i should have put a crown on her!

  • Dahyun: Wait a sec it’s Nayeon’s birthday today, should’t we have planned something for her
  • Jeongyeon: Nah, Nayeon has it covered
  • Mina: Nayeon… has her own birthday celebrations covered?
  • Jihyo: Nayeon is a little specific when it comes to her birthday
  • Jeongyeon: And apparently we do it wrong every year, so now she just plans it herself
  • Nayeon: [Throws open her bedroom door, wearing a golden cape and fanciful crown]
  • Nayeon: [gasps in fake suprise] Look at all these decorations, they’re so beautiful, thank you guys so much, you put so much effort into my birthday, I’m so honoured
  • Jeongyeon: every year…

anonymous asked:

Marinette is wearing a flower in her hair and bee!Chloé cant control herself for the Marichat tropes.

im glad that maribee!marichat tropes are becoming a thing :P

words: 1695

“Okay, so it says I need to get a package of puff pastry.”

Marinette snorted and spoke with her mouth full. “Strike one. Store bought puff pastry is abominable.”

Queen Bee frowned. “Obviously I would get the expensive kind.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all sub-par. You gotta make that stuff from scratch otherwise what’s the point?”

“Not all of us live in a professional bakery, Marinette!”

Marinette stuck her tongue out. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Queen Bee plucked up some of the mille-feuille crumbs from her plate and threw them in Marinette’s hair, laughing when the girl screamed in outrage. “Don’t sass me, I’m a superhero!”

Marinette shoved a foot against Queen Bee’s thigh, jokingly trying to shove her from her dainty perch on her balcony railing. “I’m giving you my professional opinion.”

“No.” Queen Bee reached over and tapped her on the nose. “You’re making things difficult by not giving me the recipe for these things and forcing me to do research.”

Marinette shrugged. “Family recipe. Sworn to secrecy. Sorry, my dear.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone! Surely you’d trust me over anyone else.”

“Your sterling commitment to civic duty is not enough of a reason.”

Queen Bee pouted and handed Marinette’s phone back to her. “Fine. I’ll just starve then.”

“Or you could just come back during opening hours and buy some.”

Queen Bee smirked. “Why would I do that if I can just tap on your window and get some for free?”

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“which one are you again?” 

“aegon, aunt.”

she looks at him with blank eyes–violet irises with pupils gone pale with age, searching through his face as if unable to articulate the question.

“maekar’s son, who was your cousin daeron’s fourth son.”

a smile cracked across her old face.  “aegon.  of course.  i thought.  but no.  no that would have been years before, and he never named a son after himself.”  

“no, he didn’t, aunt,” aegon agreed, knowing she meant her cousin aegon the unworthy.  she was old–older than anyone else in the palace, or so it seemed.  

“i went to your wedding,” she said.  “to the blackwood girl.  not missy, though she looked rather like her.  what was her name?”

“betha,” aegon says.  

“betha.  yes.  betha.  not bethany.  she was a bracken, and older besides.  how many years ago was that?”


“thirteen.  i was positively young then, wasn’t i?  how old was i?”

“we were wed just after your seventieth name day.”

“seventy and then thirteen.  so that would make me eighty three.  gods i had not thought to live this long.  daena died before thirty, and i can still remember her face…and would you know? i used to be able,” she waved a gnarled finger in the air, “i’d once have been able to do that math in my head.  seventy plus thirteen is eighty three.  yes.   but i fade.  that’s age.  fading eyes, fading wits, fading memory.” she looked at him again with those pale eyes.  “aegon.  son of maekar, son of daeron my dear beloved cousin.  i loved him.”

“i know, aunt,” aegon says.

“and you had a little sister.  rhae, was it?”

“rhae and daella.  two of them.”

“yes, but rhae was the one who was frightened of me. i heard her telling your father so once.  didn’t want to wish me a happy name day.”

aegon blinked, and almost laughed.  “i’d forgotten that.”

“i suppose there’s something left in this old mind,” cackled elaena targaryen.  “she was a sweet girl.  afraid of getting old.  that’s youth for you.  afraid of all the wrong things.”

she gave him a significant look and he felt a chill go up his spine.  if rhae had been afraid of aunt elaena because she was old, aegon had always been nervous about her because somehow she always managed to–

“i raised seven children,” she said, patting his arm.  “but you weren’t one of them.  i know when you’re frightened.  you only ever come find me when you’re frightened.”

aegon swallowed.  

“if you wait much longer to spit it out, i may die,” she japed and aegon felt his mouth open in surprise.  how rarely did he speak with her these days that those words would surprise him?  he knew she had a cutting tongue, and spoke her mind.  betha had liked her very well in the early days at court, before their children, before she’d begun to make friends, before elaena had grown too old to easily make her way across the red keep to take tea with her.  and now she barely remembers betha…a face in a sea of people over a long life, i suppose.  he would tell betha to visit her when he was done.  if you wait much longer to spit it out, i may die.

“aunt elaena, what if they make me king?”

elaena targaryen frowned.  “you have older brothers.”

“aerion is dead, and aemon wears a maester’s chain.  he did not say if he would put it aside for the crown.  what if he doesn’t.  what if i’m to be king?  i don’t want to be king.”



“no man in his right mind should want to be a king.”

that made aegon smile, though he couldn’t say he was amused.  

“if they make you king, they make you king.  it’s an unfortunate thing–most kings don’t decide to be king.  it happens to them.  you’ll be part of that grand tradition.”

“yes but…but i’m not prepared.  i was supposed to be a knight of the kingsguard.”

“and now you’re married with heirs and next in line for the throne after your brother who has none but you.”

aegon swallowed.  “yes,” he said, his voice the uncomfortable midway point between a whisper and a murmur.  

“what?  speak up, boy.”  

he cleared his throat.  “yes, aunt.”

“that’s a good thing to be afraid of.  kingship and your first foray of fatherhood.  that was the last time, you know.”

“the last time what?”

“the last time you came to me frightened.  i remember now.” she was smiling and there were gaps between some teeth where others had fallen from her gums.  she seemed less addled as if she were able to pull the world together around her despite being barely able to see and hear.  did she remember?  or did she just guess–correctly–that as betha had taken to her birthing bed, aegon had gone to find his aunt who had born seven children, since his own mother and grandmother were long dead.  “fear’s a good sign,” she continued.  “a sign you’re not stupid.  neither mad nor stupid.  a good start to a reign.”

aegon tried to laugh.

“what if i am bad at it?  what if i’m worse than aegon the unworthy and all the kingdoms spit upon my memory?”

“don’t worry about that.  you’ll be dead,” elaena said dryly.  “why do men always worry about how they’ll be remembered?  i’ve never understood.  daeron and conquering dorne, baelor and his sept, aegon and his manhood…daeron was the only one with a head on his shoulder and he was called daeron the good because of it.  aim for that.  or aim for no one remembering you so they’ll remember how odd it was you made it to your throne to begin with, youngest son of a youngest son that you are.”

“yes, but–”

“no.  no buts.  don’t worry about how the histories will write you.  someone will always hate some king or another.  that’s how it goes.  do good.  be good.  serve.  that’s what it is to be king–serving.  some kings think it’s the other way around but they’re wrong.  don’t be that arrogant, or you shan’t be a very good one. and you’re neither mad nor stupid.  you have that as an advantage already.  don’t squander it.”

“yes aunt,” aegon said.  she made it sound so very easy, but that had always been aunt elaena.  even when he’d been a boy, the way she’d spoken about the crown’s accounts, the kingdoms’ economy as though it were something even a child could master…how stunning she was.  he’d only begun to realize as she’d grown too old and her mind had begun to fade.

“you won’t be alone,” she added.  “you’ve your ser duncan to help keep your head on properly.  and me so long as i’m alive, but you and i both know i shan’t last forever.  and i’m sure betha will have her opinions.  she’s always had them.  it’s what i liked about her to begin with.”

“oh, i imagine her opinions won’t be going anywhere,” aegon laughed, though he didn’t truly feel humored.  “but it all feels…well it’s no matter.  perhaps aemon will shed his chain.”

“you and i both know he won’t,” elaena said, and her voice cut through the room, and aegon stiffened.  “that boy’s headstrong.  all of maekar’s boys were.  comes from maekar himself, and dyanna.  she was a stubborn one too.  just like betha.  he gave his word when he forged his chain and put aside his name.  that’ll be that.  you’ll be the next king.  best to prepare yourself for that now.”

aegon took a deep breath.  she was right of course.  he remembered his grandfather saying something like that once.  “always listen to elaena.  she’s always right.”

they sat quietly for a time, and aegon staring vaguely out of the window. king aegon.  aegon the fifth.  aegon the unlikely.  that’s how he’d be remembered, he was sure of it.  youngest son of a youngest son.  why do men always worry about how they’ll be remembered?

he heard a shuffling snore.

he glanced back at aunt elaena.  her head had rolled forward and her pale eyes were closed and she had fallen asleep.  aegon got to his feet and found a woolen wrap and wrapped it gently around her.  she was old.  he dreaded that she would catch a cold.

Dauntless: Daddy Dearest (Part 6)

Eric x OC

Warnings: Language, Violence, Slight Seduction

A/N: Let me know what you think about the ending. Do you think Eric would sink that low?

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed, grabbing one of the soldiers by his collar and jerking him around. “You think this is a fucking game!? I fucking told you to move those goddamn crates and I meant it!”

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i-just-like-commenting  asked:

As I read you description of Renly's scheming to get Margaery to be Robert's mistress, how much of that do you think was his idea and how much was the Tyrells'? I tednt to read Renly as a (witting and willing) puppet of the Tyrells in their bid to get more power.

I think it was mostly (perhaps almost entirely) Renly’s idea. The Tyrells want power, yes, but they’re cautious about it. Well, partially cautious. For example:

Her grandmother snorted. “Gallant, yes, and charming, and very clean. [Renly] knew how to dress and he knew how to smile and he knew how to bathe, and somehow he got the notion that this made him fit to be king. The Baratheons have always had some queer notions, to be sure. It comes from their Targaryen blood, I should think.” She sniffed. “They tried to marry me to a Targaryen once, but I soon put an end to that.”
“Renly was brave and gentle, Grandmother,” said Margaery. “Father liked him as well, and so did Loras.”
“Loras is young,” Lady Olenna said crisply, “and very good at knocking men off horses with a stick. That does not make him wise. As to your father, would that I’d been born a peasant woman with a big wooden spoon, I might have been able to beat some sense into his fat head. […] It’s treason, I warned them, Robert has two sons, and Renly has an older brother, how can he possibly have any claim to that ugly iron chair? Tut-tut, says my son, don’t you want your sweetling to be queen? […] The thought that one day he may see his grandson with his arse on the Iron Throne makes Mace puff up like […a puff fish…] We should have stayed well out of all this bloody foolishness if you ask me, but once the cow’s been milked there’s no squirting the cream back up her udder. After Lord Puff Fish put that crown on Renly’s head, we were into the pudding up to our knees, so here we are to see things through.”

–ASOS, Sansa I

This discussion is of course about the Tyrells supporting Renly’s bid for king, but I think it also applies to Renly’s Margaery/Robert plot. While Mace might find the plan attractive, Olenna would consider the idea of throwing her sweet granddaughter into a den of lions in hopes she might succeed in turning Robert’s head and gaining a crown for hers absolutely appalling. (There’s the danger of Cersei knocking Margaery off, there’s the chance that the adultery/incest might not be provable, there’s a chance that Robert might make Margaery his mistress but not his new queen, or maybe he’d just love her and leave her like he does with most women, etc.) So I very much doubt it was a plan that the Tyrells came up with on their own and proposed to Renly.

Rather, I think Renly was visiting Highgarden, saw Margaery and heard something about how people were comparing her beauty and appearance to the proven royal-seducing Lyanna (which of course is B.S. but also Margaery doesn’t look a thing like Lyanna so, y’know, the romance of the Reach yadda yadda), and realized aha, here was the key he could use to influence Robert and get rid of Cersei. Maybe Loras played a small part too – like, “you’re unhappy with Cersei and Joffrey, why don’t you do something about it” – but he also was definitely Renly’s instrument in convincing his family to go along with the plan. Varys says Loras was writing to Mace, not the other way around. And also, Mace may be an ambitious pompous blowhard, but he doesn’t strike me as someone who’d come up with the idea to pimp out his daughter that way (unlike those who facilitated Aegon IV’s mistresses, like Lord Bracken with his daughters Barba and Bethany, or Lucas “the Pander” Lothson with his wife and daughter).

Note Renly also tells Stannis that he was planning to make Margaery Robert’s queen, he doesn’t blame it on the Tyrells or anything – and though that could just be his own “look how clever I am” taking credit for it, IMO it’s said too casually, as an admission of “yep, guilty, I had those plans all right”. Basically, I think it’s an extreme misread to think Renly was being manipulated by the Tyrells to give them power, or by anyone else. Everything he did was his own choices, alas.

Burnin’ Love (Part two) (NSFW)
  • Title: Burnin’ Love - Part two (NSFW)
  • Pairing: Maxwell x MC 
  • Summary: My entry for this week of #ChoicesCreates! @hollyashton @texanhusker

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

Originally posted by madness-in-suit

She absentmindedly stared at whatever was in front of her, the sound of the chatter surrounding her and the soft music of the violins being played at the end of the room distant to her ears. Hands were fisted inside the pockets of the dress, her back straight for good posture and body tense.

A hand placed itself on the lower-half of her back, making her almost jump due to the unexpected touch, but she had learnt to always keep her composure when in a royal event. Turning her head to the side, she tilted her head back a bit to lock eyes with the one who had interrupted her thoughts.

The blue eyes staring down at her almost took her breath away. The colour was darker than its usual light tone, pulling her inside its depths, making her notice the specks of green that surrounded the pupil. Dark and unnerving, they moved across her face, studying her features while stripping her down from the fences she had built against his charm…

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sonicsfan1998  asked:

Can you do a story where Sonic finally gets the courage to tell Amy he loves her? Some people really go out of character with Sonic and Tails, make sure you don't go out of character please, like some fanfictions do, it throws me off and makes me see Sonic in a slightly darker light.

I make it my life’s WORK to try and stay in character, hon XD But I also have to say that it will be AU (out of character) for Sonic to just up and say it, you know? So you’re asking for a very canon moment between the two where he ‘kinda’ says he loves her but not so directly, right?

In most of my prompts, I usually have it where Sonic and Amy are a little older, just so that Sonic can feel those ‘hormones’ a little stronger XD and feel the need to not want to keep it all ‘same old, same old’ anymore too.

But I digress, on with the show! :D/ (Are you expecting Tails to be in this prompt, or..? 0-o)


Sonic zig-zagged between the robotic horsemen’s legs, seeing the robotic centaur look down and step away, having in one hand an electric spear, and the other, Amy Rose…

“Okay! I believe you!” Amy kicked her legs as the robot sent a bolt of lightning down at Sonic, who flipped into the air and started climbing the floating stones to get to the Centaurs weak-points.

The centaur was being controlled by the machines, the storybook having a corrupted God from mythology use his mechanical know-how to corrupt his fellow Gods and also their beings.

He was sucked into this world and Amy fell in soon after, seeing the book shaking and glowing, her curiosity just got the best of her.

Sonic rammed his head into the last remaining red button that connected the whole of the machine to the centaur, as his last piece of shoulder, mechanical armor came off, and he calmed down.

Sonic landed and smiled, holding out his arms as the creature sorrowfully, with a look of asking for forgiveness in his eyes, lowered the girl back into Sonic’s arms.

He nodded, and took off, as Amy kept speaking.

“So… you really WERE King Author! And those… those rings were… Woah! My head’s spinning so much I can’t even think straight!” Amy put her hands to her head, ducking them down and shaking them while Sonic carried on his merry way.

“I mean, I know you get into some tough situations.” Amy was fiddling with her hands as Sonic fought Poseidon in the background.

The scene seems to then shift again as Amy is on a rock and kicking some pebbles around, “And I know you wouldn’t naturally lie to me unless it was something important…” Sonic fights Zeus as the giant lightning bolt is casted into the air, and Sonic jumps to narrowly dodge but uses his Super form to shift the energy away from hitting Amy and then taking down the metal helmet controlling him on his head.

“And I mean, you weren’t really trying to avoid me. I understand that now.” She nods her head as a mechanical owl is gripping her in his claws, cawing to Sonic behind him as Sonic takes him down with the help of another freed God and his accompanying creature.

“So, I guess this means you would have come on time if it weren’t for all these things, right?” She raises an eyebrow, trying to make sure she’s understanding this as some ancients stand below them and seem to bow down in worship to Sonic, who just saved their stories.

Sonic looks over them but only sheepishly smiles, folding his arms before turning to Amy.

“Wait… what just happened?” She looks around, but Sonic scoops her up again and dives into a portal, as they’re suddenly out of the Myth book and laying down on a couch.

“Nothing important.” Sonic shrugs, taking a bite out of an apple, as Amy is suddenly aware she’s wearing a greek robe, with a bowl of fruits in her hands, and a golden lace of leafs as a crown.

“..H-huh?” she suddenly becomes aware of her surroundings as Sonic pulls the bowl towards him, having her on top of him while he lounges. “Basically, you’re right.” he winked, and then continued as he ate a grape. “And as a God, I should probably keep my promises more. So, yeah. I’ll take you back to the heavens sometime.” he nonchalantly ate his meal before putting the bowl down and flicking Amy’s crown.

“You realize those ancients think you’re a Goddess too, right?”

“W-wa-wait, WHAT!?” Amy stuttered, as the crown tilted slightly on her face.

He chuckled, seeing she was too focused in her thoughts to experience the real adventure around her, and adjusted the crown on her head.

“Yeah, I told them you were a mortal I picked up, saved, and then told them I was bringing you back into my world with me.” he lowered his hands, looking at her before sighing a moment and scratching the back of his head.

“Sadly, they misinterpreted this.”

“What?” Amy looked down at the book he was staring at.

Opening it up, she read the last page.

“The Blue, Holy Hedgehog then took his Mortal Woman to the land beyond. And there, it is said they lived out eternity in one another’s arms. Surrounded by music, love, and all things holy.”

Amy blushed, “Holy Hedgehog?”

He put the book down, “Yeah, weird imaginations these people have, huh?”

“W-wai-wait! They think you-!” She turned to point to Sonic, startled, before turning to the book, “T-That we’re-!”

He smiled, “Guess I can’t help it.” Sonic kicked up his feet, putting an arm around the back of the couch, and grinning from ear to ear. “I like my mortal woman.”

He laughed, as Amy hit him in the face with her hammer.

“Careful there, HOLY Hedgehog.” she twitched an eyebrow, before smiling and removing the hammer, looking smugly in her place.

Goddesses have quite the temper.”

(I thought it was cute XD It’s an AU concept but I tried to keep it in Character. Sonic isn’t one to just come out and say it, but if you read enough into it, you’ll get that they think Sonic and Amy are like Hercules and Meg. He took her cause he loved her XD)

neothoron  asked:

Hello, you mention in your ask about Renly's manipulative cruelty that Mace Tyrell is actually shrewder than he appears. What makes you say that? Does that imply that Olenna's description of him as an oaf is an act put up for Sansa? Do you think he had a conscious part in the Purple Wedding?

Hiya! I’m so sorry this is so long in coming; a bunch of people asked on this topic, so I wanted to put something full-length together.

When people talk about The Quotes from ASOIAF, the ones that are basically GRRM dropping the veil and telling us how he thinks and feels about his subject matter, there’s this one from Varys that comes up a lot:

“Power resides where men believe it resides.”

And there’s a lot of political and Plato’s-cave truth to that. But there’s an equally relevant and powerful flipside to this trope: the power that can be achieved by deflecting attention, by appearing unimportant, shallow, secondary, a figurehead. In short, the tremendous upside to be exploited in being constantly underestimated.

For me, no character exemplifies this trope better than Mace Tyrell, that pompous, overwrought boob…who is currently serving as the Hand of the King, which is exactly what he has been trying to accomplish the entire time. Mace commands by far the largest armies in Westeros, and has acted at every turn to preserve them, committing to battle only at the Blackwater, where he was bolstered by Tywin’s forces and needed to prove his loyalty to the new regime, and at Duskendale, where his opponents had been set up to fail by their own commander (Roose Bolton, another man happy to be underrated). Where Tywin begins the war by rampaging around the Riverlands to work through his shame about Tyrion’s kidnapping (until Robb turns up and promptly makes him look like an idiot, so then that much more shame to slaughter civilians over), and Stannis begins the war by painstakingly preparing a list of reasons why his life sucks and everyone’s mean and he hates them (I love him so much because he’s a sullen, lonely kid forlornly kicking at empty plastic bags in the corner of the schoolyard), Mace begins the war like an adult. Specifically, he cuts off food supplies to King’s Landing.

Now, Renly is usually credited with or blamed for the strategy of moving his army deliberately slowly toward King’s Landing, but note that when Stannis threatens Storm’s End, Renly moves extremely quickly–in fact, too quickly:

Ned would surely have prevailed upon Robert to bring up his whole force, to encircle Stannis and besiege the besiegers. That choice Renly had denied himself in his headlong rush to come to grips with his brother. He had outdistanced his supply lines, left food and forage days behind with all his wagons and mules and oxen. He must come to battle soon, or starve.

So it seems more likely that Mace was responsible for this slow pace, with the primary goal (as we see through Tyrion’s POV) of starving the people of King’s Landing to the point of rebelling against Joffrey, a cruel but clever stratagem that came very close to working. When the Tyrells then ally with the Lannisters, they flood King’s Landing with food, winning the support of the people even though the Tyrells were the ones who cut off supplies to begin with:

“The Tyrells have been carting food up from Highgarden and giving it away in her name. Hundreds of wayns each day. There’s thousands of Tyrell men swaggering about with little golden roses sewn on their doublets, and not a one is buying his own wine. Wife, widow, or whore, the women are all giving up their virtue to every peach-fuzz boy with a gold rose on his teat.”

They spit on me, and buy drinks for the Tyrells.

Those bolded words of Tyrion’s sum up perfectly how well the Tyrells have played the commons relative to the Lannisters. Littlefinger’s upcoming embargo (as revealed in the recent “Alayne” chapter) will only ramp up the political leverage Mace has wielded throughout the series via Reach resources and exports.

Mace also managed to avoid ever alienating the Starks and Tullys, and so is not hated by the Young Wolf’s former supporters, a significant accomplishment given that they seem poised to wipe Houses Bolton and Frey off the face of Terros. Indeed, successful political maneuvering is as much about avoiding disastrous mistakes as securing ambitious triumphs; Lord Mace excels at this, which is why he’s been able to jump from Renly to Joffrey to Tommen, sacrificing remarkably little and picking up Brightwater Keep in the bargain. Hell, as Tyrion points out, he even left the door open to joining Team Robb should the Lannisters prove troublesome:

Bloody fool, thought Tyrion. “Sweet sister,” he explained patiently, “offend Tyrell and you offend Redwyne, Tarly, Rowan, and Hightower as well, and perhaps start them wondering whether Robb Stark might not be more accommodating of their desires.”

Note Tyrion’s construction here; Tyrell’s vassals take their cues from the Fat Flower, not the other way around. When Randyll Tarly and Mathis Rowan talk in council, this is what I hear:

Ser Kevan was his brother’s vanguard in council, Tyrion knew from long experience; he never had a thought that Lord Tywin had not had first. It has all been settled beforehand, he concluded, and this discussion’s no more than show.

(I know Kevan thinks Tarly’s the real danger, but Kevan also thinks Cersei is permanently cowed, so he’s not necessarily the most insightful guy.)

Mace Tyrell has spent the entire story steadily accumulating both hard and soft power, and nobody seems to notice, because unlike his mother or his daughter, he doesn’t fit the archetype of a classic political manipulator. If there is an unambiguous winner in the Game of Thrones so far, still standing amidst all the bodies, it is the Warden of the South…and yet it’s hard not to laugh at him when he does stuff like this:

The new King’s Hand was seated on an oaken throne carved in the shape of a hand, an absurd vanity his lordship had produced the day Ser Kevan agreed to grant him the office he coveted.

But the terrifying thing to consider is that he is not desperately compensating by making himself a Hand-Throne; he is, instead, deadly serious. (How long ago did he have that chair made, to have it ready on the spot?) Mace Tyrell intends to rule King’s Landing for the foreseeable future, and Varys and his little birds have made that immeasurably easier for him.

So, why do I credit all this to Mace specifically? It’s become a near-consensus that Lady Olenna is the true power in Highgarden, to the point I’ve actually seen people refer to House Tyrell as “matriarchal,” which is one hell of a misread. Highgarden is not Sunspear. The Tyrells are not the Mormonts (more’s the pity; all our lives are brighter with Lyanna Mormont in charge of the Bear Island letterhead). The Reach is the epicenter of feudal patriarchy in Westeros; Mace commands the armies, controls the resources, and makes the marriage contracts, not Olenna. We’ve seen this with Catelyn, Cersei, Lysa: noble women of patriarchal houses can exercise enormous power, but they do so through their sons, and Mace is no Sweetrobin. Don’t get me wrong, Olenna is unquestionably a strong influence on Mace’s decision-making, it’s just in an advisory capacity. Sure, she changes his mind on some questions (most notably on whether to wed Loras to Cersei), but Davos changes Stannis’ mind on the biggest question of all (who he’s really fighting for, and why); this doesn’t make Stannis any less responsible for the decision to sail North.

I would argue that Olenna’s storyline actually subtly demonstrates the enormous passive power Mace Tyrell wields in the realm, and has since at least Robert’s Rebellion (more on that in a moment). I think A Storm of Swords sets that up perfectly: Olenna isn’t Mace’s puppet master, she’s his assassin. I absolutely believe he knew about the Purple Wedding, because Olenna would be taking a frankly unbelievable risk by acting on her own. If she is discovered, she’s going to need Mace’s protection, which he can only effectively accomplish if he knows about it beforehand. As one of the judges, he can direct the investigation away from his family, which he does by repeatedly reminding his fellow judges that Margaery could’ve easily been poisoned as well.

Olenna’s dialogue is largely concerned with the limits of her power within the Tyrell household, and how the ultimate strategic authority rests with her son.

“Should you ever have a son, Sansa, beat him frequently so he learns to mind you. I only had the one boy and I hardly beat him at all, so now he pays more heed to Butterbumps than he does to me. A lion is not a lap cat, I told him, and he gives me a ‘tut-tut Mother.’ There is entirely too much tut-tutting in this realm, if you ask me. All these kings would do a deal better if they would put down their swords and listen to their mothers.

It was Mace who controlled the information within the Tyrell Conspiracy, as Olenna didn’t know about the Lannister twincest until he told her:

“It’s treason, I warned them, Robert has two sons, and Renly has an older brother, how can he possibly have any claim to that ugly iron chair? Tut-tut, says my son, don’t you want your sweetling to be queen?”

It was Mace who pushed the family ambitions forward, not Olenna:

“We should have stayed well out of all this bloody foolishness if you ask me, but once the cow’s been milked there’s no squirting the cream back up her udder. After Lord Puff Fish put that crown on Renly’s head, we were into the pudding up to our knees, so here we are to see things through.”

Nor is book!Margaery actually obsessed with the crown, per Littlefinger:

“We shall have another wedding soon, wait and see. Margaery will marry Tommen. She’ll keep her queenly crown and her maidenhead, neither of which she especially wants, but what does that matter?”

Couple of quick things: one could argue that Olenna is being falsely humble to Sansa in the same way that I’m arguing Mace is doing writ large. But Olenna really has no reason to lie to Sansa about any of this; Sansa’s expectations and perceptions are not politically influential (although Alayne is a different matter), and Olenna is mining Sansa for information in this scene, not trying to sow misinformation of her own. Also, note the limitations of Olenna’s hands-off mantra:

“If truth be told, even our claim to Highgarden is a bit dodgy, just as those dreadful Florents are always whining. ‘What does it matter?’ you ask, and of course it doesn’t, except to oafs like my son.”

Well, Mace has to care about that sort of thing, because it’s the source of his legitimacy in the Reach. If he can put a grandson on the Iron Throne, he’ll have secured his authority back home from the likes of the Florents…and indeed, as soon as the Blackwater was done, Mace used his new access to the Iron Throne’s power to bring Brightwater Keep under direct Tyrell jurisdiction.

Mace’s go-to move, one which (again) he has in common with Roose Bolton, is to hoard his resources while allowing/encouraging his ostensible allies to self-destruct, counting on being the one with the most soldiers and food in the end. His primary war aim in Robert’s Rebellion wasn’t to defend the Targaryen regime (he neither joined Rhaegar at the Trident, nor defended King’s Landing from Tywin), it was to occupy the Stormlands. And he would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for young Stannis’ iron resolve and inspiring leadership (bullshit “Stannis isn’t charismatic,” uncharismatic men don’t hold a starving garrison together for that long; the king’s men and queen’s men alike have followed him to Storm’s End, the Blackwater, the Wall, Winterfell, through fire and ice, the odds against them every time, roaring his name. No Baratheon is uncharismatic, there are laws on this.)

Mace’s siege wasn’t just a landgrab conducted under the pretense of loyalty to the crown, however; if Stannis had yielded, Mace could’ve broken Robert’s cause in the same way Theon broke Robb’s. What kind of king loses his castle, especially to Lord Puff Fish (or Theon, for fuck’s sake)?

But Mace never gave Robert Baratheon cause to kill him if (when, as it turns out) the rebel lord won, although the still-Warden of the South certainly committed himself to a lifelong campaign to keep Stannis off the Throne, which helps explain his willingness to join Team Joffrey after Renly’s death. Mace kept his titles, his land, his soft power. And when Renly came to him with the news that Cersei’s children were not Robert’s, Mace plotted with Renly to replace Cersei with Margaery and put a half-Tyrell on the Iron Throne, cementing Highgarden as the political powerhouse of the realm. As mentioned above, Mace commits himself to this plan before informing Olenna, telling her only to keep the family united in pursuit of a common end (which, again, is why I cannot believe Olenna would take the hugely risky step of murdering the king without getting her lord’s consent…or more likely, she was following his orders in doing so. Like she said, she wanted nothing to do with any of these assholes, but Mace tut-tutted, and that was that.)  

So what’s next on Mace’s agenda? Control the small council, get Margaery through her trial, and protect Highgarden from the Crow’s Eye. I’ve no doubt he’ll accomplish the first two, but the third is going to become very perilous very quickly (especially if I’m right in thinking Euron gets a dragon). Cersei’s already demonstrated how many fucks she gives about defending the Reach (between zero and let me check oh also zero how weird); moreover, she may very well break the alliance for good by sending Robert Strong after Margaery. So Mace Tyrell is going to yet again be in the market for a new client-king…and lo and behold, like an answered prayer, there’s one down at Storm’s End, and his first choice for Hand has, ah, a hand problem…

goodqueenalys  asked:

top 6 fics you have written?!

wow thank you for this ask!! I decided to do three chaptered fics and three one offs but while i was writing this i realised i really have a problem with how many arranged marriage AUs i do

It is natural for them to seek comfort in each other’s arms, for two Starks are stronger than one. And as he whispers to her each night, when she awakens with fear clawing through her and his face fresh in her mind, the lone wolf may die, but the pack survives.

“I have made my decision and I do not plan on being swayed.“ Said King Joffrey. He seemed to be enjoying the rapt attention the chamber was paying him and fawned in it like an animal in the warmth of the sun. "Think of it as irony. Your family has accused mine of incest and now you shall be whispered about for the same reason.” 

She had heard the whispers of the true Northern folk. What they were. (Vampire AU)

When the Dragon Queen ends her siege upon King’s Landing and takes Westeros under her command it is shared with the Targaryen Prince that she is unable to produce an heir. Instead it is decided that Jon Snow will choose an honourable, trustworthy woman to bear a child and continue the Targaryen bloodline. The choice is immediate. 

Her father let out a long sigh. "Your birthday is in two days.” he said, his eyes hard. “After that you will have a fortnight to be married before the crown will officially appoint a husband to you." 

Written for the prompt: "Sansa is frustrated because she can’t masturbate,and then she asks for Jon’s help.”

 Masks of Magic Musings

Masks of Magic was a very interesting episode, and while not my favorite episode by a long shot, I feel like this is one of the most thought provoking episodes in regards to character development and understanding character motivations. This episode also has the most potential for controversy among the fandom when it comes to interpreting who did what and why and who was right or wrong. Did that make sense to you? Yeah, I didn’t think so–– because this stuff is confusing!

So before we jump into analyzing every little thing, I would like to point out that this episode was not about who did things the right way and who did things the wrong way. Both Elena and Doña Paloma had valid approaches to trade negotiations and if they’re smart they’ll learn to work together to find a good balance between the two approaches in the future. I honestly believe that the big lesson of this episode was taking the time to understand the motivations of your rival–– you may come to realize that they’re not so different from yourself.

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French Perfume Part 7

Crowley X Reader

Summary: Female reader receives a package from an admirer.   She also learns about her special gifts.

Warnings: angst, language

Catch up: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Your​ head swam with panic. “Oh God, No!” You held Crowley’s unconscious frame in your arms unsure of what to do. Shit, you didn’t even remember where you were. He had bounced all over the world tonight. Remember, Remember, (Y/N), you thought. You ran to the dresser and looked at the hotel note pad, you were in some swanky hotel in Kansas City. Great, you weren't​ far from the bunker but you didn’t have a car and trying to steal one, that would just take too long.
A thousand thoughts raced through your mind. You bundled up yours and his clothes and ran back to the bed. Shit, your magic hadn’t worked yet but you were desperate, now that Crowley’s life was in your hands.  

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A detailed account of the coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth from their daughter, Princess Elizabeth (future Queen Elizabeth II). 1937.

Full transcription:

Title page: The Coronation, 12th May, 1937. To Mummy and Papa, in memory of their Coronation, from Lilibet by Herself.

An account of the Coronation.

At 5 o'clock in the morning I was woken up by the band of the Royal Marines striking up just outside my window. I leapt out of bed and so did Bobo. We put on dressing gowns and shoes and Bobo made me put on an eiderdown as it was so cold and we crouched in the window looking into a cold, misty morning.

There were already some people in the stands and all the time people were coming to them in a stream with occasional pauses in between.

Every now and then we were hopping in and out of bed looking at the bands and the soldiers. At six o'clock Bobo got up and instead of getting up at my usual time I jumped out of bed at half-past seven. When I was going to the bathroom I passed the lift, as usual, and who should walk out but Miss Daly! I was very pleased to see her. When I dressed I went into the nursery and Margaret Elphinstone, who came to breakfast, was waiting there. We did not eat very much as we were too excited. After we had finished we looked out of the window until it was time to get dressed. We saw the Canadian Mounted Police in their red coats and once when a policeman went by on his bicycle, everyone cheered!

When we were dressed we showed ourselves to the visitors and the housemaids. Now I shall try and give you a description of our dresses.

They were white silk with old cream lace and had little gold bows all the way down the middle. They had puffed sleeves with one little bow in the centre. Then there were the robes of purple velvet with gold on the edge.

We went along to Mummy’s bedroom and we found her putting on her dress. Papa was dressed in a white shirt, breeches and stockings, and over this he wore a crimson satin coat. Then a page came and said it was time to go down, so we kissed Mummy, and wished her good luck and went down. There was said “Good Morning” to Aunt Alice, Aunt Marina and Aunt Mary with whom we were to drive to the Abbey. We were then told to get into the carriage. When we got in we still had to wait a few minutes and then our carriage moved from the door. At first it was very jolty but we soon got used to it. We went round the Memorial, down the Mall, through Admiralty Arch, along Whitehall, past the Cenotaph and the Horse Guards’ Parade, and then Westminster Abbey. When we got out we were welcomed by the Duke of Norfolk, the Event Marshall.

We waited in the little dressing room until it was time to go up the aisle. Then we arranged ourselves to form the procession. First of all came the Heralds, then two Gentleman Ushers, then all in a line, Margaret, Aunt Mary and myself. When we got to the Theatre we sat down and waited for Queen Mary’s procession. Grannie looked too beautiful in a gold dress patterned with golden flowers. Then we went up the steps and into the box. There we sat down and waited about half-an-hour until Mummy’s procession began. Then came Papa looking very beautiful in a crimson robe and the Cap of State.

Then the service began.

I thought it all very, very wonderful and I expect the Abbey did, too. The arches and beams at the top were covered with a sort of haze and wonder as Papa was crowned, at least I thought so.

When Mummy was crowned and all the peeresses put on their coronets it looked wonderful to see arms and coronets hovering in the air and then the arms disappear as if by magic. Also the music was lovely and the band, the orchestra and the new organ all played beautifully. 

What struck me as being rather odd was that Grannie did not remember much of her own Coronation. I should have thought that it would have stayed in her mind for ever.

At the end the service got rather boring as it was all prayers. Grannie and I were looking to see how many more pages to the end, and we turned one more and then I pointed to the word at the bottom of the page and it said ‘Finis.’ We both smiled at each other and turned back to the service.

After Papa had passed we were all shivering because there was a most awful draught coming from somewhere, so we were glad to get out of the box. Then we went down the aisle, first a gentleman I did not know, then Margaret and myself and then Grannie. When we got back to our dressing room we had some sandwiches, stuffed rolls, orangeade and lemonade. Then we left for our long drive.

On leaving the Abbey, we went along the Embankment, Northumberland Avenue, through Trafalgar, St. James St., Piccadilly, Regent St., Oxford St. with Selfridge’s lovely figures,  through Marble Arch, through Hyde Park, Hyde Park Corner, Constitution Hill, round the Memorial and into the courtyard.

Then we went up to the corridor to see the Coach coming in. Then Mummy and Papa came up and said “Good morning” and were congratulated. Then we all went on the Balcony where millions of people were waiting below. After that we all went to be photographed in front of those awful lights.

When we sat down to tea it was nearly six o'clock! When I got in to bed my legs ached terribly. As my head touched the pillow I was asleep and I did not wake up till nearly eight o'clock the next morning. 

They should, Narvin thinks, have a great deal to say to one another, when they aren’t going to have the chance to say anything ever again.  And yet silence falls over the console room almost immediately, the three of them sitting all in a row, on the floor, backs up against the wall.

It should bother Narvin, when Ace’s head falls onto his shoulder.  Instead, he finds himself putting his arm around her shoulder, and, for a moment, leaning his cheek against the crown of her head.  And then he says to hell with ‘for a moment’, and leaves it there.

He listens to Ace’s breathing, until it shallows and evens out.  He has no idea how she can possibly sleep, under these circumstances, but he’s happy for her–and not just because it will make their oxygen last longer.  He feels so… so fond toward her.  She deserves the privilege of dying in her sleep.

On his other side, Romana’s fingers just brush against Narvin’s hand.

He lifts his head, and turns to look at her.  Her spine is straight.  Her eyes are clear as they meet his.  And she deserves to die that way, too, and he is glad.  That isn’t why his insides are a sudden wrung-out mess of hurt.

“Romana,” he whispers, “I…”

“Oh, don’t,” she cuts him off, in the same hush–not angry or commanding, only sad.  “Not now.  It is such a cliche.”

But she lifts his hand and guides it until it cups her cheek, and then slides it back into her hair.  She leaves her own hand atop his, fingers nestled over fingers.  And she touches her forehead against his, nudges their noses together, and closes her eyes.

It isn’t actually the prelude to anything.  It is the destination itself, and all the better for that.  They stay, that warm and that close.  He cannot imagine a better death than this: one arm around the surrogate daughter he never deserved, and the other holding the Time Lady who means everything.

And then the sound of materialization groans to life around him, and Romana’s  eyes fly open just before she vanishes from under his hand.


Audrey x Evie (Sleeping Queen? Audvie? Chemistry Princess?)   

For Anon

(gifs belong to dovesmitchell deepestsaladshark)

Rating: PG

Notes: You guys can choose what ship name I’ll use in my tags from now on. Just pick one of the ones listed up above and send me a message with your pick, the one with the most wins. Or if there is already a ship name message me what it is!

Notes2: For the anon that wanted this I might have changed a few things. So it’s not exactly like you wanted it but I hope it’s okay.

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The Crown weighs heavy (Ch.12)

Pairing: NeganxReader

Rating: M

Chapters: 12/?

A/N: Merry Christmas!!! lol I didn’t think I’d be updating so soon :) So I am happy I can.

HEADS UP. This chapter has some smut. (No not between ‘you’ and Negan haha) But, if that’s not your thing (it has woman on woman briefly) skip like the last few paragraphs lol

As always, please comment if you can! Next update should be around tues-thurs

Master List

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Beta AU. Star Sapphire, again. 

With the combination of extreme age (she predates her own diamond and was a gift to BD from WD) and a spotty, probability-dependent clairvoyance, she should have gotten lost in her own head and frozen hundreds of millennia ago. She’s just one of those old women who hung on long after everyone around them died, and refuses to kick the bucket through sheer force of will. 

I generally put little thought to gem placement when I design an oc, but in this case, the placement of her gem at the top of her head is intentional. This represents the crown chakra, which is responsible for several levels of concentration. With her, the dharana (the “holding on” stage of meditation, or consciousness of the act of meditation) is generally where she stops and refrains from going any further. 

anonymous asked:

Do you think Cersei is a good mother?

I hate this idea I see in fandom that just because a woman has children and apparently loves them (ha… I’ll talk about Cersei and her “love” for them later) then that automatically means they’re a good mother. I’m sorry. but unfortunately I know a lot of mothers who love their children but are shit at mothering.

Anyway, do I think Cersei is a good mother?

In the books (and to even some degree the show), considering she enabled the evil acts of her oldest son, spoiled him, and then put him on a pedestal should be enough to say that she’s nowhere close to being a good mother. And then we have this Tommen scene:

AFFC Jaime I

Tommen turned his head and doubled over, retching. His crown fell off and rolled across the marble floor. His mother pulled back in disgust, and all at once the king was running for the doors, as fast as his eight-year-old legs could carry him.

An eight year old boy is trying to kneel before the rotting body of his dead grandfather and he can’t take it, so he throws up. Instead of being nurturing and sympathetic she “pulled back in disgust.”

Who has the nurturing and parental reaction instead?  

“Ser Osmund, relieve me,” Jaime said sharply, as Kettleblack turned to chase the crown. He handed the man the golden sword and went after his king.

and then

“A man can bear most anything, if he must,” Jaime told his son. I have smelled a man roasting, as King Aerys cooked him in his own armor. “The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing . . . go away inside.

Instead of making him feel like shit and yelling at him for having a bad reaction, Jaime sympathizes with his son and gives him advice, which is how Cersei should have reacted.

Tommen considered that. “I … I used to go away inside sometimes,” he confessed, “when Joffy …”

“Joffrey.” Cersei stood over them, the wind whipping her skirts around her legs. “Your brother’s name was Joffrey. He would never have shamed me so.”

Tommen implies Joffrey has made his life hell and what does Cersei do? She tells Tommen that he brings her shame by comparing him to Joffrey I mean what... and it makes it worse that he’s only eight.

You can put a check mark next to emotional abuse.  

“Do you think he smelled any sweeter to me? I have a nose too.” She caught his ear and pulled him to his feet.

And (imo) physical abuse

“Lord Tyrell has a nose. Did you see him retching in the holy sept? Did you see Lady Margaery bawling like a baby?”

And back to emotional abuse.

I mean, if that wasn’t clear enough how shit she treats him GRRM then put this in

Jaime got to his feet. “Cersei, enough.”

And then we have show!Cersei who murdered her son’s wife and her entire family. She destroyed his life (LITERALLY) because her life, what she wanted, and her hatred for Marg and the HS was more important than her son being happy and in love. Her selfish actions then pushed him to commit suicide.

“But she could have been saving him from the Faith”

she unnecessarily killed his wife, wiped out a House, and took out hundreds of innocents while she sipped her wine and enjoyed the scene. No, that was all about Cersei.

Such a good and loving mother. Which brings me to my next point.

Not only do I think Cersei is a shit mother, but I also 100% disagree with anyone who says she genuinely loves her children (yes I’m staring at you D&D). Honestly this all comes down to how we each define love, which is why this is open for debate and isn’t a canon fact, despite what any writer or author says. (Ex: Stephenie Meyer says Bella and Edward are true love but their toxic dynamic does not fit into my definition of “true love” in the slightest. How we define love is personal and varies by our own perceptions.)

In my definition of genuine love, the biggest aspect is being able to perform selfless acts and make sacrifices.

Tell me one time Cersei has set aside her own agenda for the happiness of her children? (And don’t tell me her refusal to marry Jaime because I’ll rip that to shreds.) Tell me one time Cersei did something that, in the end, wasn’t a move to gain power?

I’ll wait.

I love my grey characters, fuck I do. The greyer the better. I’m usually the person with “problematic favs.” Cersei is grey (like.. a very dark shade of grey) but her relationship with her children is not what makes her grey, her past is. Cersei loves her children in a narcissistic way, not a motherly or genuine one. If we were supposed to see her with the capability of selfless motherly love we would have seen that in the books, but so far I see no evidence to suggest that her love for anyone is anything but self serving. Therefore, I have to conclude that she sees them as herself, since they were conceived by her and her twin - a person who she views as an extension of herself. They are her. They are also her tools for power.

If Cersei were to have a child that came out looking like Tyrion, with one hand, etc. do you honestly believe she’d love that child and treat him or her kindly?

So… on the show Cersei is just queen in her own right?

If she just dropped dead, wouldn’t Tyrion be her heir? Jaime having sworn off crowns and lands and such?

Does that mean Arya could make her sister queen by taking a name off her list? I am asking for a friend? Or did Littlefinger have S/T’s marriage annulled by the Faith?

Cuz I think she should do that, then Dany could put aside her conquering until the Long Night is over. It would save people a lot of trouble it seems.