#as in I could kill macbeth

[vigilskeep]

um calenhad aeducan lore. known fondly as prince cal by the people of orzammar and also me. he’s called that after the founder of the theirin line, because after ferelden successfully rebelled against orlesian rule, orzammar was like oh fuck we’ve got to repair that relationship as if we didn’t just sit by the whole time that was happening. so there were a bunch of these kind of uh diplomatic publicity stunts happening around the time he was born. and nothing about his life has ever not been someone else’s angle

his mother was one of endrin’s lesser concubines from a lower status house, and every jealous eye turned in her direction when she bore the king a son. despite that, endrin’s queen took her and the baby under her wing. it wasn’t entirely altruistic. the queen had no sons of her own, so cal could serve instead as her “contender” for heir against trian, the son of her long-time rival, a favoured concubine called lady rosdrada. the queen also happened to be a notable warrior, a powerful reaver, who died years later on a deep roads expedition under mildly suspicious circumstances, with many blaming lady rosdrada. (she was never publicly accused but neither did the king ever marry her and allow her to rise to the queen’s vacant place, a fact bitterly resented by her faction.)

cal’s mother, who returned the queen’s protection and favour with fierce loyalty, was first among rosdrada’s accusers. furious that punishment never came, she changed almost overnight from a shy, humble woman to a politician who could in her own right engage in the life or death battle for succession, raising her son to be the fulfilment of the late queen’s ambitions. he was trained since childhood in both the ways of princely charm and the ways of a reaver warrior, all to be the vengeance of a woman whose face he sometimes struggles to remember. perhaps there was a time, as boys, when he tried to be a brother to trian despite it all, but with his mother’s teachings always in his ears and trian less bearable each year, he’s long since accepted that deadly conflict between them is inevitable. he’s never eager to be the ruthless aeducan prince, but he’s always done his duty, however ugly. he never turns down the foul-tasting reaver concoctions, or quakes when he’s sent to the deep roads. he always defends his house’s honour and makes the point in blood. anything less is death; his mother tells him so

he doesn’t truly want the throne. he just wants more than anything to have the weight of expectations off his shoulders, and to no longer dread that his mother, his second, and all who support them will pay the deadly price of his failure. he’ll jump blindly at the chance to get this fight over with—and that’s all the opportunity bhelen ever needed

[warningsine]

He's too nice. He's too normal for you. You know that.

[lil-gae-disaster]

what a wonderful day to be a c-section baby

Now let's kill Macbeth

[devilsskettle]

thinking about the way that lady macbeth convinces macbeth to kill duncan and yeah she talks about power and cowardice and what he owes to himself and to her, but at the heart of the whole thing is how their child died and she has nothing else to pin her hopes for the future on. unfortunately the fact that they no longer have an heir is also the driving force behind macbeth’s violent paranoia toward banquo which ultimately dooms them

[aachria]

BIRTH!

(okay but seriously, happy birthday hun)

I mean more like HAPPY REMOVAL DAY TUMOUR BABY! but I'll take it

Thank you!!!

[withoutcontxt]

I’m reading Macbeth (because I can) and the thing I love most is how Lady Macbeth telling her husband to kill the king basically went:

Macbeth: I can’t kill the king, it’s wrong and he’s family!

Lady Macbeth: Pussy.

Macbeth: Bet, I’ll do it.

[boydykedevo]

Zoox could kill Macbeth

[scattered-winter]

it's crazy how typically students hate the books they had to read in english class in high school because some of the books i read have ended up becoming favorites of mine

[warriorcatnamedbugbear]

pinestar au comic where he goes through with killing tigerkit and recites that Lady Macbeth monologue

[goblin-orgy]

no one ever tells you that in college you are going to meet at least one guy who you cannot fathom having a family. i’m not saying he’s particularly mean or anything, but there is no way this man didn’t just materialize one day and decide to become the most peculiar guy.

[yepthisiskay]

I could take Macbeth in a fight and win

[camelliagwerm]

Okay so, that last post I reblogged actually got me thinking regarding Camellia. She mentions in her act 5 quest that Horgus expects camellias to be in bloom all year round, and it is among the camellias that you can find her mother Iris' grave.

I found it a little odd at first that the camellias in bloom were red rather than the white I'd usually associate with the flower (partially because of Chanel's long-standing association), but I think it's deliberate. Red camellias are often tied to passionate, romantic love, but also deep desires. In this case, these deep desires could be Camellia's desire for her freedom, her desire to kill, her desire to no longer hide, her desire for acceptance, understanding, a connection with someone and her desire for the Commander if she is romanced. Checks out to me.

Also, those little blue flowers on the grave itself? I wouldn't be surprised if they're meant to be irises - Camellia's mother's namesake.

[i-hate-accidents]

I feel like Benedict would be so frazzled when his love is in labor. He would insist on being in the room with his wife

the author took immense liberties with this idea. she hopes you enjoy it nevertheless and offers her thanks for sharing it with them~

the author would also like to name that, whilst a she/her femme, the sort of reader who the author wrote with in mind would likely not resonate with being called 'wife.' she would likely prefer 'partner' or a more gender inclusive term. <3

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

i hate accidents: a drabble

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary:  the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections:  I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n:  bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings:  pregnancy (no birthing/labor)

word count:  891

tagged: @mikariell95 @omgsuperstarg @flyestvenustrap @nowheredreamer @jimblejamblewritings

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“you are thinking of something.”

you smile; your husband knows you too well.  you continue to rub at your protruding stomach. 

“our child can kill a scottish king,” you respond.

benedict laughs through his nose, his ocean eyes crinkling in the adorable way that they always do whenever he is truly delighted. 

“if you hadn’t said 'scottish,' i might have needed to turn you in for treason.  why do you say that, love?”

you struggle out of your lounge, swatting at your kindly husband’s offer to assist you, and waddle over to your shelves of books.  you drag your forefinger across the spines until you emit an ‘aha!’ and pull the book.  flipping towards the end, you find the pressed wisteria you used to mark the verse and read,

“‘for none of woman born shall harm macbeth,’” you look up from the words to benedict as you beam with pride.  “see?  the premiere attribute for assassinating a fictitious monarch, and here our child has it because of me.”

your husband returns your beam as he approaches you and leans in to plant a soft kiss on your temple.  shifting himself to be behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his hands on the low of your stomach.  you lean into the comfort of his embrace.

“and how shall we support our child with their nefarious intentions?” benedict inquires.

you hum.

“both their parents are quite proficient in fencing.  perhaps it is a trait that they shall inherit?”

“that seems certain.  their parents are also quite good at sneaking about; that ought to be of use to them for their plot.”

you snort.

“i think you are too generous, love.  there is a certain eldest brother who has vehemently disproved time and time again that we are, in fact, quite terrible at sneaking about.”

benedict nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, causing you to giggle.  you can feel his smile against your quickened pulse.  it is silly; how he is your husband— how he is the father of your child to-be!  and yet, he still makes you feel this way.  he still makes these damned butterflies flutter within you.

“more incentive to keep practicing, no?”  you feel benedict’s smile broaden into a grin.  “for our child, of course.”

stupid benedict.

you shake your head with all the affection in your heart.

“for our child.”

a small silence falls amongst you.  you should allow yourself this comfort.  you should allow yourself this peace.  but—

“do you think i can do it?” 

you had meant to say it as plainly as you could, but the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes choked your words into a whisper.  benedict releases himself from the embrace, one hand still on your stomach, as he shifts to face you.

“do what, my love?”

the crack in the softness of his voice and the gentle circles you feel on your stomach from his touch make you close your eyes.

“birth our child.  raise them.  what if it is too much?  what if i hurt them?  what if i—” you flutter your eyes open to the tear-blurry sight of disquiet in ocean eyes, “what if i am not the parent they deserve?”

he says your name, and that is enough to allow your tears to fall.  you start to look down, feeling the weight of your shame settle within you, but benedict does not let you.  he gently cups your face, lifts it, and kisses wherever tears roll down your cheeks.  benedict murmurs ‘i love you’ with each kiss until he whispers,

“i am fearful too.”

you pull your face away from his and see how his throat bobs, as it always does right before he wishes to say something more firmly.

“i am fearful that i will fail them.  i am fearful that i will not be even an inkling of a father to our child as my father was to me,” benedict heaves a sigh, and you see how he wills himself not to let his tears fall.  “but,” his throat bobs again, “then i remind myself that our child has you, y/n.”

you place a hand on his cheek and softly rub your thumb against his skin.

“you can cry too, benedict,” you manage.

he huffs out a laugh as he allows a tear to fall.  you gently press your lips against his cheek to capture it.

“yes, but i am not the one carrying our child.”

you look down at your stomach and then up at your husband.  you offer a small smile.

“i suppose it is your fault that i am in such a state.”

that makes benedict laugh fully. 

stupid butterflies. 

he tries to look down and away, suddenly shy by the very silly observation you have made, but you do not let him.  you shift your head and capture him with a kiss between his chin and his cheek, gently pushing his face up and murmuring ‘i love you’ into his skin.

perhaps your and benedict’s fear shall never go away.  perhaps you two shall never be the perfect parents you wish to be for your child.  but your child was created out of real, true love.  a love that protects, that laughs, that nurtures, that comforts, that heals.  and perhaps, that is enough.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

[cantheykillmacbeth]

Could I kill Macbeth?

Thank you for your submission.

[oleworm]

[HOUSE OF THE DRAGON / FIRE AND BLOOD SPOILERS]

[Picture and text by my friend, though I share their vision and wish GRRM hadn't disposed of Aegon II so quickly. So much potential!]

“My soul is too much charged with blood of thine already.”

An AU in which Aegon II adopts Rhaenyra’s son, Aegon III, as his own heir, only that instead of dying, he lives for a while longer, slowly shaping Aegon III in his own image.

This is a nature vs. nurture type of a situation: a son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Aegon III becomes a product of Aegon II and his family in every way but by his birth. I would want their relationship to be strained, deep and vile, a tortured drama in the style of The Lion in Winter. “You love nothing. You are incomplete. The human parts of you are missing. You are dead as you are deadly,” type of a parent-child dynamic, full of rage, misery and longing, with both performing the role of a surrogate for the true loved one that their faction has killed. One becomes the son to his worst nightmare, and the other—a de facto father to the blood of his real son’s killers, to his own blood, too, because ultimately, they do share the same blood, like poison poured from the same cup.

Fun detail, but though the “you love nothing” line comes from Richard in The Lion in Winter, it’s his father Henry II who could serve as a prototype to Aegon III. The son of Matilda (Rhaenyra), he was proclaimed heir by king Stephen (Aegon II) shortly before his death, putting an end to the Anarchy. Stephen, however, did live a fairly long life. In this AU so does Aegon II, purely out of stubbornness and spite.

The quote comes from Macbeth.