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21. Writer. Bibliophile. Student. NorCal. Caffeine addict. Procrastinator.

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"On the third day of each new moon I must be free to do as I wish, and you must swear an oath on the body of the Boar whose flesh gave you sworn warriors that you will not attempt to see me or come near me on that day. Fear not, I will not leave the Castle nor try to escape you. This is my condition, and it cannot be altered.” — The Orphan’s Tales: In The Night Garden, Catherynne M. Valente

"There are only two positions one can take toward anything in life: hope or fear. Hope strengthens, fear kills." -Bloodfever, Karen Marie Moning

"I need coffee in an IV." -Lorelai Gilmore, GG

lamamama:

#where’s sansa i have more horrifying things to tell her

hotelsongs:

Taking her own life would be the ultimate act of control in the ultimate heat of chaos on Cersei’s part—hers and Tommen’s. The episode begins with all of her children out of her reach, Myrcella in Dorne and Joffrey off to the battlefield, both next to death, as far as she’s concerned. She fears because she’s their mother, the loss of Myrcella cuts deep because she’s a girl sold as chattel and the loss of Joffrey threatens like the loss of power, but every threat to her children is also a direct threat to her.

An enemy army is battering down the walls, and she is told (as she cannot see for herself) that the war is lost. And she takes her last child, goes to the Iron Throne, and sits, with her little king on her lap, ready to kill the pair of them. This is an act of mercy, but it’s also aclaim. This is Cersei telling a story where they win, when she’s been told all her life that she has no control over the shape of her life, told by the prophecy that her children would die no matter how hard she tried to save them and her life would be taken from her no matter what measures of self-preservation she took. If this is the end of the line—the lineshe made, her children with her brother, like little pieces of herself, little claims on power and little pieces of her destiny—she is going to take it as her own: Cersei doesn’t pray, and her father raised her to fight the gods. She doesn’t flinch. This is the only possible victory in an unwinnable war, and it’s hers, and it’s her way of making the war hers, and she takes it on the Iron Throne, wearing armor.

(But the war is over; she drops the vial; she never needed to fight at all.)