i like books, food, and long walks through hyrule. i get obsessive over people/things and actually followed my best friend nikki all the way to OU. sometimes i cry because daenerys targaryen.
this is not a spoiler-free blog (asoiaf).
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And all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.
let’s talk about emilia clarke turning that targaryen death-glare up to maximum power while sitting in a bath with her tits out though
that’s the kind of level of scary bitch i aspire to
no but can we just talk about the fact that someone can sit there and say crude shit to Daenerys and it’s nbd, but it’s the manhandling of someone within her circle and under her protection that clearly sets her teeth on edge and puts the murder look in her eye?
She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Durr had fallen silent. The godswife had thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn. (x)
kill the girl, and let the woman be born.
Cunningness, determination, traditionalism.
→ Some are born great