i am the son and heir


“O You Gods, I am Isis, Osiris’s sister, Who wept for the father of the Gods, Osiris, Who put an end to the massacring of the Two Lands. His seed is within my womb. It is as son of the foremost of the Ennead Who will rule this land, become heir to Geb, speak on His father’s behalf, and slay Seth, the adversary of His father Osiris”
(from spell 148 of the Coffin Texts, translation from “The Literature of Ancient Egypt” by W.K.Simpson)

detail from one of the coffins of King TutankhAmon (now in the Cairo Museum):
the Goddess Isis with outstretched wings and kneeling on the hieroglyphic symbol for “gold”

Of Dazai and the Old Boss – An Analysis Report

Wordcount: 1.374.

So ever since I started reading the manga, there was always one character I always wondered about; the Old Boss, or the boss that came before Mori. Sure he seemed like an unimportant side character in the way he’s presented, but I have reasons to believe he’s more than that.

First, let’s compile what we know about him.

1.     He was ruthless even when he’s not bedridden and paranoid, as was said by Kouyou whose lover was killed because she tried to escape the Mafia with him.

And again when Tanizaki tried to kill Mori but was stopped by Kouyou, saying that if Mori died, the Mafia would return to its ‘wretched ways’. We can say with complete confidence that Mori’s way is so much ‘kinder’ than the old boss.

2.       He was bedridden with illness that also made him paranoid of attacks. This is not the case before the illness strike because Hirotsu mentioned he become like that after the illness. If Mori hadn’t stopped him by slicing his throat, he would have burnt Yokohama down.

4.       Wait that’s it? Yep. All we knew about him was in that episode and that chapter. But what we know about him was profound.

First let’s look at this scene:

Notice how Hirotsu mentioned Dazai specifically? Here’s the original panel for that scene:

In this, we can confidently say that Hirotsu singled out Dazai about how was the one who should’ve been most not alright with the development. The words used for it ‘Dazai –kun mo rikai suru tokoro de attarou‘  implies this. It hints that Dazai should’ve been resentful to Mori because he killed the Old Boss. But against all odds, he understood why Mori did what he did.

Then there’s this scene.

It really bothered me and when I looked deeper this is what cemented my conclusion of Dazai and the Old Boss’ connection. So as we could see in this scene, Mori killed the Old Boss and had Dazai become the sole witness. Now this premise has many problems.

1. Other than Mori, who was a doctor so obviously he was to take care of the sick, notice that Dazai was the only one in the room. Now this is strange. He was the only one who was by the Old Boss’ side, all alone in the room with the vulnerable, sick man when there’s no doctor to hover on the bedside. This in and of itself is a proof of their bond. If they weren’t well-known to have it, then all the Mafia would be suspicious to the fact that he’s accompanying the boss when he’s the most vulnerable.

On top of that he was entrusted with the Boss’ security as he was in the room with Mori who might or might not harm him (spoiler, he harmed the boss.) so he was supposed to be the one to care the most about the Old Boss’ wellbeing.

2.       As we know from the light novel, Odasaku mentioned that Dazai was considered to become an Executive at 16. In this scene he was only 14 and at that point of time, he had enough sway in the Organization that he can be the sole witness to the boss’ will and everyone just—nods and go along with it, making Mori the new boss despite them should be having Five Executive that would have fought for the seat. Why?

3.       In this case, Dazai cannot be adopted and raised by Mori as the fandom believed. If he was Mori’s and he became the sole witness everyone would call bull on it because he’d be perceived as Mori’s accomplice in taking out the Old Boss. They’d be executed and one of the upper echelon would take the throne themselves.

This would only work if the Port Mafia to believe that he couldn’t harm the boss and wouldn’t let harm come to him.

But what about this picture, you ask? Well, Mori did have a connection with Dazai too seing how Dazai got the coat he wore from before he was 14 to 18 from him. That’s a good 4 years wearing the same thing. I think this was actually the same case with Chuuya not appearing in the Dark Era; the plot has yet to be told to the readers and kept secret.

And then there’s the possibility that they knew each other because of Dazai’s wounds. If the Old Boss is as ruthless as Kouyou made him out to be, it won’t be far-fetched to say he’s the one resposible for Dazai’s numerous injuries and was frequently sent to Mori, the doctor, to get treatment.

Summary:  the Organization needs to know Dazai well and for some reason connect him with not only being close enough to the Old Boss for it not be strange for him to be all alone in the room with him and having enough credibility that he can’t possibly lie about the Old Boss’ last will. On top of that, he needs some reason to be the one ‘most not alright with it’ in a personal sense.

So what would make this credible? What could make this work? It would be if by doing so he was giving up his rights to the throne.

Here cometh my conclusion: Dazai was the Old Boss’ son and the rightful heir to the Port Mafia. If he was one, it won’t be strange for him to have credibility as 14-year old kid claiming to be the sole witness to a boss of The Mafia’s biggest bad that made a city doctor its next Boss.  More than that, it would be natural for him to spend time alone in the Boss’ bedside when he was sick and vulnerable.

No, I won’t be dropping Darth Vader’s ‘I am your father’ bomb here, despite it being extremely tempting. How many father and child bound by blood have you seen in BSD? That’s right, none. No reason to break the pattern now.

But what is prevalent? Adopting orphans. Hell, it was dropped by Odasaku in his last moment as one of Dazai’s driving force. In fact, most of the main cast are either adopted orphans or have adopted an orphan. (Fukuzawa & Ranpo, Kunikida & Rokuzo, Akutagawa/Atsushi and Dazai, need I go on?)

Here’s my verdict: Dazai was the heir to the Port Mafia because he was the Old Boss’ adopted. When the Old Boss died, everyone in the Mafia who knew about it, thought that he couldn’t possibly lie because by doing so he’d be defacing the Old Boss and giving away his rights to the throne. This gave him the ultimate credibility and thus allowing Mori to become the next King.

Most of all, this also solve the mystery of Mori’s behavior. Why drive Dazai away when he’s 18, when Mori could’ve killed him or make him go away before? He made the preparation to drive Dazai away two years beforehand when Dazai was 16, a good two years after becoming boss. The answer was because this will reveal his play to his subordinate. In the light novel Odasaku mentioned about Mori’s fearsome reputation for being ruthless and clever as hell. And this is the key; reputation.

If Mori killed Dazai before he got a secure standing in the Mafia, he would be accused to be killing the Old Boss and taking down his heir. Everyone would be on the scent of blood like sharks, especially in a place as cruel as the Mafia. So he got himself a reputation, backed by people loyal to him (Chuuya, Kouyou and, in an extent, Ace who was loyal only to money) and when he was sure that he has shown what he could and would do to the whole Mafia and the world, he cut off Dazai because he was no longer needed and now poses only threat.

By exiling the Prince, he would be able to hog the throne for himself since the older members would not be rallying behind Dazai to retake his rights. Truly a long-running plan befitting of him.

But hey, that’s just a theory. A BSD theory. Aaaand cut.

Tsar Nicholas II, Emperor and Autocrat of All the Russias (1868 - 1918)

“What am I going to do? What is going to happen to me, to you, to Alix, to Mother, to all Russia?“

Nikolai Aleksandrovich Romanov was born on May 6, 1868, in the Alexander Palace in Tsarskoye Selo, south of St. Petersburg. He was the eldest son of his parents, Alexander Alexandrovich, the heir to the Russian throne, and Princess Dagmar of Denmark. Nicolas’s grandfather was the Tsar, Alexander II, known as the Liberator for emancipating Russia’s serfs in 1863. Their family, the Romanov dynasty, had ruled Russia for three hundred years. Nicholas would be the last emperor.

Unlike his soft-hearted, liberal grandfather, Nicholas’s father was a reactionary, whose conservative and religious values strongly influenced Nicholas’s beliefs. In 1891, Nicholas’s father acceded to the throne when Alexander II was murdered by an anarchist revolutionary. This murder convinced both Alexander III, and his son, against offering further reforms. Yet Nicholas’s education did not prepare him at all for his future role as Russian emperor.

Although he had a close relationship with his mother, Nicholas’s father believed his son to be silly and weak. Tsar Alexander III was a very strong ruler and saw no need to share a job with his uninterested heir. He refused to let him participate in any affairs of state; once, when Nicholas was twenty-five, a minister suggested that he be allowed to head a committee to supervise the completion of the Trans-Siberian Railway. Alexander III was incredulous. “Have you ever tried to discuss anything of consequence with him?” asked the Tsar about his son and heir. “He is still absolutely a child; he has only infantile judgements. How would he be able to become president of a committee?”

The Romanov family in 1893. From left to right: Tsarevich Nicholas, Grand Duke George, Empress Maria Feodorovna (Princess Dagmar of Denmark), Grand Duchess Olga, Grand Duchess Xenia, Grand Duke Michael, Tsar Alexander III seated.

In neither his education nor his temperament did Nicholas show much aptitude to be emperor. He enjoyed foreign languages and history, but struggled with economics and politics. In general he preferred sport to books, when older he delighted in the military and served for a year when he was nine-teen. In 1894 he married Princess Alexandra of Hesse-Darmstadt, a German noble, with whom he had four daughters and a son, Alexei. Alexandra was an assertive woman whose personality dominated the weaker Nicholas, and she strongly reinforced his belief in autocratic rule and his resistance to democratic reforms. In contrast to his political life, Nicholas’s home life was serene. He was a wonderful family man, a devout Orthodox Christian, and devoted to his wife and children.

The same year that he married, Nicholas became the Tsar when his father died of kidney disease. The newly-crowned emperor had not expected to be thrust into the role so soon, and he panicked about running the vast Russian empire all by himself. It was the moment, he wrote, that he “had dreaded all his life.” He confessed his fears to a cousin: “Sandro, what am I going to do? What is going to happen to me, to you, to Alix, to Mother, to all Russia? I am not prepared to be Tsar. I never wanted to become one. I know nothing of the business of ruling. I have no idea of even how to talk to ministers.”

Nicholas determined to uphold the status quo as Tsar, but unfortunately evens abroad and at home forced his hand. Hoping not to be left out of the imperial scramble, Russia grew its industry in the Far East, and forced concessions from China in Manchuria. Yet Russian’s expansion provoked the Japanese, who attacked Russia’s eastern border in 1904, beginning the Russo-Japanese War. Europeans were convinced that the white Russians would easily triumph over the “yellow” Japanese, but the Japanese embarked on a series of victories ending in the total destruction of the Russian fleet at the Battle of Tshushima in 1905.

Nicholas and Alix’s engagement photo, 1894.

The defeat was a stunning humiliation for Russian prestige. At home it sparked outrage and crisis that turned to strikes and riots. In January 1905, Russian troops opened fire on demonstrators in front of the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, killing many. Outrage turned to outright revolution, and eventually the Tsar was forced to grant concessions in a constitution, as well as establish an elected parliament, the Duma.

Despite some elements of democratic reform, Nicholas tightened his autocratic rule. Secret police crushed revolutionary elements in the cities, and voting laws prevented the election of radicals. A travel guide for foreigners published in 1914 warned against taking photos in rail stations - offenders would be arrested.

The Tsar’s most pressing crisis, however, was at home. His son and heir, the Tsarevich Alexei, had hemophilia, the scourge of interbred European royal families. Nicholas and Alexandra despaired for their child and sought any means to help him. They turned to an unlikely source, a disheveled mysticfrom Siberia named Grigori Rasputin. Rasputin’s monasticism belied his true character, that of a debauched womanizer and con-man. Russian noble society despised him, but Alexandra especially confided in him, and Rasputin strengthened her belief in Nicholas’s divine right to rule. His influence steadily eroded the trust Russian people felt for their Tsar.

Nicholas (left) with his cousin King George V of England. They are wearing German military uniforms while on a visit to Berlin. Despite their likeness, George refused to help Nicholas or offer him asylum during the Russian Revolution, fearing that he might be toppled as well.

Nicholas’s failing popularity received a boost in 1914, when Russia went to war against Germany and Austria. Although Nicholas was close to his cousin, the Kaiser (they wrote to each other as “Nicky” and “Willy”), Russians enlisted en masse and displayed loyalty and love for their royal family. Yet endless failures at the front burst newfound support for the Tsar, especially when Nicholas took over from his cousin as supreme commander in 1915, a position in which he demonstrated no talent. The unending string of military disaster was now firmly pinned on him. Worse, economic deprivations at home soon turned into crisis. Russia was deeply in debt and many were starving. Approval of the royal family soured; they were thought to be living in luxury while ordinary Russians died at the front or starved at home.

In March 1917 (February of the old Russian calendar), demonstrations in St. Petersburg (now Petrograd) again turned to revolution. This time, Nicholas had no army to turn to - the military was in a state of collapse, with many soldiers deserting to go back home and take part in the revolution. Helpless, Nicholas abdicated on March 15, 1917. He hoped to go to England for asylum, but the British government (fearing he might provoke the British left) refused his request. Five hundred years of Russian Tsardom ended with NIcholas.

A shaky liberal-socialist Provisional Government was set up to replace the monarchy, but the war continued to go badly. Nicholas went into house arrest in the Urals with his family. His situation worsened in the fall of 1917, when a radical communist party, the Bolsheviks, ousted the Provisional Government. Civil war began in Russia between the Bolshevik “Reds” and the “Whites”, a complex mix of warlords and political parties who opposed the Bolsheviks.

The Russian royals played no role in the Civil War, but the Bolsheviks feared that the Tsar and his family could become a symbol for the White armies to rally around. Nicholas, Alexandra, and their children were transported to a house in Yekaterinburg for safe-keeping, but in the summer of 1918 the war was going poorly for the Reds and the Czech Legion, a unit of the White army, was rapidly advancing towards Yekaterinburg.

Nicholas in captivity at Tsarskoye Selo. This is one of the last photos taken in his life.

On the night of July 16-17, as the Czechs neared, Bolshevik leader Vladimir Lenin ordered the execution of the royal family. What actually happened is still shrouded in some state secrecy, but what is known is that a truckload of local Bolsheviks and foreign soldiers entered the house and ordered the ex-Tsar and his family to the basement. The Empress asked for chairs for her and thirteen-year-old Alexei to sit upon. The Red commander brought in two chairs, and then informed the stunned Tsar that he had been condemned to death. “What? What?” asked the Tsar. The executioners brought out revolvers and began shooting the family. The four daughters, between twenty-two and seven-teen years old, had been hiding some of their jewels in their clothes which deflected the bullets. The Bolshevik shooters stabbed them with bayonets and shot them in their heads, and stabbed to death their maid, who had shielded herself with a pillow full of jewels.

The executioners burnt, dismembered, and buried the bodies. In 1976 a team of investigators found their grave, but did not release the information until the collapse of the Soviet Union. Rumors had long abounded that one of the daughters, seven-teen year-old Anastasia, had survived and escaped the massacre, which were put to rest. In 2000 the Russian Orthodox Church canonized the family as saints; today the place where they were buried is the site of a church.

@cinnamonpansies I’m back from camp and can finally get to prompts again, beginning with yours!

Lance struggled at the metal handcuffs around his wrists, but his efforts were futile. Shouts echoed in his ears from the comms, but his captors couldn’t know he had a line of communication, so Lance could only stare down the endless hallways as the Galran soldiers led him to Shiro knows where. Finally, they paused in front of intricate violet doors, and one of the soldiers placed his hand on an eerily glowing scanner.

The massive doors slid apart to reveal an ornate armory lined wall to wall with weaponry. Keith would have a field day here, Lance noted fondly. They reached a throne seating an ominous figure at the back of the room, and a sharp jerk sent Lance to his knees.

“Today was not your day, was it, blue paladin?” The figure leaned forward and smoothly lifted Lance’s chin. “Or may I call you Lance?”

Keep reading

How Soon Is Now?
How Soon Is Now?

I am the son and the heir,
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar.
I am the son and heir,
Of nothing in particular.

You shut your mouth!
How can you say I go about things the wrong way?
I am a human and I need to be loved,
Just like everybody else does.

I am the son and the heir,
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar.
I am the son and heir,
Of nothing in particular.

You shut your mouth!
How can you say I go about things the wrong way?
I am a human and I need to be loved,
Just like everybody else does.

There’s a club, if you’d like to go,
You could meet somebody who really loves you.
So you go, and you stand on your own and,
You leave on your own and you go home,
And you cry and you want to die.

When you say it’s gonna happen “now”, When exactly do you mean?
See I’ve already waited too long and all my hope is gone.

You shut your mouth!
How can you say I go about things the wrong way?
I am human and I need to be loved,
Just like everybody else does.


Originally posted by ethereal-baek

Sehun, prince!AU

Chapters: (1) / (2) / … // masterlist

Summary: Looks can be deceiving. Oh Sehun is far from being a prince charming.

Born as the first child of the last King of Yangdon, you’d expect me to be living the life. As a princess I was showered with dresses made of the finest materials and by the best hands. I never had had to worry about food - or had financial issues. Tiaras and diamonds were as common for me as candy is for commoners.

At first glance, that might sound like a dream - but I can tell you that all things materialistic things don’t outweigh having freedom and being able to love. 

That is the price people with blue blood have to pay.

I will be marrying someone for my country - not for myself. I have no say in anything regarding my love life.

As the firstborn of the King, I am the rightful heir to the throne. However there is one catch, I must wed to become a Queen. Until then, my mother will be in charge as my highest confidant.

Before my father passed away he made a promise to one of his childhood best friends that he would wed me to his friend’s son - if necessary. It seems like he already foresaw his early death and made this promise in order to help me. Apparently my father was fond of his son - Oh Sehun. Who by description should be my age.

Now that I am in a car to meet him for the first time.

When I finally arrive at the court of my soon-to-be husband, I feel myself growing more and more nervous. What if he doesn’t like me? What if he’s a bad man who won’t treat me right?

I step out of the car and look around. The castle was breathtaking. Trees of bright colors surrounded it like armies defending their citadel. A fountain was just in of the castle serving as a roundabout. But the castle itself was just exquisite. Judging by its style it was most likely built with the French King Louis XIIV in mind, because it looks like chateau de Versailles but just smaller - a lot smaller.

My mom and I make our way towards the entrance and from a distance I can see the King and Queen Oh of Hondo waiting to welcome us. Staff on the side bow to us politely and my mother and I smile back.

Behind the King and Queen I see a young handsome face that must belong to Oh Sehun.. the prince I will be marrying..

“Welcome!” The King greets us. “We are delighted to have you here.” He looks very calm and collected. A King who is amiable.

The Queen takes my hand but quickly decides to hug me too. “Welcome, darling. We have been waiting for you.” She too - looks like a person I can be comfortable with.

Next the young man steps forward and gives me a hand and a bright smile. I feel time slowing down for a second and I swallow. He is incredibly handsome. He has those wide innocent angelic eyes and cherry red lips. He might even be prettier than I am.

“Nice to meet you, princess. We have been expecting you.” He gives me a wink and I’m immediately melting. His voice is calm and sweet like a lullaby.

“Nice to meet you too, prince Sehun.” I smile back.

The atmosphere suddenly changes completely and I can see the face of the man in front of me fall. I can hear an awkward cough from behind me and suddenly looks are being exchanged - except with me.

“Ehh..” Sehun scratches the back of his head in awkwardness. Did I say something wrong?

My face turns red and when the Queens decides to help me out my face turns red and my stomach drops. “My dear, that is not Sehun. This is Luhan.. his brother.”

I wish the earth would swallow me up. I hear staff snickering in amusement. I feel so stupid for not even recognizing the man I’m going to marry. Instead I mistakenly think his brother is my fiancé.

But if this isn’t my soon-to-be husband then where on earth is he?

As if on queue I hear the sound of a vehicle on gravel. I turn around to see a white golf cart racing its way into the crowd. A few people move away in order not to get hit.

What the heck?!

The speeder stops right in the middle of the crowd and a tall male steps out of the cart in silk pajamas. I stare at him incredulously..

You’ve got to be kidding me..

Don’t tell me..

I’m not only shocked and infuriated for almost being hit by a freaking golf cart. I’m livid because I have a great feeling this is my fiancé and as a cherry on top he is accompanied by two barely clothed women on his side.

If this is my fiancé, then he treating me as a joke already.

I shouldn’t be taking this.

Not as the next Queen of my country.

Please let this not be Oh Sehun. Please let this not be Oh Sehun. I chant in my head.

Yet my worst fear comes true.

“Oh Sehun,” he introduces himself and extends a hand. When I don’t shake it he takes it back with a shrug and circles his arms around those two.. I don’t even have words for them.

The look on Queen Oh’s face is apologetic. She knows her son is being disrespectful towards me.

I am being treated as a complete joke.

I seriously can’t believe he doesn’t have the decency to welcome me like the rest of his family - in normal clothes. Instead he shows up by nearly killing people and two.. women on his arm.

Shoot me.

Right now.

“I take that this is my wife?” Sehun steps towards me and just stares. His face is stoic and every inch of him tells me he doesn’t like me. His posture is defensive and hostile.

Five minutes ago I felt welcomed and actually quite warmly received but all of that is now in the trashcan.

My face turns to my mom in help, and even she is utterly shocked by this show. Every part of her is holding itself back to not take me away but my country needs this marriage to go through and we all know that.

I wish my dad could see me now. Surely he would put a spot to this marriage.

This is not the kind of person I want on my side leading my country.

The King is twitching in anger too and decides to divert the attention from his son’s stupidity. “Let’s get everyone inside.” He smiles but I can sense his frustration. “Max!” He yells for one of his staff and a man in black suit with headset and all comes to the front.

“On it majesty.” He immediately knows what the King wants.

While I’m being ushered inside I turn around for a second and see Max preventing Sehun’s ladies from entering the castle with us.

“I’ll talk to you later about this stunt.” The King points into Sehun’s face and when he turns around Sehun rolls his eyes.

On Sehun’s side there is another man in suit making sure he follows the group.

I try to distance myself from my fiancé. This is going to be a wild marriage. On my right I feel a light tug on my sleeve. “I apologize for my brother.” It’s Luhan and he looks troubled. “He just has a hard time accepting an arranged marriage. He’s trying to protest against it. It’s nothing personal. I promise he isn’t like this.”

I smile back and nod. Yet Sehun’s actions still don’t sit well with me after those words.

This is the person I’m going to marry..?

I don’t feel well.

All of us are seated in the living room and I was right. The castle is beautifully rococo styled. Staff brings us tea and some delights to munch on.

While my mom and the Queen are chatting like women do and the King and Crown Prince try to make small talks with me, I can feel Sehun’s eyes on me. He has his arms and legs folded and his lips are pulled into a thin line.

He is staring at me.

I turn to him. Maybe he’ll tear his gaze away from me if I look back.

But he doesn’t.

We meet eyes and instead of looking away he just keeps a straight face while staring. All of a sudden he shakes his head laughing and  shoots me a dirty smirk. I shift uncomfortably.

He slowly opens his mouth. Not to say anything but just to mouth four little words for only me to see.

‘I… don’t…. like… you.’

a/n: yayyy asshole prince sehun! tell me what you think! i also didnt proofread this ;-; sorryyy

Cold Hearted (Prince AU) Part 7

Originally posted by sugaglos

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Summary: War is boiling in the Fire Kingdom as the days until the wedding draw near.

Author’s Note: X is a link to music or a clip which matches with the scene.

Word Count: 6697

Warnings: Blood (In later parts), Smut (in later parts)

     “What the hell happened out there, Erlich? You were meant to destroy half of their supplies and their men with that attack and all you did was kill a few horses and some low-ranking soldiers!” spat King Ruiji. The Court of the Fire Kingdom was in session, every week they met, mostly to go over plans and see how the situation looked in the various provinces of the Fire Kingdom.

Keep reading


middle-earth meme: three heroes [3/3] → aragorn ii

“Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Andúril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. ‘Elendil!’ he cried. ‘I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil’s son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!”  

anonymous asked:

Jonerys is canon, cry me a river ;)

*claps hands together* I’ve been waiting for this, thank you anon.

If I can just quote some things?

“King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.” - Ser Barristan Selmy.

“The ‘dragon spawn’ were famous for losing their minds. It was the price they paid for centuries of keeping the bloodlines pure, and Aerys more than happily continued the ‘noble’ sister-fucking tradition of his forefathers.” - King Robert Baratheon.

“I am the Dragon’s Daughter, and I swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming.” - Daenerys Targaryen

There is a fairly long list of mad Targaryens- Maegor the Cruel, Baelor the Blessed, Prince Rhaegel, Prince Aerion, Aerys II, Viserys.

Now we know from this episode that Jon Snow is Rhaegar Targaryen’s trueborn son with Lyanna Stark. Daenerys, by contrast, is the daughter of Aerys and Rhaella, brother and sister… so it stands to reason that she is closer to madness, if indeed she becomes mad at all. Perhaps she won’t. Maybe she’ll just stay needlessly cruel instead.

Where am I going with this?

Daenerys Targaryen has spent her entire life trying to reclaim what she believed to be her birthright. Indeed, in 7x01 she says:

“Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen.”

I’d like to repeat: Jon is the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Daenerys now has no claim at all. She may love Jon, she may respect him, she may wish she could have children with him for all we know- but he stands firmly in the way of the Iron Throne. Do you think she will step aside so her nephew can rule? No. She’s been through too much for that. She will not give that up.

So, where does that leave her relationship with Jon? It turns into one massive conflict.

The Dance of the Dragons was a bloody Targaryen Civil War that began over the line of succession, between Rhaenyra Targaryen and her half brother Aegon II. Perhaps A Song of Ice and Fire is another name for another future conflict between Daenerys and Jon? Who knows? It has the potential to happen.

Now, Jon does not want the throne. He doesn’t care about ruling the Seven Kingdoms, he doesn’t even care about ruling the North, as we saw in 7x02:

“You all crowned me your king. I never wanted it. I never asked for it. But I accepted it because the North is my home. It’s part of me, and I will never stop fighting for it, no matter the odds.”

Even so, Daenerys will recognise his existence as a threat to her rule as long as he lives. What if one day he decides that he would like to rule? What if, because the people love him and fear her, he wins a war against her? I imagine that’s her train of thought.

Jon and Daenerys cannot and will not end happily. Incest brought the Targaryens their madness, there will not be a return of House Targaryen. Jon will always choose the North. He will honour his mother and choose the Starks, they are his family.

So, Jon and Daenerys had sex. Their road ahead is not a happy one. I will leave you with this:

“I’d bend the knee, but-” (Jon Snow to Daenerys, 7x06)

Originally posted by tiny-little-bird

Heirs (Thor X Pregnant!Wife!Reader)

Characters: Thor X Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers, Thor

Warnings: None

Request: Could you please do a Thor fic where the Asgardianreader, they had an arranged marriage, but after a year of being married, they fell in love. Odin’s in Odinsleep so Thor’s king and Y/N’s queen, and she’s pregnant with their first child? Could it be like her telling him she’s pregnant his reaction, and then skip to the birth, where she has twins, a boy, Aleksandr, and a girl, Ingrid. 

Originally posted by werevampiwolf

Being of royal blood, it was inevitable that you were to marry. You had actually been engaged since you were old enough to read, but you only met your fiancé when you were a while older, old enough to understand that one day, you would be marrying him. When you did meet your fiancé, you came face to face with a dashing young boy with blonde locks and blue eyes- a face you knew as the future king, Thor Odinson.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

so... any more like that king james post?

Son, it’s time you learnt about… King Edward II of England.

Boring disclaimer: there is no explicit evidence of the true nature of Edward’s relationship with Piers Gaveston or Hugh Despenser. There are no love letters or saucy satirical poetry, a la King James I. There are no sex tapes. All we have is conjecture and circumstantial evidence (and some sources, but not many). It should also be noted that we can’t say with any certainty that Edward II was what we (although not him, as the terms and frameworks are modern) would term ‘homosexual’, ‘bisexual’ or ‘heterosexual’. Relationships between men were often incredibly close, bordering on romantic, with no clear definition between platonic and romantic. It was only really unusual when there was a sexual component involved, and the lack of evidence of this component means that it would be impossible to ascribe a definitive homosexual identity to the two men. However, the lack of evidence does not necessarily mean a lack of veracity, and it’s not impossible that the two were sexually involved. It’s just important to remember that modern labels don’t always fit past figures, because history and all.

Our merry historical jaunt begins with the saucy tale of

Piers Gaveston: in which the dangers of ignoring your barons and giving all your land, treasure and undivided attention to one man becomes apparent

  • So, this begins with King Edward I, who was the king of England from 1272-1307. He was also nicknamed ‘Longshanks’ because of his long legs, which is completely irrelevant, but interesting. In 1300, a saucy 16 year old (or thereabouts) named Piers Gaveston joined the household of Edward I, at the behest of Edward I, who thought he was a pretty decent chap and definitely not about to lead his son astray or anything like that. Fairly soon after that, Edward I became the human embodiment of that ‘I have made a terrible mistake’ gif that everyone used to post back in 2013, because Prince Edward and Gaveston became absolutely inseparable. Prince Edward kept demanding more and more titles for Gaveston and his family, giving him fancy gifts of treasure and land and probably those really expensive watches, and at one point the king became concerned that Gaveston might actually be a bit of a problem when it came to his son producing heirs, and Gaveston was banished from court and exiled, albeit with an allowance. 
  • Edward I died in 1307. His dying wish was that Gaveston should never be allowed back into the country, to which Prince Edward said ‘yes, dad, I will absolutely adhere to your last wish, because I am your respectful son and heir. Oh, you’re dead? I’m Edward II now? Cool! Time to fetch Gaveston and give him loads of land! What a guy.’
  • Edward II was crowned in 1308, and subsequently married Isabella of France, who was two things: an absolute badass, and also a 12 year old girl. That was fine in those days, so everyone just went along with it and assumed that Edward and Isabella would be happy together forever. They were not entirely correct.
  • Within a month of Edward I’s death, Edward II had made Gaveston the Earl of Cornwall, and was a bit naughty about it. By some accounts, Gaveston hadn’t known that this was his plan, and Edward claimed that he had asked his barons for advice, but that was a load of old wank, because the barons hated Gaveston and would probably rather construct a wall made of actual corn and slap a title on that. In 1308, in a pattern which should not have surprised anyone at this point, Edward’s courtiers began to worry about the extent of Gaveston’s influence on the king, with some describing him as being ‘like a second king’. By some accounts, the two were never apart, even sharing a bed on some occasions, and many noblemen began to worry that Gaveston was influencing royal policy, which, now that I think about it, might have been a euphemism. They forced Edward to exile Gaveston again in 1308 upon threat of excommunication, which he did, but Gaveston was allowed to serve in Ireland in a military capacity, as Lieutenant of Ireland (which Gaveston was weirdly great at. Legitimately.) Edward also gave him and his wife a lot of money. Like, a lot. So that’s nice.
  • In 1309, Edward began attempting to compromise with the barons who had ordered Gaveston’s exile. He promised them more land and power, and to stop his really annoying habit of refusing to meet any of them unless Gaveston was also in the room, if they would overturn the exile. They refused, probably accurately assuming that things would be just as bad as before. In response, Edward began to royally suck up to the powers that be, giving land and titles to members of the Pope’s family until he received a papal annulment of the threat of Gaveston’s exile and agreed to sign a statute relieving some of the earls’ problems, and Gaveston returned.
  • Things improved a lot after that, by which I mean that Gaveston began to give all the earls horrible nicknames and Edward II gave him his own personal armed guard, as well as access to the treasury. Fed up beyond belief at this point, the barons drew up a series of reforms known as the Ordinances of 1311, and forced the king to sign them, saying that civil war would ensue if he didn’t. As well as limitations on Edward’s power as king, these reforms included articles about punishment owed to Gaveston for his offences. By some accounts, Edward promised to agree to all articles diminishing his own power if the barons would allow Gaveston to remain as Earl of Cornwall, to which the barons laughed heartily and exiled Gaveston for a third time, with the promise of death if he were to return. 
  • In 1312, the King demanded that Gaveston return ‘by the king’s order’, ostensibly to visit his pregnant wife but probably just to piss the barons off. Some people suggest that Edward got so desperate at this point that he even offered to recognise Robert the Bruce, the man who had spent his entire life at war with England, as the king of Scotland if he would acknowledge Gaveston as having a right to live in England, but that might be nothing more than a story. Whatever happened, the barons were indeed pissed off, and executed Gaveston.
  • Their love affair lives on in Christopher Marlowe’s play of 1592, Edward II, which deals fairly explicitly with their romantic relationship (although not that explicitly, you can take your grandma to see it). 

Luckily, after that, Edward II learned his lesson about taking royal favourites and using them to piss off his barons by giving them lavish gifts and making them Earls of random places, and he absolutely definitely never took another male favourite ever again, which leads right onto 

Hugh Despenser: in which the whole thing happens all over again, only with less exile and more outright bloody civil war, and also waxworks

  • In 1318, a man named Hugh Despenser was made royal chamberlain, and, despite having enjoyed a fairly lukewarm acquaintance before this point, quickly became a favourite of Edward II. By 1320, he was running around demanding titles and money all over the damn place, and Edward was acquiescing all over the same damn place. At this point, most barons were probably wishing that they’d never executed Gaveston, because compared to Despenser, he was a saint. If Gaveston had been a pain in the arse, then Despenser was a pain in every single arse this side of the equator. He was, by all accounts, pretty obnoxious. Unlike Gaveston, who had mostly been interested in shiny things and status, Despenser was interested in power and politics, and used his status to manoeuvre his way up the ranks of English politics like a little worm on a very small ladder. Oh, and Despenser’s wife was also Edward II’s niece. Just so you know.
  • By 1321, everyone hated Despenser except for Edward. Edward’s wife, Isabella, was one of his most vehement detractors. The reason for her hatred of him, seeing as she’d always tolerated Gaveston, isn’t really known - lots of theories have been purported, primarily focusing on Despenser’s reputation of assaulting noblewomen, and possibly Isabella herself. I did tell you that he was awful. Subsequently, some barons rebelled, starting what are now known as the Despenser Wars. There was even an event where some barons contracted a local magician, John of Nottingham, to kill Edward and Despenser by making wax figures of them and destroying them. Bizarrely, it didn’t work. The barons lost the war in 1322, and Edward and Hugh reigned supreme, and by ‘supreme’, I mean ‘with an iron fist’, and by ‘with an iron fist’, I mean ‘like Joffrey Lannister’. 
  • Over the next 4 years, Edward began to severely punish the barons who had been involved in the Despenser Wars. He would execute the barons, then confiscate their widows’ land and give it to someone whose name, you’ll be unsurprised to hear, was Hugh Despenser. Many of these widows were Isabella’s friends, and, despite having been broadly supportive of Edward up to this point, she began to plot against him. She refused to take an oath of loyalty to the Despensers, and Edward retaliated by taking her land, her assets, and even her children, placing them in the custody of… look, do I even need to tell you which family he gave his own children to? It was the Despensers. What a surprise.
  • Remember how I said that Isabella was a badass? This is why. In 1326, she went to France to negotiate with the French king on Edward’s behalf. Whilst there, she made the acquaintance of Roger Mortimer, a marcher lord who didn’t much care for her husband, having been imprisoned by him in the Tower of London for his part in the Despenser Wars. Romance ensued, and so did plotting. Lots of both.
  • With an army of about 1,500 soldiers, Isabella then invaded England, by some accounts whilst dressed as a goddamn widow, and took back her children and her land. This led to two weeks chasing Edward and Hugh Despenser around South Wales, which honestly needs to be a short video with just Edward and Despenser hiding in various castles and Isabella catching up with them and saying ‘look, I can see you both, you’re hiding under the bed,’ and Edward and Despenser shrieking ‘no, you can’t see us! We’re not here!’ until finally Isabella took back her husband. Only by ‘took back’ her husband, I mostly mean ‘imprisoned’. She had Despenser executed in a rather grisly fashion, including but not limited to castration (a joke at his being a ‘sodomite’, as they named him) and having his body chopped up. Grisly.
  • Edward’s fate is unknown, even to this day. A popular urban myth is that he was executed by having a red hot poker shoved up his royal bottom, supposedly so as not to leave any trace of the murder, but this is nowadays widely accepted as being medieval propaganda designed to poke fun at his possible sexual relationships with Gaveston and Despenser.

All of which is really a very long-winded way of saying that Edward II was a terrible king and should definitely have spent more time ruling the country and less time underestimating his wife, but he was also a very interesting figure in terms of being pretty openly Not Heterosexual, and how he’s been vilified, even to this day, for his sexuality. Lots of people still know him as the guy who prioritised his lovers over his country, and that makes sense because he was about as good a king as a wet ham sandwich by all accounts, but they often think of his sexual preferences as being intrinsic to that, as though he would have been inherently better as a king and human being if his lovers had been female instead. Granted, they would have had less recourse to gain political power than his male lovers did because women couldn’t hold the same levels of status or land, but that’s the fault of the political system, not Edward’s sexuality. It would be good if the whole ‘bad gay’ narrative could be superseded by a ‘bad king’ one, but y’know. Let’s not live in hope.

Sources (collated from Warner, Kathryn, Edward II: The Unconventional King): 

  • Vita Edwardi Secundi 
  • Chronicles of Meaux Abbey
  • Close Rolls (of the reign of Edward II)
The adventures of Cal & Farley: Names
  • Cal: I am The Crown Prince of House Calore and Jacos, son of the late, Queen Coriane, General of the Shadow Legion, Heir to the Kingdom of Norta and the Burning Corwn, Tiberias the Seventh.
  • Farley: I'm Farley.
  • Cal: *silence*
  • Farley: Well actually, Diana Farley, but you don't find out about that till the 3rd book.
  • Cal: What?
  • Farley: Sorry what?

“People who live in society have learnt how to see themselves, in mirrors, as they appear to their friends. I have no friends: is that why my flesh is so naked?“ 
― Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea.

Of course, Natsu is the only one who is stupid enough to pull a one-night stand with his fiancée, who he doesn’t know is his fiancée.

Double the Sin


Chapter One

Thinking Out Loud

Hot, heavy, opened mouthed kisses.

Her scent intoxicated him, vanilla flooding his nostrils.

She placed light butterfly kisses along his jawline as she straddled his waist.

One night stands weren’t his forte.

However-"Gah!” He groaned tossing his head back, when the vixen of a woman decided to ground her hips onto his.

“Oh,” she sang sexily, “I like that sound.”

Her small hands unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Sliding her delicate hands under the fabric to appreciate the fine, hard lines his body had. “Mm, so you don’t just have a pretty face.” She whispered hotly in his ear. “I like.” Her nails scratched down his abs, making him hiss in pleasure.

This woman was driving him insane, her breath lingering with wine and mint. Her kisses tempting him to just go and take control.

She pulled away, chocolate orbs staring into his bottomless green ones. Gods, she was beautiful. Her long blonde hair, that was in a classy bun not too long away, cascaded down her shoulders messily.

That sinfully short, black dressed teased him as it bunched around her thighs showing off her creamy long legs. The blonde noticed something, pressing a chaste kiss on his thin lips. “Whatcha thinking about?” She whispered.

He caught her lower lip, nibbling on it gently. “You.” He replied quickly.

She raised a perfect brow, adjusting herself to lie on his stomach. Face close, and plump, red lips mere millimeters away from his. “Good.” she moaned, kissing his nose, “I was thinking about you too.”

The temptress buried her face in the crook of his neck, sucking, kissing and biting. Gods, she was a vixen. It was like she knew what he liked.

“Oh?” He breathed heavily, “What about me?”

Kissing up to his ear, she nibbled on it gently, “Just you-” she paused, pulling away. The man groaned from the lost of her lips. But seeing her straddling his hips, hair in a mess, and that sexy smirk tugging on her lips. “…And your pink hair.”

“It’s salmon, dammit-” she cut him off kissing him fully. Her kisses were full of passion, and very hot. Her tongue wiped at the sea of his lips, begging for entrance which he allowed. Her hands that were fisting his open shirt were now tangled in his messy locks.

The pink-haired man pulled away, which wasn’t very far, to stare at the beautiful girl above him. “You never told me your name.” he stated.

She nipped at his lower lip, emitting a low growl from the man under her. “Does that even matter?”

“Of course it matters,” he grunted nipping right back, “I need to know the name of the girl who is driving me insane.”

She smiled sexily, leaning closer to his ear. “The name’s Lucy.” she breathed hotly.

His jeans were painfully tight.

She grinned widely, rubbing herself on the tent of his pants. “Na-gah! Ah!”

“Na-gah?” she repeated playfully.

“Na-” he took a deep breath, hands gripping her wide hips. “Natsu.”

Lucy’s hands trailed down from his neck and to the top of his pants, fiddling with the belt. “Natsu?” Lucy said trying out his name, having it roll on her tongue.

Natsu now believed hearing her say his name was the sexist sound ever.

“Tell me, Natsu. Have you done something like this before?” Her words laced with everything but innocence.

The blonde pressed herself harder against him. Gods, she was going to kill him.

Natsu’s hands trailed down to the flesh of her ass and squeezed. That gave him the most delicious sound ever, a breathy moan. He rubbed himself against her.

“You-ah! Never answered the question..” She cried out, hands cupping his face and leaning down to kiss him.

She sucked on his tongue, groaning, and savoring the moan he let out. Thick, hot air surrounding them to the point where they couldn’t breathe.

“You’re pretty sexy.” He whispered.

“And you still haven’t answered my question.” She pointed out.

A boyish grin took over his face, “Sex with a stranger? No.”

“So I’m your first.” she teased, before lowering herself, chest to chest. “Good.”

And all the fire that he stored in his body was soon released. No longer was she on top of him.

Instead, he was pinning her down onto the hotel’s mattress.

Hands, running up and down her creamy legs.

“Surrender to me, Luce.”

And she kissed him.

Natsu groaned loudly; however the music had drowned out his voice.

Why was he even at this party? Oh yes, that’s right. His boss made him.

Or should he say his father?

The young adult dressed nicely for the occasion, black slack and a button-down red dress shirt. Oh, he was highly attractive. All the women there made sure he knew that.

Yes the women were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the beautiful blonde.

Once again Natsu groaned, running his hand through his rose-colored locks in frustration.

It’s been weeks. He had left her his number, and she even promised to call. But no. It’s been fucking weeks, and he hasn’t heard anything from her.

As he turned to leave, a large hand slapped the man hard on the back almost knocking him over.

Natsu growled, “Grr! What the hell was that, old man?”

Igneel barked out laughing, “Cheer up boy, you look pathetic.” The older gentleman then thrust a cup in his son’s hand. “Drink!”

As much as Natsu wanted to argue, he did look pretty pathetic. Without hesitation, he downed the liquid not minding the burning sensation in left in his throat.

“Atta boy!” Igneel grinned, flashing his sharp teeth. “You have to look somewhat loose and decent. The Heartfilia family is here.” The man whispered the last part.

Great, the most stuck-up family in the world. Fairytail has heard stories about the Heartfilias. That the owner was cruel and cared about no one except for making money. However, he did marry and had a child. Fairytail knew that his wife died years later, but no one knew about his child.

Not until, about five years ago.

Some expected his child to be a stuck up, heartless snob, and Natsu couldn’t help but believe those rumors.

So when the idea of an arranged marriage was proposed, Natsu immediately tried to shoot that offer down.

But Igneel talked to the man of the Heartfilia household and the idea was taken.

Tonight was the night Natsu would finally meet his stuck up snob of a fiancée.

“Igneel!” A deep voice bellowed to grab the red-head’s attention. Both Dragneels turned to the voice, only to stare into heartless brown eyes. So much for having the word heart in his last name.

Igneel, however smiled, “Ah, Jude. Wonderful to have you join this gathering.” If gathering meant a party with all the biggest companies, then yes, a gathering.

Jude nodded.

After some awkward silence, Igneel introduced his son. “This is Natsu, future heir of the Fairytail and Dragneel Industries.”

Natsu smiled forcefully, it was more like he was barring his teeth.

“Charming.” Jude mocked emotionlessly.

Natsu opened his mouth to say something, but his father’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“I apologize for my daughter’s lateness. She seems to be around here somewhere.”

As if she had a cue, a beautiful blonde strolled right next to the older man. Bowing slightly, “I am sorry for being so late. I got caught up in a conversation with the owner of Sabertooth.

Jude frowned. "Being late is no excuse.”

“Yes father.” She replied, it was like she had said it a million times before.

The blonde looked up, and her doe brown eyes locked onto bottomless green. Eyes wide, and mouth forming a small o-shape.

Natsu’s eyes were wide as saucers. He couldn’t believe it.

The girl in front of him was the girl from that night.

She was his fiancée?!

“Natsu Dragneel. This is your fiancée.”

“Lucy Heartfilia.”

Note 1: I-I don’t know how I wrote this considering I am the complete virgin of all my friends. The only time I have kissed or held hands with someone was in truth or dare in 8th grade.

This is just something new considering I have yet to update For Keeps.

Please leave a review. Thanks, Love.

I Want Everything

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary:  Stark!Reader finds out she is pregnant with Ramsay’s child. He becomes obsessed with the child, going to long lengths to ensure security for his heir. Then, the baby is born; it’s a girl. Ramsay is not happy, and you know exactly what happens when Ramsay isn’t happy.

Words: 2716

Requested?: Yes

Original Request: (Pre-bastards battle) Can you do an one-shot in which stark!reader is pregnant with the babe of Ramsey, who is some kinda fond of her, he is excited because the babe would born soon and he’d has his heir, but in the end they find out that it is a girl? Maybe he tries to kill the babe but he has to wait and goes to the battle of bastards first? Well, you decide the end! Sorry my english, hehehe. Thank youuuu❤

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11497314

It had been two months since you last bled, and it somewhat bothered you. It was conflicting. Petyr had told you that Ramsay Bolton of the Dreadfort was no one to worry about. He had taken you from the monsters who killed your family and gave you to the other monsters who killed your family. Ramsay had raped you on your wedding night. He enjoyed every second of it.

Petyr’s words meant nothing to you now.

Since then, Ramsay kept you in a tower away from everyone and everything. Two chambermaids came to your room. To feed you, to clothe you, and to give you what you needed. Whenever Ramsay wanted to see you, he would send Theon, or Reek, as he now called himself. You would watch his form crouched before you and every time it made you so happy. Theon deserved his fate, but you didn’t deserve this.

The maester had sat you down and told you slowly. He figured it would be the best way to give the news. You didn’t freeze. You didn’t panic. This was the North. This was your family’s land. You had nothing to be afraid of.

“I have to tell him,” the maester said.

“Do you have to?” you asked, hoping you could keep your secret for a while longer. The maester shook his head.

“I am sworn to my lord and his family,” you sensed fear, not loyalty in the maester’s voice. Later on, you sat in your room pondering when Ramsay would send for you. A knock on the door snapped you out of your private thoughts. The door opened to reveal the wicked bastard. His smile grew and grew every second. He closed the door behind him and walked over to a chair.

“So, we are with child?” He dragged the wood across the floor to you and sat down. “When are we due?”

“Not for a while,” you said, looking down. “I haven’t bled in two moons. I expect six or seven more will pass.” Ramsay’s fingers cradled your chin.
“This is good news, (Y/N),” he said, quietly. “This is good for both of us. Anything you need, anything at all, I will give it to you. After all, my heir, our son, is inside you now.” Ramsay placed his hand over your stomach.

“My lord, there is barely anything there,” you mentioned.

“No, I can feel him. He is there. I can feel his heart beating. It beats for the North,” Ramsay said.

During the days, it would be the same. Every morning you would wake up to a well-balanced breakfast, but you would eat in front of Ramsay and his father and new stepmother. She was also pregnant. Ramsay treated it as a competition of sorts.

Ramsay became increasingly attentive and slightly obsessed with the child growing in your stomach. One night he came into your bedroom with your permission, but then again, he never asked permission.

“From now on, I’ll be spending my nights here with you,” he said. Staring at your swollen belly. “I want to spend every night with my family.”

“What about Myranda?” you weren’t a fool. You knew who Myranda was to him. You knew she loved him.

“What about her?” Ramsay’s tongue clicked.

“She wouldn’t like you here with me,” you said. It was the truth. You both knew it. Ramsay smiled, but not in a wicked manner.

“She’s gone. I have sent her away from here,” Ramsay said. “I don’t need her anymore. She is a distraction.”

“A distraction?”

“Yes. You are my wife. You are carrying my son. Myranda was just a small step to what I have always wanted.”

“What do you want?” You found yourself leaning forward to him. You felt the baby kick. Ramsay leaned forward in his chair, inches from your face.


Ramsay had accompanied you to every appointment you had about your impending child. It made the maester very nervous. His hands would shake with the tools he had in his hands. His breathing became shorter as Ramsay kept a close eye on him. The maester looked at you and gave you the good news.

“I think due to Ramsay’s involvement mother and child are healthy. We should see our new little lord soon enough,” he smiled at you. You opened your moth to say something.

“How soon?” Ramsay interrupted before you could begin. The maseter became flustered. “How soon till I can hold him?” His question shocked you. You understood Ramsay wanted an heir more than anything now that his stepmother was about to have her child. You didn’t think he would love your child.

Back in your bedroom, Ramsay held you the same way he always did. His arm wrapped around the swollen belly. You turned your body to face his.

“Do you love him?” you asked.


“Do you love our child? Truly love him? Not as an heir, not as a piece in your puzzle. Do you love him?” you needed to know. The words hung in the air for a beat. Ramsay shifted his body, and sat up. His fingers played in your hair.

“Is it possible to love someone you’ve never met?”

“That was not my question,” you wouldn’t let him talk his way out of this one.

“I love him,” Ramsay admitted. “But, it scares me. All of this scares me.”

“Scares you? This scares you?” You sat up, Ramsay’s fingers fell out of your hair. His eyebrows knitted together. One layer faded away from Ramsay before your eyes.

“I only wanted to be a Bolton, and now I can have so much more. I can’t lose everything now. I’m so close,” he said.

“You’ll never have it,” the words slipped out your mouth. “You father is Lord of Winterfell. You are his bastard.”

“I’m a Bolton. I’m not his bastard. I am heir to Winterfell.”

“Your stepmother’s child will determine that. You know if he’s a boy, he will be the heir to Winterfell. Not you and not Robb.”


“That’s our son’s name.”

“You’re naming him after your brother?”

“Yes,” you narrowed your eyes at Ramsay. You wanted him to argue against it. You wanted him to fight you on this. You wanted some justice for your family. You wanted him angry and to hurt you. Ramsay blinked at you.

“Okay,” he finally said. Your face fell.


“Okay,” Ramsay smiled. “This is your son too. Your say matters to me.” His fingers cradled your chin. He brought you closer to his face. “You have absolutely no idea how far I will go for you and him. I would do anything for us.”

“Now you’re scaring me,” you whispered to him. Ramsay closed his eyes and kissed your forehead tenderly. He had never been this soft before.

“You have nothing to worry about. I would never hurt you,” that was a lie. Or was it? Ramsay was being so soft. He raped you. He kept you in this room. He killed your family. No, his father did that. Ramsay tortured Theon. Ramsay held down several forts for his father. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve hurt me before,” you said.

“I like hurting people, it’s not that surprising.”

“Would you hurt him?” Your eyes shot open. Ramsay shook his head.

“Never. I wouldn’t lay a finger on him,” Ramsay laid you back down. Your eyes closed. Maybe he would be a good father. He loved his child. He wouldn’t hurt him, not like he hurt you. Ramsay was mad. He was fond of you, but he never apologized for what he did to you. He was taking all the power in this marriage, but you still slept at night.

When you woke, Ramsay was gone. You went to try the door. You jiggled the knob. Nothing. Locked. It didn’t surprise you. You turned back to the bed. The cold air came through in your room. It sent a small chill up your back. Something was different.

You never believed in magic. Stannis and his Red Woman were nothing but a joke to you. You had lost your faith in the gods the day your saw your father Ned Stark’s head fall to the ground. Sansa fainted into your chest that day. You lost Ayra that day.

You did believe in signs. The chill up your spine. Something was wrong. A knock came to your door. It opened to reveal a dirty, mud-covered Reek. You never let him touch you, but he led you down the corridors towards the main courtyard.

Ramsay waited for you. You watched his grin turn up his cheeks. His blue eyes were wide. He greeted you with a kiss to your cheek; the warmth from his mouth heated your face. After the warmth left your cheek it went to your ear.

“I did something for us,” he whispered. “Something wonderful.”

“What?” you said softly. Ramsay turned you to see Walda, Ramsay’s stepmother, hanging from a pole. Her mauled body dangled lifeless, blood dripped from the holes and gouges. Other parts of her body were lightly covered in snow. Her face was nearly unrecognizable. “R-ramsay, what did you do?”

“They’re gone. They’re all gone,” he said aloud. “I killed them all for us. For all of us.” He rubbed his hand on your belly.

“Do you mean?”

“Yes, I am Lord of Winterfell. This is all ours,” Ramsay took your hand. He led you to one of the highest parts of Winterfell. The ramparts. He pointed out to the never ending lands. “This is ours. This is mine, and one day it will be his.” He said into your ear. You didn’t know why, but you didn’t let go of his hand. It fit there.

More weeks went by, and your belly grew and grew until you felt your water break. You were rushed to a secluded room with wet nurses and the maester fussing over you. You could hear Ramsay outside kicking and screaming to get into the room with you. As sweet as that was, it didn’t help with the labor.

Sweat built up on your forehead. You could feel your heart beat twice as fast. A wet nurse, who was positioned between your legs, ordered you to push and push and push. And you did. You push with all of your strength and might. You screamed to the top of your lungs. It was painful. It felt awful.

But then you heard it.

A singular, loud cry. Your eyes felt heavy, but you tilted your head, and there he was. Your child. You felt like laughing. A wet nurse took the baby away and cleaned it up. You fought against your body to stay awake. You pushed yourself to sit up more. You needed to see him. You never wanted anything more in your entire life. The wet nurse brought the baby to your arms.

The wet nurse placed the baby in your arms. He was tiny. He had dark hair just like Ramsay’s. Your finger trailed along the baby’s face, and you never fell in love with someone so fast. It was as if nothing else mattered in this world. You remembered how your mother would tell you that you could never understand a mother’s love unless you were a mother. You understood her now.

“I know it’s not her name day, but did you have a name in mind?”
“Robb,” you said dreamily. “Wait, what did you say?”

“What were you going to name her?”

“Her?” You opened the blankets of your newborn and looked at your baby girl. You felt your heart stop. Everything Ramsay hoped for was gone. He wanted a boy. He needed a boy. He would hurt her. No, that’s not true. He promised he wouldn’t. No, he promised he wouldn’t hurt him. Not her.

Ramsay came into the room, and you quickly covered your daughter up in your arms. You held her so close to you that you swore you could feel her tiny heartbeat.

“Y/N! Where is he?” his wicked smile turned into a wicked joy. His hands were out, ready to hold his child.

“Ramsay, let me hold him for a while longer,” you lied. “I only just got him.”

“Surely you can spare me a couple of minutes with him.” Ramsay sat down next to you by the bed. “If you’re worried I’ll drop him, I won’t. I’m sitting in this chair. No harm will come to him.”

“No harm will come to who, my lord?” the same wet nurse interrupted.

“My child. Have you seen him? He has my hair and her nose,” Ramsay said proudly.

“Yes, congratulations, my lord, but your lady has not told you?” the wet nurse said. You stared at the wet nurse. You hoped to get her attention. You shook your head, and you tried to mouth the words.

“My lady has not told me what?” he smiled.

“You have a daughter, not a son, my lord,” Ramsay’s smile faded immediately. He looked to you and your daughter. Your grip tightened on her.

“Let me see,” he said.


“I want to see,” he said, more threatening this time.

“Ramsay, please.” He grabbed your neck in front of everyone. His hand tightening every two seconds.

“I need to see, Y/N. Give the baby to me.” You unfolded the blankets, and you let him see your daughter bare and how the gods made her, but you never let go of her. Ramsay let go of your neck and did a sharp turn. He walked out of the room, and you didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

The next day, you heard word that Lord Ramsay met with your bastard brother, Lord Commander Jon Snow. There was going to be war tomorrow. You had no idea that Jon was Lord Commander. How long had Ramsay kept you in that locked tower away from everyone? You didn’t know, but you wouldn’t let that happen to her. Not to her. She was going to live a happy life.

That night, Ramsay came into your bedroom. You were feeding her. Ramsay held something behind his back. You pretended to not notice. You pretended to not notice your heart beat speed up. You tried to keep your breathing deep and calm.

“Good evening,” you muttered.

“Y/N, may I see our baby girl?” You looked up at his eyes. He was completely serious. You looked back down to her. Her eyes opened a little. She had blue eyes just like her father. They looked up to you and blinked once then closed. She felt so warm and so close to you.

“No,” you said.

“Excuse me?” Ramsay said.

“I said, no,” your voice rose. Ramsay revealed the dagger from behind him.

“Give her to me, Y/N,” Ramsay said calmly. “She is no heir.” He took one step towards you and the baby. You wrapped your arms around her and tilted to your side. If he was going to hurt her, he would have to hurt you too. Your body shielded her. You could hear Ramsay’s slow footsteps.

“Y/N, I don’t want to do this. Give her to me,” he said. He was close. You could feel his body heat.

“No, you promised you wouldn’t hurt our child. You promised!” you heard a knock at the door.

“My lord,” someone greeted. “Scouts are back. They would like to speak with you about the wildling army.” You looked and you watched Ramsay leave without any sign of coming back. You had to go. You had to save her. He wanted to kill her. You found Theon in the kennel freezing to death. You dragged him out of there, and both of you snuck out of Winterfell and into the dark.

You don’t remember much of that long night. You had blocked it out of your head. You don’t remember much of that entire day either. All you could see was Ramsay’s face being chewed and mauled by his own dogs. You could still hear his howls and screams. None of that haunted you. It did hurt you, but it didn’t matter now. You watched little Lyanna run around in circles in the courtyard with her aunt Sansa. Ramsay didn’t get everything he wanted, but you did.

A Queen for the King #9

Summary: With a righteous blow, Arthur defeated Vortigern, destroyed the looming tower, and had taken his rightful place on the throne, vowing to do whatever was necessary to defend the kingdom, and her people. He was a King of the people; honest, compassionate, hard working. Everything that Vortigern was not. There was just one thing missing; the woman he was betrothed to as a child. There is a saying, after all; every king needs a queen.
Characters in this chapter: Arthur Pendragon, female reader, Uther Pendragon II [omc]
Pairing: Arthur Pendragon x female reader
Word Count: 1,254
Warnings: Fluff, angst, premie baby drama [I can’t say much more or it will be a spoiler]
Author’s Note: Thank you so much for all the support and positivity you have shown us! This series would be nothing without you.GIFs found on Google.

Co-written with @winchester-writes

Our work is not to be posted on any other sites without our express written permission.


The doctor came out of the room, greeting Arthur with a slight bow, quickly closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, my King, but the Queen has gone into labor.”

“Wh- what do you mean?” Arthur swallowed thickly. It was too soon. You couldn’t be having the baby now.

“I have tried everything I can to slow the progress, but your child is very determined to make an entrance.” The older gentleman clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “I shall do everything in my power to keep them both safe. You will have a Queen and an heir.”

“My King, it is an honor to present to you, your son.”

Arthur held his son, and looked down into his face, immediately seeing Y/N in the wide, newborn baby grey eyes that stared up at Arthur. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love anyone more than you, but standing there, in that moment, he was proven wrong.

Originally posted by babyphotography1

Never in your life had you seen a child born so small, but he was precious all the same, and he was yours. Arthur was the one to walk through the doors and hand him over to you, that first contact with your newborn broke through another wall of emotions you didn’t know you could have. You cried over how small he was, knowing there could be complications with him being born so early, but Arthur reminded you he was a Pendragon; strong-willed and a fighter.

Keep reading

Don’t Look Back (ACOTAR AU) - Part 2

Part 1Part 3Part 4Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18Part 19

Summary: It’s senior year and everyone is fighting battles they do not want to face. Toxic relationships, conservative parents and alcohol are a bad mix. Quite frankly a recipe for disaster.

The phone buzzed between where Lucien and Feyre were sitting on her bed, surrounded by physics equations, sweet wrappers and a disrupted comfortable silence. They both tensed as they knew who the caller would be, but Feyre didn’t want to face him yet. Not yet.

Lucien watched as Feyre continued on through their homework, her attempts of blatantly ignoring the phone were unsuccessful, as although she stared at the paper, he knew she wasn’t thinking about the nuclear fusion.

He put down his homework and leaned towards her, “Feyre, maybe we should listen.”

“What if we don’t, what if we let him dwell on what he has done,” she leaned back against the pillows, her homework now discarded.

Lucien wanted to. Oh how he wanted to. He was so furious at his friend that he wanted to make him dwell, make him feel guilty. But the small part of his mind niggled at him. Help him, he needs you.

Keep reading


LOTR 30 days challenge | day 9: favorite man
“Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Andúril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. ‘Elendil!’, he cried. ‘I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil’s son of Gondor. Here is the sword that was broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!’”