands, do we?”

“No.” he mumbled, kicking some gravel.

“Good, now straighten up,” she then scowled at Arthur who was leaning on the hood of the Bentley, “the pair of you.”

Surveying the small parish named St. Bernadette’s, it didn’t create the most welcoming atmosphere, or perhaps that was just a Shelby thing but blackened double doors and lack of colour pallet made today’s occasion feel more like a funeral than a christening.

“Thought Michael was done with the church shit, Pol.”

“He is, but Nora’s family are persistent, so there wasn’t much of a choice,” she paused, “you don’t question religious allegiance up here boys; it’ll get you killed.”

___

A little teaser for the upcoming Michael fic. I’m going to apologise in advance there is going to be a lot of Scots-language used but I’ve tried my best to make it as comprehensible as possible. That said, here’s a little glossary.

“Whit”/ What

“Aye”/ Yes

“Tae” / To

“Aw” / All

“Dae” / Dae

“Ma” / “Mammy” / Mum

“Da” / Dad

“Hivin” / Having

“Oan” / On

“Wae” / With

“Naw” / No

“Jist” / Just

“Wean” / Child - There is another line where the kids are referred to as “Wee-yins.”

“Didnae” / Did not

“Wouldnae” / Would not

“Gardyloo” / Throwing a bucket of piss and shit out the window.

“Yur” / “Yer” / Your

“Clatty” / Dirty, unkempt

“Skelped” / Can either mean hit or slap.

“Glesga” / Glasgow, the city both Nora and I call home. This is also the same for “Weegie” which just means you’re from Glasgow.

I’m so sorry! I didn’t realise it was this bad, there’s a few I missed because I think the context speaks for itself but I’m finished with Nora and her Dad’s scene which is probably the only Scots heavy one, that is a significant length. I can’t really write it in English because it would defeat the purpose of the entire plot. Nora doesn’t really speak the language to anyone other than her family.

#Michael Gray imagine #michael gray #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby

16 notes · View notes

scottishcommune · 21 days

Text

Saturday 6th of April, a great clamour echoes down Princes Street. A mixture of music and furious chants and sirens interrupts the usual hum of tourists and traffic. By the gardens, a quiet metal pen is surrounded on both sides...

On one side, a large, noisy, dance party rages. Queers, straight folk, trade unionists and allies mostly blotting out the hate speeches. Occasionally, an off-tempo chant booms out of the sound system, but mostly it’s playing queer classics. Powerful women from the STUC black workers, disabled & LGBT committees gather and speak about real feminism, muffled somewhat by the noise. A message of support from Belfast rings out over the PA. On the other side of the transphobic bloc, antifascists and unaffiliated queer activists rage against the barrier. Chants of ‘No borders, no nations, trans liberation’ and ‘trans rights, women’s rights, one struggle, one fight’ blast out of megaphones...

A good reportback on the counterprotest against Posie Parker and her hate mob in Edinburgh last Saturday

#scot pol #edinburgh #trans liberation #trans rights #antifascism #anarchism

970 notes · View notes

nanshe-of-nina · 5 years

Photo

English princesses aesthetic, part I

Adèle, comtesse de Blois. Daughter of William I and Mathilde de Flandre. Mother of Adèle de Blois, dame de Montlhéry; Lucie-Mahaut de Blois, Countess of Chester; Agnès de Blois, dame de Puiset; Alix de Blois, comtesse de Joigny; and Aénor de Blois, comtesse de Vermandois.

Marie Ire, comtesse de Boulogne. Daughter of Stephen I and Mathilde, comtesse de Boulogne. Mother of Ide, comtesse de Boulogne and Mathilde de Boulogne, Hertogin van Brabant.

Matilda, Herzogin von Sachsen und Bayern. Daughter of Henry II and Alienòr d’Aquitània. Mother of Mathilde von Sachsen, comtesse de Perche.

Eleanor, reina de Castilla. Daughter of Henry II and Alienòr d’Aquitània. Mother of Berenguela I de Castilla; Urraca de Castilla, rainha de Portugal; Blanca de Castilla, reine de France; and Leonor de Castilla, reina d’Aragó.

Joan of England, regina di Sicilia and comtessa de Tolosa. Daughter of Henry II and Alienòr d’Aquitània. Grandmother of Joana, comtessa de Tolosa.

Joan, Queen of Scots. Daughter of John I and Isabelle, comtesse d’Angoulême.

Isabella, Sacri Romani Imperatrix. Daughter of John I and Isabelle, comtesse d’Angoulême. Mother of Margaretha von Hohenstaufen, Landgräfin von Thüringen.

Eleanor of England, Countess of Pembroke and Leicester. Daughter of John I and Isabelle, comtesse d’Angoulême. Mother of Eleanor de Montfort, Princess of Wales. Grandmother of Anastasia de Montfort, contessa di Nola and Gwenllian ferch Llywelyn.

Margaret, Queen of Scots. Daughter of Henry III and Alienòr de Provença. Mother of Maighread of Scotland, Dronning av Norge. Grandmother of Margrete, Maid of Norway.

Beatrice, Countess of Richmond. Daughter of Henry III and Alienòr de Provença. Mother of Mari Breizh, comtesse de Saint-Pol; Blanche Breizh, dame de Conches; and Eleonora Breizh, Markiezin van Namen.

#house of normandy #medieval #house of blois #house of plantagenet #english history #european history #women's history #history #royalty aesthetic #nanshe's graphics

61 notes · View notes

ncaoimhe · 5 years

Text

It's like ahead of the curve to be behind the curve - pol Scot

14 notes · View notes

moviestorian · 5 years

Note

As someone who loves films and history, can you name some films that bugged you from a historical perspective? Not necessarily historical accuracy per se, but where you feel they way they changed history ruined the story?

Hi! :)

Ooooh I love this question! Indeed, cinema and history are my two greatest passions. I’d like to point out that I don’t expect a film to be 100% period accurate, because it’s really difficult to achieve and also the screenwriting requires some specific narrative/pacing choices for the storytelling’s sake. I think sometimes the liberties taken by the director/writer can be advantageous, but that’s rarely the case. I’m going to concentrate on the examples where it didn’t, in my personal opinion, work well and I’m gonna try to explain my choices.

In no particular order:

Pretty much anything based on Phillippa Gregory’s novels, that is: The Other Boleyn Girl, The White Queen, The White Princess, etc. Watching these are usually ultimate cringe compilations. And certainly constantly pitting women against each other to create a cheap drama is not “feminism”, despite Gregory and Emma Frost trying to convince us otherwise. Also, congratulations for making the majority of the characters not only historically inaccurate, but largely unsympathetic.

The Imitation Game. Visually and on the technical aspects of it, it’s a very good movie with amazing cast (and music!). It was the script which really bugged me. It’s not just about being largely inaccurate (I remember seeing someone doing a scene by scene analysis in terms of fact checking, and the entire movie is only about 40% historically accurate), but it’s about the scale and how they made the entire story and the people involved absolutely one dimensional. It’s oversimplified, and I feel like they made up some things just to stir drama, thus taking away most of Turing’s complexities, especially when it comes to the relationship with his team (what was it with making Hugh Alexander look like a complete asshole and a violent man? Or turning commander Denniston into a villain for no literal reason?). It doesn’t really help that Cumberbatch, who is imo a very good actor overall, was directed in such a way that he was basically Sherlock 2.0. I really love the fact that they made it look like breaking the Enigma code was basically 1)done by like 5 people; 2)an accident. Not to mention that many lines from the movie are so trite I wanna *headdesk*.

Aftermath (pol. Pokłosie) - I think the movie worked very well as a crime story for most of the time, and I’m glad the director dared to touch the sensitive topic of Jedwabne, but I have no idea what the fuck was he thinking when he was writing the scene in which one of the main characters was LITERALLY stabbed and pretty much crucified to the barn in a Polish village in 2001. Like, I get the village was fictional, but the movie was supposed to be realistic, right? Honestly, wtf.

Mary Queen of Scots - that movie was not only boring as hell, but dear filmmakers, having Mary forcing herself on her husband isn’t “empowering” or something to be praised for. The actors were wasted on such blandly written characters.

I’m sad to admit it, but I’m afraid BoRhap also applies. Inaccuracy is one thing, but I wish the script wasn’t so banal.

Knightfall. Watching this show destroyed my brain cells. Relying your storyline on a forced romance between a knight of the Templars and queen Joan, who was supposedly dead by the time the action of the show takes place, was a pretty bold choice. And oh boy, what we do NOT have in this show! We have the Holy Grail, Philip the Fair being friends with the Templars, faked virginity test, the conflict with the pope who should also be dead at this point, de Nogaret being in love with Isabella, murder plots, Philip murdering his pregnant wife during the battle (but the child somehow survived and was born)…That show was fricking wild and I hella don’t want to see season 2.

Victoria - I really liked season 1, but as the show progressed it has become very poorly written. Again, everything for the drama TM.

Aaaaand unpopular opinion alert: the last 20 minutes or so of Schindler’s List. I’m not gonna rant about the fact that there’s a serious factual error literally in the first few minutes of the film (with the subtitles explaining the outbreak of WWII) because I was eventually really invested in the plot and I adored the cinematography, but honestly? The last 20-30 minutes (sth like that)ruined the script to a huge extent. Everything we’ve seen before turned overly melodramatic - I’m talking about the scene in which Schindler starts sobbing about being ashamed that he didn’t save more lives. I get what they were trying to do here, but to have Schindler say it out loud, in front of a few hundred people, expressively lamenting about whether or not he should’ve sold his car or even his pin in order to save more lives is so awfully straightforward and rather unsubtle exposition. Real shame, if you ask me, because I really liked the movie overall and if not for that ending I’d give it a higher rating. Everything became way too black and white, you know? I realize that probably many people will disagree, but that was my impression.

That’s all what I can think of right now. :D

#answered #yogurtbattle #wera speaks #hopefully i won't get eaten for the last one XD

2 notes · View notes

augustnoptilecustele · 6 years

Text

Spunea cineva odata ca "O sa ajungi la ziua in care n-ai sa mai simtit nimic. N-o sa te mai afecteze nimic, n-o sa te mai miste nimic. Ai sa ajungi ziua in care o sa fii gol, secat de ganduri, de sentimente, de ideii, de intrebari, de raspunsuri, de ipoteze, de concluzii. O sa te trezesti intr-o zi mergand pe strada, ascultand muzica ta preferata, anume piesa aia care trezea in tine toate ideile si gandurile posibile si imposibile. Si ai sa vrei sa gandesti, sa te gandesti. Dar n ai sa poti. Mintea si sufletul tau vor fi goale, secate, gandurile tale vor fi epuizate. N-ai sa crezi si ai sa continui sa cauti in tine ceva sa te faca sa simti, ceva sa te faca sa razi sau sa plangi, ceva sa te minuneze. N-ai sa gasesti. Ai sa fii neutru, iar nutralitatea ta iti va fi si ea neutra, desi vei avea senzatia ca <Uite ca am gasit ceva sa ma miste>. Vei crede asta doar pt ca nu poti crede ca nu mai e nimic din tine. Vei crede asta pt a nu accepta ideea ca ce era in tine a murit, nu mai e. Dar asa e. Nu mai e".

Atunci, nu crdeam ca e posibil asa ceva. Cum adica eu, care am suferit continuu si inca sufar, eu care am atatea ganduri si ideii care ma abunda continuu fara sa vreau, eu care ma scufund in probleme existentiale, tocmai eu sa ajung asa ? N-am crezut. Am negat, nu m am asteptat.

Azi, mergeam pe strada, ascultand muzica mea preferata, melodia aia care ma atinge acolo unde trebuie. Am iesit din casa cu gandul de a vorbi cu mine, de a ma asculta, de ma regasi, de a mi fi alaturi. Dar eu parca nu eram. Eram doar cea de pe strada, cea care privea in gol. Am realizat apoi, cand m am asezat pe o banca, ca am ajuns la acea zi. La ziua in care am sa ma pierd. La ziua in care n am sa ma mai gasesc in mine. La ziua in care inima si sufletul meu sunt goale. La ziua in care o sa vreau sa scot cuvinte din mine, dar n am sa pot.

Si totusi, daca e asa, acum, aici pe banca, cu muzica mea. De ce reusesc sa scot aceste cuvinte ? Cum de le pot gandi. Oare teoria de mai sus sa nu fie adevarata ? Oare sa fie prea abastracta pentru a o intelege ? Sau oare sa fie facuta intentionat pentru a ne regasi si pentru a ne retrai?

Sa fie oare asta un paradox ? Sau pur si simplu o confruntare. Doua idei care se bat in cap. Ca doua gauri negre ce incearca sa se absoarba una pe alta dar nu reusesc, asa ca plutesc un in fata alteia la o distanta mica. Sau sa fie doua idei asemnatoare care nu se pot contopi, ca doi magneti cu acelasi pol care se resping ?

Vom stii vreodata ?

35 notes · View notes

sorchaivy · 6 years

Text

Get to know me post

Name: Not one I disclose online - but Sorcha is a Gaelic variant

Nickname: Never really had one - parents chose a hugely unoriginal name that doesn’t lend itself to nicknames. Got called “Walking Dictionary” a lot at school, but it was meant as an insult

Gender: Female

Zodiac Sign: Libra (and/or Gort/Ivy in Celtic, and Rooster in East-Asian lunar zodiac). I don’t set any store by it these days though.

Height: 5′ 5″ish

Languages spoken: English - but I still kind of remember my school-girl Italian, and can manage some simple phrases in Mandarin, Japanese, French, Spanish, Greek, Portuguese, and Scots Gaelic.

Favourite Fruits: I’m terrible at eating fruit, but if I had to choose, I’d say freeze-dried raspberries (the acidity of fresh ones hurts my mouth and makes me v v sad)

Favourite Scent: Ooof. I’ve developed some pretty nasty histamine and asthma reactions to most scented things. But... okay, perfume/cologne-wise, I LOVE the smell of balsam and cedar. Incense, I’m a sucker for Nag Champa. And just general smells... I love the smell of honeysuckle blossom, of orange blossom, of fresh-baked cookies, and a really good curry

Favourite season: Early autumn - crisp, cool nights and mornings, clear sunny days

Favourite Colour: I have to pick just one? I love jewel colours - kyanite and sapphire blues, amethyst purples, garnet reds, ruby pinks, emerald and malachite greens, plus deep teal blue-greens. I wear a LOT of greys, because they work so well with all of the jewel colours. I also love that really ambiguous colour that’s partway between purple, pink and grey; it’ll often be called ‘Old Plum’ or ‘Ash Rose’ and it’s really tricky to get right and soooooooo beautiful

Favourite animal: I can’t choose just one! I own (am owned by) a cat, but I will always stop and say hi to cats, dogs, possums, crows, wombats, echidnas... honestly, I cannot choose just one favourite animal

Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate: TEA - I am a tannin fuelled individual, complete with tea-themed tattoos. But I also love good hot chocolate (especially with a touch of chili or cayenne pepper)

Average hours of sleep: About 8 hours - I’ve developed an actual body clock which means I fall asleep and wake up at certain times without alarms

Favourite fictional characters: Cannot choose just one! Matilda Wormwood was probably the first character I truly and deeply identified with; I also love Connie Maheshwaran, Tiffany Aching, Kitai... I seem to love and focus on intelligent, sparky, independent women and girls.

Number of blankets you sleep with: Right now, one microfibre blanket (mmmmm, fuzzy), with an empty doona-cover over the top.

Blog Created: January this year? I think? I’m bad with time.

What I post: Social justice dialogues, especially around people of colour, first nations rights, LGBTQIA+ rights, social parity and equity... but also funny cat picks, knitting stuff, pretty things that catch my eye, humans-are-weird stuff I find amusing...

Favourite Songs: aaaaand again I can’t choose just one! Basically the whole Zoe Keating “Into the Trees” album, “The Call” by Regina Spektor, “Aevin Endar” and “Hoppi Pol” by Jonsi, but also the “V.A.S.T.” album by V.A.S.T., “Unwell” by Matchbox Twenty, “Angry Little Pill” by Alanis Morrisette... and that’s not even touching on the classical/orchestral or jazz music I love...

Favourite Artists: I honestly couldn’t choose if I tried. Not to sound like That Asshole, but I just know what I love when I see it.

Favourite Books: Again, cannot choose just one! But if I were to list books that I will re-read until the spines fall apart... “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen, “Matilda” by Roald Dahl, “The Broken Earth Trilogy” by N. K. Jemisin, “A Hat Full of Sky” (and all the Tiffany Aching books) by Terry Pratchett, “The Codex Alera” by Jim Butcher (a girl’s gotta read some glorious trash now and then!) - oh and “The Secret Lives of Color” by Kassia St Clair for my non-fiction reading!

Last Movie I watched: The Last Jedi (or, in the cinemas, Black Panther)

Last thing I googled: "the last woman to make sea silk” for a beautiful BBC article about Chiara Vigo

Do I get asks: Sometimes - not that often, TBH

Following: 170... so far Followers: 44 - which is honestly about 43 more than I ever expected! Lucky Number: 16? But also multiples of 12 (because they’re divisible by 3 and 4 and, look it makes sense in my head okay?)

Instruments: Piano, flute (both desperately out of practice), voice

Dream Job: Sculptor for Weta Workshop; or paid to knit and create things

Dream Trip: A long, gently rambling exploration of Scotland, Ireland and Wales, followed by an equally long, gently rambling exploration of both islands of New Zealand

Do I have a crush: More celebrity crushes than I feel comfortable admitting to, a waitress at a nearby cafe/bar linked with the library, a couple of my friends...

Hair Colour: Mousy ash-brown, currently dyed deep green

Thanks for the tag, @prebeartobemoosified, this was fun!

Not going to tag anyone myself, but feel free to tag me if you’re inspired to do one of these because of this!

2 notes · View notes