#THIS EXPLAINS THE CROWN SO MUCH

[ryllen]

OMG GUYS??!?!??!??!??!

[prncewilhelm]

craaazy that some of you are so determined he stays within the mould when the entire show is chronicling him breaking out of it 

[wonder-worker]

Margaret of Anjou’s visit to Coventry [in 1456], which was part of her dower and that of her son, Edward of Lancaster, was much more elaborate. It essentially reasserted Lancastrian power. The presence of Henry and the infant Edward was recognised in the pageantry. The ceremonial route between the Bablake gate and the commercial centre was short, skirting the area controlled by the cathedral priory, but it made up for its brevity with no fewer than fourteen pageants. Since Coventry had an established cycle of mystery plays, there were presumably enough local resources and experience to mount an impressive display; but one John Wetherby was summoned from Leicester to compose verses and stage the scenes. As at Margaret’s coronation the iconography was elaborate, though it built upon earlier developments.

Starting at Bablake gate, next to the Trinity Guild church of St. Michael, Bablake, the party was welcomed with a Tree of Jesse, set up on the gate itself, with the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah explaining the symbolism. Outside St. Michael’s church the party was greeted by Edward the Confessor and St. John the Evangelist; and proceeding to Smithford Street, they found on the conduit the four Cardinal Virtues—Righteousness (Justice?), Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. In Cross Cheaping wine flowed freely, as in London, and angels stood on the cross, censing Margaret as she passed. Beyond the cross was pitched a series of pageants, each displaying one of the Nine Worthies, who offered to serve Margaret. Finally, the queen was shown a pageant of her patron saint, Margaret, slaying the dragon [which 'turned out to be strictly an intercessor on the queen's behalf', as Helen Maurer points out].

The meanings here are complex and have been variously interpreted. An initial reading of the programme found a message of messianic kingship: the Jesse tree equating royal genealogy with that of Christ had been used at the welcome for Henry VI on his return from Paris in 1432. A more recent, feminist view is that the symbolism is essentially Marian, and to be associated with Margaret both as queen and mother of the heir rather than Henry himself. The theme is shared sovereignty, with Margaret equal to her husband and son. Ideal kingship was symbolised by the presence of Edward the Confessor, but Margaret was the person to whom the speeches were specifically addressed and she, not Henry, was seen as the saviour of the house of Lancaster. This reading tips the balance too far the other way: the tableau of Edward the Confessor and St. John was a direct reference to the legend of the Ring and the Pilgrim, one of Henry III’s favourite stories, which was illustrated in Westminster Abbey, several of his houses, and in manuscript. It symbolised royal largesse, and its message at Coventry would certainly have encompassed the reigning king. Again, the presence of allegorical figures, first used for Henry, seems to acknowledge his presence. Yet, while the message of the Coventry pageants was directed at contemporary events it emphasised Margaret’s motherhood and duties as queen; and it was expressed as a traditional spiritual journey from the Old Testament, via the incarnation represented by the cross, to the final triumph over evil, with the help of the Virgin, allegory, and the Worthies. The only true thematic innovation was the commentary by the prophets.

[...] The messages of the pageants firmly reminded the royal women of their place as mothers and mediators, honoured but subordinate. Yet, if passive, these young women were not without significance. It is clear from the pageantry of 1392 and 1426 in London and 1456 in Coventry that when a crisis needed to be resolved, the queen (or regent’s wife) was accorded extra recognition. Her duty as mediator—or the good aspect of a misdirected man—suddenly became more than a pious wish. At Coventry, Margaret of Anjou was even presented as the rock upon which the monarchy rested. [However,] a crisis had to be sensed in order to provoke such emphasis [...]."

-Nicola Coldstream, "Roles of Women in Late Medieval Civic Pageantry," "Reassessing the Roles of Women as 'Makers' of Medieval Art and Culture"

[pinacoladamatata]

something something down by the river

yeah i could draw something other than two characters gazing at each other with utter heartsick longing but I know what i'm about son

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

i feel like the incident with the princess and the qing‘s prince regent rui gave the king the opportunity to apologize to mongwoo for failing her back then and to share with her his side of things and why he is shackled to making decisions that go against his true wishes. i feel like mongwoo clocked that. she‘s been unusually quiet these past few episodes, im curious what she‘s gonna do now that the situation got so out of hand. maybe she will let go of her stupid plans, maybe she will decide to give the king a chance and understand the situation better. but she is so blindsided, i dont think this is gonna be enough for her to make a complete turnaround. still, one can hope TvT

[gayofthefae]

In an “I love being queer, queerness is so wholesome” mood and

WILL PAINTED A HEART ON MIKE’S SHIELD. WILL PAINTED. A HEART. ON MIKE’S SHIELD😭💗

[boypussydilf]

the idea that simon just needs to find a way to have magic and be sane is one of the most egregiously thoughtless missing-the-entire-point takes i’ve ever seen. with my disclaimer that i’m not remotely endorsing or seriously suggesting this: i’m surprised no one’s mentioned the fact that we’ve multiple times seen people use the crown’s magic without any of the mental effect. after flame princess destroys most of the ice kingdom, IK gives the crown to gunter to rebuild it, and again in thanks for the crabapples guiseppe, he gives it to abracadaniel and it lets him use ice magic just fine. the crown only has its full effect on one person at a time, and doesn’t seem to bond to a new wearer until the current one is dead… but it’ll give anyone who wears it magic.

In conclusion obviously the solution is for Simon to just take an ice crown that’s already being used (:

[glistering-melon]

What if when Zoeya returns to the Twilight, amidst everythig else, she finds a certain sort of passion in learning about her culture again? She forgot a ton, which might hurt a lot, but she has the resources now to learn so much, and its one of those few places she finds belonging in in The Twilight while finding her footing.

[trickarrows-bishop]

Please be respectful when talking about the Queen. She was a head of state, a monarch, a mother to multiple pedophiles and most importantly a devoted cousin to her husband

anon you have no idea the jokes i made when the queen died. i couldn't have given less of a SHIT that she passed. i was more bothered about the free day i was getting off from school.

[royalreef]

       She really should just make a pamphlet explaining ul’kiha to pass out to her partners, honestly.

[duck-era-lexi]

:)

[inbabylontheywept]

my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.

i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.

point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.

i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.

i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.

i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.

(i think i was...six?)

anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.

(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)

so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?

so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.

the compost pile was full of worms.

she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.

at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.

and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.

but because she loved me.

[dirt-str1der]

Post ending knives should be doing journey to the west with me he could be my wukong and i get to punch him in the head whenever he acts out. He should be my monkey , he should learn empathy by being my bodyguard and needing to protect my annoying ass and he cant let me die or the demons win

[dragonsholygrail]

Monster bfs and their reaction to you getting hurt by little inconsequential things that you react to in pain at first but then they wildly overexaggerate.

Werewolf bf would hear you whimper and come running to find you. He sees you have a splinter and he’s whining and whimpering at the irritated skin on your finger. With his claws he carefully gets it out of you before licking it and nuzzling into your palm. Before you can even argue he’s saying you’re too hurt to do anything else today and brings you into the bed for cuddles.

Vampire bf smells you before he hears you cry out in pain. In a flash he’s by your side, eyes wild as he looks over you. When he sees the small cut on your leg his heart lurches, even when you say it looks worse than it is. He falls to his knees before you, his mind a cloud of worry and hunger. He laps at your cut, slowly licking the wound to reveal it in its entirety. Despite the way his veins hum with the taste of your blood his love for you is more pressing and so he runs to grab your frequently used roll of gauze and patches you up.

Dragon bf has loved having you in his cave and among his hoard. You’re his most treasured possession after all so there is no where else that you belong except by his side. But when you stumble and slide down a mountain of gold, hitting your head on an old crown, your bf cares no longer for any of his treasures besides you. Despite your protests he moves all of his treasure to the back of the cave before filling the rest of it with the fluffiest pillows and the softest blankets. Making sure that if you ever fall again it will only be met with comfort.

Orc bf who always displayed his weapon collection with pride. But he comes rushing over as soon as he hears you yelp, only to discover you ended up pricking yourself on the sharp spikes of one of his clubs. You try to assure him that you’re fine and it just surprised you. But when you come home the next day you see them nowhere to be found. Ready to give your bf a firm talking to, he directs your gaze upwards where he’s displayed his weapons much higher up now to not risk you getting hurt. He stubbornly refuses to move them back down when you talk to him and there’s no way you can reach or even carry them to put them back. Your orc bf explains that it’s worth them being harder to see so long as you’re safe.

God, there are so many more I could do but I didn’t want to make this too long.

[dmitriene]

simon riley with a mommy kink, it's simple, when everything get's too much, suffocating him as if stuck in between tapering walls, and hiding under ghost's identity doesn't help anymore, he turns into a little boy.

back into his young years where he missed his mom, always too alone, having no one to address to, pour all the gnawing throughts and vile things that keep stalking him, instead ending up swallowing it back, curling up into himself, even through it's chokes him.

it was a routine for simon, something he was used to, learned to cope with it despite the breakdowns, the bubbling nausea from himself, the ringing in his head, what he thought he would never change, until there's you.

he doesn't know what exactly happened, how to explain it, all the sharply bubbling feelings, tingling in his fingers, hot flashes all over his body, but these are your touches on his bare, leper skin and soft words of endearment whispered in his ear.

you were all that softness that he wanted for so long, pleaded under his breath with hushed whispers when he was a little boy, wanting nothing but a warm chest to lean into, someone to soothe him, coo at him.

you do it all, calling him your sweet boy, something so silly that makes him melt, turn into a gooey puddle in your soft arms, face pressed into your supple breasts, the need to be cared for and touched carefully turns into something more.

carnal, in the way simon wants to possess you, hear all those praises without end, let your hands explore his naked flesh, all scarred and bulky, sometimes making him remember things he shouldn't.

making him crawl to you like a baby, needing his mommy, which he indeed needs, because only you have the power to shoo everything that haunts him, letting him carve himself into you, his meaty cock sheathing itself into your soft pussy, sucking him in, letting simon burrow his face into your neck.

he turns into something different from himself, huffing and puffing into your sweaty flesh, slurring broken moans of — “pleas', mommy, pleas'„ as you coo in his ear and pat at the crown of his head, letting him lose himself in you.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[chaieyestea]

Oh my gods I get it now. I love symbolism in art and writing so much because I struggle with words