#hotspur husbands

[sanguinarysanguinity]

Sawyer and Hobbs

Rewatched Mutiny and Retribution the other night, and found myself absolutely fascinated with Hobbs' and Sawyer's relationship. Sawyer, a captain with a celebrated career, whose past courage and exploits are the pride of the fleet, but who, in his advancing age, is no longer fit to command. And Hobbs, his loyal defender, who served with him for the length of that celebrated career, who devoutly loves and esteems him and protects him from all comers, even as it becomes more and more incontrovertible that Sawyer really is unfit to command.

Sawyer in decline, his former glory gone to ashes. And Hobbs, Sawyer's loyal partisan, his heart breaking to watch the man he loves become a ruin of himself.

And all I could see was Hornblower and Bush. Would not Bush behave exactly like that, should this fate befall Hornblower? Hornblower's last and most savage defender, even in the face of all prudence and reason? Would not his heart break, exactly like that, as it became clear that Hornblower's true enemies were not the men that surrounded him, but the demons slowly eating away his mind?

I've written several stories in which Hornblower fears becoming like Sawyer: falling to dementia and paranoia, a victim of the mental demons that plagued him for his entire life.

Do I need to write one about Bush, too, savaging all who came near, even as he utterly fails to protect Hornblower from the true enemy, the fallibility of his own flesh?

Or is it enough that Mutiny and Retribution already gave it to us, in the form of Hobbs and Sawyer?

[lacnunga]

Been re-reading @silverfoxstole 'Despatches' series and I did wanna draw something for it - this one is a scene from chapter 48 'Cold Comfort' bc I love the boys cuddling :)

[aubreysmaturin]

WILLIAM BUSH | I BET ON LOSING DOGS

The quality is so bad but I needed to get this out of my system because mitski 🤝 william bush

[presidentheartbeat6]

For art requests! Bush and Hornblower during the infamous Kingston Debauch, perhaps? Drinking and playing cards and trying hopelessly to pretend they aren't obsessed with each other

HDJFFNBFGDFJBGH. THANK YOU FOR THIS,,<3

They are just. Yk. Watching each other fondly. As one does. Drinking and then stumbling home together. Totally normal platonic behavior.

[markrodin]

lovely chatting🌅

[insanityisthecure]

"Bush watched as Hornblower's capable fingers worked the parallel rulers across the chart; Hornblower had long bony hands with something of beauty about them, and it was actually fascinating to watch them doing work at which they were so supremely competent."

-Lieutenant Hornblower: C.S Forester

subtle.

[therealslimshakespeare]

My Pinterest is choke-full of these Middle Ages idiots, and yeah, To Scold a King is definitely getting at least two prequels because we don’t choose the brain rot, the brain rot chooses us

[sanguinarysanguinity]

would love to know 9, 15 and 10 of the ship asks for Hornblower/Bush!

Ask, and ye shall receive!

9. …what my ideal endgame for them is.

The sequel I never wrote for "Until Death or England Do Us Part", in which they are serving as Commodore and Flag Captain while crankily, fussily married. Hornblower is intolerable as a husband, petty and sniping and refusing to show anything that might be construed as favoritism toward his husband (and you know by "favoritism" he means "affection"), while Bush is all, "You have my utmost loyalty and obedience as an officer, and of course I love you no matter how insufferable you are, but don't expect me to warm your bed while you behave like that." And just about the time that Bush has managed to drill it through Hornblower's thick skull that he can show some affection and even express an apology without the world coming to an end…

…Hornblower comes down with cholera, and Bush, for the sake of the service, has to abandon him in Riga.

Come spring, he resigns his posting to the Nonsuch so that he can hitch a ride on the Clam back to Riga, either to nurse Hornblower or to bury him, he doesn't know which -- and then of course Hornblower finds out he gave up his posting to the Nonsuch and reads him the riot act (like HELL the Admiralty is going to give you another ship after that!), and Bush openly weeps because he's so goddamn relieved to have his cranky, crotchety, insufferable husband back.

And the two of them go on like that until the end of the war (Hornblower does manage to get Bush another ship), and then when the Napoleonic wars end, they go work for an upstart republican navy in South America and do it all over again.

Until the morning comes that Bush is too arthritic to relish the shipboard life, at which point Hornblower decides fuck this for a game of soldiers and they resign their commissions and retire to Naples, where the Code Napoleon is still in effect and thus homosexuality is still legal, and the two of them companionably row into their sunset years, watching the sun rise behind Vesuvius while they eat sfogliatelle and drink sweet coffee and bicker about the nature of happiness.

Except for the times that Hornblower is compelled to meddle with the shipping down in the harbour, he and Bush saving the day through cleverness and wit and sheer grit one last time…

15. …how I wish their story would go/would have gone.

During that two days leave in Kingston, early in the time they knew each other, they fucking admit to each other how sweet they are on the other, how they yearn for the other's admiration and approbation, and, yes, they fuck about it.

And while both are manfully resigned to nothing coming of it -- Hornblower has his new command, after all, and Bush his bedbugs to battle -- they know. And so when fate tips them into each other's arms again in Portsmouth six months later, it's the beginning of a very restrained, very discreet, on-again-off-again situationship that shapes both their lives. Maybe Hornblower is still foolish enough to get married to Maria. (He has an idea that it will bring some safety to he and Bush, if he can demonstrate his heterosexuality with a wife and children, whereas Maria wants to get out of her mother's boardinghouse and start a life and family of her own. Bush thinks this marriage idea is the greatest foolishness he's ever heard of, but he's prepared to suffer it if he and Maria can come to an understanding. They do. And in time, something more than an understanding.) But all three of them go into it with their eyes wide open, and when grief comes to visit the little Hornblower family, Bush cries more freely than Hornblower can.

And the whole situationship sometimes gets stiff and weird and awkward (because Hornblower is stiff and weird and awkward), but it's also the easiest and most-right thing either of them has ever done, and even if they agree (from an excess of practicality) to break it off when Hornblower gets promoted into a different ship without Bush, they each keep faith with the other even in the off times.

It all ends at Caudebec, of course. Every relationship ends: either you split up or one of you dies (or both of you die), and everyone knows that life in the service consists of many partings. But they had loved each other before the end, loved each other as best as they knew how. And it was imperfect and flawed and far too short, but what love isn't? Hornblower builds his pyramid of skulls to Bush's memory, and he lets himself weep.

He's never the same after that. But why should he be the same? Loving Bush, and being loved by Bush, changed him. Mostly he tries not to think of Bush; mostly he succeeds. But through custom and experience, during his time with Bush he learned to be a little more demonstrative, a little more open to the softer emotions. And while Richard has no real memories of Bush, Bush still has a lasting legacy in the relationship that Richard has with his father. As Richard leaves the easy affection of babyhood behind, grows into the awkwardness of his teenage years, Hornblower never quite retreats into the stiff formality of so many fathers. He once learned how to love and be loved, and those lessons serve him well with Richard.

And what better legacy can a man have?

10. …rate the level of stupid they reach in their pining.

Bush is eminently sensible in his pining. He can't have Hornblower and he knows he can't have Hornblower, and so that's the end of it. He sublimates all his pining into service, and that is very nearly enough for him. (And as for that last gap between what he can have and what he wants? Well, what of it? The sea is made of tears, and grows saltier every day.)

Which is just as well, for Hornblower manages to incorporate AT LEAST two peoples' worth of stupid into his own practice. He could have everything he wanted if he just opened his mouth and asked for it. But will he? No, he will not. Hell, he won't even admit to himself that he wants it. He'll just pine and yearn and every day die a little more inside, and steadfastly refuse to admit to any of it. Not even to himself, not even in the very deepest dark of night, lying awake and torturing himself with the mystery of why he'll never be happy…

[sirastar]

😍

First wild night in Kingston.

[aubreysmaturin]

I've uploaded a new chapter in my fic....5 years later

[pharoespyramid]

sonny and his bfs

[kanesonforever]

The way Harry looks at his Sonny 💖 This is melting my heart

[xserpx]

#this is still your finest work serp 😂 it is also still the stupidest thing i've ever done and i still dgaf 😂

this is the stupidest thing i’ve ever done and idgaf

[theworldisyonces]

Jay looks so proud of his wifey 😍

Renaissance World tour: Show 12 Night 5, Tottenham Hotspur Stadium - London, England (6/4/23).

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

SECOND ROUND: 29th Tilt

Gu Tingye, The Story of Minglan (2018) VS. Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe, Ivanhoe (1982)

Propaganda

Gu Tingye, The Story of Minglan (2018) Portrayed by: Feng Shaofeng Defeated Opponents: - Gündoğdu Bey [Kaan Taşaner], Resurrection: Ertuğrul {Diriliş: Ertuğrul} (2014-2019) - Sir Henry “Hotspur” Percy [Joe Armstrong], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

“Clever, kind, and loyal. Smart-ass of THE CENTURY. He puts up with no shit, plays a mean game of polo, kicks ass in war, and loves his wife only *slightly* less than he loves his children. He is sharp and sassy and sexy as hell--like a kind of Chinese James Spader. Hot Husband with a double capital "H".

Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe, Ivanhoe (1982) Portrayed by: Anthony Andrews Defeated Opponents: - King Edward III Plantagenet [Blake Ritson], A World Without End (2012) - Sir Guy of Gisborne [Michael Wincott], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1990)

“ANTHONY. ANDREWS. Have you seen him? Is more needed?”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Gu Tingye:

For Ivanhoe:

[smolvenger]

❤️Happy Birthday ❤️

🎉🎉🎉I hope you have a wonderful day 🎉🎉🎉

Please can I request a little blurb with Prince Hal and "touch her and you die" 😻😻😻

Thank you!

Why hello there! Thanks, I got a manicure and went to a bookshop and ate Italian food so it was great! And here is the blurb!

Rain Within Doors (Prince Hal x fem! Reader)

Summary: When the king falls ill, your betrothed, Prince Hal, returns.

Word Count: 1923

Warnings: some sexual harassment but the a-hole is saved in time, I try to keep it close to Shakespeare. Angst and fluff. I stole a line from Game of Thrones because it fit (the Shakespeare histories WERE kind of the Game of Thrones of their time minus the dragons and excessive exploitation of women)

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You waited anxiously and eagerly for your dear betrothed. He needed to hurry here. Things had all turned for the worse. 

Poor King Henry the Fourth was one minute at a table with all of you The Lord of Westmoreland arrived delivering the news of success in battle against Hotspur’s followers attempting to usurp the king. Everyone gasped. The lords who allied with Henry the Fourth were there- the Lord of Harcourt, Sir John Blunt, and others, all drooped their shoulders in relief. You, the younger two princes Thomas and Humphrey, The Lord of Warwick, and the King all smiled. The king shakily rose to praise Westmoreland

…then suddenly he began wheezing and fainted. 

Everyone gasped. Humphrey and Warwick met them on the grounds to give aid to the old king. Little Thomas cried for his father and you put him, your soon-to-be brother-in-law, in a hug, rubbing his back. 

“It’s all right, you know these fits happen often,” Warwick assumed, ever the voice of peace.

As the king came to, he was supported up. You were among the party to help settle him into bed. He asked the crown be placed on the pillow next to him with a raspy voice. And for musicians to play in the next room. Everyone complied.

You knew your betrothed had business in London. Even if it was in a bad place, he assured you it was nothing involving anything criminal (or whores) and that he would be back. The second eldest, Thomas, was dealing with the rebels with forces of his own and was on his way back.

“My lord, let me sit with you, so you need not be alone,” you offered, gathering a chair.

You had been sent here to marry the notorious Prince of Wales. Though you were nervous in this new castle, King Henry the Fourth was gentle with you. He welcomed you with a smile and open arms. The man who already considered you a daughter-in-law in his heart and the other princes saw you as a sister. He would let you dine with him and even play a little dice game with the family, smiling at you. Warmth on the face of the aged Bolingbroke- the lord who, long ago,  won the favor of the people so much it broke him out of exile and then thrust him into the role of king unexpectedly. Once Henry Bolingbroke, christened Henry the Fourth, wore shining golden armor as he rode on a horse. Paraded through the city as people threw flower petals at him.

Now how…weak he was! A shell of himself! Hardly the proud golden king anymore!

He reached out for your hand and you accepted it.

“Why-dear lady, I thank you. To think a pearl may be thrown to swine… to think my Harry should of all men be your husband…” he wheezed.  

“My lord, you must know- your eldest son has not….treated me poorly.” 

You didn’t know him well- the beautiful, fiery, mischievous, wild prince Henry- or Harry as called by his friends or family. Or Hal as those thieves and whores so affectionately called him.

This was to be a marriage for alliance and station, not of affection. When you arrived, you expected a frivolous, drinking, philandering Baccus. But Hal…. he was kind to you. He always smiled at you and called you sweet names. He was rumored to spend time studying in libraries more than drinking. One time, he found a romantic poem, copied it on paper, and gave it to you as a lover’s token. It touched you- who knew how he would fare as king but you felt he would make at least a decent husband!

“Just rest my lord, please,” you asked. The king indeed settled.

You walked out to the hallway to face the others. They peeked in and soon saw his eyes were closed, but he was breathing. The musicians in the next room played such calm, nearly dreamlike melodies compared to the anxiety storming inside of your being. 

Soon enough, the king settled into a deep sleep. You smiled a little- poor Henry the Fourth was a notorious insomniac, wandering the castle in the late hours from his racing worries. That should give him some relief and help with his sickness. 

But to think…here you were about to watch that old man die. Die before you could officially call him family.  

A couple of tears fell, and you walked out to the hallway staring out. It was a cold, bitter day. The winter chill stinging the glass window when you touched it.

But there was a sound- hooves.

When you leaned closer to the window, you let out a gasp. 

Hal was here in a long, beautiful black and red cape on a beautiful black horse as if he were about to rescue a damsel. And behind him a couple of others. You covered your mouth but felt a smile on your lips.

Picking up your skirts, you hurried down to the others in the outer hall. Warwick was hushing the two boys from talking too loud, to watch over the king in his sleep. 

“Humphrey! Thomas! He’s back!” you whispered.

“Who?” replied Thomas. 

They turned and then heard Hal’s voice asking for him. You and the others hurried there.

In the torch-lit hallway, your eyes feasted on Hal. The most beautiful man you had ever seen with the most deliciously fitted black velvet doublet, swooping off his cape with a gallantry that made your insides tingle.

He turned and went to you first.

“How now, My most fair lady?”

“Oh, much worried but cheered by your return, my lord,” you replied.

Hal’s eyes softened at you, then he looked at his crying brothers- Humphrey and Thomas.

“What- all of this rain in of door when it should be out of doors? How is the king?” Hal asked.

“ Exceeding ill” explained Humphrey sadly.

“Please be quiet, His grace is asleep,” warned the Lord of Warwick. 

Hal requested to see his father, and the lord of Warwick led him to the bed.

Everyone hushed and walked out to the other room, keeping quiet to give the king as much rest as he needed. Everyone worried. It was all so much- you needed some space.

With your heart calming, you went to one hallway, hugging yourself to look at how the moon shone over the winter evening through the windows. 

The Lord Harcourt went up to you. An older man with sharp cheekbones and a sharp chin, a pale face, and dark eyes. You only knew him as an ally and advisor to the king.  As you stood alone, staring out the window.

“Good evening, Lady Y/N.” he greeted.

“Good evening, my lord,” you replied. 

“You do look rather lovely tonight in the moonlight,” he complimented.

Already you felt uneasy. Alone with him, when all the others were fretting over the king. You began to take a step to return.

“You…you flatter me, my lord, thank you.”

Right as you turned, the lord reached an arm from his rich, velvet clothes and grabbed you.

“It seems a shame for such a fine lady to be wasted upon riotous Harry. I should have had you for my wife instead.”

“My lord, then wait until the king awakens and discuss it with him and announce you will-will-will court me openly like a gentleman,” you blubbered out, though you were starting to get scared.

He tried to sweetly, seductively brush your cheek but you had enough and swatted it away.

“Oh! The lady is a bit too cold, methinks.”

“And a lady is treated with respect, sir! My lord, please let me go.  I must attend on his majesty.”

“Your drunken oaf of an intended is waiting on him, who is going to stop!”

“But you are a fool! Please, let me leave!”

He backed you up until you were in a corner. Your heart pounded hard.

“Please- my lord, I swear, do not do anything that might insult my honor! I don’t want to-Please!” you cried.

“Then be not so fair and tempt a man to sin! And you have tempted me long enough. The one crown Prince Hal is deserving of is the Cuckhold’s horns.”

“Please, my lord- let me go!” you begged. 

To your horror, you felt a thin, clawlike hand reach for your leg under your skirt, then up, trying to lower your bodice to show your breasts. You squirmed, but one arm held you back.

“No, my lady. I want a see what I could be enjoying on our wedding night.”

He placed a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. Tears welled up in you. 

With a free hand, though it shook, you slapped him hard. 

His hand dropped. He was shocked you were going to fight back. You tried to flee when he grabbed you back, ready to drag you off and force you to strip or do more when-

“Release yourself from the Princess of Wales right now!” threatened your intended.

Hal hurried in and grabbed the lord. He then took out his dagger, pointing it to your attacker’s chest. You jumped off and went behind Hal.

“What- my lord!” the lord was shocked that dishonorable, silly Prince Hal was capable of this. Then he scoffed. 

“She is not yet your wife-” he argued. 

“She is your princess and soon- your queen!” Hal reminded him.

The Lord of Harcourt pointed to where you stood and backed away behind Hal.

“She’s-she was trying to seduce me! The Lady is nothing but a common strumpet”

Hal punched him in the face. You let out a gasp. The Lord nursed his cheek. But Hal kept his dagger up at him. You heard footsteps and murmurs as the others went into the room. The younger Lancaster brothers staying by you loyally. The lords turned pale and slack-jawed.

“You are not welcome in this court until after our marriage. And then you will have to beg to be let in. And If you ever lay a hand on that sweet lady again, it will be the last time you have hands!” Hal barked at him.

The Lord of Harcourt shook and then relented, bowing his head. 

“Now, flee. Before I decide to persuade my father to behead you when he awakes.”

The lord fled into the shadows, a few attendants seeing him out. The others asked after you, but it was Hal who boldly embraced you. It was quite intimate for court protocol, but when had Hal ever done what everyone expected?

 “He-He frightened me.” you choked out.

“You need not be frightened, my lady, you’ll be safe. Did he hurt you? Do anything?” Hal questioned.

“He groped my leg, and tried to take my dress off, but no more. You caught him before more could be done. I-I -I promise you, Hal, I never intended to seduce him in any way! Do you believe me?”

Hal clasped your hands in his.

“Why would I not believe my dearest lady?” Hal replied.

Full of emotion, you leaned down and kissed them. Hal’s mouth opened a little and he smiled at you. He cupped your cheek sweetly. 

The party returned to wait on the king. You saw Hal was pale, but you kept your hand clasped in his as you walked back.

For as uncertain as this time was, no matter what the next day or hour could bring, you had each other and could endure it side by side.