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kate, 16,
new zealand
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asoiaf/got, nonfandom
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w a t c h i n g

elementary s2

r e - r e a d i n g

a game of thrones

Angel!Ruby & Demon!Anna
❝ I want to hijack world history with you.
I want to kill monarchs
and infiltrate theocracies
and assault state capitols
and set the captives free.
I want to be the prophet enacting your high-strategy will,
The favored, faithful first general of your imperial army.
The sage philosopher turning hearts towards you,
towards us.
Oh darling, let’s be kings, I’m a killer in a crown.
Let’s build monuments so great God takes notice of us,
lets hide from His sight in a tangle of silken bedsheets
and toast to our infamy with goblets beaten from stolen gold.
Let our names be feared and revered and let us taste eternity
unwary of the cost.
They say this is love but I know it’s self-immolation,
the ignition of electricity between us.
So let us adorn ourselves with smoke and flame
drip blood rubies and pile up devotees like toy soilders,
let us dance, darling, on the ash and sing
‘our kingdom come, our will be done,
in thee as it is in me.’ ❞
— Kingdom Come by S.T. Gibson  (via charliebronsons)

That fight was over almost as soon as it began. Brandon was a man grown, and he drove Littlefinger all the way across the bailey and down the water stair, raining steel on him with every step, until the boy was staggering and bleeding from a dozen wounds. “Yield!” he called, more than once, but Petyr would only shake his head and fight on, grimly. When the river was lapping at their ankles, Brandon finally ended it, with a brutal backhand cut that bit through Petyr’s rings and leather into the soft flesh below the ribs, so deep that Catelyn was certain that the wound was mortal. He looked at her as he fell and murmured “Cat” as the bright blood came flowing out between his mailed fingers. She thought she had forgotten that.

Eliza Taylor as Rhaenys Targaryen - daughter of Aerion Targaryen and Valaena Velaryon

songsofwolves:

Her hair was a mane of jet-black ringlets that fell to the small of her back, and around her brow was a band of copper suns. Where the Sand Snakes were tall, Arianne took after her mother, who stood but five foot two. She is still a little thing, the captain thought. Yet beneath her jewelled girdle and loose layers of flowing purple silk and yellow samite she had a woman’s body, lush and roundly curved.

*happy birthday m

❝ Is that how we lived then? But we lived as usual. Everyone does, most of the time. Whatever is going on is as usual. We lived, as usual, by ignoring. Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance, you have to work at it. Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you’d be boiled to death before you knew it. There were stories in the newspapers, of course, but they were about other women, and the men who did such things were other men. None of them were the men we knew. The newspaper stories were like dreams to us, bad dreams dreamt by others. How awful, we would say, and they were, but they were awful without being believable. They were too melodramatic, they had a dimension that was not the dimension of our lives. We were the people who were not in the papers. We lived in the blank white spaces at the edges of print. It gave us freedom. We lived in the gaps between stories. ❞
— Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale (via ivarstead)

queenrhaenyra:

The Dance of the Dragons meme: 4 quotes: 2/4 (x)

AG