throne move

Imagine Caius and Athenodora adopting you. (Caius Volturi X Reader)

Caius and Athenodora adopt a child.

Originally posted by imaginesfortwilight


Originally posted by accolalove


Originally posted by snowburrito

You stood with Carlisle in the middle of the throne room. Your hand tightly holding his. You were uncertain, shy, you needed time to comprehend what was happening. “Everything on the human end is taken care of.” Carlisle said with a small smile lifting your hands gesturing to the scowling blonde. “They’re yours.” The blonde mans scowl began to fade into startled disbelief. He slowly got up from his throne and moved down the stairs toward the middle of the room. He knelt on one knee in front of you, his eyes glued to you. Carlisle looked down at you and gestured to Caius with his hand that was connected to yours. “It’s okay, this is daddy.” You looked up suddenly at Carlisle, you knew that word and didn’t notice the small gasp Caius made at your response. You slowly pointed meekly at Caius. “Daddy?” Carlisle nodded. You slowly took a few steps forward within arm’s reach of Caius. He slowly lifted his hand as to not scare you and gently moved your hair from your face, brushing it back, ignoring the small knots and lifting his fingers away, leaving them undisturbed. The cool air hit your face and you took another step forward. You looked at him one last time before leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his shoulders leaning in for a hug. Caius’ cold hand rubbed your back the other returning the hug. He was taken aback at how you clung to him tightly as though he’d disappear.

Not long later Caius was walking you down a different hall, your young age didn’t take well to the long narrow hallway so after a short time you were grabbing at Caius. A smile grew on his face as he bent down and lifted you bridal style. You squirmed in discomfort in his arms. “What? Isn’t this how I hold a four year old?” Caius said looking at Demetri and Felix with a knowing smile. “No!” You squeaked continuing to struggle. “Oh…is it perhaps like this? Surely this is how I hold you…” Caius said swinging your legs over his shoulder holding you upside down. “No!” You squealed. “It’s not?” Caius said in ‘confusion’. “I’ll show you!” “You show me.” Caius smiled lowering you to a stand. Once your feet were planted on the ground you raised your arms and Caius lifted you to his hip. “Oh this is how? I’ve never had a four year old before.” Caius said in ‘awe’. “Where are we going?” “To meet your mother.” Caius said looking at you.

Across the room was two chairs. One had its back to you and the other wasn’t the side. A woman with black hair turned to you as Caius’ hand rested on the top of your head, softly working his fingers through your hair. The woman with black hair and red lips smiled in amusement before looking at the chair beside her.

You couldn’t see the blonde sitting in the other chair. Her eyes were wide, she was softly inhaling in disbelief despite no need for air. Her face broke into a whirlwind of emotion, as though she could have cried. “Athenodora, come meet our child.” Caius said softly. After a few moments of silence she slowly rose coming into your view with her back still turned. The woman had long, blonde, spiraling hair running down her back, two pieces of hair pinned back. “Yes, Athenodora, that is what you think it is. Now get a move on.” The dark haired woman rolled her eyes, she was eager to see the meeting. The blonde slowly exhaled moving between the chairs and slowly moving toward you. Caius’ soft movements on your hair kept you calm. It was clear you weren’t sure of what was going on.

Athenodora struggled to find the will to lift her gaze from the floor. She was riddled with fear, fear of finally getting what she had always wanted and to lay eyes on you, only for you to be ripped from her. If you were to leave her, she wanted to live these moments as long as she could. It was only her husband’s call that shook her from her ridiculous thought and she slowly, with hope, lifted her eyes from the floor. It was like slow motion. She saw your small boots, then your tiny legs… your tiny hands…small shoulders then- Athenodora gasped falling to her knees when she saw your face for the first time. It was as though an angel had graced her presence, as though a miracle appeared in front of her very eyes. Chelsea and Corin moved forward to help her but Caius stopped them. “Give her a minute. (Y/N)…(Y/N), this is your mother.“ Your blank expression showed you didn’t understand. “That’s mummy.” Corin said lightly to you, gesturing to Athenodora. Your eyes lit up understanding what was going on. “Mummy?” Athenodora gasped as you looked up at Caius for reassurance. He lightly nudged you forward. “Go and say hello.”

You staggered slightly within your first few steps but caught your balance. You stopped in front of her. Her skirts surrounding her. Athenodora stayed still before slowly brushing hair from your face. She waited for you to get comfortable. She didn’t rush you. Something told her to be patient. Surely enough you reached out. “Hi mummy…”. “Hello, sweetheart.” Athenodora managed out helping you reach her. You were conscious of her dress and so you couldn’t reach. She laughed slightly at your obvious ginger movements. She couldn’t care less about her dress at this moment. “It’s okay-” “I can’t reach, your dress is too big!” You leant down taking off your shoes, leaving you in your socks before jumping into Athenodora’s arms. “Oh my goodness!” She gasped with a grin, pulling you in for a hug. Your wrapped your legs around her waist. She straightened up whilst hugging you as Caius’ moved forward to meet you both.

Concept: a side scrolling action adventure game where you play as the Devil - except you’re like the classy, Vincent-Price-in-a-swishy-cape Devil. The muscle-bound, profanity-spewing, Todd-McFarlane-looking asshole Devil is the antagonist you have to beat in order to reclaim your throne. Your super move would turn the graphics monochrome and add simulated film grain like an old-timey horror movie.

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My shopping haul of posters from anime north 2017 im so sorry i dont know the artists for kanna and howl but I know the ones for the other posters

special thanks to Ca55i3 and IsuKouhai/SlimyMush who did those commissions for me and if i find the other artists i will tag them as well

pictures in order:
Yuri on ice - Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov by Ruri-dere
Seikaisuru Kado - Yaha-Kui Zashunina by IsuKouhai/SlimyMush
Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid - Kanna Kamui/Kanna Kobayashi
Howl’s Moving Castle - Howl Jenkins Pendragon and Calcifer
OC character by Koloromuj
Seikaisuru Kado - Yaha-Kui Zashunina by Ca55i3
Final Fantasy XV - Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladious Amicitia by Heartheartbaby
Kimi No Nawa - Mitsuha Miyamizu and Taki Tachibana by Kayapouf (Kaya Horiya)
Game Of Thrones - Danereys Targaryen by Koloromuj

Rhysand's Moving Castle??

Is it just me but when I think of Rhysand or ACOTAR/MAF I see similarities in Howl’s Moving Castle. I also think about the beast form that Rhysand hates.

Originally posted by derikisu

Originally posted by ghibli-forever

Originally posted by hope-descends

Originally posted by nanami92

Originally posted by tiredwitch

Originally posted by deathmery

3

Queer Profile: Queen Kristina of Sweden

Born December 8, 1626 in Stockholm, Sweden, Queen Kristina inherited the throne at the age of six when her father died in battle. Being the only heir, her father instructed that she be educated as a prince. One of the first things she achieved during her reign, was putting an end to the Thirty Years’ War. Nicknamed Minerva of the North, after the Roman equivalent of the Greek god of wisdom, Kristina valued education and philosophy. She showed these values in her determination to improve the education of peasants. Thanks to her rule; Sweden first began to publish newspapers and the first school system was started. Advancements in science and the enjoyment of literature and the arts were fully supported by Queen Kristina. She carried one of the greatest collections of books, paintings, and sculptures. While Queen of Sweden, Kristina chose her own ladies-in-waiting and it is believed she had an affair with one of them, Countess Ebba Sparre, whom she nicknamed “Belle” (pictured bottom left). Their intimacy is proved through the many letters passed between them. Ebba Sparre was reportedly given the title of the queen’s “Bed Fellow.” Their relationship ended soon after Countess Sparre was married and left Kristina’s court, but their letters continued. Kristina also was believed to have had affairs with women by the names of Gabrielle de Rochechouart de Mortemart, Rachel Teixeira, and Angelina Giorgino, but she later reflected in her memoirs that Ebba was the only real love of her life. Despite the urging of her court for her to produce an heir to the throne, Queen Kristina refused to marry throughout her 10 year reign of Sweden. Instead she appointed her cousin Charles X Gustav to be her heir. She immediately abdicated the throne and moved to Rome, Italy following her baptism into Catholicism. In Rome, she founded the Arcadia Academy (Accademia dell’Arcadia) and urged that the first public house of opera, Tordinona, be opened.

The Man Who Can't Be Moved [Sandor Clegane Imagine]

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved

Sandor Clegane Imagine; Game of Thrones

- - -

You looked around at the royal court of King’s Landing. As a Lannister, you were expected to live in the Capital… and marry a suitor. However, your family didn’t seem to notice how spent your time with your nephew’s appointed guard.

Sandor Clegane didn’t meet your family’s standards at all, but he completely exceeded your own in every possible way. He was absolutely perfect in your eyes. Your love for him only grew when he asked for your hand a fortnight ago. In secret, the two of you began making arrangements to leave King’s Landing to go farther south. That all stopped when you entered the throne room. It was there you saw multiple people sitting at a table. A man stood with your father.

The man held out a hand, which you completely ignored. Tywin, your father, glared at you for doing so. You noticed Sandor standing in a corner of the room, his expression telling you not to worry. Despite this, you could see directly through him as he watched the interaction silently. Tywin’s voice drew you from your thoughts:

“…has asked for your hand in marriage.”

“No,” you stated, knowing where the conversation was going to lead. You could feel every person in the room hold their own breath when you spoke.

Tywin glared, “And why not?”

“There’s someone else,” you answered. In this situation, you had nothing else to say.

“Someone else? How dare you–!”

The unknown man interrupted Tywin this time. He had a smirk on his face; this only made you despise him even more. It was clear he thought he could easily impress you.

“Now, Lannister, I’m sure we can settle this. Perhaps this man can be notified, so he may step forward. He can prove his worth,” he sneered.

“This is ridiculous!” exclaimed your sister, Cersei.

“Silence, Cersei,” demanded Tywin, not taking his eyes away from you. “We shall see which man is better. The decision will be left to fate… a decision by combat. Send for him.”

Everyone stared as you didn’t move from your spot. All eyes, instead, turned in the direction of moving armor. Sandor moved to stand behind you, one hand on your shoulder, only for it to be covered by your own.

“I believe you already know him,” you said.

Tywin glared more harshly at you this time, and seethed, “The Hound? The man you speak of is the Hound?”

“I believe a decision will be made in an hour,” you stated, turning to leave the room.

As you and Sandor left the room, you made eye contact with the eyes of each of your siblings. Cersei was as livid as your father, Jaime was speechless, and Tyrion simply had a wide smirk upon his face. You ignored the faces of everyone else. You looked up at Sandor once you were both away from the others.

“Please, win,” you whispered.

Sandor nodded, “I always do, especially for you.”

An hour later, you were sitting between Jaime and Tyrion. Sandor and the man–who you now knew was of House Errol–approached their individual horses. Once fully prepared, Sandor approached the stand that seated you and the royal family. You stood from your seat and approached him; you could the eyes of every single spectator.

Sandor smiled at you through his helmet. You held a blue cloth in your hands. You tied the fabric around Sandor’s bicep; it was a symbol of good luck that would hopefully work. You returned to your seat between your brothers. Tyrion smirked at you, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I still can’t believe this,” he said, “the Hound of all the people in the world.”

“Don’t call him that,” you said. “Will you hold my hand? I’m nervous.”

“Of course,” replied Tyrion. You grasped his hand, wishing it was Sandor’s instead. You closed your eyes and only listened to the tournament.

When the loud noise of armor sounded throughout the air, you closed your eyes even tighter. This only lasted for a few minutes before you heard the crowd release a collective gasp. You opened your eyes to see Sandor standing alone, obviously the winner. You released Tyrion’s hand and descended from the stands. You ran to Sandor as quickly as you possibly could. You wrapped your arms around him in a hug, but his strong stature kept him from moving as he returned your hug.

You heard Tywin order his guards to take out their swords. Sandor climbed back onto his horse, reaching down for your hand. He pulled you up to sit behind him; you wrapped your arms around him as the horse began galloping away. The noise of your family, the guards, and the crowd faded away as the two of you made your way in the direction of the south, away from King’s Landing.

Originally posted by sandor-clegane-appspot

auricoma-deactivated20170720  asked:

I have trouble sympathizing with most of the characters in ASOIAF, because none of them represent an ideology I can get behind. Starks are better than Boltons, Stannis is better than Cersei, but they are all unelected hereditary authoritarians. When choosing between 1. Hitler, 2. Stalin and 3. Mussolini, I'd reluctantly go with Mussolini, but I'd much rather choose 4. LEAVE THE PLANET. I don't care who wins the game of thrones. The only winning move is not to play.

I totally get that. GRRM had Tyrion muse on the inherent backwardness of democracy for a reason; we’re never supposed to forget how these characters conceive of power. However, I don’t think that’s an appropriate analogy. Hitler became chancellor as a result of parliamentary politics in the wake of his party doing very well in an election, and none of those three can be called “hereditary” rulers. I’m not remotely saying that this makes popular elections a bad thing, just that I don’t think it’s wise to assume that elections will prevent monsters from rising to power. I’d also argue that it was a very, very good thing for Westeros and in particular the smallfolk of the North that Mance, who didn’t rely on heredity in the least to win his crown, got his ass kicked by Stannis, the avatar of hereditary rule. 

I would also push back on the idea that there are no values in Westeros’ social/political model worth defending: “I charge you to be brave, I charge you to be just, I charge you to defend the young and innocent.” Now, of course, The System itself often fails to reflect those values, but we do see individuals live up to them, and that’s an ideology I can get behind. Take Edmure, for example: “My people. They were afraid.” Or Brienne: “No chance, and no choice.” Or Dunk: “a knight who remembered his vows.” Or, perhaps above all, Davos: “a king protects his people, or he is no king at all.” 

And speaking of the onion knight, allow me to make the case for the one true king. He raised a peasant-born smuggler to knighthood and then lordship, consistently included him in his councils specifically to get the perspective of someone outside the nobility, and is prepared to “make new lords” alongside him. He not only rode to the defense of the realm when no other king would, but after defeating the wildlings so as to eliminate the immediate threat to the North, his next move was to welcome them through the Wall, believing it his duty to defend them from the Others. So, yeah, I too am not fond of hereditary monarchy as a system of governance. However, I think people often miss that Stannis possesses some genuinely radical politics, especially for someone in his position and with his background. Davos, of course, had to convince Stannis to sail to the Wall…but Davos was only in the position to do that because Stannis raised him up, and Stannis specifically made Davos his Hand because Davos will tell Stannis what he does not want to hear, but needs to. And this “a king who still cared” side of him is rooted in his empathy for the downtrodden and defenseless: “When I was a lad I found an injured goshawk and nursed her back to health. Proudwing, I named her.” The difference between that on the one hand, and Cersei and Tywin on the other, is significantly more than the difference between Hitler and Mussolini.

Finally, I don’t think “not playing” is actually an option. Every action is political. 

anonymous asked:

Sansa/Margaery prompt - Margaery gets shovel talks from the Starks (including Jon, maybe Theon too?)

Okay anon, first, I want to apologize that it has taken my nearly a year to answer this. Literally, the year make is in a few days and I have been trying to work on this fic the entire time but for some unknown reason I couldn’t make the words work. So, secondly, I apologize for the words here. They aren’t good but I hope the point still gets across. I don’t know why this prompt stumped me so much but I just had to post something at this point. I hope you are still around and still like it <3

Also: @nolongerbugging is now mostly inactive. I have moved to @youbuggingme. Feel free to come follow me there :)

Ao3 Fic Link: Not a Shovel Talk
Pairings
: Sansaery with minor/background throbb and jongritte
Summary:  Margaery and Sansa are now dating and it is time for the customary Stark Sibling Shovel Talks. Margaery isn’t that worried.


Bran

“So,” Bran prompted, eyeing the woman in front of him skeptically. “You and my sister are…dating, correct?”

Margaery nodded her head slowly, not daring to break eye contact knowing the exact direction this conversation would be going. “I am.”

 “Are you prepared?” Bran asked, cocking his head to the side as if to inspect her for any weakness. She straightened her shoulders accordingly.

Margaery carefully raised one eyebrow in questioning. “Elaborate.”

Bran smiled but it wasn’t kind, more…pitying. “You don’t think you are being cleared of shovel talks just because you’ve been Sansa’s friend for a few years, do you?”

Keep reading

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“And you said you always had my back, but how were we to know? That these are the days that bind you together, forever, and these little things define you forever. All this bad blood here, won’t you let it dry?”

Aesthetic Moodboard: Robb Stark + Theon Greyjoy (12/?)

@krrakenprince liked for a graphic based on our muses || not accepting

Arya Stark

“The wolf blood.” Arya remembered now. “I’ll be as strong as Robb. I said I would.” She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee. It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside. I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth.