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vy 21 | italian + english + french
"I read, I go to the movies, listen to music — I am just the same as everyone else, only I am always looking for inspiration, looking to create. I am always searching, always on a quest for a beauty, for ideas and a muse to seduce me."
- John Galliano

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Posts tagged "Cersei Lannister"

theghostofharrenhal:

Tyrion, Cersei and Joffrey’s armor for Blackwater

memattbe:

give lena headey a fucking emmy.

amomentsindulgence:

“Enjoy!”

amomentsindulgence:

“Enjoy!”

amomentsindulgence:

“You will be strong and fierce”

amomentsindulgence:

“You will be strong and fierce”

Tears aren’t a woman’s only weapon.

(via thewesterlands)

bywaters:

“I will remember, Your Grace. If I am ever a queen, I’ll make them love me.

(via amatesura)

I will hurt you.

Queen you shall be … until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.”

(via serasvictoria)

‘Permit me to share some womanly wisdom with you on this very special day.’

(via fuckyeahgameofthrones)


patience, little brotherspatience, little sisters 

patience, little brothers
patience, little sisters 

(via fuckyeahgameofthrones)

plantagenet:

jonquille’s thirty day asoiaf challenge | day eight : most exciting pov
T Y R I O N  -  C H A P T E R  7 0 :  A  S T O R M  O F  S W O R D S
Prince Oberyn tilted his dinted metal shield. A shaft of sunlight blazed blindingly off polished gold and copper, into the narrow slit of his foe’s helm. Clegane lifted his own shield against the glare. Prince Oberyn’s spear flashed like lightning and found the gap in the heavy plate, the joint under the arm. The point punched through mail and boiled leather. Gregor gave a choked grunt as the Domishman twisted his spear and yanked it free. “Elia. Say it! Elia of Dorne!” He was circling spear poised for another thrust. “Say it!”
Tyrion had his own prayer. Fall down and die, was how it went. Damn you, fall down and die! 

plantagenet:

jonquille’s thirty day asoiaf challenge | day eight : most exciting pov

T Y R I O N  -  C H A P T E R  7 0 :  A  S T O R M  O F  S W O R D S

Prince Oberyn tilted his dinted metal shield. A shaft of sunlight blazed blindingly off polished gold and copper, into the narrow slit of his foe’s helm. Clegane lifted his own shield against the glare. Prince Oberyn’s spear flashed like lightning and found the gap in the heavy plate, the joint under the arm. The point punched through mail and boiled leather. Gregor gave a choked grunt as the Domishman twisted his spear and yanked it free. “Elia. Say it! Elia of Dorne!” He was circling spear poised for another thrust. “Say it!”

Tyrion had his own prayer. Fall down and die, was how it went. Damn you, fall down and die! 

(via fearisforthewinter)


‘When we were little, Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell us apart. Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other’s clothes and spend a whole day each as the other. Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. ‘What do I get?’ I remember asking. We were so much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently. Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly. Jaime’s lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood.’

‘When we were little, Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell us apart. Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other’s clothes and spend a whole day each as the other. Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. ‘What do I get?’ I remember asking. We were so much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently. Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly. Jaime’s lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood.’

(via crowned--stag)

What is Dead May Never Die