descaliers reblogged
“You came. To be honest, I wasn’t completely sure you would.” / “I’m glad to hear it. I should hate to be predictable.”
descaliers reblogged
let’s do it, let’s fall in love
Source: evengatsby
descaliers reblogged
bluetheon-deactivated20201025
Littlefinger died begging on his knees, having realized the girl he’s been trying to manipulate all this time has seen right through him, cut off before he could even finish a sentence. Just let that sink in.
descaliers reblogged
moon priest
descaliers reblogged
dsxsbx
Athabasca Falls by Meagan Lindsey Bourne
descaliers reblogged
I’ve read all 12 volumes of Cleo’s treatises on body and pleasure.
descaliers reblogged
descaliers reblogged
cho-changmoved-deactivated20200
au where i write something and actually finish it
descaliers reblogged
But you didn’t slaughter every one of the Starks. No, no, that was your mistake. You should have ripped them all out, root and stem. Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe. When people ask you what happened here, tell them the North remembers.
Source: perksofbeingafanboy
descaliers reblogged
Moodboard: Mr. Darcy
“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
descaliers reblogged
“the sirens were the daughters of the river god achelous. they lived on an island where they enchanted passing sailors with their songs. according to some sources, sailors died when their ships crashed on the rocks near the island. others say that sailors stayed on the island and listened to the singing until they died.” (x)
descaliers reblogged
After Eddard Stark’s execution, his children are scattered across Westeros: Robb Stark starts a civil war in his family’s name; Arya, Bran, and Rickon Stark are on the run in the countryside; Sansa Stark is held captive in the Capital, King’s Landing; and his only bastard, Jon, is farthest North in the Night’s Watch.
Source: nogansey
descaliers reblogged
We’re soldiers, we have to know what we’re fighting for. I’m not fighting so some man or woman I barely know can sit on a throne made of swords. So what are you fighting for? Life. Death is the enemy. The first enemy and the last. The enemy always wins, and we still need to fight him. That’s all I know. You and I won’t find much joy while we’re here, but we can keep others alive, we can defend those who can’t defend themselves. Maybe we don’t need to understand any more than that. Maybe that’s enough. ★ b e y o n d t h e w a l l