#toxic mothers tourney

[toxic-mothers-tourney]

Toxic Lightning Round 2: The Locked Tomb

Pelleamena Novenarius vs. Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity (Commander Wake)

Why they're the Worst (TM)

Pelleamena Novenarius

Killed 200 children (the entire child population of the planetoid she ruled) in order to give birth to a supernecromancer, emotionally abused the resulting supernecromancer daughter including making sure she knew she existed because of the deaths of 200 children, when said daughter committed a horrible blasphemy mostly by accident at 10 she and her husband killed herself and tried to get her daughter to kill herself with them

Couldn’t conceive so she murdered 200 children (an entire generation of the population of her planet) to use their life source to conceive a child. Told said child about how she was conceived from a very young age, causing the child to feel immense guilt about the deaths of all the other children and an extreme pressure to be worth it.

Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity (Commander Wake)

Commander Wake conceived her daughter specifically to sacrifice her in order to kill God and destroy the solar system. Wake further only refers to her daughter as Bomb throughout the entire pregnancy and the only reason that she did not manage to actually kill her daughter is because she died before she was able to do so. Wake then proceeded to haunt her daughter's sword as a revenant in order to attempt to invade the mind of her daughter's best friend.

Had a baby specifically to kill her in a blood ritual to release a “monster” believed to cause the apocalypse. Failed.

Had a child for the sole purpose of killing it as part of a ritual to open the door to the locked tomb. She refers to this baby as “the bomb” throughout her pregnancy.

mod notes: what in the everliving hell happens in these books...

[tournamentdirectory]

Toxic mothers are everywhere, but in fiction, we can make them fight. @toxic-mothers-tourney finds the most toxic mom in fiction.

Run by the same person as @red-black-aesthetic-bout; see their entry.

[atopvisenyashill]

i was thinking more about characters Performing Gender, but not necessarily Transgressing Gender. I wound up focusing on Ned and Sansa bc I feel like I understand them the most but-

Sansa as a hostage is imo the most obvious (bc it’s so well done) moment of someone clearly Performing Gender but not being transgressive in that performance. Which isn’t to say it’s not a complicated performance; it’s a fine line Sansa walks between weaponizing her gender to protect herself without seeming too fake. She’s trying to placate the Lannisters by playing the perfect, dedicated, air headed betrothed because it’s the only defense she has - if she outwardly rebels, she will be punished in a likely violent and/or sexual way (which isn’t even conjecture - when she says “or maybe he’ll give me yours” Joffrey has her struck with an armored hand). She’s not quite successful in being convincing but that’s because it’s a rather extreme situation; despite no one believing her, she does make herself seem meek and stupid enough that no one suspects she’s plotting to escape with Dontos until she’s well away from KL. The fact that she even has Dontos to confide in is because of Sansa’s relationship with gender! When she saves him, she covers her rebellious slip by playing up Joffrey’s intelligence & his role as King; she reaches for “tools” of her gender AND of ~proper manhood~ to save a life and herself from another beating. Her retreats into the godswood and silence are very much Sansa attempting to recharge from these draining interactions, the same way a knight would need to stop and eat and rest after a fight. She is fighting, constantly, by forcing herself to stay within the narrow confines of a specific type of gender performance as a way of shielding herself from harm.

Ned yelling at Cat is another big one, and I’ve seen the scene referred to as Ned using his patriarchal power to scare Cat, which is a great description. It feels like a Performance because Ned is putting on this terrifying Lord Stark mask in an attempt to get Catelyn to stop asking about Jon (and Lyanna). This is not how he usually acts with those he loves! When Ned is with His People, he is welcoming of questions, curiosity, emotion, even transgressive thought (to a point! the idea that Ned is a feminist because he lets Arya learn to fight is Not accurate but you can’t deny he allows significantly more flexibility wrt gender expression than most of the fathers we meet in this series. the bar is in hell tho). Yet when Cat asks him about Jon’s mother, Ned scares her so well she stops asking & still remembers the moment bitterly over a decade later. And if that snippet we see through Bran’s eyes of Ned praying that Cat will forgive him does come after she asks (like it’s suspected), it’s clear not only that this is a performance he’s putting on & weaponizing against Cat, it’s one he does not like using as a weapon against someone he is close to. After using the power his gender gives him to cause harm, he retreats to the godswood and silence to pray and rest, much like Sansa. A spiritual cleanse, the way a soldier may pray after battle, to reset and reconnect Being A Proper Man to Being A Kind Man.

I think there’s something interesting in that two of the characters most widely defined by how well they adhere to Westerosi gender norms both dislike feeling like they had to weaponize their gender. They are exhausted by the performance, because it’s a performance. This isn’t Sansa getting excited over tourneys, or Ned teaching his sons to fight; it’s toxic masculinity, it’s structural misogyny. It’s something they’re good at, excel at, and connected to something they enjoy but when it’s paired with violence, whether done by Ned or done to Sansa, it crosses over in their minds from an innate part of themselves (The Gender) to a performance necessary due to survival (The Gender Role). And that after these performances, both retreat to nature & god as a way of resting and cleansing from the experience.

[favorite-music-tourney]

The round 1 polls for the favorite songs tourney

Suddenly I see by KT Tunstall - Misery Business by Paramore

Voodoo by Godsmack - Teenagers by My Chemical Romance

Genie in a Bottle By Christina Aguilera - Life on Mars by David Bowie

Lovefool by the Cardigans - Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Harness Your Hopes by Pavement - Rent By the Pet Shop Boys

Gotta Get Up by Harry Nilsson - Virtual Insanity by Jamiroquai

It's too Late by Carole King - Romeo and Juliet by the Indigo Girls

A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton - Good Old Fashioned Lover boy by Queen

Technicolor Dreams by the Bee Gees - Me and Bobby Mcgee by Janis Joplin

Maintain the Madness by Jane Austen Argument - The Logical Song by Supertramp

Voulez-Vous by ABBA - Your Day Will Come by Streetlight Manifesto

All Day and All Night by The Kinks - Rule #21 Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage

Fuck it by Days N Daze - The City of New Orleans by Arlo Guthrie

Budapest by George Ezra - Riptide by Vance Joy

True Trans Soul Rebel by Against Me! - Father and Son by Cat Stevens

Hungry Dog in the Street by The Taxpayers - Loose Lips by Kimya Dawson

Black Bird by the Beatles - Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman

Season of the Witch by Donovan - Volcano Girls by Veruca Salt

Friday I'm in Love by The Cure - Just Dance by Lady Gaga

Somebody Told me by the Killers - You Gotta Die Sometime from Falsettos

Love Me I'm a Liberal by Phil Ochs - Touch Me by the Doors

Ohio by Neil Young - Plate Glass Apology by Apes of the State

Sweet Talkin Woman by Electric Light Orchestra - She Has a Girlfriend Now by Reel Big Fish

The Past Is a Grotesque Animal by Of Montreal - Vienna by Billy Joel

A-Punk by Vampire Weekend - 15-Step by Radiohead

Float On by Modest Mouse - TERF bangs by Butch Baby

Toxic by Britney Spears - American Pie by Don McLean

Call Me Al by Paul Simon - Spiderwebs by No Doubt

Manic Monday by The Bangles - Body by Mother Mother

Monday Monday by The Mama's and the Papa's - Once in a lifetime by the Talking Heads

Rio by Duran Duran - People by AJJ

Bugs by Jesse Welles - Man on the Moon by R.E.M.

Glad to Be Gay by Tom Robinson Band - All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix

Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage - Diamonds and Rust by Joan Baez

Lyndon Johnson Told the Nation by Tom Paxton - Hot Stuff by Donna Summer

Culling of the Fold by the Decemberists - Video Killed the Radio Star by the Buggles

For What It’s Worth by Buffalo Springfield - Two Headed Boy by Neutral Milk Hotel

Pink Triangle by Weezer - Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult - Gold On the Ceiling by The Black Keys

Make your own kinda music by Cass Elliot - Micheal by Franz Ferdinand

Renegade by Styx - Gay Bar by the Electric Six

Major Tom (Völlig losgelöst) - Frank Sinatra by CAKE

Dog Days are Over by Florence + the Machine - The Impression That I get by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones

Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield - & by Tally Hall

[dysfunctional-family-fight]

Submissions Closed!

Welcome to the tournament to find the most dysfunctional fictional family! This will be your typical bracket format, with 64 fucked up families competing. Biological or adopted, if they're family and they have issues about it, submit them here!

Submissions closed July 16.

Rules and Guidelines

You can submit as many families as you want, but don't submit a specific family more than once. Any more than that will not be counted.

Families don't have to be abusive, just dysfunctional.

You are free to send propoganda on what makes a family so messed up, but let's be civil here. No death threats, no attacking others, no hate.

No real families will be included. Fictional only.

No OC families.

inspirations include: @found-family-tournament, @toxic-mothers-tourney, @most-irresponsible-guardian, @bestfictionaldivorce, @shittycartoonmomshowdown, @terrible-child-tournament, @siblingshowdown, @controversial-blorbo-bracket, @foundfamily-tournament

[sigma-showdown]

Is your fave a loner? Is she "not like other girls"? Is her conceptualization of ethics, romance, and/or hygiene incongruent with the rest of society? No, she's not a femcel. She is SIGMA!

Submit your Sigmas to the SIGMA FEMALE SHOWDOWN and prove who is the ultimate girlfailureboss

Rules:

Characters must be Sigma

Characters must be Female (defined broadly)

Submit as many Sigmas as you want, but don't make multiple submissions for the same one

Real life people aren't allowed unless it's funny

Submissions may be disqualified at the tournament runner's discretion

If you have any questions about qualifications, contact me

Submissions are accepted for the rest of the month.

Inspired by:

@girlbosstourney @dumbass-duo-showdown @autismswagsummit @top-teacher-tourney @white-boy-bracket @toxic-mothers-tourney @hot-take-tournament @techgirltourney

[deadmenandthedivine]

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter seven: the fate of wagging tongues

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 5746

“May I present Princess Maetilda Targaryen, first of her name, Lady of Runestone. Daughter to Prince Daemon Targaryen and his late wife Lady Rhea Royce!”

There were more people gathered in the Throne Room of the Red Keep than she had ever seen gathered at Dragonstone, outside of tourneys. The crowd was similar in size to that of her late stepmother’s funeral. Oh, the delightful spectacle that was her family’s fate. The logic of it was painfully reasonable. Of course the Realm would care to know. The state of her family was thought to reflect the state of the kingdom. What troubled the Crown, troubled its people. A healthy royal family was more likely to bring forth a thriving realm. Reversely, every little argument or skirmish was the omen of their collective downfall. Nothing could ever just be what it was. Especially the Hearing. It was not simply the settling of an inheritance; it would also set a precedent. If Lucerys’s inheritance was ruled illegitimate, so too could his mother’s. Maetilda’s mind struggled to imagine what would happen without the favor of such precedent, but she knew the entire conclusion would be disastrous. She had entered the hall alone, and was announced on her own. She bore a title that her brothers did not. She held an inheritance that no one disputed, no one questioned. One that even the Arryns of the Eyrie backed. Their house and that of her mother had been respectful rivals for generations, constantly waged in honorable competition. They were the far less vitriolic Blackwoods and Brackens. The Royces of Runestone had knelt to the Arryns of the Eyrie at the end of the Era of the Bronze Kings. All because one Keep was easier to defend than the other. Yet they all knew who held more power. An older branch of the Royce family held the Keep of the Arryn’s winter home. Surnames of Royce could be found all throughout the Vale. Their blood ran deeper than any ocean or valley. Lady Rhea had been loved and respected, and thus her only child was too. If only the same treatment could have been extended toward the girl’s step brothers. Ser Laenor himself had loved the boys, and treated them as his own. No matter what the whispers had said.

The princess descended the front steps alone, just as she had entered, with no man on her arm to accompany her. It was a symbol of strength. A calculated move that her father had dictated long ago. It would especially help that day. Without his daughter’s own strength in legitimacy, his wife would have even less of a leg to stand on. While Rhaenyra had the King’s word, the King no longer sat present at court. Instead his prudent and pious wife and her shrewd Hightower father took his place. The two of them stared down over the court with owlish eyes, watching every move. Ser Otto stood higher up the steps than his only daughter, ready to sit when the proceeding began. Indistinct whispering filled the room as Maetilda made her way over to the side of the room where her father and stepmother stood. Eyes watched her steps for any sign of falter. Lucerys stood towards the front, next to his mother, in full view of the court. He tried to hide his nerves, but the princess could tell by the shifting of his weight from leg to leg that he was ready to run at a moment’s notice. Jacaerys stood next to her father. He was more impassioned than anxious. His shoulders rolled back in an honorable and confident manner. He looked dignified and respectful. Firm and just. Just as the heir’s heir should. Both princes were dressed similarly in red and black. Dragons decorated their surcoats, collars, and jewelry. The princess’s attire fit in well with theirs. Maetilda assumed the small spot next to Jace. Ser Gunthor flanked behind her in his full bronze armor regalia.

With a scan of the room, the princess quickly determined that they were all waiting on her cousin, Princess Rhaenys. The Queen that Never Was never seemed to miss an opportunity to make an entrance. She had no problem with making the Court wait. It was a quality, among many others, that the princess had always admired in her older cousin — her confidence, her poise, her style, her discernment, her cunning. Even when all of Court was waiting on her, the princess-by-title felt nothing but awe towards the woman. The day before, Maetilda had noticed in the brief moments she saw the three just how much Rhaenys’ likeness had rubbed off on Baela and Rhaena. They had each followed on Rhaenys’ sides like Laena-esque clones. Even down to the way that they walked, the twins replicated each aspect of Rhaenys. The princess-by-title’s twin sisters had been raised by their royal grandmother ever since Lady Laena’s funeral, while Maetilda was kept on a ball-and-chain close by her father at all times. She often wondered what her life would have been like if Princess Rhaenys had taken her in too, but those were only privy dreams. The princess-by-title anxiously turned her head to look at her sworn knight behind her. It comforted her to know that no matter what, she would always have her friend at her side. Even when her family wasn’t, her knights were. When her eyes caught a glimpse of Ser Gunthor and his beautiful protection rune-covered armor, the knight had already seemed to have his eyes focused on something. He was looking just beyond her, straight over her head. She followed his eye, turning back around to find Prince Aemond staring back at them from his place with his mother and siblings on the high steps. The sight caused her to jump in surprise, not expecting it. Her cheeks heated up as she caught the attention of Jace who leaned toward her.

“Did you just spook?” He whispered as he held back laughter.

“Like a bloody horse.” She joked.

The prince laughed at his step sister’s expense before turning to his mother and stepfather. The two were whispering to each other off in their own world, and it was clear he wanted to know what they were saying. He did not spare his step sister another glance. Something she was thankful for, no more attention drawn her way. Prince Aemond’s gaze was unrelenting. It had not budged. Nervously, she glanced back at her knight. He had not moved, his stare had not broken either. For a moment, she wondered if the two had simply been innocently staring at each other, but she knew better than that. None of her knights had ever shown interest in pissing contests, certainly not one with the King’s second son. It was something she had always appreciated. They had always been more concerned about each individual hair on her head than how their names appeared on the tourney lists. Yet in that moment, her gut could not determine who had started the stand off. It told her the culprit could not have been her knight, but she also could not understand why the prince would have cared to stare otherwise. Had Ser Gunthor overheard something that had angered him? Her mind raced with possibilities. A small part of her worried for the worst. Perhaps the Hightowers had forgotten themselves completely and he overheard them question her. Her name, her title, her inheritance. She would be beyond naive to think the green-clad family would avoid stooping so low. From the very state of the castle, they had already proved they were not above treason. Deciding that whatever the reason may be, she would agree with her knight, the princess turned back toward her cousin and glared back at him. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders for good measure. She watched as his interest visibly peaked at her actions. He even had the audacity to smirk. As if by some miracle, the doors to the Throne Room opened behind them all. It gave her the perfect excuse to break their trance.

“I present Princess Rhaenys Targaryen of Driftmark, wife to Lord Corlys Velaryon, Master of Driftmark and Ser Lord of the Tides. She is accompanied by her granddaughters, Ladies Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, daughters to Prince Daemon Targaryen and late Lady Laena Velaryon.”

The princess’s sisters and their grandmother were beyond elegant; they were ethereal and imposing. They took the breath away from the entire room as they descended the steps and took their place behind Rhaenys’s late brother-in-law’s son, Ser Vaemond Velaryon. Gazes lingered on the three, including that of Maetilda’s, even after they had ceased walking. She wanted nothing more than to be like them, to be one of them. It was even harder to quell such feelings when she saw them together. Like watching a life she could have had play out in front of her eyes. A throat at the front of the hall loudly and pointedly cleared all obstructions in order to gain the room’s attention. Careful not to catch the prince’s eye again, Maetilda snapped her focus onto the Hightower as she turned.

“Though it is the hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark.” Ser Otto began, his voice echoed across the hall from his position in front of her Uncle’s throne, “As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.”

With finality, he sat his pompous posterior on the chair of a thousand swords, “The Crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

Lord Vaemond was a proud man. She could tell by the glance he threw in her stepbrothers’ direction before he stepped forward before the court. His steps were slow and deliberate as they, too, echoed. His silver locks were pulled away from his face and he donned the ocean green colors of his house. He looked every bit the part of Lord of Driftmark. Perhaps Lucerys should have worn Velaryon colors too. Although she wondered if such a frivolous distinction would truly bring about a better outcome.

“My Queen,” The son of the second son bowed his head to Alicent before doing the same toward the Throne, “My Lord Hand.”

An uneasy air filled the room in the moment of his pause. He was relishing in his moment, smugly confident. He held his arms behind his back as if he were ready for any challenge. His chin was pointed straight into the air as if her entire family sat below it. Something in her gut told Maetilda that he seemed too confident. Wondering if she had been reading the man wrong or over thinking matters, she spared a glance toward her family to gauge their reactions. She spotted her father’s sharp stance and hawk-like eyes immediately. It was clear that he was feeling similarly, which was slightly comforting. It was even better to see his anger directed at someone that was not her after the morning they had.

“The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas.” His speech began, “When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that if they were to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name.”

As Vaemond spoke, the princess let her eyes move away from her family and about the room. From the looks spread across various faces, his words were resonating loud and clear. They seemed to hang onto his every word, cogs turning his sentences over in their heads. It was clear they held many meanings, both innocent and blasphemous. Her blood warmed at the thought of what he would say next. The faces of Court did not help to calm her. Before she could stop the thought from physically moving her muscles, she quickly glanced back at Aemond. His eye still had not moved. It seemed to have been fixed on her the entire time. An intense, unreadable stare.

The son of the second son fixed his surcoat before continuing with more diction, “I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my uncle’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood.”

Jace’s body stiffened next to her. She could see Lucerys do the same beside his mother out of the corner of her eye. Had the King been present, the knight would have been treading on thin ice. But the King was not present. Those with the deciding vote shared in the knight’s sentiments. Her family had yet to shake the nest, yet the wasps swarmed regardless. The little green wasps had begun to bite and sting, yet she knew the worst was to come. Aemond only smirked at the son of the second son’s implications. Their eyes remained locked together as the princess stewed. Of course, Aemond had made his own stance on the matters clear the night that Lucerys had taken his eye. He had used the treasonous slur and was questioned by the King in front of everyone. Yet, there a man with lesser standing stood and hurled the same venom — unharmed and likely to be rewarded. It must have felt gratifying for him. Knotting her hands behind her back, she sent Aemond a pointed glare before glancing back at her knight. Ser Gunthor stood as steadfast as always, eyes still pointed directly at the prince. She hoped that he had at least blinked. By the looks of him, she could not be sure.

“The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” Lord Vaemond stole her focus and attention back onto himself.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Rhaenyra remarked, audibly rolling her eyes, “If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambitions.”

“You will have your chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,” Alicent interjected firmly.

Not good. The green-clad peacocks would most certainly accuse Rhaenyra of hysterics if she continued with outbursts. They would claim she lacked foresight or patience. That was all they needed as proof. It would be all too convenient for them. As if to make her point, the son of the second son spun defiantly on his heel to face the King’s heir. Rhaenyra kept her gaze held forward at the Throne, not sparing a glance in the cocky man’s direction. Such attention would have only encouraged him.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.”

To punctuate his statement, he gave Lucerys a hard glance before turning back to face the Hightowers perched on the high steps, “My Queen, My Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my uncle’s successor, The Lord of Driftmark, and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.” Ser Otto smiled curtly from the Throne.

The entire hall was silent aside from the footsteps of the proud knight returning to his spot in front of Princess Rhaenys. The weight of his words took time to be fully realized. He had truly implied treason in front of the King’s heir, the Hand, the Queen, and all of Court. He had done so with his full chest with no hesitation or remorse. Not one person voiced a complaint, aside from Rhaenyra herself. The Queen had defended his right to speak. For a moment, Maetilda had wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. But of course, she locked eyes with her cousin once more. His brow was furrowed in concentration, only to rise in challenge when she looked at him. He was smug, he stood comfortably. Relaxed back with a majority of his weight on one of his legs. His arms were held behind his back. She wanted to slap the look off of his face, take her anger and uncertainty out on him. She wondered if he could sense it, her bloodthirsty rage. His face was getting harder and harder for her to read, more difficult than any book. Once again, she glanced back at her knight for reassurance. Was he seeing what she was? Did he know the castle well enough to smuggle her out if need be? He had his hand on the hilt of his sword. If any of the Kingsguard noticed, they could start an avalanche. She felt as if she were trapped inside a cauldron over a fire. The temperature would only grow hotter if she did not get out.

The second son on the chair of a thousand swords savored his next words. He rolled them around in his mouth with a proud smirk before he smugly granted, “Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

The princess-by-title felt no more comfortable as the Realm’s Delight took her own confident and defiant steps forward. Her moniker almost seemed to serve as a mockery in that very moment. All of the Realm seemed to look down upon her like the statues of the Seven that towered to the ceilings of the hall. Her hands were fidgety like Lucerys’s, despite how much she tried to keep an air of authority. Maetilda admired her stepmother. If nothing else, she was an incredibly brave and resilient woman. She killed boars, rode dragons, challenged the word of arrogant lords, endured many deaths of those close to her, and had even jumped in front of a valyrian steel dagger wielded by the Queen. She was much more than simply a delight. She was a force to be reckoned with. However, the world had been flipped on its head. The Heir seemed pathetically powerless in comparison to the Hightowers on the high steps. Her hands were tied. Despite the strength he brought in spades, all her husband behind her could do was stand menacingly and glare. Maetilda’s hair on her arms and neck stood on edge as she put the pieces together in her mind. All they seemed to have was names and looks and words, no bite to accompany their bark. While they were at Dragonstone, they had been leashed. Without any sort of warning. If the Hightowers truly had already made up their mind, there was nothing Rhaenyra could say or do.

Her own proclamation started off in an exasperated tone, “If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very—“ Her words fell into nothing as the sound of the Great Hall’s doors squeaking open echoed above her.

The room simultaneously turned to the entrance, curious as to who would have the audacity to interrupt so late into their assembly. Tiredly bent in the center of the doorway stood the King. In all his grandeur. Maetilda’s heart skipped a beat before she dared to rub her right eye in order to assure she was not seeing anymore figures.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” The page proudly announced.

The walking stick echoed about the room as His Grace made his dignified entrance. The entire room held their breath in awe before respectfully bowing their heads in greeting. Slowly but steadily, King Viserys limped down the steps and across the hall. His breath and pace were labored. His limbs shook from strain. His robe struggled to stay in place atop his frail, haggard shoulders. But he had never looked more strong, more kingly. The fires around the hall burned brighter as his presence blew a breath of life about the room. Maetilda stood straighter than she ever had before. She could not help the victorious grin that had spread across her face. The tables had turned. Rhaenyra’s words would no longer fall on closed ears. The King was there. Ser Otto descended from his unrighteous place to make way. His Grace huffed and puffed as he approached. Maetilda could have sworn she saw the Hightower tremble with fear. It filled her with the utmost pride.

“I will sit the throne today.” The King triumphantly declared.

“Your Grace,” Otto nodded.

Without another word, King Viserys began to climb the last set of stairs. He took to the first steps uneasily, stumbling back a bit. One of his Kingsguard rushed forward to assist him only to be exasperatedly shook off. The King’s niece had full confidence in him. He had made it all the way through the Red Keep already. The last steps would be the most familiar ones. Just as she knew he would, his Grace took each step at a time. But it was clear that the all-too-familiar steps seemed to be the hardest as his momentum was wearing thin. He hunched farther and farther over his walking stick as he relied on it to pull his body upward. Seeing him just turn down the knight, her feet felt planted in their spot. Internally, she prayed to the gods that had sent the black cloak away. She begged them to carry him up to his rightful place for all of the Court to see him. As if in direct answer, her father emerged forward. The rest of the hall seemed to be just as frozen as the princess. No Kingsguard reacted as he ascended the steps. The sound of metal clanking echoed from the front of the hall and up into the rafters, but the source was obscured by her father’s figure. As soon as he reached the King, the Rogue Prince gathered him before taking on a majority of his weight. The brothers finished the last steps together. The younger sat his elder in his rightful place and ceremoniously sat the displaced crown back onto Viserys’s head. With the most respect she had ever seen her father give someone, he bowed to the King before returning to the place he had previously occupied. The princess could have sworn she was still dreaming in her bed. Perhaps she had fallen asleep at breakfast. The King’s chest rose and fell with great effort as he sat up to begin speaking.

“I must… admit… my confusion.” He stated, “I do not understand why petitions are being held over a settled succession.”

The entire room shifted.

“The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

The eyes around the hall were suddenly all on the Queen Who Never Was. She seemed hardly phased by them all. As if not a single one held any significance to her. She looked at no one, but her cousin. No other person was worthy of her knowledge or her gaze. It made one want to look at her all the more. Her presence was mesmerizing.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” She smirked before stepping forward.

Like a crane moving through water, she took soft, calculated strides to the front. Much like her husband’s nephew, Princess Rhaenys savored her moment. She assured that she had each and every ear and eye before she began, “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true-born son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

At her words, the entire hall lurched back in whispers and gasps. It should have been the reactions they had to Vaemond’s insults. Instead, it was in reaction to the King’s own will. Such a display nauseated the princess-by-title. The Kingdom truly had been turned on its head. But Rhaenys was not done.

“His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

The Court had lurched back in shock before, but they completely dissolved into hysterics after that. The lords and ladies around the room tried pathetically to keep their voices at a hush as they gossiped into each others’ ears. It was a watertight proposal, two watertight proposals. They politically sealed much of Rhaenyra and her brothers’ claim. Their only other problems would be Aegon, his two small boys, and Aemond. But they were a bridge to be crossed upon arrival. The entire hall seemed to be buzzing, yet the princess-by-title remained frozen in place. Maetilda felt like the floor had been pulled out from underneath her. All of her siblings of age had been betrothed in one fell swoop. She was happy for them, happy for what their marriages meant, but she was utterly terrified of what it meant for her. The last one left, the least desirable, the spinster. Her father had hated Runestone and everything about it, reminded her frequently. Perhaps no one wanted Runestone. Or worse, did not find the castle worth putting up with her. There had to be a deeper explanation. Her father allowed for his two other daughters to be engaged, both of them. But not her. She also felt guilty for thinking of herself in such a moment. A moment where she should have been congratulating her four siblings. Instead, she was thinking of herself and why her father did not love her like he loved her sisters. He had always spent more time with them, wrote more letters to them, and bought them more presents. She scolded herself for not seeing it coming sooner. Yet something about the entire arrangement felt too calculated. Like an internal pull she could not shake, her gut twisted with suspicion. Something wasn’t right. It did not feel right. Suddenly becoming aware of the dryness in her eyes, she blinked back out of her head. The King was wheezing as he spoke. He was listing off the titles that Corlys currently bore, likely proclaiming Lucerys to be the inheritor of them. She was not sure how long he had been speaking for, but the hall was eerily silent. Feeling an itch on her nose, she peaked at Aemond out of the corner of her eye to see if he had been watching her drown in her inner turmoil. He had been.

“You break law…” Vaemond stepped forward again with a menacing passion, “and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me… who desires to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

Once again, the entire room shifted. Was he mad? He was undoubtedly furious, but he had to have lost his head. After double checking that her knight was still located diligently behind her, the princess-by-title gawked at the son of late Lord Corwyn’s second son with an open mouth. It was like she could see the sword fight about to break out in front of her. Shoulders tensed, hands moved to hilts. The cauldron over the fire that they were all trapped in was about to boil over.

“Allow it?” The King dared, “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

Vaemond stared at him blankly before shortly pivoting with an accusatory finger pointed at the boys, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Go to your chambers,” Rhaenyra pushed her sons toward the doors before turning to the proud man, “You have said enough.”

The boys fell back, but moved no farther away. They were not children anymore. They would not run and hide at their mother’s command as they used to. Rather, they stood behind each side of her as she turned back to Ser Vaemond, ready to fight him with her bare hands alone. Her breath was heavy and uneven. Her fists shook with barely contained rage. She opened her mouth to spit insults back, only for her beloved father to start speaking in her place.

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you… no more than a second son of Driftmark.” The King reminded him.

“You… may run your house how you see fit… But you will not decide the future of mine.” Vaemond seethed, “My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. Gods be damned… I will not see it ended on the account of this—“

He was smart enough to hold his tongue from speaking any farther. The air of the hall felt so hot and thick, it was as if it were on fire. And like a burning fire, the princess could not look away. She stared wide eyed in hardly masked horror. Her gut screamed for her to run. Whatever happened next would not be good. But she could not move, it would be inappropriate of her. All she could do was watch.

“Say it.” Her father smiled a soft alligator grin.

“BASTARDS! The lot of them!” Vaemond bellowed.

Hot silence permeated the room as the Velaryon decided to throw all further caution to the wind while he gestured toward the future Queen, “And she… she is a whore!”

Gusts of wind blew through the windows. Rats squeaked and scurried through the walls. Servants tip toed about their responsibilities. It was so silent, one could hear all the other activity happening around the Keep. In the expanse of the Great Hall, not a single being or creature moved a muscle. Most held their breath. At the front of the room, from on top of his throne, the King’s chest heaved. With all the strength that he could muster, he unsheathed the dagger from his side and stood on shaky legs. It was as if Aegon the Conqueror had possessed his great great grandson himself. Pure fire poured from out of his eyes. His ears smoked. He fought to catch his breath amidst his emotions.

“I… will have… your tongue for that.”

Before the King could even enunciate his last word, Vaemond Velaryon’s head was sliced in two — right down the corners of his mouth. The top slid off the bottom. His legs remained standing in the seconds his muscles still held strength. Maetilda’s heart stopped as she watched the man’s body hit the floor, wincing with each individual splat. The sound of it echoed off of the walls. The hall remained silent. What a quick and final conclusion. There was no longer a matter to be settled. All arguments had turned into puddles on the floor. Wiping any blood or other bits off of the beautiful blade of Dark Sister and onto his pristine black surcoat, her father stood proudly at the dead man’s feet. His kill.

“He can keep his tongue.”

“Disarm him!” The commander of the Kingsguard declared after processing the moment. His subordinates unsheathed their weapons and pointed them at the King’s brother.

“No need.” As nonchalantly and unapologetically as a cat in the sun, Daemon stepped back and sheathed his sword.

Maetilda could not peel her eyes away from it. Sounds of the King’s groaning and the Queen calling for maesters were muffled in her ears as her senses numbed to hone in on sight alone. She had never seen inside one’s skull before. She had seen blood and entrails before, always at a distance from her place in the royal box at tourneys. She had seen the mangled flesh of Aemond’s eye socket as the Maester at Driftmark sewed it shut with careful hands. She had seen her stepmothers’ multiple childbirths including the passing of the afterbirth. Yet never before had her eyes gazed upon that which belonged inside someone’s head. She could have sworn it was still moving and twitching — thinking. The pink and dark red muscles and nerve endings that were once tightly coiled together started to sag out of place from where they once were. There was so much blood. It leaked like a water vase full of hairline cracks. The man’s body that was once so full of life and anger and passion was left limp and sagging and motionless on the Throne Room floor.

The same shoes that once stood at the dead man’s feet began to move towards her, careful, quick steps. It sent her heart into a panicked race. She was next. It was her turn to pay the price. It was her fault. She had disobeyed orders and now the man was dead. She could already hear the words coming. Her own shoes backed away in the direction of her knight. She hoped and prayed that he had remained to protect her. Her eyes lost focus as the blurry figure moved forward. The breaths in her chest scratched at her throat as it tightened. She needed to run, she needed to get out. Her blood pumped quicker as her limbs itched for movement. She should fight back. The blurry figure halted suddenly, she did the same. The blob’s shoulders bounced with angry breaths. Her breathing only got harder. Desperately, the princess clutched at the stays covering her chest. Where was Ser Gunthor? Why wasn’t he coming to her aide? The figure attempted a second approach, but she evaded it once again. She put more space between them this time, backing up until her back hit that of another person. Forgetting her manners, where or who she was, the princess did not turn to apologize. Instead her gaze focused on the black leather shoes. Not knowing how to fight back, she shook her head ‘no.’ Fear, relief, confusion, panic, despair, paranoia, a confusing conglomerate of it all. She wondered if that’s what Vaemond was feeling before he had died. She wondered if he looked down upon them then. If he floated idly over the scene while he waited for the Stranger to come and take him. If he knew what was to happen to him, would he have still spoke the words he did? Would he have expressed remorse at a trial? Were his words truly worthy of death? What crime could ever be worthy of such a sentence?

A/N: This is the longest chapter I’ve written so far!! (there are some even longer ones locked in the arsenal) This is also the first chapter that’s majorly based on one of the scenes from the show. You like?????

oh and also, I may or may not talk up the importance of House Royce for my own convenience, let’s all just enjoy this ride together 0:)

xoxo messy

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

Gertrude Robinson art courtesy of @spiralstain.

Propaganda under the cut.

Mapleshade:

Ok I also submitted her to the toxic mothers tourney, so my description here is the exact same thing that I submitted there. THIS IS NOT PLAGIARISM. I AM THE ORIGINAL SUBMITTER. Mapleshade was a cat who died several generations before the main series began. She had kids through an illegal relationship with the man who killed her leader’s son, and she and her very young children were ultimately exiled from their Clan when the truth of their parentage was revealed. Mapleshade tried to take them across the river to their father, and all three kittens were swept away and drowned. Mapleshade then went on a grief-fueled killing spree, driven by hallucinations of her dead children urging her to kill the cats she perceived to be responsible for their deaths. Eventually, she confronted her ex and his pregnant mate (bc oh yeah, it turns out Mapleshade was the Other Woman), and the ex was killed protecting his pregnant mate. Mapleshade also died in this fight, but her hatred was so strong that she basically became a demon in cat hell and declared eternal suffering on her ex’s entire bloodline. Two generations later, the ex’s grandson breaks his jaw as a kitten and is rejected by his mother. Mapleshade swoops in as a maternal figure and promises to make the poor kid into the best warrior he can be, despite his broken jaw being a significant disability. She grooms and manipulates him throughout his entire life, and every person he loves dies horribly, one by one. Whether or not Mapleshade actually caused these deaths is unclear, but she does make Crookedstar (the cat she’s been manipulating) believe that she’s caused them. This is because when Crookedstar was a small, rejected child, she made him promise her that he would always put his Clan first. Being a kid, Crookedstar made the promise without a second thought, not realizing that Mapleshade meant that he could never be close with anyone (since that would mean putting his loved ones before his Clan). Therefore, Crookedstar thinks that every death of his loved ones is a punishment from Mapleshade, his maternal figure, for breaking the promise he made as a kitten.

Gertrude Robinson:

She is the definition of the trolley problem. Sacrificing those who trusted her in order to save the world, only to find out the world would have been safe either way.

Gertrude is a badass old lady who killed many people and many monsters, ate people’s fears and forced information out of them. She manipulated folks into doing what she needed, neglected the health of one of her closest allies, and stopped several apocalyptic rituals. She was only stopped because the guy trying to manipulate her into ending the world shot her in the chest three times. Morally gray queen, rest in violence maam

She once dismembered a guy and dumped him in a sinkhole, destroying an entire town, in order to prevent the end of the world. She's dedicated to preventing various armageddons, and her favorite methods to do so involve plastic explosives.

[bangerbattlethemes]

battle of the battle themes

I've been following these poll tourneys very closely and got an idea for one of my own! I love video game OST's and thought it'd be fun to make one about that, especially since music has been a less explored venue than characters.

Qualifications:

Must be from a video game

Must coincide with some kind of battle with the video game's enemies. Something that hypes you up and makes you feel unstoppable!

General battle themes or boss fight themes welcome

Some examples I had in mind: With Twilight of the Gods from Shadows of Valentia, God Shattering Star from Fire Emblem Three Houses, Song of the Ancients (Fate) from Nier Replicant/Gestalt

Y'all can submit those or whatever you want! In fact I'm excited to find new OST's to listen to!

Rules:

I won't tolerate any rudeness or toxicity. Any offenders will be blocked.

No botting/cheating either, please. Let's just have a fun time here.

No video games that are very NSFW in nature please!

You can only submit your song once but you are free to send in multiple. Basically, no flooding with a repeat confession.

Propaganda is welcome, especially during the submission phase if you want a song submitted- though for the most part the music will be speaking for itself I think!

This is something very new for me and I don't rlly know much about tournament seeding or w/e so it'll probably be randomized. Please be patient with me!

Submissions have been closed early so I can include more people- sorry about that!

Other poll tourneys that inspired me to make one:

@pinkhairswagtourney @redhairswagtournament @sleepsmackdown @mad-scientist-showdown @purplegreenbracket @patheticmenscuffle @redandgreenpoll @fashiondisastertournament

Have fun; current polls are under read more for ease of access!

All Polls

Ace Attorney | Winner: Pursuit ~ Cornered ARMS Preliminary | Winner: Name Redacted Bravely Default Preliminary | Winner: Serpent Eating The Horizon Dai Gyakuten Saiban Preliminary | Winner: Partners ~ The Game is Afoot! Earthbound/Mother Epic Battle Fantasy Preliminary | Winner: Return of the Snow Queen Fire Emblem Preliminary | Winner: God Shattering Star Final Fantasy | Winner: One-Winged Angel Genshin Impact Preliminary | Winner: Scaramouche's Theme Granblue Fantasy Preliminary | Winner: Paradise Lost Hades Preliminary | Winner: God of the Dead Hollow Knight Preliminary | Sealed Vessel Kingdom Hearts Preliminary | Winner: Vector to the Heavens Kirby Preliminary | Winner: Masked Dedede Mad Rat Dead Preliminary | Winner: Ghost of Culvert Miitopia Preliminary | Winner: The Darkest Lord Monster Hunter Preliminary | Winner: Bewitching Dance (Mizutsune Theme) Octopath Traveler Preliminary | Winner: Decisive Battle II Persona Preliminary | Winner: Rivers in the Desert Pokemon Preliminary | Winner: Battle! Champion Cynthia/Battle! Pokemon Wielder Volo Splatoon Preliminary | Winner: Fly Octo Fly/Ebb and Flow The Legend of Zelda Preliminary | Winner: Revali's Theme 2 Toontown: Corporate Clash Preliminary | Winner: Guilt and Resentment Touhou Project Preliminary | Winner: U.N. Owen Was Her Transistor Preliminary | Winner: In Circles/_n C_rcl_s ULTRAKILL Preliminary | Winner: The Death of God's Will Undertale/Deltarune Preliminary | Winner: Death by Glamour Xenoblade Chronicles Preliminary | Winner: You Will Know Our Names Yakuza Preliminary | Winner: One-Eyed Slugger

Preliminaries We're Working On (Up Next)... None, all have been posted!

[toxic-mothers-tourney]

Toxic fictional mothers tournament!

About

this bracket is focused on finding the WORST unhinged woman inflicting psychological damage to the people around them, especially their families/kids

no real people or OCs

this poll is not meant to glorify or romanticize abusive behavior. be safe and use your best judgement for yourself

a note on content warnings: obviously every entry here will involve some degree of emotional abuse, manipulation, etc. and physical abuse is also common for many of the characters. for cases that include further CWs am adding a content warning at the beginning of each character-specific propaganda in the poll. as stated earlier, I will not be including any character whose nomination is due to sexual violence or abuse. PLEASE let me know if you'd like anything else warned for

mod: bi, uses she/her, and is pro-choice I love abortion and trans rights 💪 also I hate proshippers get a life

Other info

all art is either official, a screenshot/panel of the media, a stock image, or from the wiki page

bracket will be 32 characters and rounds will run for one week each

updates may be slow as I work fulltime but I will try to run each character poll, starting on saturday, for 1 week, and post a new one the day after it finishes

Propaganda: tag me or reblog with your propaganda to ensure I see it. I will reblog propaganda replies if I see them

I may be an atheist but it is the official stance of this blog that God is a woman and uses she/her pronouns

[addamvelaryon]

Thinking more about Jace & Daeron…. They were supposed to be different from the rest of their family…yet they ended up following their family’s example anyways.

From the moment of their birth, efforts were made to foster a positive relationship between the two boys. All so they could grow to be as close as brothers. In their lessons, at the training yard, at feasts and tourneys, they would always have to be together, by royal command. But it’s not enough, not when the lines have already been drawn between their families. The toxic influence of the Green vs Black factions left no room for love to exist there.

“It all goes back and back,” Tyrion thought, “to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads.”

[whatisthebestanimal]

New tournament!

This is a tournament to find out what the best animal in the animal kingdom is. You can submit anything, breeds included. So you can submit a dog or chihuahua. Mythical or extinct animals are not allowed. The total of animals that will be in this tournament will be 128 (maybe more, depending on the number of submissions) Please follow this tournament to follow the progress, and who knows, maybe your chosen animal will reign supreme! You can submit any amount of submissions, though i ask that you do not send in the same thing twice, as that will hinder the choice of animals. Sending in multiple animals in 1 submission is allowed.

If i tagged you, pls reblog! (Reblog if ur not tagged too)

Tags: @bestsiblingstournament @tournament-winners-tournament @toxic-mothers-tourney @tournamentideatournament @pink-oc-tournament @tournament-winners-tournament @purplegirltournament @puppetshowdown @prideflagcontest @blue-character-brawl @bluehairpronounsbracket @orangecharactersmackdown@tournament-announcer@controversial-blorbo-bracket @who-do-i-know-this-man @video-game-kids-tournament @favoritepokemontournament @blue-hair-and-pronouns-tourney@let-me-date-them-bracket

[bugbrawl]

It's bug time.

Inspired by the inimitable @ultimate-rat-bracket, I raise you another Bastard Animal to fight over: bugs. (For the purpose of this competition, "bugs" will extend beyond the order Hemiptera and will include anything that Seems Like A Bug.)

Some quick ground rules:

All submissions must be, in a physical way, bugs. No cute anime girls with antennae, no humans with "bug energy", just straight-up bugs.

I shouldn't have to say this, but by following this blog, you consent to seeing pictures of bugs on your dashboard. If you don't want to see bugs, don't follow.

If using someone else's art to accompany your submission, make sure you have permission to use it.

Don't be a dick. No spamming submissions, no angry messages if your submission doesn't make it into the bracket, no anti-propaganda, etc.

Both the definition of "bug" and the scope of the contest are being kept deliberately vague. Interpret it however you want!

Submissions closed!

Tournament tags:

@retirement-home-rumble @scrunkly-tournament @toxic-mothers-tourney @patheticmenscuffle @silly4sillypoll @underrated-adversaries @adhdvsautismbracket @the-mouse-joust

[unlikely-adversaries-bracket]

shoutout to the tournaments that are yielding multiple entrants!

@toxic-mothers-tourney @catholic-character-tournament @character-of-all-time @divorced-tournament @insanepoll

[horrorvillaintourney]

Welcome to the Horror Villain Tourney!

Basically I want to throw your favorite horror antagonist into a bracket and watch you guys duke it out over which one is the best

inspired by @toxic-mothers-tourney @poetrysmackdown @handsomestwomantournament @sapient-locations-bracket @fuckingstupidbracket

Rules

you can only submit each character once, but you can submit as many characters as you want.

each character needs 3+ submissions to qualify, but the mod has been known to have a bias.

primary villains ONLY. i don't want to hear how x character is "actually" the villain. sorry, i have been in too many asoiaf fandom debates not to include this as a rule.

on a related note, if your slasher franchise of choice has multiple villains (i.e., scream), i am unlikely to include more than the primary or original villain.

not just slasher horror though. obviously all subgenres are welcome.

your villain of choice does not have to be human. sapient locations, objects, aliens, and supernatural creatures are all welcome.

be kind and have fun. arguing and bickering is fine but i have seen these brackets go very far south, and i'm not afraid to shut this down if they do.

Here's your submission link:

[worstmombracket]

the url is toxic-mothers-tourney, and none of my blorbos got in rip. good luck to everyone, but i'll be taking my chances over here instead

Thank you! From the looks of it, the spirit of these two tournaments are different enough that I don't feel too bad about any overlap- they're more focused on mothers that are specifically psychologically abusive while this poll's focus is just mothers that suck in any way. Check them out, still!