#that her family at home fights to the death and she marches her own sister towards a different precipice

[isaacathom]

me, holding my primary ttrpg oc in my hands: im giving you so mcuh family trauma :)

[goldenseresinretriever]

The Devil To Pay: Prologue

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC

Summary: Cursed to wander the ocean, Bradley yearns to return to the life he once knew and the family that he had to leave behind. Immortality is a curse that keeps him frozen while the world moves on without him. When Davy Jones himself offers him the chance to break his curse, Bradley embarks on a journey across the seven seas hellbent on finding his way home. On the way he enlists the aid of a reluctant siren who has her own score to settle. They’re both willing to go the ends of the earth to reach their goals, but will it be enough?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, major character death, suggestive language.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: And we’re off!! Anchors away! I highly suggest listening to Ashley Serena’s cover of My Jolly Sailor Bold (quoted at the beginning of this chapter) before reading for optimal mood and vibe setting~

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“His hair, it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal, My happiness attend him wherever he may go. From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep, and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home”

Death. Death has always followed Bradley like a shadow, always hovering just out of sight, looming in his peripheral. His father, a sailor working on a trade vessel to support his family had been claimed by the sea he braved in a tragic accident, his body lost to the wreckage. He remembers the day in bits and pieces, the memory lost to time and his own brain trying to bury it alongside the rest of his childhood. He just remembers a masculine voice from the doorway, words unintelligible followed by an involuntary scream of anguish ripped from his mother’s lungs.

He doesn’t remember the funeral. He’s not sure there was one. There was no body to bury, after all. He’d heard the phrase watery grave before that, but after it became a brutal reality, he found himself giving the pier a wide berth, occasionally tossing an accusatory glare in its direction. For taking his father, claiming an innocent life, and leaving an unmendable hole in his family. As much as Bradley tried, a boy of seven who can hardly comprehend the concept of death can’t possibly hope to mend the broken heart of his mother, no matter how white-knuckled his grip and determined the set of his jaw. To her credit, his mother shed her tears and marched onward, determined to keep her children alive.

And for a while, she managed. She worked harder, trying to fill the financial void left by her husband’s death. They managed. They weren’t necessarily comfortable, but they weren’t destitute. But still, death lingered at their doorway. Hardly a year later, a sickness spread through their small fishing village on the coast of the Carolina. Many villagers fell ill, Bradley’s mother and younger sister amongst them. Bradley, fueled by fear and desperation, struggled to care for them, hoping his futile and childish attempts at medicine would pull through.

The last month is a muddled mess in his mind but he’ll never forget the last day. The house was filled with the stench of sickness, death drawn to their walls, peering hungrily through the shuttered windows. Bradley had long since given up wondering why he didn’t lay ill next to his mother and his sister. He simply sat between them, tending to their suffering the best that he could. He remembers the way his sister’s tiny hand felt in his, hardly four years old, and yet fighting with a strength that her body didn’t contain. Even now he can feel the way her desperate fingers gripped his, silently begging him not to leave, as if he would ever consider it. His mother had begged with a weak voice for him to run, to leave them, to save himself, but he had no such intention. A part of his mind was bitter, angry that he should sit healthy and well while they suffered at his side. But he knew that was well not so he could escape, but that he could stay and give them what little peace he could.

His sister’s eyes were red with sickness, swollen with tears of fear despite her stubborn muscles that fought to keep her chin from trembling. She knew what Bradley refused to believe. She was dying. She whimpered as she clung to her brother’s hand, eyes never leaving his, silently begging him not to let go. He’d squeezed back, as tightly as he could, trying to convey the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

When he opened his mouth to reassure her, all that had come out were huge, ugly sobs, pure grief for the living as they passed on before his eyes. He thinks his mother had laid her hand on his arm, a silent goodbye, a final moment of maternal tenderness to try and ease the pain of her passing, but all he can remember is the fat tears that fan down his sister’s cheeks, mirroring his own. His stomach roiled as her hand went limp in his grip. The tears continued to flow down her cheeks as they became cold. He closed her eyes with shaking hands as grief overcame him and he begged the invisible powers to take him too.

A neighbor eventually found him there with their bodies. Too many people were sick and dying for a proper funeral. Their bodies were simply added to an ever-burning pile of nameless casualties. The smell of the smoke was revolting, and Bradley emptied the meager contents of the stomach into the sea. That’s when the whispers started. Whispers questioning his survival, his health, and then one by one, the backs of those he looked to for help began to turn, fueled by fear and paranoia.

So he left. Desperate to stay alive, he’d snuck onboard a passing trade vessel, making his way down the coast of Carolina. Over the next few months, he did this over and over, up and down the coast, sometimes simply finding and stealing what food he could on board, and when he was caught, working odd jobs to earn his keep until the next port.

One day, however, his ego outpaced his luck. The ship in the harbor was larger than any he’d attempted before, but his pickings were slim, and he wanted something more consistent. He was beginning to grow weary of constantly having to find his next target, the exhaustion of his new lifestyle catching up to his child body. This ship was larger, most likely sailing far from the Carolina coast, promising a voyage of at least a few weeks if not a few months. It was a long time to hide, but it would be worth the risk. At the worst, the captain would find him, kill him for his crimes, and he could finally rest.

He lasted exactly three days. He was searching the hold for something to eat, the hope of a longer voyage promising a myriad of food choices. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he opened a barrel to the sight of fresh oranges. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had a fruit. He reached hungrily for one of them when a hand closed around his wrist. He’d been so excited that he’d lowered his guard.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The voice held no anger, just a playful curiosity. Bradley’s head whipped up, but his split second of fear was drowned out by a strange sense of relief that he couldn’t explain. Perhaps this man would simply toss him overboard without question, and he wouldn’t have to run anymore, wouldn’t have to hide. The lantern in the hold swung then, with the steady rocking of the ship and the light illuminated both their faces. He could have sworn he heard a sharp intake of breath from the man, but it could have been the rolling waves through the wood of the hull.

The man didn’t say anything, simply dragged Bradley up the ladder from the hold, up onto the deck. A few men paused their work to study him, murmurs arising from a few of them. Instead of hauling him over to the side of the ship, however, the man, who Bradley could now see better in the fading light of the setting sun, led him to the captain's quarters. He asked Bradley to sit and he sat, warriness keeping his body alert.

“You have a family, boy?” He asked, voice a mix of gruffness and a strange tenderness. Bradley shook his head as he studied the man. The man turned away for a moment, a foolish mistake had Bradley taken advantage of his turned back and ran. The fact of the matter was, however, that there was nowhere to run, and so he sat. “You’ll stay here then,” he said and Bradley nodded obediently. He’d done this song and dance enough times. He was caught, he’d be offered work to earn his keep, and he’d be abandoned at the next port. “I’m Maverick, but you can call me Captain.” He extended a firm hand to Bradley and the boy took it warily, shaking it awkwardly.

He’d expected work, to be treated like one of the other men. He’d been unprepared, however, to be treated as he was, like a child. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like one. Maverick had given him food to eat, his own bed to sleep in, the best he could do in terms of clean clothes, and only some small work here and there. Every night, Bradley would fall asleep wondering when it would all come to an end. He dreaded the day the ship made port and he would have to leave. He grew bitter towards the young captain, for showing him such kindness when he’d have to go back to the life he’d lived before this.

What he didn’t expect, however, was the captain dragging him along when they made port in a small town off the coast of Massachusetts. He led him to a simple house and Bradley’s heart pounded with fear. Was this the local law enforcement? Was he being turned in as a stowaway or a thief, to be hung for his crimes? But the house was none of these things. Bradley tripped over his feet when Maverick released him from his grip just inside the doorway and stumbled, turning to scowl at Maverick before looking at the two people studying him curiously. “Found this one on the coasts of the Carolinas,” Maverick said, and Bradley could hear the grin in his voice.

The older of the two people in the house was a woman, around the same age as Maverick, with chestnut waves and kind but discerning eyes that studied Bradley with a tenderness that made his skin crawl. It reminded him of his mother before his father had died before their lives had been destroyed.

“My, don’t you look a sight?” She said, smiling softly even as Bradley turned away, straightening in an effort to look older than his years, but she simply laughed. His stomach clenched at the sound. It seemed so foreign, a woman’s laughter. He didn’t have long to dwell on it, however, as a small hand grasped his. It took all of his strength not to wrench his hand away, panic rising up his throat as he gazed at the little girl standing in front of him. She didn’t particularly resemble his sister in anything but age, but all Bradley could feel was the lifeless hand in his, slowly growing cold as the life drained out of it.

“My name is Guppy” she chirped up at him, bright eyes sparkling with excited curiosity. “What’s yours?”

Bradley tried to slow the hammering of his heart and keep his breath from becoming shallow as he convinced himself that this girl was not his sister, and she wasn’t going to drop dead in front of him. “Bradley,” he muttered.

Maverick let out a bark of laughter, causing Bradley to jump as he was jerked back to the present in full. “That’s the first answer we’ve been able to get out of him since we caught him rifling through our supplies on the ship!” It was true. Bradley wasn’t used to conversation, since he’d spent the last few months being talked at rather than talked to, so he’d kept to himself on the ship. It helped that Maverick hadn’t minded and seemed more than happy to talk enough for the two of them. He clapped Bradley on the shoulder. “C’mon now, boy. Let’s go get us some supper.”

It hadn’t been easy, letting himself be cared for, and becoming a part of the Mitchell family. At first, Bradley had inwardly rebelled against the very idea. Despite his better judgment, the voices of the villagers from his hometown plagued his mind. Murmurs of curses and carrying the mark of death haunted his waking as well as his dreams. Penny and Pete, Maverick’s real name, took his standoffish nature and frequent nightmares in stride, however, never once wavering in their patient support of him. There were no threats to leave him, no indication that they intended to throw him out, just a steadfast loyalty and love that ever so slowly thawed the survivalist ice that had grown around Bradley’s ice. While Penny and Pete preferred to let him come to them, giving him the space to come out of his shelf, on the complete opposite was their daughter.

Guppy was thrilled to have a new sibling and utterly fascinated with everything Bradley did in a way that continues to remind Bradley of his own sister. She followed him like an incongruous shadow, a bright spot of light behind his stormy rain cloud. Despite Bradley’s best efforts to ignore her in hopes that she would lose interest, she was persistent. She would chatter away to him with little regard for whether his grunts and occasional one-word answers were sufficient to sustain a conversation. She was a lot like her father in that way. He couldn’t ignore her forever, he knew, but being around her felt like an ugly scrape against wounds that he was struggling to heal, each cheerful word from her lips or grasp of his hand a painful slice through his heart. That is, until one day.

“He’s got a family. He’s got me, and my mama, and my papa. He’s my brother, and we’re family!” Bradley’s heart ached in a new way. He had been loading their cart full of groceries while Penny finished up inside the general store when a group of the local boys had decided to poke fun at him. He was used to it and had been content to let it roll off his back, but Guppy was indignant, shoving one of the boys before spitting out the declaration. “He’s my brother, and we’re family!” For a moment he doesn’t see Guppy, he sees what his sister could have become, had she been given the chance to grow up and for the first time, he thinks differently about his so-called curse. If he was truly cursed, why had he been given a second chance? A second chance to be a son and more importantly, a second chance to be a brother. This little girl who refused to give up on him as she stood over him now, eyes swimming with angry tears as she fussed over him.

“Enough, quit it.” He tried to wave off her ministrations as he struggled to hold back his own tears as his emotions rushed over him.

“Let me do this for you, Bradley,” she murmured, voice bordering on blubbering even as her eyes were harsh with a sharpness that seemed beyond her young years. “Let me be your sister.”

And so he did. He let her in. He let all of them in. And for the first time in what felt like forever, things were alright. Bradley had a father, a mother, and a sister. He had a family. And they were perfect, and slowly it began to heal the devastation that his childhood had left behind. But all good things come to an end. Bradley remembers the numbness punctuated by sharp jolts of pain as long-healed wounds were torn open again the day that they received word that Maverick’s ship had gone down. He remembers the sounds of Penny’s sobs, history repeating itself in the cruelest of ways. This time, however, he was no helpless boy. He was a man, twenty-two years of age, and this time holding his family together as death itself ripped them apart was a more reasonable task. Which made it all the worse when he had to watch his new mother waste away before his eyes in a cruel reproduction of his mother’s death. Yet this time there was no illness to blame, just the slow fracturing of a broken heart. There were nights he spent at her bedside, long after his sister had cried herself to sleep where he’d begged her to eat or drink something, to fight for them, with tears running down his cheeks. If not for him, at least for Guppy, that she should not suffer the way he had. And yet, not long after he buried his second father, Bradley stood holding his sister as his mother was laid in the ground.

Perhaps he was cursed. For the first time in over a decade, he let the words of those villagers from his hometown back into his brain. The grief facilitated their festering of his mind and fear gripped him at the idea of losing Guppy next. He thought about running, slipping away into the night in a desperate attempt to save her from her potential fate should he stay. But every time he tried to leave he could hear his baby sister’s voice as she gripped his hand with the last of her strength as life slipped from her body, begging him not to leave.

And so he stayed. He dedicated his life to keeping Guppy safe. His father had taken him along on the occasional voyage, teaching him everything he knew, so Bradley took that knowledge and began to find work on various ships. He did his best not to take anything too dangerous or long-term, for he saw the silent fear reflected in Guppy’s eyes every time he walked out the door. He needed to keep them alive, not join his fathers in a watery grave.

And yet the sea called to him. The water sloshing against the sides of the ship and its sway in response were a siren song, calling Bradley in a way he’d never truly understood. Once he’d resented the ocean, for taking both his father’s from him, and yet the longer he spent on it, he understood. The call that could not be ignored, that tempted the wildest part of his soul to journey farther, take more risks, to uncover the secrets that it held. Against his better judgment, Bradley found himself longing for more. And that’s what had led him to make the foolish decision to sign his name on a contract belonging to one Captain Jake Seresin.

“A pirate is just a sailor with a different cause,” Maverick had told him on Bradley’s first voyage on board his ship. That’s when Bradley had learned what his father truly did for a living. It had turned all his previous notions about piracy on its head. His father had a life, a family to come home to. He was a good man. And yet he was a pirate, a dirty word to most, whispered with derision and morbid curiosity. If Pete Mitchell could be a pirate, how bad would it be for Bradley to follow in his footsteps? He needed the money. If he had his own ship he could do as he pleased, be home as often as he wanted. He could make his sister happy while knowing that she would want for nothing. He hated watching her work at the tavern, hated thinking about the drunken sailors that called after her even as she laughed off their advances. She deserved more than that.

And maybe that’s why he’d been stupid enough to let her tag along when she made it clear that that was the only way she’d let him go. He could protect her if she was with him. He wouldn’t have to worry about what might happen while he was gone. Sure, she was a woman on a pirate ship, but she was the blood daughter of a pirate, even if she didn’t know that. The sea was in her blood. Maybe if she came along, she’d feel its draw the way he did and she’d understand why he longed to spend his life answering its call. What he hadn’t bargained for, however, was that the crew of the Hangman were victims of a curse from Davy Jones himself, and the deadline was upon them, and Bradley had sealed his fate the moment he’d signed his name.

They’d gotten so close. And yet the curse had threatened to become a permanent affliction. That was until Guppy had offered herself to Davy Jones himself, magic for magic, to break the curse over the pirate captain she’d fallen for. She truly was her father’s daughter. But Bradley couldn’t lose her, so he’d offered himself in her place. He had no magic but perhaps he truly was cursed. And by some miracle, Davy Jones had agreed to take him instead.

Death. Death had always followed Bradley like a shadow, always hovering just out of sight, looming in his peripheral, until now. When he had taken the brunt of Jake Seresin’s curse he’d become something out of the reach of death itself. He’d spent twenty-nine years begging for death to take him, only to be cursed with life while it took everything he’d held close. Except for Guppy. Guppy was alive. She was safe. She was loved. He trusted Jake Seresin as far as he could throw him, but he knew he would care for his sister. And that was the best he could do.

A/N: This is a lot longer than my typical prologues but it felt essential to setting up the story so here we are. I’m so excited for this series! Fool’s Fare is so near and dear to my heart so I only hope I can do it justice! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the crew (taglist)! Also I’m going to be fielding any and all questions regarding The Devil to Pay via asks so if you have anything you want to ask or just talk about, slide on over there!

[girlactionfigure]

#onthisday, 2018, Sara Ginaite Rubinson z”l passed away. She was a world renowned author and academic, a legendary resistance fighter in Lithuania against the Nazis during WWII. After the war she eventually joined her daughters in Canada and wrote several books in Lithuanian. Her most famous work translated into english was “Resistance and Survival: The Jewish Community in Kaunas 1941–1944.”

Sara was born to Yosef Ginas and Rebecca Virovitch, in Kaunas, Lithuania on March 17th, 1924. Raised in a successful Jewish family, Sara was on the verge of graduating from high school when, in 1941, her life was interrupted by the Nazi invasion of Lithuania. Three of her uncles were subsequently killed in the Kaunas Pogrom that year, and she, along with the rest of her family, were placed in the Kovno Ghetto. That was when she decided to fight back and join the Anti-Fascist Fighting Organization, a resistance of fighters against the Nazis. 

After marrying Misha Rubinson, they escaped together in the winter of 1943-44, she created a Jewish Partisan unit called, “Death to the Occupiers.” She would often bravely venture back to the ghettos to rescue people, helping them escape to safety. Both she and her husband participated in the liberation of the Kaunas and the Vilnius ghettos, although the Nazis had already wiped out most of the region’s Jewish population. Only her own sister and brother-in-law survived of the rest of her family. 

After the war she became a professor of political economics at Vilnius University. After her husband died in 1977, she emigrated to Canada where her two daughters Anya and Tanya were already living. Sara became an adjunct professor at York University and was frequently invited to lecture throughout Canada, the United States, Europe, and Israel. She gave an inspirational lecture in 2013 in Toronto, titled “History and Personal Memory: the Beginning of the Holocaust in Lithuania.”

On April 2nd, 2018, Sara died in her home at the age of 94, the 17th of the Jewish month of Nissan. May her light and legacy shine brightly for Jews and all oppressed people of the world for generations to come.

onthisdayinjewishistory

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (22)

22. Rains of Fire

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your personal sacrifice is not enough to Aemond’s thirst 

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader, one sided Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, incest, hinted non-con, involuntary imprisonment, non con adultery, kidnapping, a little choking, body shaming (Aemond is a c*nt, I imply Reader had chubbier hips from giving birth), death of characters, war and all that comes with it, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.1 k

Notes: Ufff this was hard to write. I know I have to update Dragons' mistress and the White Dragon, but I had to write this first, I was just taped to the computer writting this

Cregan hand’s shaked as he read the urgent words of his sister, his eyes filled with tears as he whined, like a wounded animal 

His fist landed on the table on his tent.

He so childishly thought he could protect you, but not even an army of a thousand men could get between a dragon and his desire. He was marching to fight a war, and yet, it wasn’t enough

“How long until we reach Harrenhal?”, he asked his most trusted man, Jon, the second son of Lord Roderik 

“Two weeks Lord”, he whispered shakily

“We need to pick up the pace “, he grunted, “my wife just…”, he looked at him and he straightened his posture, “she tried to take matters into her own hands”

“Is the Lady of Winterfell alright?”, he asked, fearfully, “is the heir…?”

“The heir is fine”, he said shortly, “but the Lady of Winterfell is in enemy hands”, he said shortly, "we need to reach Harrenhal as soon as we are able, and send a raven to Dragonstone for the old gods!”, he said quickly, “we are facing the largest dragon in the world!”

The man that was around his age left the tent in a hurry, and Cregan bit his bottom lip strongly, enduring the need to cry

You had been threatened and flied willingly to the enemy hands

He didn’t know Aemond in his entirety, but… he was a man, a dark man… with dark desires. He didn’t have to be a genius or a wizard to know what that man wanted to do to you

His wife, his beautiful, smart, sweet, loving wife who had fled her own home to marry him, to escape that monster, who trusted him to protect her and care for her and keep her safe.

He had failed

In a rage he threw everything he had atop his desk to the dirty ground

You threw yourself to the jaws of the dragon to spare him, he hasn't been fast enough, powerful enough, to protect you, his own wife.

And he could only pray to see you again

It had to be at night

You had manage to hide a small knife in a gartner around your thigh, but for it to work, Aemond needed to be impossibly close, and impossibly distracted and relaxed for it to work

The mere thought made your stomach turn, but it was the only way, and if it was at night, you had a better chance to escape in the night, with Vhaelar being so close

She was injured but you could hear her sing at nights, missing you, so it was clear she was ready to fly away if needed be. 

You shook in anticipation, he had left to arrange some things, and left you alone to put on a very flamboyant dress and jewelry, like the one he gifted you in Winterfell. You whined, scared out of your mind, but you had to remind yourself that you were doing this for a reason, a good reason, for the survival of your family, your husband, your son, Sara, the North, all of them. 

You were getting claustrophobic in this windowless room, it was beautiful decorated, yes, and the candles lit up the room and their scents prevented you from smelling the burn stone and wood and the moist of something that had never seen the sunlight, but they were there, you knew it, like ghosts

Sometimes in those hours he left you, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

A shaky maid brought you water, wine, bread, cheeses and fruits to calm your needs, and left you without even looking at you. You knew it would be futile to try and talk to her. You knew what Aemond did, killing everyone in the castle, he probably filled it with people loyal to the Greens. 

You were not proud to admit that you drank the full pitch of wine, out of nervousness, and by the time Aemond walked back into the room, you were tipsy, and on your nerves

Aemond didn’t take long to see that

“I’m sorry for leaving you for so long”, he seemed disgustingly pleased with himself, and amused by your tipsiness, “believe me when I say, I wouldn’t have left at all”

“You are here now”, you said, fighting to make it an even voice. He smiled darkly 

“I am”, he took one step towards you, and you couldn’t help but take one step back, making him smile darkly

“You know why you came”, he said

“I know”, you whined, “but Aemond… I need to know…”, he was bored pretty quickly

“Get on the bed”, he commanded, and you whined

“Please”

“I don’t want to force you”, he said simply, clasping his hands together behind his back, “it will be better for the both of us if you surrender yourself to me”, he said simply, with the edge of his mouth turned upwards, in a sick little smile

“Aemond”, you whimpered.

Of course before you kill him, you wanted to see if you could convince him to retreat, but as you could see, there was no going back on his darkness 

“Do it”, he only demanded. By your count, it was already nighttime, so this was it, this was the time to do it.

You walked towards him, turning off your brain and all your thoughts, and you kissed him roughly. He released his own hand and grabbed you almost tenderly, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. But then he kissed you back, taking control, his hands got rough, grabbing your arms, and then your sides, squeezing your flesh

“I‘m enjoying your initiative”, he whispered darkly and your lips left his, but he wasted no time in kissing you again, biting on your lips, making you cry out. When you realized what was about to happen, you needed to fight with yourself to tune yourself off. You needed to be in control if you were really going to go through with your plan.

So you needed to be in control. 

He seemed to sense your urgency, so as he kissed you roughly he led you to the bed.

You fell on top of it hazardously, a mix of limbs and arms, but you were determined. You manage to be on top of him, and your took a sharp breath, the flimsy fabric of your dress already up your thighs 

He looked up at you with wonder in his eye

This was it

And as you accommodated yourself on top of him, you looked down at his face, and he immediately could see that something was wrong, as you couldn’t hide your anger and your hate any longer, you took your hand under the skirt that was already hunched around your thighs, and uncovered the dagger

You were quick, taking both hands and raising the weapon over both your heads, Aemond opened his eye widely, his arms under your knees, he couldn’t do anything. 

His heart was your aim, and as you were lowered the knife into him, he went in so slow you cursed yourself, that is what it felt like, but as you were lowering the knife with was like incredible speed, you were pulled backwards, as sharp nails grabbed you by your hairs and scalp

You whined in pain as you landed on the floor in what seemed to be slow motion, you tried to protect yourself from hitting the stone floor but your arm landed awkwardly, your leg twisted as well. You were not injured, but hurt. Something or someone kicked your hand, the knife flying over the other side of the room, and as you tried to stand, Aemond had done so, and right by your side, was a woman with long dark hairs, sharp green eyes and her face twisted in rage

Aemond could not believe what his eye was seeing

“Do you think she would’ve come freely if you hadn't threatened her?”, she asked bitterly, “she came here to kill you”

“Fuck you!”, you screamed, your nerves in the edge of your skin, you had failed, fatally 

Aemond looked at the scene developing in front of him, his witch, Alys Rivers, the woman he had taken to bed to assert dominance, he could have never imagined she was the owner of a dark power, and then, the woman he truly wanted, on the floor crying in anger, married someone else and had his child, having tried to kill him after she pretended to wanted to be with him. 

Even though Alys knew what his aim was -you-, she even helped him to get to you, and yet, she, as any person would be, was jealous of you, she believed she was the one Aemond should be with, should want, she could give him a child, she could give him everything you could, and more, she could give him dark powers.

Aemond soon was angry, he had lost control of the situation, he had let himself be blinded by you. 

“It’s me who you should be with”, she said bitterly, looking at you still on the floor, pitifully, “it is me who had been faithfully by your side all these months, and it is me who can give you everything you want”

“Get out”, he said bluntly, taking Alys by surprise

“What?”, she snapped, still not impressed

“Get out”, he was fuming, Alys contained her anger, walking away from the room, closing the door with a surprising strength

“Aemond”, you called, scared of what you were seeing, he was very angry, enraged. He grabbed you by the neck, not squeezing but still you couldn’t breathe, he threw you on the bed and as you recuperated, he went to the door, opening it and barked orders to a soldier on the hallway that you couldn’t hear, and the he turned towards you, grabbing his own dagger from his belt

“Please!”, he threw himself on you, straddling your middle, making it hard for you to breathe but he immobilized you. “Please!”

“You are just a tricky little whore!”, he shouted, you had never seen it this angry, he was usually so contained within himself 

“Aemond please don’t do this, please!”, he sliced the top of your dress and then he ripped it off with your own hands, at once you were completely naked underneath him, and then a shaky soldier entered the room, in his hands there was two thin, short chains

“No”, you whined with tears in your eyes, “NO!”, Aemond trapped one of your wrists no matter how hard you fought him, he was stronger than you in aspect, quicker, smarter…

He closed the other ends around the wooden frame of the bed. 

And one you were immobilized in one arm, he went for the other , and he chained you to the bed like you were an animal

The guard left without even looking at you, but you could tell he looked troubled, but there was no time for you to concern yourself with such things, Aemond was looking down at you with a hunger in his eyes that scared you

“You are certainly looser that the last time I saw you”, he mocked, grabbing your chubby hips, you whined, motherhood certainly had taken a toll on you

“Fuck you”, you spit out

“But no matter”, he whispered, “it is still you”

“Please Aemond, it is not too late!”, you begged, “please don’t do this”

“Why can’t you see?”, he growled, “you had been mine all along, it was a mistake on my part to make you believe you had a choice”, you cried underneath him, once he realized you were tied up nicely and tightly, he separated himself from you to undo his breeches, he didn’t even undressed fully, he didn’t even get his clothes off

“Like I said, you are already married, so for now, you are my whore”, he growled, “But I will not forget what you tried to do, you tried to kill me, and your husband will pay the consequences”

“NO!”, you cried, twisting and turning underneath him, crying bitterly, “you promised”

“You have to understand, that my promise is no longer valid after you tried to stab me in the heart”

“You have no heart”, you cried, “please don’t do this”

“I could have been nice, and gentle”, he growled, “but you are more dragon than lamb, are you not?”, he teased, he released his cock, and you whimpered at the sight 

“You are going to give me real children”, he whispered darkly, “dragon princes”, you only shook your head, but you had to look away as he pushed your legs open and placed himself between them

You couldn’t even look at him as you let him take you.

They weren’t advancing fast enough

Cregan thought bitterly, two weeks had passed since he receive the dark news from Winterfell, he knew Aemond had you in his power and he knew what he was capable off

They had already passed the Crossroads Inn and he knew it was a matter of a few kilometers until they could see the burn and cursed towers of Harrenhal

His army was great, he had met men in all the Northerner cities he went through on his journey South, he had a power of ten thousand men 

He would siege the Castle, he knows it will take the lives of many men as Harrenhal was huge and completely defendable once you could take it, but if he could convince the Kinslayer to come and face him face to face, relying on his hate for him, he could take him in a hand to hand combat

But his plans were… mercilessly destroyed

They came at first light, storming his camp, an army of Baratheons and soldiers from the Royal army as well

The surprise factor did take them by surprise but only for a moment, as they retaliated fiercely, they were the winter wolves, the wildest army Westeros has ever seen.

The battle was brutal, mounted soldiers galloping through the tents and breaking havoc, hard tall men throwing them off their horses with axes of war hammers

Cregan, fueled by rage, cut enemy soldiers in half with the strength and power of Ice, his Valyrian sword, screaming in a rage, seeing red everywhere, the battle was soon pretty even, even though the wolves were being attacked by double the numbers

But Cregan had no space on his mind but for one thing

“KINSLAYER!”, he called, freezing everyone around him, and for his luck, or curse, Aemond answered the call, appearing through the soldiers and smoke, and destruction

“Stark”, he called back, soon they were in the middle of a circle, surrounded by men that had stopped the slaughter just to witness something that was going to be written in the storybooks 

“Where is my wife?”, he asked, on guard, with his sword between his hands

“My whore is in Harrenhal, waiting for me in my bed”, he wanted to jump him, cut off his head, but he had to be smarter, he had to beat him. 

“Release her, and I will march away”, he said firmly, Aemond only chuckled, his own sword on his hand, ready for the kill

“I will carve your heart out and present it to her as a wedding present”, he breathed out

“You will have to kill me first”, he threatened, putting himself in a position for attack

“After you are dead, I’m going to fly to that wasteland you call home, I’m going to take your widow in your bed, and I’ll give her my children”

“You are never going to touch her again!”, he growled

“I already did, make her bleed on my cock”, that was not true, but Cregan didn’t care as that was the last straw, with a war cry he threw himself towards Aemond, Ice on hand

The clash was brutal 

Both blinded, one by power and lust, another for love and desperation. It was a fight for the ages, the single strength shown by both in their encounter made the hearts of everybody who was seeing it clench.

The battle around them also continued, each soldier inspired by their leader, soon Cregan and Aemond both got pushed around by the own fights going around them

“But don’t worry, I don’t care about that little brat, I’m going to leave it there”, Aemond teased, “lets see how long it takes your bastard sister to find him in the snow after I take her eyes”

“ARGH!”, Aemond's sword, that was not Valyrian steel, got split in two by the sheer force of Cregan and Ice, Aemond grabbed a shield from the ground, Cregan was stronger than him, but he was way faster and leaner. quicker on his feet, so he managed to dodge every heavy attack, slower by the size of the sword. 

With a growl, and fighting against himself, Aemond retreated, taking advantage of his soldiers around him, Cregan tried to reach him, but his path was cut by Green soldiers 

“FIGHT ME AEMOND!”, he screamed, “CRAVEN!”, but the silver haired man disappeared between his men, walking away from him.

The royal army with the Baratheons surrounded the Northmen, making them so tightly against one another they could barely move

Cregan could barely breathe, as he looked around in desperation, it was a sickening moment, in which for him, all hope was lost. Jon was by his side on a second

“My father is leading half the army to surround them, we are going to be fine!”, he managed to scream, Cregan had to believe him, but the sheer force of the attack was unbelievable, the worst part wasn't even… Cregan gasped loudly, as he watched frantically for the skies. 

They had placed his camp on a valley, that was their first mistake, even though he had placed watchers on any high point around it, they had been clearly slain without anybody knowing, so they were in the worst place possible 

It was moments that felt like hours, as the Northmen fought their way to make room, to recuperate ground, but they were having a hard time doing so, and that is when… all hell broke loose

“DRAGONFIRE!”, screamed another one

“COVER OUR LORD!”

“NO!”, it all happened so fast, Cregan remembered being pushed to the ground, in the reduced space, in the mayhem, in the midst of battle, someone hit him in the head, it could have been a foot, it could have been a shield of the pointless part of a spear, but he lost himself in the roar of battle.

More notes: THIS WAS INTENSE, I couldn't bring myself to write *that* scene, but still you get the picture... Don't hate me please, you know, or at least some of you know, that I'm a sucker for happy endings... hehe this isn't over yet!

taglist!

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality @yentroucnagol @crazymusicgirl104

[wifeyoozi]

Someone in my inbox (they asked not to tag them) asked me about the repost I made regarding Moumita case so I want to tell you all about it, both because I want more people aware of this and because this has got a lot of rage in me which I want to let out.

My dear followers of you have just some time to read this post and do as least as pray for the poor soul of Moumita and several others I'll talk about in this post after reading this I'll really appreciate. There are heavy mentions of brutal rape and assault cases so if that is too triggering for you refrain from reading.

So this thing happened in India (where I live) on 9th August. Yes that recent. Dr Moumita Debnath was a doctor in Kolkata at RG kar medical College which as far as my knowledge is is a Government College and hospital. To get into this college students need to pass neet exams which one of the toughest exams in the world. She was a doctor in practice. A few interns were running a sex and drug racket INSIDE the hospital. Moumita got to know about this and threatened to expose on social media and tell the authorities. She was unaware that the said authorities was also involved in the racket. She was troubled for the next few days including her new car being vandalized and making her work 36 hour shifts. One night as she was in the hospital on a shift ON DUTY as a DOCTOR, she was caught, held and raped brutally. I won't get into too much details because it is very disturbing and graphic but one of the offenders was a GIRL who helped the men by tying up Moumita. Moumita was raped and beaten up by over 10 people and in the end AFTER she was dead her corpse was assaulted again by a scapegoat who is later sent to jail (keyword, as a scapegoat).

Sadly the story didn't end there. Moumitas parents weren't allowed to see her body for 3hours after arriving at scene. The cause of her death was told suicide. The place where the incident happens was broken down under the name of renovation. The police and government were involved in the tempering of evidence since the interns were from very influential backgrounds. People began peaceful protests and went for candle march to demand justice for Moumita and her soul.

The government's replies? The CHIEF MINISTER of West bengal who's herself a WOMAN states that Moumita was a "characterless" woman , she had a body which would tempt boys , boys can make mistakes so it's okay (??????) , she had affairs and was pregnant (idek why this is related true or not) and that people should not protest and March and should instead just mourn silently.

Shame on her for saying this as a woman herself.

During this candle march one of the protesters (female) was brutally raped, beaten and killed for the sole reason that she was part of the rape.

Sadly this is not the only thing that is happening in India right now.

A 3yo was assaulted by her can driver in woods in Mumbai.

A man eloped with a woman and the woman's family gangraped the man's sister

A man in dehli is arrested for raping his own daughter for the past 2 years

A vizag man rapes a woman in public and the onlookers film her instead of calling police

85 year old woman in up does after being raped

A catholic bishop assaults a nun

And these are only the cases which came forward in news in the past few days just in the span of a week or two.

Men aren't blamed. Women are the ones questioned. Women's character's were judged. Women are the ones told to protect themselves. Where is a woman safe? When is a woman safe? How is a woman safe?

She is still unsafe wearing a doctor's coat, a diaper, a saree, a burkha, anything. She is unsafe in her home, in a hospital, in her school, in public, in her workplace, at night, in morning. No matter how much she fights back she is still unsafe.

And she is still questioned.

It's heinous. Not just the crime but how the public and government reacts to this. And these are just the crime that are known. Hundreds and thousands and who knows how many rapecase files are just buried. Many more than those are never reported. Marital rapes and date rapes aren't even considered criminal.

On 15th august, it was India's 78th independence day. But what are we, the women, really independent from? 78 years and women still don't have half the security and rights as they deserve. Yes, women are now "allowed" to work and study. But they are still getting assaulted at workplaces and schools, no matter how noble the profession or how you g the student.

And Today itself I get a message from the place where I live - a popular gated community which prides itself for 24/7 security that a schoolgirl (12-13 yo) who was in her school uniform was followed by a creepy looking man outside her home and catcalled her (I am not sure if physical harassment took place). Yes, it was dark but the girl was probably coming from a tuition or class. You know what our community head said? "Due to this incident we advice women and children from roaming alone on the street after dark." Something snapped in me and I just wanted to tell this gentleman how about we stop the boys from stepping foot outside after dark instead?

Now as I come to an end of my rage, I just want to tell everyone that this post is not to downgrade my country. I do not want people to think all indian men are harmful or anything like that. Men like that are everywhere. Do not label our country slurs without knowing all of it.

I do not expect you to do anything about this. If possible, pray for these poor souls and let's hope for our government to take some, any serious action regarding this issue.

[panxramic]

Goddess of Mischief and the God of Thunder

Chayanne and Tallulah except they’re Thor and Loki

Chayanne quietly leans up against the wall. Beside him Lullah was inputting a code that she had stolen from the GrandMaster into the door.

There were a lot of things swirling in Chayanne’s mind. After everything that had happened, losing their dad Phil and finding out they have an evil older brother, being with Lullah again after he thought she was dead was just another slap in the face, but one he was unfortunately used to. How many times will they go through this? How many times will he chase after his own sister just for her to stab him in the back and lie again? There’s a war going on at home and he has to get back, no matter how little it seems Lullah seems to care.

After a bit more silence he spoke up, “Hey so… listen uh… we should talk.”

Lullah stopped in her tracks. “I disagree.” She continued on with the passcode, “Open communication was never our family's forte.”

“Yeah you have no idea.” Both walked into the next room lazer guns drawn. “Been quite the revelation since we last spoke.”

A hoard of soldiers awaited them on the other side of the door.

“Hallo.” Chayanne smiled at them.

“Hola.” Lullah followed.

They both opened fire as everyone dropped to the floor. A string of stray lazers bounced off the walls and a yell from down the hall could be heard. As the first room of soldiers went down another group marched in guns already drawn. Chayanne and Lullah quickly dodged behind two pillars on the opposite side of the room.

Chayanne glanced over at her, she caught his eye, “Phil brought us together,” she turned to look back into the room before dodging back, nearly being missed by a blast, “ it’s almost poetic that his death should split us apart.”

One last look and the pair were marching back into the room side by side. Chayanne taking care of the ones in front and Lullah watching their backs as more soldiers ran in. They circled the room quickly and effectively getting to the other side where another input awaited. The goddess dropped her gun to use the code and behind her, Chayanne continued to fire.

“We might as well be strangers now.” She put in the code to the door closing them off from the soldiers behind, “Two kids of the crown… set adrift.”

Another door opens in front and a soldier walks out, gun pointed at Tallulah’s face. She raises her hands and backs up as the soldier follows suit. Right as he passes through Chayanne jumps from the side disarming him and knocking him out to the ground.

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”

Lullah stopped to think for a second. No, she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Here’s the thing,” she began as she followed behind him. “I’m probably better off staying here on Sakaar,” she says as they both enter and ride up the elevator of the GrandMaster’s tower.

All too quickly Chayanne replied, “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Lullah was taken aback, her face twisting into one of confusion and curiosity, “Did you just agree with me?” This wasn’t the response she was expecting.

“Come on, this place is perfect for you.” A couple of years ago he probably would’ve thought differently. A couple months ago he probably would’ve asked her to come with him. “It’s savage, chaotic, lawless, hermanita you’re gonna do great here.”

“Do you truly think so little of me?”

There was a pause as Chayanne looked over into her eyes, she could see a wash of sincerity as he spoke with adoration, “Lullah, I thought the world of you.”

What?

“I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever but… at the end of the day you’re you and I’m me.” Tallulah looks down as a feeling of sadness washes over her, Chayanne continues, “I don’t know maybe there is still good in you but let’s be honest our paths diverged a long time ago.”

It took Chayanne a long time to realize that. There’s only so much pleading he can do, and there's only so much fighting he can take. He’s mourned his little sister too many times and every time he does try to reach for her and pull her back into the light she loses her way. He tries to help, but all they ever do is hurt each other. If she doesn’t want to stay, then he has to let her go.

Lullah nods her head slowly, she’s in disbelief. He’s tricking her… he’s doing it on purpose. “Yeah… It’s probably for the best that we never see each other again.” That should sting him, that should cause a reaction.

“That’s what you always wanted.” He says instead. Chayanne knows her games, he knows how she uses words to hurt him and get what she wants. He turns to give her a cheeky smile, does she really want to stay?

Tallulah takes a deep breath, yeah… that’s what she has always wanted. So why is she sad her brother isn’t asking her to stay? Why does it hurt? This is her chance to start over, to live outside of her brother’s shadow. She can finally be on her own, alone.

She’s going to be alone.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

OC Masterlist

OCS CARRD // OCS SPREADSHEET

Band of Brothers

Valerie Harmon - Once a bright-eyed university student, fascinated by all things art history, Valerie's life in France is thrown into chaos by the Nazi invasion, severing her from her family back in Vermont. A chance encounter with an Easy Company Captain reignites previously forgotten hopes of ever seeing home again, but even this is not without its trials.

Camille Whitney - Following the death of her youngest brother on the Western Front, Camille puts her nurse training to use and accompanies Easy Company on their journey through Europe. Utterly family-oriented, she finds new brothers in the men around her, but none could replace the one she has lost.

Faye Warren - An aspiring journalist, driven by the legacy of her father, Faye finds frustration in her line of work, constrained by the expectations thrust upon female writers. In a last act of desperation, she chases a story all the way from London to Nazi-occupied France, hoping to find an opportunity amongst the men of Easy Company.

The Pacific

Anna March - After her family is rocked by horrendous tragedy, Anna finds herself permanently changed by the time her childhood friend, Eugene Sledge, returns from war. Both irrevocably scarred by the events of the last few years, they must come to terms with the new people before them whilst still struggling with old, long buried feelings.

SAS: Rogue Heroes

Diana Fayed - Adopted out of poverty by an infamous army general, Diana’s whole life has revolved around proving her worth and becoming the soldier her father believes she can be. Overlooked and dismissed by her superiors, she finally finds a place among the unruly ranks of the newly formed L Detachment, a group that will prove to be her biggest challenge yet.

Carmen Harry - Raised by her grandmother in South London, Carmen has found life to be stacked against her from a young age. However, using her own keen intelligence to drive her, she secures a position working for MI5 when war breaks out, travelling to Cairo as part of Security Intelligence Middle East. With unseen threats around every corner, Carmen must fight in the face of terrible loss to keep those relying on her alive.

Jonah Harry - Carmen's twin brother, Jonah is both her twinned soul and her polar opposite all at once. When a childhood of failed education and unruly recklessness drove him towards the military, he found himself becoming the perfect recruit for the newly founded SAS, a regiment his sister had indirectly helped to conceive. But when a terrible accident takes Jonah's life, his memory continues to forever change the lives of those around him.

Masters of The Air

Abbotts' Angels - Flying their bomber 'The Seraphim', the ten members of the Angels crew couldn't be more different from one another if they tried. But when war brings them together, they will forge a bond so strong that not even the destruction wreaked by conflict could tear them apart.

Frances 'Frankie' Bevan - A qualified aircraft mechanic and member of the WAAF, Frankie has spent her entire youth fascinated by all things mechanical. Her latest posting at Thorpe Abbotts promises to be no different from her previous jobs at first, but the 100th Bomb Group are nothing like the RAF pilots she's used to, and Frankie's about to learn that the pain of war will find you no matter where you are.

Georgina 'George' Aarons - Frankie's best friend and a telegraph operator at Thorpe Abbotts, George's budding romance with the pilot Curtis Biddick was only ever going to end in tragedy.

Susie Lamb - A Captain and driver in the Auxiliary Territorial Service, Susie has a reputation for being perhaps the most disliked woman in all of Thorpe Abbotts. However, as the sixth of eight children from a near-impoverished family, it becomes alarmingly clear that the answers to her present lay in her past, and she's not quite the woman everyone thinks she is.

Gwen Dastrup - Chicago native and daughter to Danish immigrants, Gwen's dreams of becoming a published historian are dashed by the breakout of war, and she volunteers with the Red Cross, becoming a clubmobile girl at Thorpe Abbotts. But when she catches the attention of John Brady and RAF Captain Michael Fenton, she is torn between choosing the man she loves and the easiest route to achieving the career she's always aspired to.

[theprettylatina]

A tumblr exclusive, I guess. My new main X-Men OC: JADE LIRA.

Some basics include:

Age: 31

Mutation: Mineralogy/Crystallization

Education: B.S. in Geology, minor in chemistry

Alignment: Magneto / Lawful Evil

"Hero" name: GEMINI

Here is the full low down! STORYTIME:

Jade Lira's family moved up the social ladder when her father started his own construction company. She and her sister were sent to a private school where they were one of the few people of color. To make matters more difficult, Jade's mutation hit her the same week her period did, at 14 years old, on day 3 of sophomore year. Her skin fractured, glittered, and dragged her arms down to her knees. Her skin, glinting in the bright lights of a classroom, was now made of diamond. Horrified, Jade ran home where her family hid her for a week while they learned how to hide and control her mutation. Jade never forgets the red puffy face of her little sister Rosa, only a year younger, who weeped "Is that going to happen to me!?" The incident was brushed under the rug officially, but Jade became the target of mutant hate and harassment. Her sister too became a target but was mostly ignored and ostracized. Jade focused hard on her studies to become a geologist. She wanted to learn about her mutation. That did not stop her from getting into fights to fight off bullies or defend her sister. The infamous portrait of the sisters three days after a fight hung over the Lira house mantle for a short time. Things became more difficult to Rosa, Jade's year younger sister when Jade graduated. Jade never forgets the day.

TW: Bullying, murder, discrimination, death, drunk driving

She'd written the date and time on her hand. "Pick up Rosa at 4:30". It was the last day of Rosa's senior year, it was already 4:15, and she was right on schedule! As she neared the corner of the school, the scream of sirens rattled her car. She parked, greeted with a scene of firefighters and cop cars surrounding the school's gated entrance. A tug at her heart and a lurch in her stomach told her all she needed to know. The sisterly bond was severed. She raced forward, screaming, hands clawed and grabbed, but nothing matched her strength and anger and fear. Hands slipped against her gemstone-smooth skin. She followed the path of paramedics and gawking teachers toward the pool. Her sister hated swimming. At the pool's edge, a paramedic stood over a sheet-covered silhouette. At her approach, the paramedic jumped back and teachers and cops crowded closer from behind. With a trembling hand, Jade pulled back the sheet. Her sister's face was bruised to black and blue, her lips looked like rolls, her neck marked in red, and carved across her forehead was the word that sent Jade over the edge. She hurled into the pool. Heaving and breathless. Even with her eyes closed she could see her sister's bloodied face and that word. MUTANT. Rage coursed through her blood. She knew. She knew who did this. A cop shouted at her from the pool's fence. She blinked into a gun muzzle pointed at her. That's when she knew. They were going to get away with it. Those disgusting rich mutant haters were going to get away with murder. Her lips curled back and a bullet bounced off her shoulder. A smoking hole in her shirt and a startled face meant nothing and another bullet bounced off her body. She marched forward and people screamed. Teachers, her teachers, screamed. Not from what had happened to her sister, but because of her. Jade felt her heart crack. "good," she whispered, "they should be." Two days later at a graduation house party, Jade donned all black and made her way in. She spotted them all in a corner. The 5 murderers. Her hands began to burn, her skin boiled and roiled with bubbling magma. She'd been spotted. The sea parted. Lava dripped from her fingertips. Fear spread like a wildfire. Jade grabbed the closest killer, "I think things are about to get a little heated," she smiled, and stuck her fingers into his mouth.

Jade's father became so distraught at the death of his daughter that he turned to drinking. 2 months later, an accident on the road ended his life and the shock gave her mother a heart attack at the door. Jade ended up alone and was now free to remold herself and go on the run.

TRAUMA! Yay! Jade is now a certified killer. Jade has a deep love for mutants, their allies, and the mutant community. She eventually makes her home on Genosha at Magneto's request, with whom she trained and philosophied with for several years after graduating from university under a false name (Magdalena Duarte). Jade's past and crusade made some uncomfortable but Magneto's relationship with her kept them from saying much else. Jade was a survivor of Genosha after the attack.

When asked to join the X-Men in her early twenties this is her response (also seen in the artwork above): "That is why I would never join you! you preach acceptance but accept tolerance and tolerance has gotten you nowhere! Now, I demand acceptance and will tolerate nothing less."

TLDR: Jade kills her sister's murderers, becomes a Geologist, and joins Magneto on his quest to elevate mutantkind.

@fototingobug Here is my terrifying baby gorl!

[atopvisenyashill]

Say Nymeria was also chained up and thus couldn't interfere at the Trident and Joffrey ended up killing Arya (whether it was accidental or not) what happens? What does Robert do if his son just killed his best friends daughter?

I mean Brandon wanted to murder Rhaegar for kidnapping Lyanna, and Ned and Robert went to war over the bad behavior of a king and his heir, so I imagine both of them are like, extremely triggered by this whole thing emotionally.

And like....this one is also just as wild as the "Joffrey executes Sansa" one because like, Arya is a noble born girl and even if she's picking a fight with the crown prince over the honor of her peasant born friend, i'm sure basically everyone can agree that there are easier ways to deal with her, like disarming her and knocking her out, instead of - i'm assuming - just hacking her to death with a fucking sword in front of her screaming sister. This isn't a cat that Joffrey chopped up in a fucked up imitation of his father's love of hunting, this is a human child and daughter of one of the most powerful families in all of Westeros. People on the other side of the damn world know who Ned Stark is, it's not something to take lightly. Not to mention he'll have done this while the entire royal family AND half the Kingsguard is in Tully lands aka if Cat, Ned, and Edmure are feeling pissed off enough, they can make things really fucking hard for the royal progress to get back to the safety of King's Landing's walls.

Anyways, considering we know Robert has no qualms about beating the ever loving shit out of his family, even with Robert's general cowardice when it comes to reigning in Cersei's own temper, I do think it's not unlikely that when Sansa runs back to camp sobbing and screaming that Arya has been murdered by Joffrey, and Ned demands Joffrey get put on trial for murder, that Robert might just ~deal with the problem~ himself by breaking Joffrey's face open, and probably slap Cersei around as well, something Jaime will not take kindly too, and probably Ned is going to be annoyed with as well because like, he doesn't want Robert to physically abuse his kid, he wants Robert to put that fucking kid on trial for murder. If Robert doesn't want to do anything besides just like, beat the shit out of Joffrey, Ned is taking everyone home...and I think Tyrion doesn't get to Winterfell until after the Trident incident which probably means when Tyrion shows up in Winterfell, the Starks may keep him hostage, which is going to kickstart the conflict between the Starks and the Lannisters. But also, if Robert won't do anything about Joffrey, Ned is also taking everyone home, and again, Tyrion is in a not small amount of trouble. I'm sure Cersei would try to have Ned taken before he leaves but they're in Tully lands, and if Edmure and Cat find out that Ned is being held hostage by the Queen, Edmure is just sending a host out to get Ned, Sansa, and the Northern faction.

If Robert does decide to do something....probably he has Joffrey marched up to the Wall, because I imagine it would look bad if Robert executes his own son? And then Tommen becomes heir. But Cersei is not going to be okay with this, and she will start plotting to kill him quicker, and I don't even think that Joffrey facing a consequence would make Ned want to bring Sansa south, even if he goes south to help Robert.

[thejoyoftruecrime]

Brain Britton

 Brian Britton was a 16 year old boy who lived in Poughkeepsie New York. Britton had a mother whose name was Marlene aged 42, Britton also had a father named Dennis who was aged 44. Britton also had a younger brother named Jason who was only 8 at the time and finally Britton has an older sister named Sherry. Britton was a troubled teen, he usually started fights with his family and even sometimes he was very abusive to them. But also during this time Britton got very obsessed with the military and war and became obsessed with the movie Rambo. Britton also learned to shoot guns from his father and he even kept several guns in his room and which his father told him to shoot without his permission, he sadly did not listen to that but I'll come back to that. Britton also told his family that he wanted to join the military and in which the family was happy for him because they thought that would help with all of behavior problems. It was a late day in March 1989 when Brain Britton decided to kill his family. But when the police finally showed up to the Britton house they first walked in the house and  found bones and blood and hair all over the home in disgusting amounts scattered around the house. They had assumed that the killer may still be in the house and so they were very careful searching the house. But when they walked upstairs to the master bedroom they found Dennis Brian's father, he was shot in the face and dead on the bed. They then walked to the living room and found Marlene shot in the chest still in her nightgown which had been bloody but then they found little Jason a few feet from his mother, his head had been crushed in. Police think that Brian used the end of the gun and crushed his head in but Jason didn't die immediately after this they think that he had crawled from where he had been hit all the way to his mom so that he could die with her. He was rushed to the hospital but died of his injuries. They then walked into Sherry's room to find her still alive but barely she rushed to the hospital. She had a gunshot wound straight to the head and she was shot in the abdomen but police think that Sherry wasn't gunned down in her bed, they think and can confirm that Sherry went to the bathroom to wash her hands and was shot there but after 2 to 3 minutes she gained some strength and got herself into her bed to die somewhat comfortably. After Brian killed "everyone" in his family he went to his uncle's house and that was when the police were called. Police were curious why Britton wasn't hurt throughout this whole murder plot and so they questioned him about the intruder and Britton had said that the intruder was masked and broke in through the basement window to kill his family. But what shocked Detective Mittlestaed was that Britton had shown no emotion to the death of his family and he knew almost immediately that he had to have killed his family. Britton, after hearing this, was confused almost immediately and said that his family had been abusive towards him and that they were on his case about skipping classes. But it was very clear that Brian had been planning these murders for a long time. Britton was also asked where the guns were and he told them exactly where they were, the attic. When Brian confessed they finally told Sherry that her family was dead and that Brian had killed them and that he was arrested, after hearing the news Sherry was too stunned to know that her own brother had killed her family and even tried to kill her. The trial of Brian Britton was held in 1990, the prosecution had said that Brain killed his family because he became too obsessed with the Rambo movie and which made him turn to becoming obsessed with war and the military too. Brian's statement was that he was physically and mentally abused by both of his parents and his defense attorney even said that his father forced him to watch military movies. Brain Britton was charged with 25 years to life with the possibility of parole, throughout the trial Britton had shown no remorse for the murder of his family.

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

Year 1676

TW/CW: Death

The year began with Shayna going into labor in the quiet hours of the night in early January. While Shayna labored with the help of Tala and Gianna, Alessandro waited outside with the children as the two of them took the opportunity of a new family member to avoid sleep. But sleep came to them anyways and by the time Shayna had delivered the baby midday on January 11th, Alessandro was the first one to greet his son named Nicola after his wife's late grandfather.

The birth had taken a lot from Shayna but it was mostly manageable as she loved to dote on her little son but as she started to feel more confident that nothing had gone wrong she felt a brief flash of pain while getting some air and when she didn't return her sister, Antea, found her and there was nothing to be done. She died on March 15th and was buried a few days later.

Nicola grew to be a darling baby who much to Alessandro's deep sorrow looked just like his mother. Thankfully, Marina was delighted to be a sister and he was conflicted about what to do with his wife's younger sister. Gabriella was happy to take in her niece following Shayna's death despite having her own young infant to care for but Antea was also the aunt of Alessandro's son so he didn't quite know what to do but since he was grateful for the help the girl gave in the wake of their shared loss, he was happy to have her for the time being anyways.

In Newcrest, things had been faring nicely for the family as April had brought with it the birth of another healthy son for Antonio and Sarah but sadly that's where the joy ended as Antonio was sad to announce that he had been called upon to fight in the war they had been lucky to avoid so far.

But after Antonio died in the war on the sixth of May, Ashley was taking the loss of her cousin even harder especially as she was stressed about her pregnancy that had gone mostly hidden until around the time her cousin passed. Giovanni Cesare was happy to cheer her up though Ashley felt a little odd being cheered up by her husband's kid brother as she felt she shouldn't be such a mess around someone so young.

But time heals and as the days passed into weeks, it became easier to bear.

Marcello celebrated his thirteenth birthday surrounded by his family though his enthusiasm was dampened by overhearing talks of his grandmother and uncle looking for a match for him. Much like his mother he was well aware of what was expected of him in the future and he had no problems with marrying for the sake of his family but he hoped that if he didn't raise a fuss, they wouldn't raise a fuss when he eventually went to leave for the islands in the future.

Marina also had her birthday growing into a lovely young lady who seemed to be a fairly decent blend of her parents to the joy of her father and extended family. While her grandparents and father fussed over her little brother, she and Antea were happy to play until dark.

As Antonio's youngest grew into larger baby, Sarah was concerned to learn that before Antonio had passed they were going to have another child but now it would be her mostly alone with their three young children and Luisa.

Late August came and with it, Gianna arrived at the Morosini home to help Ashley deliver her baby which turned out to be twin boys who were born in the late afternoon of August 27th. The boys were named Rustico and Ricciardi.

While the family in Tartosa fussed over the new babies, Osana's daughter, Juliette, grew into a darling girl though the festivities over her milestone with her paternal family was quickly overshadowed by the betrothal of her sister to a foreign noble who after some piecing together through notes was revealed to be Marcello and her brother's betrothal to a local young lady.

In the Carlisle-Rossi family, the relationship between all the members was only growing stronger though despite his family's insistence Alessandro was hesitant to remarry once more. Tala felt for the young man's plight after losing both of his wives and being left with the children he couldn't care for himself, she was happy to tell him that as long as she lived she would help out with the kids though she also knew that she was getting older, the relief Alessandro felt at the lack of necessity to remarry was visible.

Ashley and Giuliano's twins seemed to grow in a flash into strong young boys which made the whole household breathe a sigh of relief. Though for their parent's sleep was a thing of the past, they were happy that their four young children were all quite well at the year ended.

[readingforsanity]

The Midwife of Auschwitz | Anna Stewart | Published 2022 | *SPOILERS*

Auschwitz, 1943: As I held the tiny baby in my arms, my fingers traced the black tattoo etched across her little thigh. And I prayed that one day this set of numbers, identical to her mother's, would have the power to reunite a family torn apart by war...

Inspired by an incredible true story, this poignant novel tells of one woman's fight for love, life and hope during a time of unimaginable darkness.

Ana Kaminski is pushed through the iron gates of Auschwitz beside her frightened young friend Ester Pasternak. As they reach the front of the line, Ana steps forward and quietly declares herself a midwife - and Ester her assistant. Their arms are tattooed and they're ordered to the maternity hut. Holding an innocent new baby, Ana knows the fate of so many are in her hands, and vows to do everything she can to save them.

When two guards in their chilling SS uniforms march in and snatch a blond-haired baby from its mother it's almost too much for Ana to bear. Consoling the distraught woman, Ana realizes admist the terrible heartache there is a glimmer of hope. The guards are taking the healthiest babies and placing them with German families, so they will survive. And there are whispers the war is nearly over...Ana and Ester begin to secret tattoo little ones with their mother's numbers, praying one day they might be reunited.

Then, early one morning, Ana notices a small bump under Ester's thin striped clothing...

A gripping story of two women during the years of World War II. Ana is a midwife in Poland, called upon to the woman of the city of Lodz to birth their babies at all hours of the night, and Ester, a young girl, who has fallen hopelessly in love with a man named Filip, and the two of them begin their life together on the very same day that the Germans begin marching into Poland, hellbent to take it over.

Despite being separated despite their friendship, Ana attempts to help Ester, and all the Jews living in squalor within the "ghetto" the Germans have put together in their beautiful city. Families are forced to live in homes with strangers, while non-Jews are forced to move out of their homes to allow German soldiers and their families to live within their walls.

When Ana is suspected of participating in resistance efforts, she, along with Ester, are taken to Auschwitz. While normally they may have taken directly into the crematorium to their deaths, Ana's credentials as a midwife has earned her a place in the maternity ward, Ester alongside her as her assistant. Together, the two women assist those who are with them birth their babies. Oftentimes, those babies either die at the hands of the woman who runs to the ward, starvation, illness and eventually, the babies deemed worthy of life are taken from their mothers to be "Germanized" by having them placed with German families.

Ester, who is going to give birth at any time herself, begins tattooing the babies inside their armpits with the numbers of their mothers, in hope that one day those babies separated from their rightful mother can be reunited. When Ester gives birth to a baby deemed worthy by the Germans, she also tattoos her in hopes of someday reuniting with her.

The war rages on, but there is talk of the Germans being nervous and scared as other countries are now entering the fight, with more willpower. Eventually, Auschwitz is liberated, and Ana and Ester are allowed to return to their hometown. Ana is unsure of what has happened to her own family, along with Ester being unsure what happened to hers. But, the two of them are happily reunited with Ana's sons, who inform her that her dear husband, Bartek, had died during resistance efforts.

Ester is still searching for her father, her mother having died long ago before their arrival at Auschwitz, her younger sister Leah, and the husband she so desperately wants to reunite with. Thankfully, Ester is reunited with her sister, who is newly married and expecting a child of her own any time, who informs her that her father and Filip's father had died after they shot a German officer who had attempted to rape Leah so many years ago.

Ester hears word that Filip has escaped a camp in Chelmno, but otherwise, there has been no word of him. But, eventually, he returns to her as well. Ester is so shocked by his return, but so thankful that they had been reunited. She explains that they had a daughter, and that she was taken from them after only four days, but that there is a rabbi and Ana are working together to find the missing children in hopes of returning them to their rightful families.

In the end, while Pippa hasn't been found for Ester and Filip to reunite with, the two of them end up adopting a young Polish girl named Oliwia, who just happens to be the first baby that Ester had tattooed in hopes of having her reunited with her mother. Unfortunately, Zofia had died, and now they are taking her in as their daughter, with every hope that they will once again be reunited with Pippa. Until then, they will love and accept Oliwia as their own.

[fearsmagazine]

THE BOOGEYMAN - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: 20th Century Studios

SYNOPSIS: “High school student Sadie Harper and her younger sister Sawyer are reeling from the recent death of their mother and aren’t getting much support from their father, Will, a therapist who is dealing with his own pain. When a desperate patient unexpectedly shows up at their home seeking help, he leaves behind a terrifying supernatural entity that preys on families and feeds on the suffering of its victims.” - 20th Century Studios

REVIEW: Not to be confused with the 2005 “Boggeyman,” THE BOOGEYMAN is based on a short story by Stephen King, first published in the March 1973 issue of Cavalier magazine and later included in King's 1978 collection, Night Shift. The trio of screenwriters weave many of King’s beats into a fresh and terrifying cinematic adaptation.

King's story centers on a psychologist and a troubled patient. This setup is present in the film, as psychologists figure prominently in the tale. The story begins by introducing us to the Harpers, sisters Sadie and Sawyer, and their father, Will. Will and the girls are emotionally fragile after the loss of their mother. Will has resumed his psychology practice, and between patients, a dark and mysterious man named Lester Billings arrives seeking help. Lester's presence in the Harper home creates the link that allows the Boogeyman access to the family. The creature is initially attracted to Sawyer, and the nightmare begins. The writers craft well-written and strong female characters as they spend time developing personalities and the family dynamic. They do an excellent job of presenting the creature's folklore without it simply being exposition that fills in the gaps. The film's dialogue is fresh and feels genuine to the characters. I can't recall any clichéd lines, and the humor is organic as it comes from character interactions and is not related to the creature. If there was any laughter coming from the audience it was of the nervous kind from the audience at the screening I attended. I enjoyed the character arcs, their struggles and relationships, and how the adults are presented in contrast to the children/young adults. I loved many of the touches they brought to the Boogeyman's mythology and how they wrapped the story up with a nice homage that brings the film back to King's story.

THE BOOGEYMAN features an excellent ensemble cast. Sophie Thatcher, who began her career on the Broadway stage, brings strength and emotional intensity to the character of Sadie, while also presenting the character's quieter, more fragile sides. She allows the viewer to perceive the turmoil Sadie is experiencing and believe the strength she finds to fight for her family. Her co-star Vivien Lyra Blair, who was recently seen in the series "Obi-Wan Kenobi" as Princess Leia, plays Sadie's younger sister Sawyer with a force of nature. Blair brings Sawyer to life as a smart, tough kid who can revert to a helpless child when she realizes she is no match for the presence that is haunting her. Sophie and Vivien work well together to create a genuine, sisterly relationship on screen. I was entertained and captivated by the rest of the performances. Chris Messina creates a convincing role of a psychiatrist/father who is distant and can't take his own advice. David Dastmalchian is so hypnotic as Lester Billings that I did not initially recognize him as the actor who played the Polka-Dot Man in "The Suicide Squad."

Director Rob Savage does a masterful job of blending the performances with production values and special effects. The cinematography creates a dark, gloomy universe filled with shadows. There are numerous subliminal aspects to the film that keep the viewer on edge. He judiciously meters out scares to keep the viewer off balance. There are several instances where he allows the characters' expectations as he makes a quick cut into the scene before revealing what they are actually confronted with. The film has gravitas, but does not feel weighed down or drawn out.

I loved Daniel Carrasco’s creature design for the Boogeyman. There is a look to the design that captures a feel of the haunting paintings of the 1700s and 1800s come to life. As it is slowly presented to the audience, they introduce new aspects to it that increase the horror for the viewer. It feels like an ancient entity that feeds on humanity’s fears. I’ve seen a video of a Cuckoo's egg in another bird’s nest hatching and taking over, and this reminded me of that. It’s quite horrifying.

Likewise, I loved Patrick Jonsson’s score. He has his music for the family and their emotional notes, and then there are the pieces for the creature. It adds an air of mystery and tension to the scenes, never overshadowing them. It adds a nice accent to the drama, playing with the viewer's emotional statue as they are lulled into what is unfolding on screen.

In light of recent horror films such as "Barbarians" and "Smile," THE BOOGEYMAN is another solid, mature film with strong characters and a well-developed creature. This allows for an emotionally intense and terrifying film. For King fans, it is a smart and skillful cinematic adaptation that takes the source material to a new level and should appeal to a variety of viewers. It is an excellent example of how to make a truly terrifying film while still receiving a PG-13 rating.

CAST: Sophie Thatcher, Chris Messina, Vivien Lyra Blair, Marin Ireland, Madison Hu, LisaGay Hamilton, & David Dastmalchian. CREW: Director - Rob Savage; Screenplay - Scott Beck, Bryan Woods & Mark Heyman; Based on the short story of the same title by Stephen King; Producers - Shawn Levy, Dan Cohen & Dan Levine; Cinematographer - Eli Born; Score - Patrick Jonsson; Editor - Peter Gvozdas; Production Designer - Jeremy Woodward; Costume Designer - Kari Perkins; Creature Designer - Daniel Carrasco; Special Effects Supervisor - Matt Kutcher; Visual Effects Supervisor - Paul Graff; OFFICIAL: www.20thcenturystudios.com/movies/the-boogeyman FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/people/The-Boogeyman-2023 TWITTER: N.A. TRAILER: https://youtu.be/YlQ5f8O9uZ0 RELEASE DATE: In Theaters June 2nd, 2023

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay), or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

[female-malice]

Opinion | Women are leading a revolution in Iran. When will Western feminists help?

By Masih Alinejad

A new popular uprising is taking place in Iran, and this time women are in the lead. It’s incredibly inspiring to see — for the first time I can remember — unveiled women marching at the front. They have overcome fear and are challenging one of the main pillars of the Islamic Republic of Iran: compulsory hijab.

These women are marching shoulder to shoulder with men, chanting against the whole regime. They are facing guns and bullets and demanding an end to a system of gender apartheid.

Mahsa Amini was only 22 years old. She wasn’t uncovered; only a few strands of her hair showed. And yet she was arrested by the so-called “morality police” and packed off to jail. Three days later she was dead. Many Iranians are convinced she was killed —a belief reinforced by countless individual experiences with the brutality of the security services.

The news of her death has triggered outrage throughout Iran. Tens of thousands of demonstrators are defying security forces to ask why an innocent young woman lost her life to religious radicals who merely wanted to show off their militant male power. The compulsory hijab is not just a small piece of cloth for Iranian women; it is the most visible symbol of how we are oppressed by a tyrannical theocracy. Now, by drawing attention to that injustice, Mahsa’s death has the potential to serve as a new turning point for Iranian women.

They deserve the support of their Western counterparts. Yet so far we see little evidence that women in Europe or North America are willing to take to the streets to show their solidarity for a women’s revolution in Iran.

Recent experience has been discouraging. Over the past decade, we’ve seen female politicians from democratic countries — including Ségolène Royal from France, Catherine Ashton from the United Kingdom, and Federica Mogherini from Italy — don hijab on their visits to Iran. All these female politicians are quick to assert their feminist credentials in their own societies — but when it comes to Iran they go out of their way to show deference to the men who have elevated misogyny to a state principle. A regime that abuses and harasses millions of women each year does not deserve our respect. To do so makes a mockery of all our talk of universal human rights.

When the Women’s March took place in Washington, D.C., in 2017, I was happy to join. Along with the rest I chanted: “My body, my choice.” Some women might well choose to veil their faces and bodies in accordance with their religious or cultural beliefs — but that should be a matter of their own choice, not a rule imposed by the whips and clubs of men. Yet Western women seem only too happy to succumb to the standards dictated by the male tyrants in countries such as Afghanistan and Iran.

I don’t consider such feminists to be true advocates of women’s rights. The true feminists and women’s rights activists are those in Afghanistan and Iran who are stepping forward, at great cost, to resist the Taliban and Islamic republic. They are the true feminist leaders of the 21st century, risking their lives by facing guns and bullets. They will go on fighting against the regimes, and we who have the privilege to live in free countries should actively amplify their voices. This is the moment for women in the West to stand with Iran’s mothers, daughters and sisters.

I will not remain silent. I will continue to speak out until compulsory hijab laws are abolished. Like the women now taking to the streets in my home country, I, too, have been targeted by the regime. I have chosen to speak up despite that regime’s attacks on my family, and its attempts to have me abducted or killed. In this, I feel deep solitary with the thousands of women protesting in Iran. I will continue to do what I can to support their struggle, to help them achieve their rights.

My wish is for all of us to be louder than the tyrants. I call on the free world to join the protesters in calling for an end to the murderous regime of the ayatollahs. Iranian women are fighting to recover our dignity and exercise our personal freedoms — so that, one day, all Iranians can finally choose our government in free and fair elections. We shouldn’t be afraid of the religious fanatics and the jihadists. They are the ones who are frightened. It is why they seek to keep women down. Women in the streets are paying with their lives for change. But too many in the outside world are shaking hands with our murderers.

I am asking all Western feminists to speak up. Join us. Make a video. Cut your hair. Burn a headscarf. Share it on social media and boost Iranian voices. Use your freedom to say her name. Her name was Mahsa Amini.

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Lol bunking off the artillery ask, so we can be a completely deranged sociopath queen and (assuming we keep our capabilities on the ruling part) still rise to sit cozily on our blood soaked throne? Dang that's rad 😈

I hate it when stories punish the MC for being ruthless or crazy. Like it so obviously makes it so you have a "bad" ending. Ruthlessness is a quality that isn't expressly malicious in intent. People like Remiel don't wake up going "Mhm, it smells like a beautiful morning to go sicko mode and ruin the lives of others!" Its more like "Ah shit, lets see...whats the best way to get what i want and return the best investment for my effort?"

Ruthless characters in history have always existed and have been successful. Julius Caesar (you know him), Cao Cao (one of the warlords of the Three Kingdoms era), Augustus (first Roman Emperor), Qin Shi Huang (First Unifier of China), and Napoleon Bonaparte (Emperor of France and possibly last historical figure to stand with the men above.)

Is this something only linked with men? Fuuuuuck no. Lemme list some women up in here.

Wu Zetian The only Empress in China's 3,000-long history

Her reign was one of the more successful ones that economically benefited the country, militarily expanded the borders, and had an all-male harem for her own pleasure...home girl died at 81 after ruling for more than half a century.

Catherine the Great, Russian monarch who helped modernize her empire and even introduced vaccination to her people by being the first to try it out.

Hatshepsut, a female Pharoah of Egypt who put all the guys in her generation to shame. She launched a successful invasion, went on a building spree that following pharaohs would try to take credit for, and established new trading routes before dying in 1458 B.C. THATS 3,480 YEARS AGO!!!!! Give or take, i suck at math

Olympias, mother of Alexander the Great. Ima be honest. There wouldn't be an Alex if his momma didn't Game of Thrones the shit outta everyone else. She, "insisted she had a dream just before Alexander’s conception where a thunderbolt ignited her womb with an enormous fire." Supernatural street cred, check. She and her husband Philip II were fighting, baaaadly. So Philip married another girl and oh there popped a new baby boy! This of course meant a rival to our Alex since the baby was a full Macedonian. Now, I'm not saying Olympias killed her husband, buuuuut lets say she was quick with the aftermath. She immediately assassinated Alexander's half siblings, including the newborn baby boy, forced their mother to kill herself, destroyed the rival family, and then said, "Fuck it, it was true, I cheated on my husband WITH ZEUS!" Oh god and that's not even all..when her son Alexander finally did die, guess what she did. She marched on macedon with an army. And when an enemy army lined up against hers, she rode out, said "Im Alexander the great's mom, how bout dat?" and they joined her side instead. THEN with this new double army, she finished up killing another rival of hers; the queen famously sent Adea Eurydice a cup of poison, a noose, and a sword…then told her to choose how she would die. Eurydice chose to hang.

And of course Cleopatra, the one who banged Julius Caesar and Mark Anthony...that also spoke no less than nine languages, and possibly upwards of 12, who was also an author. She wrote a medicinal and pharmacological book called Cosmetics which included, amongst other things, remedies for male pattern baldness and dandruff. (I'm looking at Julius and Anthony...) She killed her brother and sister to consolidate her throne, led a fleet, and revitalized an Egypt that was in the down turn until her death.

Hope ive proven that ruthlessness, something all these ladies had to have in order to survive in a world where men traditional held power, is not the shoe in "bad trait" to have that modern writers portray it as.

[burnnouts]

Robb stood up. His drink was long forgotten, as was--for the first time in years--the overwhelming sense of dread that had followed him like a shadow for so long. The war itself had been terrible, yes, but it had had a clear solution, a path forward. Even when that path was muddled and his allies uncertain, Robb had known what he must do: march South, free his sisters, and kill the king. Fighting the White Walkers had been nothing at all like that. They could not die by sword or canon, and for every man of Robb's they killed, another was added to their own ranks. The Bear King had offered Robb the first life-line in an endless sea of dread, and even that had not saved them all.

But this news brought something new to worry about: not death or endless winter, but the future--and who might be a part of it.

"I'm coming with you," Robb declared. It was not a question or suggestion. He had spent far too much time waiting, dreading terrible news and feeling helpless in the face of unbeatable odds. He was not naive enough to believe that Beck still loved him. Too much time had passed, and if it was true that Beck had agreed to this, then perhaps she truly was ready for another love in her life. It seemed she had moved on. Or, perhaps, she was ready to fulfill her duty, as he had. He had married his wife, not for love but because it was what was expected of him, because it had kept peace within his troops and with his allies (and because Beck, the only woman he thought he might break his oath for, had left).

He did not expect her to call off this competition and run into his arms. But he did remember how brave she had been to leave her home so long ago, how she had longed to be free, to live on her own terms, to be more than what her family expected of her. Now, she had gone to great lengths to save Robb and his people. Years ago, she had saved his sisters. Now, she had saved all of the North. Whatever their relationship might now be--whatever feelings she may or may not still have for him--he owed her his life and the life of the thousands of people who had survived the long winter because of her.

"If you are going to speak with Beck or her family, I will go with you." He ignored the sudden, rapid beating of his heart, the way his pulse raced at the very idea of seeing her again. Perhaps Beck was being coerced. Women in Robb's world were rarely allowed to choose their husbands, after all. Whatever the case, he had to see her before she went through with this. "I have to see her. Before--before it is too late."

He was---confused. It wasn't an unfamiliar emotion. Especially when his thoughts surrounded Linnea Tandy. The Fox Queen was both praised and feared in every corner of their world. Known for her cunning and her ruthlessness alike, few would even dare to curse her name in private. Which was exactly why he was so confused.

The bench nearly splintered beneath his weight as he flopped down so carelessly. "Aye. It is... But it doesn't make any sense."

When he had arrived in Winterfell it'd been a favor to someone he loved. He could not shield her from the responsibilities and burdens that her family placed upon her. He could not keep Fenris Beck from dragging her from his halls kicking and screaming without risking all out war, and he couldn't tell Linnea Tandy to go fuck herself---or better yet go fuck her husband if she was so desperate for an heir to her throne. She was the matriarch of the family and the Queen of her clan. He had no blood connection to Beck to argue with either of them, but he had the strength, wealth, and good-nature to offer her one last comfort by saving the man she'd once loved and could not have. Then he had arrived in Winterfell to find Robb without a wife, and hope bubbled up in him. He'd imagined rushing to the Foxes once the humans were settled and bringing the two together once more.

"This is making no sense." Karl groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Several clans held competitions to marry off their highborn children. The Oxen Folk in particular put on grand spectacles, often to the death for noble women. The Reindeer and the Eagles did too---though those were rarely fatal and princesses and princes alike could be counted among the prizes. But the Tourney of Red Blossoms had never had such an honor. If it ever had, it was long before the reign of Linnea Tandy. She did not leave things up to chance, and she would have found the practice to be boorish even if she did.

"Why does she agree to this?" The question was partially for Robb, but also to himself. Had Beck truly given up so thoroughly that she didn't care whose bed she was tossed into, rather than a properly arranged affair. "Maybe this is the Wolf King's idea... He looks for someone strong to tie his sister to. Like when you put young mule with bigger, older mule to get it in control."

It certainly didn't sound like something Fenris would do, but he was at a loss. Karl tossed away the letter and swore as he stood to his feet.

"No. I am stopping this." He said sternly. Doing so wouldn't end well, but he couldn't fucking help himself. "The Seal Prince will carry you to your home. I---I must do something."