#meg tudor

[prplocks]

✧❁ icons 〴 georgie henley ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

reblog if you save ➳

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[thecrackshipdiaries]

Ben Barnes and Georgie Henley

Requested: Anon

[malkaleh]

Apologies @emilykaldwen but I was thinking about my impressions of how you have talked about Abby and some of my OCs and actually re The Tudors OT3 kids like, she and Meg are very different people (Meg’s relationship to gender, to the fact that Meg is actually a total Believer In Chivalric Martial Knighthood Mythos (because she has the luxury of growing up in a world where that is (mostly) an actual thing for Meg because of her position/the world) and is kind of Blunt. Like Meg is not always the most great at seeing the nuances of morality and also I think she’d punch Aegon (those two would hate each other On Sight). Where as I get the impression Abby has a bit of a different view of knighthood/knights in general?

But! They might also like each other - Meg Will Protect/Attack when they love someone and like, Devotion Of All Time. (Sort of the flipside of the way she sees the world a lot in black and white as a kid). And Meg is genuinely a great dancer and also appreciates beautiful people so like, it’s possible that it’s a :abby dragging Meg away from punching a man who leered at abby because THAT IS MEGS PRECIOUS PRINCESS LEAVE HER ALONE YOU ARE NOT WORTHY: situation.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Writing advice #?: When it comes to characterization, obligation > love.

What I mean by this: love is basically universal. It offers little variability. Almost everyone has a friend, sibling, etc for whom they'd do anything. Allegedly even Hitler loved his apocryphal dog, John Wilkes Booth was a good brother, yadda yadda so forth.

So if you want to have a story that makes us like your character Liv, and establishes interesting tension that will draw out who Liv is as a person... don't write about her rescuing her beloved mother. Write about what happens when someone she dislikes is in danger.

Two great examples I've read recently:

In The Drift by C.J. Tudor, Meg is trapped in a broken-down cable car with five other people and no way to call for help. She risks her life, performing a heroic physical feat that causes herself serious injury - to save a woman who accused her of murder, suggested leaving her to die, and generally treated her like dirt all week. Meg is heroic as hell.

In Dungeon Crawler Carl, the eponymous Carl ends up in the adventure because he ran outside in boxers in -10°F weather to save his ex-girlfriend's obnoxious, misanthropic cat. Carl might be a shlub, but he's a rock solid dude.

I could go on - would Shiloh saving Jeb be nearly as powerful if Jeb wasn't such an asshole? - but the point remains. Meg sacrificing so much to save her partner would be just what's expected. Carl rescuing a cat he chose to adopt is a non-event. Obligation is where the rubber hits the road. Where the ordinary people get sorted from the awesome ones. Where the character-defining moments occur. Over 99.9% of humans ever researched would sacrifice a stranger to save a loved one; a rare form of brain damage that causes people to value strangers and family the same is considered extremely aberrant.

I mention all of this because fan fiction is chock full of examples of characters dying (or killing, or walking through fire, or...) to save their best friends and their sisters and their fiancés. And if you want to write a story about Dean Winchester killing orphans or going to hell or destroying his car to save Sam Winchester, awesome. But there's not a ton of room for characterization in there.

If you want us to learn something about who this person Liv really is, show her forced to choose between rescuing a dog who just bit her and making it to a job interview on time. Let her see her loud neighbor with the bass-boosted music about to get a ticket for an expired meter. Give her a choice between saving 10 strangers or saving her wife. Have her walk by her sexist coworker and realize the guy is quietly sobbing. Literally anything she does next will be interesting, and say a lot about her as a person. If she's just choosing between her wife's life and her own, or her wife's life and the sexist coworker, then the scene might be poignant or sad - but it won't be surprising or tense or revelatory about Liv as a person. The big moments of heroism aren't driven by love, but by obligation.

[ricardian-werewolf]

Take Me to War.

Chapter 1: If not to heaven, then Hand in Hand to hell.

Gwayne Hightower X Original Female Character. (slow burn, Medieval perceptions of marriage and womanhood)

Sunne in Splendour x House of the Dragon.

Word count: 3.48k words.

AN| This is the first time the author has written for Gwayne Hightower, so please be kind! The author also only has a surface level knowledge of House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones, so please be courteous when making comments or suggestions. The Author is a history student with a special interest in the Wars of the Roses and Ricardian sources, so knowledge of that period will be largely correct.

Summary:

Reeling from the battle of Bosworth Field, fifteen year old Cecily-Anne is a princess without her throne, family, or hope. Forced to play her hand with both hands tied; a seemingly mystical intercession forces her into a world that is shockingly similar to the England she knows, yet also drastically different. It is there as a mere lady in waiting, that she is forced to pick a side in a war that has been played over in her England for decades. It remains to see as to whom will come out from this "Dance of Dragons," unscathed and whole.

Tws: Brutal violence, implied sexual violence, sexism of the medieval period, religious mention, brutality.

Taglist: @lordbettany, @rmelster, @portiaadams, @mihrsuri

If you liked it, please reblog and comment! Every kind word keeps more of them coming!

Blood flecked Cecily-Anne’s face, her skirts and hands. She stared down at her palms, running them together as if she wished to clear the mess. Raising her head, she could only stare in wide-eyed horror as Henry Tudor’s sword drove its tip into her father’s chest. The crunch caused her to flinch visibly. No one had bothered to remove her from the camp, to put her into sanctuary. All of the chaos of the battle had left her here. She was supposed to have only observed the preliminary actions and then been swiftly retired to the nearby Grayfriars priory in Leicester. 

But now she stood at the hands of the most likely man next to kill her.

Or wed her. He could wait, for certes. She was only ten-and-five years, not even yet showing signs of womanhood. But to a country teetering blindly towards anarchy, this was the only movement forward to solve so many problems. However, as she shifted uneasily from foot to foot. With her skirts turning soiled with the still-warm blood of her father, Cecily remembered Elizabeth Woodeville’s many daughters. Maybe he would choose one of them, and leave her well enough alone. Maybe clemency would work with this…. Bastard of a prince?

She would refuse to bend her knees and acknowledge him as the god-chosen king. No. The rite of the crown would go to Teddy. Or passing him, Meg. She would need to make arrangements, seek out Johnny and Kathryn. They would need to know of Richard’s death.

Suddenly, a hand clenched around her upper arm and she shrieked, blindly lashing out. 

“My lady, please!” A voice hissed. Female, french sounding. Véronique de Crécy. Cecily looked up into the lady-servant’s face and caught the tears forming on her lashes. “Do not cry out. You have been granted the right of sanctuary with the nearby nunnery. They are doing this out of the mercy of your womanhood, Chérie.”

“Mercy?” Cecily hissed as Véronique dragged her from the battlefield. She could only watch silently with doe-wide eyes as her father’s corpse was stripped to the flesh. Then, it was dumped over the back of a steed. “No-” She began to scream, thrashing in her mother’s servant's arms. Another hand clamped over her lips, silencing her.

“Do not make a sound, Princess. Keep very, very quiet.” Francis Lovell hissed. “It is horrific, yes, but this is what Tudor dictates, and we must bend the knee or be slaughtered.” He effortlessly dragged her through the leagues of white-tented campsites to a waiting horse and litter. Mistress Burgh, who had tended to her since infancy, examined her skirts silently. 

“By the holy mother-” She began, then looked into Cecily-Anne’s whitened face. “Come, lovely. We must be getting you home.” 

“My F-father-” Cecily jerked her head up as she watched the white rose being put to the torch. Suddenly, the fight drained from her and she fell to her knees, the veil of her hennin swimming about her face like gossamer wings. “No, please, No!” She sobbed, wrenching off her hennin and veil with a firm tug. Her hair fell from its pins, spilling about her face.

“What is the meaning of this?” A voice sneered. “I find it most…” Cecily looked up into the face of a man who she would forever remember. Standing over her, clad in plate armour of pure silver with work of ferns and ivy was Thomas Builder, retitled Thomas Melbourne. A minor lord, he had backed her father until the end, and then revealed his hand when Tudor had taken the advantage. His eyes gleamed like emeralds in the watery sunlight shimmering overhead, and he bent down to lift her chin. 

“Unfaithful to your late Father, Princess.” His voice was velvety, meant to be soothing. But it merely made Cecily more vicious, more angered. She whacked his hand aside and bared her teeth. She raised her hand, and formed a fist. Her father’s knights who had served him now formed a Testudo around her. 

“Ah, princess.” Melbourne sneered again. “These men are traitors. They ought not rush to thy defence.”

“They shall.” Cecily rose on unsteadily feet, but squared her shoulders. The moment of grief within her was pushed down deep inside her, and she shut it away. She would not allow herself to show how much she hurt. He would not see how much she longed to lie down in the blood-splattered grass where her father had fallen, and implore God and his saints to take her too.

Please, Holy Mother, protect me from this man’s aims and evils. She prayed silently, her fingers sliding to the crucifix around her neck. Suddenly, she gasped as Melbourne parted the Testudo around her, ignoring the pike-axes grazing his cheeks. His hand snaked up and grasped hers. His eyes blazed with pure hate, and he grabbed the crucifix in hand. It did not burn him, which Cecily hoped it would. She could only sob as Melbourne yanked the chain forward, dragging Cecily along with it. She was pulled from the safety of her knights and thrown roughly to the ground. 

Around her, a cheering and jeering group of Tudors’s soldiers had gathered. At their head was Margaret Beaufort, clad in mourner’s black. Briefly, Cecily was reminded of her mother’s poisoned words against the mother of Tudor. She flashed her teeth again, snatching out a hand to grab something. But her hand was pinned under the black-metal foot of Count Adhemar’s boot.

“There she is.” He crowed as Tudor pushed through his men and raised his visor to regard her. “What a wonderful wife she would make for you, Your grace.”

“You deem him your king?!” Cecily snarled, crying out as Melbourne grabbed her hair and pulled her head back with a sickening crack. Looking up at him from below, Cecily was able to see his lengthened canines, and she shuddered in horror. It seemed as though not only was Tudor ungodly in his mortal affairs, he consorted with demons to win him victories.

She crossed herself, murmuring the lord’s prayer under her breath.

“She should be killed, Henry.” Margaret cried. “If she is not, she is a threat to your legitimacy. Any son she bears and the blood of the Yorks remains stronger than ever.” 

“There is still the matter of those two boys. Tell me-” Tudor turned now to Cecily, and stepped over her so that his legs were on either side of her hips. She looked up at him even though she couldn’t look him in the eye. Her breaths came in heavy, rapid gasps as Tudor grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head.

“Did your father kill the princes, girl?”

“No!” Cecily cried instantly.

The smack of his ringed hand to her face made Cecily cry out again. Around her, even some of Tudor’s knights were making murmurs of discontent. No one struck a princess, or made a movement against her. Yet, Cecily knew easily how vulnerable she was. With no strong woman such as her grandmother to speak in her defence, she was powerless. Véronique’s words were as good as naught.

“Then where did he put them?”

“I have no knowledge of where-” Cecily sobbed again as Tudor rained down another blow. She was saved a third as Margaret’s hand reached out and pulled Henry’s fist back. “Please, no. Do not taint your victory with such sin. God will find it distasteful.” 

Please, Holy Mother, protect me from this man’s aims and evils. 

Tudor glared at his mother and then Cecily. His thumb stroked her thrumming pulse point, and then he spat in her face. “Be glad that my lady mother raised me to be merciful. If I was not, I ought to put you in your place as you deserve, wench.”

Cecily shuddered. 

She watched with widened, fear-filled eyes as Tudor’s men departed with their king at the head. Atop Tudor’s head was the crown of King Edward, the very crown that had been affixed to her father’s helmet. A sob burned through her lungs and she pressed her knuckles to her streaming eyes. Wrapped in the spanish silks she had been gifted as part of her engagement to Joanna of Portugal’s younger cousin, Cecily-Anne Isabel Plantagenet knew that without a doubt that she was a marked woman.

As she was helped into the litter by Véronique, Cecily watched as Tudor’s men took down the White Rose of York. Her breath hitched as the Whyte Boar of Gloucester was unpinned from her father’s command tent. His squires who’d survived the battle were lined up in order of age. She watched with wide eyes devoid of all emotion as a barber surgeon and priest went about taking confession. Then, they were beheaded in front of the spot where her father had taken mass just that morn.

The battle of Redmore Plain had lasted a scant few hours, but the impact would fester for weeks. As the wheels of the litter began to turn and Cecily’s few knights fell into step beside the litter, the princess pressed a hand to her mouth and wept without shame. She clung weakly to her mother’s crucifix and the ring on her finger that had been the coronation ring of her father’s. Tudor would forge another ring, another crown; another state.

All of the work her father had done would be ashes and cinders. The North would not go quietly, which brought her some level of comfort. But their refusal to bend the knee would bite them soon enough. Sin had come over England with the miasma of plague, and it would stay thus until either the Tudors were ousted, murdered or ran out of heirs.

Pressing her hand over her eyes again, Cecily sighed deeply. 

“Write to Manuel and please inform him that the wedding is…” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Annulled. Ensure the Church knows also. I am certain they will be flooded with requests of dispensations for Tudor and whomever he chooses as his lady wife.” She looked to Véronique, who gave a quiet nod of acknowledgement.

“And you, cherie?”

“I believe I shall take a night in that nunnery you inquired for me. In the morn, we shall see where I am going. Whether it be the Tower Greene or the wilds of Bruges, I shall be excited to know.” swirling the cup of wine handed to her, Cecily drank deeply. Grief and shock had made her caustic. She would not wish to be anything other than that. As she drank more, she turned to debating in her mind how she would subvert Tudor’s wills for her execution. 

She should be killed, Henry.

She is a threat to the crown!

Was that same thing not spoken of about her Aunt Elizabeth? The very woman who had seduced her uncle to the bedchamber and made him a father to several children of health and vigour? Had that not been said of her own mother, whose wealth of lands in the north along with Aunt Isabelle set up a bloodless war between her father and mad uncle George? Had the women not birthed two sickly children for both sets of parents? Had fate not delivered her brother to God’s embrace far sooner than expected? Then a scant half-year later her own mother? 

Cecily smacked her hand against the wooden screen, and screamed low in her throat. She was well and truly alone, left to shoulder the burdens of a crown cracking more with each passing hour. The lords of London would throw the gates wide to the invaders, burn Crosby Place and Baynard’s to the ground. She would be bereft of a husband to-be, left to rot in a Court that would not place her in a position of honour. She would have to bend the knee to play favour, but her actions a few hours earlier would drive that thought from Tudor’s mind with the swiftness of a spring breeze.

Compline found Cecily-Anne kneeling before the altar of the Blessed Virgin Mary, her mother’s crucifix chain in her fingers. She had always found solace in prayer, not for the religious aspects, but the simple acts of running her fingers through the beads. The easy recitation of her prayers and catechisms soothed her. She always had a list in her mind of who to implore on behalf of the Father for His favour - the poor, sickly, needy. Her family members who suffered more than most came second. As part of her selfless devotion that some saw as frenetic, while others viewed it as a sign of true humility, Cecily wore a long veil and forgoed a prayer kneeler. Her heavy skirts of velvet and stiffened brocade did well enough. The order of Augustinian Canonesses had taken kindly to the young princess and put her at once into sanctuary. As an order of 1337 nuns confined to the limits of the priory’s property, they were over-delighted to have a guest. After supping in her rooms, Cecily had gone with the younger initiates to pray Compline before retiring. 

As she turned her face upwards to Mary’s figure with her arms spread out in a gesture of welcome and warmth, Cecily prayed to one woman only.

Her lady mother.

“Maman, I implore you. Please, let me know that I am not in vain to ask for you. Let me know that my pain is not all I shall feel. T-there is no way forward for me that I see. You always spoke to anyone who asked that I could solve my way out of any problem the Lord put before me, and now I find myself without.” Tears dripped down her face and she angrily shook her head, slamming her fist into the floor. The nuns who prayed quietly behind her stilled in their prayers at the sound of her fist. 

Cecily shot them a look and made the sign of the cross without breaking eye contact. Her devotion would be unshakable. The chapel at Middleham bore marks of her nails in the soft stone as she had poured out her grief in the days after Ned’s death. Now, she drew her nails once more down the expanse of stone. One scratch for her mother, one for her father, and another for Ned. 

“Please, Maman. I beg of you, do something. I cannot live in an England that is without the security of your light, of Father’s judgement. I can only implore the Lord for why he chooses to test me.” She bowed her head again. “I beg that Father is at peace, for some knowledge that he is safe, that he is happy to be reunited with you and Ned again. Please, do not worry for me. I am as well as I can be.” She wiped a tear from her eyes. Yet, they seemed to not stop, even as she forced herself desperately to not cry in the Lord’s house.

“Child…” The Mother Superior murmured. Cecily jerked her head away. She hated to be touched, to be perceived. She brought her hand up, to quieten the woman. The blood froze in her veins suddenly as the Mother Superior grabbed her hand, and then she heard a harsh voice that was her mother’s hiss; Open your eyes!

Cecily’s eyes flew open, and she recoiled. For where the statue of Mary had stood was now a cut. A cut in the space of the room, that through it showed… another space - a field with trees in the distance. It was unheard of. No miracle such as this had ever been written of in a canonical history or court romance. Cecily’s head jerked up and she looked at the Mother Superior. 

“D-do you see that?”

“Yes.” The Mother breathed, her hands clammy around Cecily’s. Her skin itched painfully and longed to tug her hand free. Yet Cecily stayed in that woman’s grasp as the Mother pulled herself up from a kneeling position. Cecily’s fingers instinctively closed tight around the crucifix chain and she ran it over her lips. 

“Speak to me again, Maman.” She whispered, her lips barely moving.

Go forward. The cut will not hurt you, child.

Cecily shuffled forward, her skirts swishing as she moved. Her skirts, the ones still caked with her father’s blood. The deep blue was stained a runny wine-dark purple and caked in a scent so foul that the other nearby nuns had their noses pinched. In the flickering candlelight, they looked like demons sent from the very brimstone and fires of Hell she feared. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Cecily was half conscious of the fact that her mother never called her “Child.” Yet, the grief of so much loss…. Made her feel the exhaustion within her more sharply.

Crossing the nave before the altar, she stared up at the cut with widened eyes, and reached a hand out to touch it. Instead of the pain of burning or the cold of snow on a winter’s night, she felt merely warmth. Through the ugly gash, she could see waving grasses in a stiff breeze, and squinting, making out the forms of men waiting amongst the trees. Some of them were on horses, and she wondered if they could see her. What a shock they’d get! 

The cut will not hurt you, child. She remembered her mother’s words spoken just moments before, and looked back at the nuns. They had gathered together in a small grouping at the back of the chapel, and amongst them she saw Véronique gripping Francis Lovell’s hand tight in hers. What stilled her suddenly was the expression on Véronique’s face - pure, unadulterated fear. 

Go! Go, and do not look back, child!

Cecily’s head turned to look back at the cut and she stared once more through it, her hand still stretched out in front of her. The crucifix dangling from her hand caught the sunlight filtering through the trees, and she smelled the scent of freshly hay. Distantly, she felt as though she was back at Middleham, playing with Ned and Kathyrn and Johnny. Tears filled her eyes again and she closed them as her mind wandered. 

Yes, child. Step through. You are almost home. Just another step-

Cecily could feel the sunlight on her hands; her face, and she turned her palms upwards towards the light and warmth. Yet, suddenly, the sounds of screams filled the air. Looking down, Cecily’s face turned to horror as she stepped not on freshly cut grass but blood-stained earth. An earth-shattering roar split the air as she looked up to the sight of a dragon armed with a rider opening its maw wide. A column of liquid fire flowed from its gaping jaws and set the forest before it ablaze. The men under it, clad in deep green tunics with a silver tower were swiftly enveloped in the flames and a horrific screaming sound met her ears. Throwing her hands over her ears, Cecily turned back to look for the cut.

She found it gone. 

“MAMAN!” She screamed. “What is the meaning of this?!”

A test, child. You implored for my judgement.

“A TEST?!” Cecily shrieked. 

I am the holy mother, all who worship me are tested in some way or another at some point. This is yours. Take with it what you will.

The warmth she’d felt turned shockingly cold, and Cecily cringed back, fear filling her veins with cold sand. Around her, men screamed, crossed swords and brutally massacred one another. Stumbling blindly, she turned whatever way was quietest, and began to stumble across the battlefield that would later be called Raven’s Rock. As she reached what she hoped was a line of tents consisting of faces who would be willing to listen to her tale, something sharp and long embedded itself in her leg.

The ground tilted dangerously under her, and Cecily’s face smashed into a jagged rock. Atop the rock’s surface she felt soft lichen caress her cheek, and barely had time to fist the crucifix more tightly into her fingers. The next moment, the darkness of injury and exhaustion washed over her with the strength of a tide, and she was dragged into its swell.

Over her head, two soldiers bearing the same uniforms she’d seen earlier discussed what to do with this princess in a tongue she didn’t know. After a few moments more, a knight with ginger hair and emerald green eyes came to survey her chaining up. He took his helmet from a squire and left at once to take up arms against a foe who was merely his sister’s closest friend and the supposed former heir of the Iron Throne. The false Queen Rhaenyra had made war against Alicent Hightower’s chosen son and it was unto this war that Princess Cecily-Anne was dragged unwillingly into. A war that was set to shape a generation and dynasty had merely changed time and space, but the rules were the same - a woman’s place was not upon the battlefield. 

End of Chapter 1.

[austin-friars]

What are your opinions on Wolf Hall Thomas More portrayal?

So, initially, I didn't mind it. However, looking at it again, I don't really know what to think. Believe me, I don't mind the more villainous portrayal of Thomas More. I don't think it's wrong to portray him as a fanatical person, like he was. A lot of Tudor media does tend to sanctify him--i don't say that because he is a saint.

However, some things were off putting. One thing I saw on a reddit thread was that, Thomas More's religious fanaticism was truly, no different from anyone else's at the time. He did burn/torture people, but that isn't something unique to him. I believe tho, him being made a saint, is what upsets people. But acting as if he was the only one burning and torturing people is...meh. And acting like that alone makes him villainous compared to others is not always fair. However, Wolf Hall is through the eyes of Thomas Cromwell, so in both the show and the books, we know they have a complicated relationship of respect, and hatred. I don't really care for their relationship or the way it's written, but it's certainly there.

I think if you like a more sinister portrayal of Thomas More, one that explicitly just highlights his violence as a historical character, that might perhaps sometimes be overlooked, then Wolf Hall is great. Especially if you like Thomas Cromwell, and want to get into more of a headspace on why he saw More as an enemy. More wanted to kill Cromwell in Wolf Hall, that much was pretty evident, so we got to see the fear through Thomas, though Thomas acted like he wasn't.

Now, i absolutely hated the butchering of his relationship with both his wife and his daughter. Yes, his daughter. The relationship being implied as incestous was extremely weird and off putting to me. And his disrespect/hatred for Alice was not historically accurate in the least. The move to have More humiliate and hate her, and speak poorly about her was....UM. If you took that part away from him, then I would've liked him more. Like, also pushing this idea that More was a misogynist was strange when he was literally encouraging Meg to do her thing and write. It seems to me, as if Wolf Hall, tries its very best to erase his good qualities and had some negative context to them.

Now, this is not saying that he is 1000% a good person. I do believe he was known to have abuse his servants, which from the standpoint of him being a religious person, would make sense.

So that's why I can't 100% hate Wolf Hall's portrayal, but it was certainly written through a bias. Historically and in reality, Thomas More is a saint. I am Catholic and went to Catholic school and learned about him in Catholic School and I only recently discovered he was killing people when I got into college. He is most certainly a figure that is propped up through Catholic propaganda.

Now i am not familiar with Thomas More like others, so if you are his fan then please say something or if you have any other opinions i'd like to discuss.

[historicalreusedcostumes]

This green tudor era gown is worn on an ekstra in Elizabeth I (2005) and years later worn on Georgie Henley as Princess Meg Tudor in The Spanish Princess: An Audacious Plan (2019)

[izzy140105]

No ur so real for that because when I found Aurelia's face claim I started doing so much research on Mary Rose Tudor and am now attached to these people who lived like 3000000000000 years ago

I've always been kinda a history girlie - except I'm mainly into tragic women / queens. Like my main girl Anne Boleyn <3

Also - the way Mary Rose Tudor needs to be in more period shows / movies!! They always forget about her or if your "The Tudors" just mix both her and Meg together because it's easier 💀

[anastasiaofrussia]

• ESFJs are highly social and popular, making up 12% of the population. Often found in leadership, they set the tone for others and enjoy being in the spotlight. They ensure the happiness of those around them. At heart, ESFJs are dedicated to their social circles and prefer discussing practical matters over abstract theories. They are altruists who take their responsibilities seriously, basing their actions on traditions and rules.

• Responsive ESFJs will find time to chat and laugh with everyone. ESFJs genuinely love to hear about their friends’ relationships and activities, remembering the smallest details, and they are always ready to discuss everything with support and understanding. If something goes wrong or there is tension in the group, ESFJs take it upon themselves to restore harmony and stability.

• It’s very easy to hurt a ESFJ’s feelings if their ideas are not accepted or are uninteresting to people. The sensitivity of ESFJs is their biggest challenge because people will always disagree and will always criticise, and while this may hurt their feelings, it is a part of life. The best thing ESFJs can do is to focus on what they do best: being role models, taking care of what they can manage, and enjoying the fact that so many people appreciate everything they do.

Strengths: strong practical skills, strong sense of duty, very loyal, sensitive and warm, good at connecting with others.

Weaknesses: worried about their social status, inflexible, vulnerable to criticism, often too needy, too selfless.

ESFJ characters: Katara (Avatar), Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones), Snow White (Disney).

Literature: Charles Bingley (Pride and Prejudice), Meg March (Little women), Diana Barry (Anne with an E), Rosalie Hale (Twilight), Helga Hufflepuff (Harry Potter), Peter Pevensie (The chronicles of Narnia).

ESFJ in history: Maria Feodorovna (Dagmar of Denmark), Mihrimah Sultan, Margaret Tudor, Mary Boleyn, Francis I (Holy Roman Emperor), Sancha of Aragon, Maria Theresa of Spain.

If you repost please give credits.

[prplocks]

✧❁ wallpaper 〴 georgie henley ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

reblog if you save ➳

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[green-like-the-sky]

hello! i hate to seem impatient, but did you receive my ask about your time travel au tomtom headcanons? i'm worried that tumblr might've eaten it. thanks! ^^

BESTIE I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY tumblr didn't eat it i just forgor

ok, tomtom time travel headcanons! this is long and rambling sorry

full disclosure i started tinkering with a time travel au for them right after i read The Mirror and the Light, so back in 2020(!). Since I got back into Wolf Hall recently, I decided to pick it up again. I don't want to give away all the plot points so some spoilers are under the cut!

they come through to modern London just before More's trial (opening scene of the fic posted here!). The Tower is a crossing point in my mind, so much has taken place there and so many lives have been lost that the temporal walls are thin. Other people from their time have crossed through too. Perhaps they meet up with them in the future... (they 100% do)

Cromwell is convinced modern London is not real, he's just hallucinating or having a fever relapse and it takes him a few days to come to terms with the fact that yes, they're really 500 years in the future. The things that have stayed the same (more or less) convince him. The Thames. The trees on Putney Heath. More being insufferable now as he was then.

More actually accepts the time travel pretty quickly but he pretends not to because he knows that will annoy Cromwell.

they are told by their host (spoilers!) not to google themselves, because they can't know their historical fates in case they ever get transported back to 1500s (nobody knows how the time travel works, or if it will happen again)

(the internet, generally, is astounding and More immediately wants to know what became of Erasmus and who the Pope is now)

Later they both confess to googling themselves anyway. Not to know what their own fates were, but what became of Gregory and Meg. Bonding moment!

After they have acclimatised for a couple of days they are let out to explore London on their own. They get lost on the tube. They go to a coffee shop and don't know how to order so end up just ordering what the people in line ahead of them got (iced mocha with whipped cream nearly kills More)

Cromwell wonders what he could have achieved in Henry's court, with internet access.

Cromwell also wonders what he could have achieved in Henry's court, caffeinated.

They contemplate starting a podcast (thankfully they are talked out of this)

Eventually Cromwell realises the insufferableness of More is not actually insufferable. Sudden overwhelming realisation that perhaps the reason he tried so hard to make him take the oath was that back then he was in love with him. More: didn't you know?

They hook up.

The fic ends with them having been in the future for four years and counting. They're both perfectly happy. More is a university lecturer (his knowledge of european reformation literature is astounding, his colleagues think!). Cromwell has been dabbling in law again. They've got a nice place with a little garden, plenty of room for More's animals (Cromwell makes fun but he does have a black cat of his own)...

ANNE is the only other person from their time period who also came through the doorway in the Tower. It happened just before her own execution so she is slightly ahead of them, in Tudor-timeline. She also has been in the future for 20 years, she's thoroughly established, she fits neatly in to modern London, she has a great job, she's divorced with a grown up daughter.

(her grown up daughter is the person who finds the Toms in the Tower, believes who they say they are and takes them back to Anne's flat the first night).

Anne slaps Cromwell when she first meets them in modern times. She ignores More.

Anne is annoyed they are there, but knows how they're feeling and what they need to do to survive in the 2020s. It's also nice to see familiar faces, even if it is them

They end up all going to a karaoke bar and get drunk, and, well, 500 years is a long time to hold a grudge.

The Toms' girldad instincts kick in around Anne's daughter. She's in the first year of her undergrad and More can't resist helping with essays. Cromwell bonds with her over the weirdness of them both being separated from family by half a millenium (she's desperate to know about her 'big' sister, Elizabeth I!)

I have rambled on a lot here sorry but that's a general overview! if you want to know anything else please do ask!!

[malkaleh]

In Crown of Ashes, does Liam have as many kids as he does in OT3 verse? Or does the scandal mean that he treads more carefully?

He kind of treads more carefully because, honestly Trauma. And also in Crown of Ashes verse I think Liam really finds a life purpose far earlier than he does in OT3 verse proper. (It’s protecting his younger siblings).

Because in OT3 verse proper I think (though I’m still figuring out his storylines exact beats) Liam kind of feels like…I’m just here to have fun! I refuse to take any of this seriously due to Why Would I. He feels like his brothers have found their roles (obviously Tommy is The Heir, George is the next in line/intelligence agent (SPY says George, I am a SPY GUY)/intellectual, Owen is the artist/theological scholar, Ned is Happy Youngest Son Wife Guy (Defender) and then there’s Meg, who Liam is so close to but Meg has always known what she wanted to be - A Knight General. They were never in doubt.

And Liam, being the third of five eventual sons figures that there has be one kind who is just here to party in OTL and so…he’s not like anything awful but he is also very much ‘drinking, fucking and partying’ actually there’s a moment where he and his friends might like, trash an inn and his Dad Thomas is Disappointed which kind of shocks him out because OH SHIT I MADE DAD SAD :((((.

But Crown Of Ashes Liam has to really grow up way too young so he doesn’t have the kind of careless hot girl summer the same Party vibes at all.

(And yes he was taught better but he’s also Impulse Control? What Impulse Control and really not thinking about how like, Liam LIAM. SERIOUSLY you cannot actually just blithely sleep your way through the court and party your whole life and Be A 16th Century Rake)

(To be fair I think all of his kids came from (a) widow who murdered her abusive husband and was like ‘I want to fuck a hot rich guy who will spend money on me’ and good for her and (b) lesbian who was like ‘I want kids with my lover and you are actually a decent human being under the Rake (tm) Behaviour and also great in bed’ and (c) eventual wife who he met while having a foursome)

Crown Of Ashes it’s like - Liam and Meg are the oldest of the younger ones who are sent away. Owen is maybe just old enough to be aware but young enough to not understand but Ned and Pippa are genuinely babies and Liam and Meg have to look after them because their older siblings (George, Tommy and Elizabeth) are taken away from them.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Stand-up for your YouTubers... by u/number1crsh

Stand-up for your YouTubers... HG put out a very interesting video this morning. In the nearly 25 minute video he talks about the AFP and the "no, no, that totally wasn't a criticism of Meghan (probably said sarcastically but taken literally)" AND THEN around the 13:55 minute mark (in case you want to watch the video but skip some of the AFP's blah blah blah about it all) he goes on to say that things were twisted by an account on X...drumroll please (for anyone that hasn't seen/doesn't know what is coming)...NancySidleySussex!Yep, the last 10 minutes or so of the video goes over the fact that Misan Harriman has targeted the Sidley twins recently and NOW the AFP is starting to drag them as the ones that started this "misinformation" about Meghan.It's time to stand by our YouTubers. This has been happening from the start; she HATES us talking about her, she REALLY hates the YouTubers that have the nerve to call her out ONLINE, "IN-PERSON"!! How dare any of us talk about her and HOW DARE those people SHOW THEIR FACES while they do it! What Meghan wants, Meghan gets, right? Well, the Queen didn't think so and we as criticisers don't think so either. We need to do what we can to rally around our channels that are undeserving of the "bullying claims" they get, like, subscribe, comment, share, rewatch---I don't know and who knows, maybe we can't do much but honestly, I'm not interested in letting this bitch and her bitchy ass husband take my voice and as I don't have a YouTube channel, I feel like these guys (SidleyTwins, HG Tudor, According to Taz, Murky Meg, Real Housewives Recap, Meghan's Mole, The Royal Grift, ect) are my voice when it comes to this topic.#MeghanwonttakemyvoiceHere is HG's video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MA9dXxB1io4 post link: https://ift.tt/VZOw106 author: number1crsh submitted: May 31, 2024 at 07:13PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[margridarnauds]

Hi,

So I finished the novel Queen's Gambit by Elizabeth Freemantle and am now extremely angry need to decompress and filter out her garbage I'm shocked that Penguin House published this book and that it is getting made into a movie. To portray young Princess Elizabeth as willingly seeking Seymour out and seducing him is vile. Parr's bitchy handmaid Dot finds them in bed together. What on Earth? No evidence for that. Then Catherine Parr gets angry, blames Elizabeth and they don't reconcile after she leaves. Heartbreaking. Plus, the portrayal of Catherine Parr is horrid there is no evidence she or her stepdaughter Meg were raped during the Pilgrimage of Grace, a devout woman like Catherine wouldn't be contemplating killing either of her husbands, or rejoicing in the prospect of being damned to hell as she puts it after Henry VIII dies. (Maybe with Henry she would think about it but not actually go through with it). I got the impression that this author had an anti-Christian as well as anti-Elizabeth attitude. Tried Sisters of Treason another book of hers but it was also bad. I want to send her an angry letter now calling out her disgusting portrayal of young Elizabeth. Did you send in a review or a note to the author after you read it?

Don't forget Dot's final monologue about Why Elizabeth Is Such A Bitch -- It's Almost Understandable That She's Such a Bitch-Slut.

It's common with historical fiction, really, to not understand the way that religion historically worked. It's very easy to put our feelings on religion, whatever they might be, onto historical figures in an attempt to make them More Like Us, but the simple reality is that they were living in a totally different cultural context. Characters are either religious fanatics so extreme that they make Frollo think "Hm, maybe they're overdoing it a tiny bit", they're Secretly Atheists, or religion just doesn't cross their mind ever (unless, in Tudor media, it's to establish them as a Cool Modern Protestant.)

As for what I did...honestly, put the book aside and thought about every single decision in my life that had led to me both reading and finishing it. As you can see by the fact that I still remember it in vivid detail, it holds a special place in my Hall of Shame. (And it isn't even batshit insane enough to be FUNNY, unfortunately.)

But, my piece of totally unsolicited advice that you are perfectly free to discard at your earliest convenience? ...when you do medieval Irish stuff. Or medieval Celtic stuff in general. You will NEVER see your field faithfully or even sensitively portrayed on page. Every single depiction you get will be based on old stereotypes, colonialist tropes, and outdated information. I've read things about my faves, in particular, that would make most people's hair stand up on end. Things that are truly, deeply vile, that are on par with the depiction of Elizabeth here, or even worse. And it is easy to be angry, it's understandable to be angry, and God knows that my friends have heard me ranting in the DMs. And when I was younger, I was, regularly. And then I got exhausted, because anger is exhausting, especially when it's you and your anger versus a tidal wave of misinformation. I didn't stop getting angry, no. But I started to use it as a tool, not as an explosive -- I let it fuel me, I used it for my scholarship, putting all these different pieces of pop culture about my field in conversation with one another and noting common trends, as well as making comparisons to trends in other areas to figure out what, in our contemporary cultural landscape, is causing us, as a general group, at this point in time, to portray these things in a certain way, as well as how we have portrayed them over time. I have built my career, at least in part, on defending the undefendable, on studying the ink blotches of historiography to see where the historical or literary records meet the popular image, specifically looking at figures who are frequently portrayed as villainous and monstrous. I don't deal in happy endings, I can't when I step in after their final death scenes, after the point where even the possibility of their deaths meaning *something* is gone, because they don't even get the satisfaction of being well remembered. I never expect to see my faves well portrayed -- sometimes, I'm surprised, but it is truly, deeply, RARE.

You send a note to an author, no matter how well-intentioned, and it's easy to write off. The author submitted that work for publication, it's done. They're still getting royalties off of them, whatever that means in the current hellacious publishing landscape, in this case, she even has a movie. They might care, but honestly? They probably won't. They can dismiss you as a crazed, unhinged fan, regardless of how much thought and effort you've put into the critique. You've wasted all that high quality, undiluted anger for something that won't have any tangible effect. My advice, instead? Feel your anger, let the hate flow through you, especially when it reflects biases like sexism, racism, and homophobia, sharpen it, and then use it -- it doesn't have to be in conference presentations or journal articles or any of the trappings of academia, but use it.

Write reviews, absolutely, put it into conversations with other pieces of Tudor and Elizabethan fiction, especially about young Elizabeth (Hell, compare it to, say, Elizabeth R, Becoming Elizabeth, Young Bess, or Lady Bess (Toho 2014/2018), just for examples of the young Elizabeth's life off the top of my head that dramatize the life of Elizabeth), see what other people have said, in journal articles, sure, but also in blog articles or GoodReads reviews online, without necessarily even talking to them, but just to get a survey of what they think and why they think it, and see what you can do. Why do we want to portray Elizabeth this way? Is it a desire to "knock her off her throne?" Portray her as a nymphomaniac bitch slut to contrast with the "Gloriana" image? Is it that we're uncomfortable with the topic of CSA? Or we don't like to think of it as something that historically occurred? (Especially when you compare it to the ongoing bimboification of Katherine Howard, even in allegedly sympathetic biographies.) Is it that we still don't want to believe that it could have happened? That we're willing to give more sympathy to a man than to a child? Some combination of all of them? And are we seeing progressively more nuanced portrayals, or are we seeing more of the same across the board? (I feel like Seymour, at least, has gone from being a romantic hero in Young Bess to being portrayed as genuinely manipulative, even if the execution is still lacking.) On the reverse side, are people more willing to defend, say, Elizabeth I and Catherine Howard than other historical women, specifically because of what they represent and because of their high profile status? Is there a double-edged sword here? Let your anger fuel you.

[deeppurpleforest]

Is Mantel really implying an incestuous relationship between More and Meg in Wolf Hall? (I won’t read or watch it any further so I can’t find out myself)

This is something that some Protestants constantly like to do and every time it gives me a headache. Like what do you even mean by that? You can’t cope with the ideas that a Catholic man at that time promoted female education and also favored his most academically accomplished child instead of his only son, so you think it could only come from sexual attraction to his own daughter??? (Or maybe there’s also a layer of western people’s obsession with Freud which I could never understand.)

Also she seems to transplant the “education for women” thing from More household to Cromwell household, which makes me confused. Historians agree that what Meg achieved academically sets a great example for female education. Meanwhile I don’t think there’s any account on Cromwell’s opinions and practice on female education (correct me if I’m wrong). (Although I’m not sure if there’s none More school scenes in Wolf Hall because again I’ve not seen it in its entirety myself)

Also I saw somewhere that in the book she writes about Cromwell being kind to Meg and he gave her More’s head. In reality it’s Meg herself who not only had the great courage to do it, but also with precise planning (for the timing) and diplomacy tactics to get out of trouble during interrogation. I think she understood the contemporary psychology and situations very well, so she used the fact of her being merely a woman to say that she kept her father’s belongings only for her own mourning but actually later in life she made great efforts to preserve his works and legacy, under danger and stress, with the burden of being a mother to multiple children. Her daughter Mary also became an accomplished translator.

So I’m just mildly disappointed with how A Man for All Seasons and The Tudors portray Meg, but it seems there are reasons for me to hate how Wolf Hall portrays her.

[historiavn]

@bitmorerouge sent: idk if youre still accepting but 💕

Send 💕 and I will tell you some muses of ours I think could work as a ship. / ACCEPTING

Augustin André / Meg Giry

Cassandra Fatesworth / Theodosia Burr

Ophelia Chronsturn / Clotho

Ophelia Chronsturn / Mary Tudor