the north remembers..




Archetypes: | MACHIAVELLI’S PRINCE
He is beloved and he is feared, and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. There is a massacre ready behind his eyes and war written on his body. He is above honour but not deceit, for though he fears no evil and will bow to no god, all others must or suffer his wrath. He hunts for glory like lesser men hunt for freedom. Maps of his lands roll out beneath his fingertips, and with his eyes closed he can trace every line of the blood, love and dread upon which he builds his empire. He knows his land and his people as a sailor knows the tide. Fate’s fickle fingers cannot drag him to the shadows, for his will is the stronger. He is to become the architect of a new world, written in among the dire myths of those gone before. Oblivion is his only fear.
He is Alexander, he is Caesar; he is war, he is conqueror.
gyzym: stiles will NEVER trust derek until scott does
nat: true true true
nat: but it still hurts me
gyzym: like i love stiles, but stiles has TWO PEOPLE
gyzym: HE REALLY TRUSTS
gyzym: AND ONE OF THEM IS HIS DAD, WHO HE DOESN’T REALLY TRUST
gyzym: SO IT’S REALLY
gyzym: JUST
gyzym: SCOTT
gyzym: thus, so long as scott doesn’t trust derek, stiles won’t either
gyzym: because that relationship is too important to him
Scared the crap out of me when we shot it, scared me when I watched it, scary, scary man. And then the next morning we had breakfast. There’s something very liberating about having breakfast with Lucifer after he kills you. Not that it makes it okay but it certainly softens the blow. - Richard Speight Jr. [X]
ASoIaF Challenge | 25. favorite plot twist | [2/2]
Petyr arched an eyebrow. “When Robert dies. Our poor brave Sweetrobin is such a sickly boy, it is only a matter of time. When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn’s bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon… and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden’s cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back… why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright. So those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa… Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell. That’s worth another kiss now, don’t you think?”