a song of ice and fire series

A Song of Ice and Fire

Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to say that, for destruction, ice is also great and would suffice. — Robert Frost

closed starter | @honxrable

The war was over.

It wasn’t any great feat of the nations, or even a heroic reappearance of the Avatar like she’d once dreamed— it’d been a betrayal, then a treaty. A treaty sealed by a marriage proposal, with herself caught up in the delicate print scrawling the white Fire Nation parchment. 

She’d read it again and again when her father presented it, crumbled the edges between her fingers, memorized her husband-to-be’s perfect penmanship. 

He was a detailed man, a wise man, sometimes a daring man, though never unreasonable— that’s what she learned in his letters, in the straight lines he made across the page. In the occasional smudges, the faint stamp made by the side of his hand smearing wet ink, she gleaned a past wrought with mistakes, regrets, a life he’d rather keep hidden… though, it likely haunted his steps.

She’d told her father she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want this king with his secrets, with his life of fire. How could he sell her to a man they didn’t know beyond words on paper? Beyond the rumors that he’d killed his own father?

He’d told her she hardly had any choice. The Water Tribes had united under him; he was the Head Chieftain, she was his daughter. She’d marry this ruler in the West, carry out the terms of the treaty to save the world from more destruction. 

On the voyage to this land, throughout the ceremony, during the reception and the Lord’s attempts at conversation that followed, she prayed for just that, for the destruction of the Fire Nation. Now… Now that she was here, married and trapped within the gilded walls, she wished they’d crumble down on top of her, melt in the infernal, relentless heat. 

Or was it fear that had her skin damp and clammy? 

“I’ve done this before,” her handmaiden whispered, “for the previous Lady on her wedding night. Be still. Be still and silent and breathe. He will be through quickly.” 

She flinched, because the thought of what came next made her stomach twist. Barely one interaction with the man and she’d be… What? Pinned to his bed? Warned not to fight? The pair paused outside a monstrous door, the golden insignia marking her husband’s room among the many that filled the Royal Family’s suite. 

“You look lovely, my Lady. He’ll be pleased.” Su Li plucked at the shoulder of her thin, pink frock. Then, “Wait in the anteroom. I have put out calming tea for you. His Highness will join you shortly.” 

The doors were pulled open for her, then closed behind her, shrouding her in a cloak of flickering firelight and a masculine red. 

She— Daughter of the Head Chieftain, Master Katara of the Southern Tribe, Fire Lady to Lord Zuko— waited. 

Q & A

I wanna say a huge thank you to the lovely @blurred-feelings and @nobeliuhm for tagging me in this! x  

Rules: answer the 20 questions and tag 20 amazing followers you would like to get to know better.

Name: Alexandra

Nickname: Alex or Sandra (preferably Alex) 

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Height: 5'2″

Orientation: Straight

Favourite fruit: Cherries and Pomegranate Seeds 

Favourite season: Fall!

Favourite book series: A Song of Ice and Fire

Favourite flower: Rose

Favourite colour: Maroon

Favourite animals: Puppies

Coffee/tea/cocoa: Iced coffee!

Average sleep hours: 5-6 hours

Cat or dog person: Both, but I loved dogs first

Favourite fictional characters: Jon Snow and Arya Stark from Game of Thrones

Blog created: I had the same url like 4 years ago when I discovered tumblr, but I deleted my blog and started over in June 2017

Number of followers: 162 & growing! 

I tag (my apologies if you’ve already been tagged): @silverandbluerain @allises @lookingfortheprinceofmydreams @sandralidell @tranquiliz3r @severe-chaos @sick-as-frick-spooky-jim @emunderthesun @solidaarity @crystalgardens @anticipation @purified-teen @serenityofourminds @xhighadri @glowingonthedark @remedys @lotusbambi

I’m in middle of reading the 3rd book in the A Song of Ice And Fire series and so far there have been two times this word was in the book.

And I’m really grossed out by and the word is n***ardly like why is this word being used. And yes I am not writing out the whole word because it is way so close to the anti-black slur for me to feel okay with writing.

Now I don’t if it is related to that word, I just know it is making me really uncomfortable.

I mean George R.R Martin has quite a bit of racism in his books like racism and not in the showing racism and the narrative is making it clear it is bad.

But rather a lot of use of black and brown people are more barbaric and white savior tropes.

Like the country where the white people live they have outlawed and banned slavery, but the in cities that are ruled by the brown and black people slavery is common and slaves are treated in cruel and harsh ways.

The racism in the books is clearly coming from the author rather then the method of the narrative showing that racism is bad and dangerous.

So that also adds to my discomfort with that word.

I can only speak for myself and i just think that word shouldn’t be used, period.

There’s a saddening lack of books with pansexual/panromantic rep included in queer book recs, so I’ve compiled a list of books for us pans, that I will be continuously updating.

Some notes: I haven’t read the majority of these books, so I’m trusting the people who sent me recs and the research I’ve done. Some of the books are part of series, and I’m not sure if the pan character is in one or some/all books, so keep that in mind.

For each book I’ve put the genre, the names of the characters if I could find them, if it’s canon or implied/hinted, and a goodreads link.

Happy reading!

Book Reviews by my Dad

For Father’s Day, I asked my dad to write some reviews for books we’ve both read and he came through so beautifully everyone needs to read these


The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien:

Epic. It is not cool not to like The Lord of the Rings.


A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin:

As epic as The Lord of the Rings. It is not cool not to like Game of Thrones.


The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling: 

My daughters grew up with Harry, Ron and Hermione…

…But, of all the other characters in the book, Arthur Weasley is the man…and, definitely, the Dad.

What was Harry thinking that he didn’t name any of his kids after him?


The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer:

Creative! … and fun. Cinderella’s cinder is grease and Rapunzel’s tower is a satellite. Makes perfect sense.


The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater:

What is there not to love about the Raven Boys and the idea of ley lines being a bridge between spiritualism and magic and science? Also, I like the way things are described in there:

“The voice was careful, masculine and local; the vowels had all the edges sanded off…..”

“…there was something pregnant about the night…”

Maggie Stiefvater is the fairest of them all.


The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer:

While I was reading it, it seemed ok.

It is like cheap whisky… you wake up promising to never do that again.

3

game of thrones biossansa stark

sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. she loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than i ever was, you can see that. i often sent away her maid so i could brush her hair myself. she had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft… the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.

anonymous asked:

I'm happy that I haven't seen posts like yours (about liking "problematic" stuff in fandom) when I was younger, because I'd probably keep reading gross stuff like it's just a fic. Do you really think young people reading, for example, pedophilia ffs aren't influenced and won't project anything to real life or you just lie to yourself to feel better about readng about gross things yourself? Yeah let's let 14 years old read romantic stories about teens and teachers, it's okay ...but anyways :)

Oh, nonnie, you’re barking up the wrong tree here. 

First of all, most fanfiction comes with an appropriate age rating, and if there are fourteen year olds visiting a fanfiction archive like AO3 - which, by the way, comes with a general disclaimer in the TOS that informs reader that they are likely to encounter upsetting, offensive, or morally questionable content - or if there are fourteen year olds on tumblr, which is an unmoderated, semi-private blogging platform - it’s not my responsibility to “keep them safe” from anything that isn’t age-appropriate.

Second, I’m really very sorry that you didn’t read my post earlier, so it would have given you a bit of perspective, and made you realize that it’s perfectly okay to read all kinds of fucked-up fiction, as long as you are mature enough and capable of discerning between fiction and reality. And usually, even fourteen year olds are old enough to make that distinction. Or if they aren’t, it’s their parents’ responsibility to make sure they don’t encounter content that isn’t suited for them.

But seriously, nonnie, do you have any idea what kind of stuff I read when I was fourteen years old? Stuff that I could get in every book shop, unsupervised, uncensored, and without content warnings attached to it? Do you realize that published books come without any kind of age restriction? I’m inclined to laugh at you. I was a fourteen year old myself, and back then, no one even tried to put restrictions on me and my reading preferences. Goodness, our house was full of books of every genre and flavor, and no one bothered to even look at what kind of stuff I pulled from the shelf.

But, hey, if you want to start banning fiction, how about you start with the things that have a much bigger audience than niche fanfiction which is posted in fannish spaces like tumblr or at the AO3 (which, by the way, was made with the explicit purpose of hosting all kinds of fanfiction, especially the stuff that was banned elesewhere)? 

If you are really so concerned about the influence that fiction has on younger people, I’d start here. That’s a literary classic romanticizing rape and incest among other disgusting things. Also this one, it’s full of violence, propagates rape culture and really toxic masculinity! 

And let’s not even talk about contemporary novels! From Nabokov’s Lolita to Irving’s The Hotel New Hampshire, George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire to Effinger’s Marîd Audran series, published fiction is full of problematic stuff, and it’s all easily available for young people!! Shouldn’t you make it your quest to go out there and prevent that from happening? 

But not, instead you’re in my askbox, wasting your time. 

[…] or you just lie to yourself to feel better about readng about gross things yourself?

Oh, nonnie, I’m sorry, but this is pitiful. You’re talking to an adult, a sane, mentally stable and self-assured person, and your moral condemnation is pretty much meaningless to me. I’m not in any danger of conflating fiction and reality, and my conscience is perfectly clear when it comes to my support of fannish creativity and freedom of expression. :)

The Heirs of Winterfell 

This started as a series of quick sketches while listening to an audiobook late one night. I’ve been trying to establish a cohesive look for each of the Seven Kingdoms and have been having a difficult time coming up with things that I like. This was me toying around with some viking inspired looks. 

6

literature meme: 6/10 series or books

What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms… or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

A Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. R. Martin (1996-)

Jaime pulled his bleeding sword free as the body of Aerys Targaryen fell to the floor of the throne room. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and swallowed hard. Elia, was Jaime’s first thought—and then he was running.

Elia Martell had always been kind to Jaime. “A good and gracious woman,” many called her. Though Jaime knew she was more than that, and didn’t deserve the fate she would surely receive if Jaime didn’t reach her in time. He ran from the throne room as fast as his legs would carry him, trying desperately to put dead King Aerys out of his mind. I had no choice, Jaime told himself. Elia will understand. I had no choice.

The gods alone knew if Elia would trust Jaime after he’d just murdered her good-father, but he had to try. And there was little love between Elia and Aerys anyway, Jaime knew. Instead he thought of Elia. Sweet, clever, fragile Elia; the only woman in King’s Landing beautiful enough to tear his thoughts away from Cersei, if only in passing. Though she was ten years his senior, Jaime hardly seemed to notice. Elia had never looked down on Jaime as others did, or treated him as if he were a child. She had always praised him after he’d done well in a tourney, and Jaime often saw her watching him sparring in the training yard with Princess Rhaenys clutching her leg.

With the drawbridge to Maegor’s Holdfast raised, Jaime headed towards the armory, where he would then need to scale the walls in order to reach the Princess and her children before someone else did. Jaime cringed at the realization, but Elia was worth the risk. Though when he arrived at Maegor’s base, Jaime saw two men already scaling its walls perhaps fifty feet above him; men he recognized as Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch.

“Fuck,” Jaime whispered under his breath. I’ll never make it in time. But he had already come this far, he couldn’t give up now. And he certainly couldn’t leave Elia and her children to mercy of Lorch and the Mountain. Jaime looked up at the challenge set before him, took in a deep breath, and began to climb. The going was quicker than he expected it to be, then again this wasn’t the first time Jaime had scaled a wall. He had grown up climbing the walls of Casterly Rock as a child, much to his mother’s dismay. Jaime thanked the gods for his natural swiftness, and for not making him into a huge boulder of a man like Gregor Clegane.

Jaime saw Gregor and Lorch scamper through Maegor’s first available window and quickened his pace as he gritted his teeth from the exertion, sweat beading on his forehead. He reached the same window not long after and hauled himself through, which was no easy task in full plate armor—his snow-white kingsguard armor, now stained with red. As his feet landed on the stone floor, Jaime found himself on a landing between two staircases, one going up and one going down. Fuck, he thought. Which way did they go? The royal apartments seemed the logical destination, so Jaime chose the staircase leading upwards, and ran towards the bedchamber that had been Prince Rhaegar’s.

But when he burst through the oaken doors, there was no one to be found. Where is she? Jaime wondered, panicking.

“Elia!” Jaime shouted. “Elia, are you in here?”

“Ser Lion?” called a small voice. Jaime’s head turned towards the bed, where he saw a head of messy black hair peak out from underneath it, and two small dark violet eyes staring up at him.

Jaime let out a sigh. “Rhaenys,” he said gently. “Where’s your mama, little dragon?”

Rhaenys shook her head as she crawled towards him. Jaime lifted her up off the ground and into his arms. “I don’t know,” she whispered into his neck. “Mama said to hide and took baby brother away.” The nursery, Jaime realized. Fuck.

“Alright, little one, we’re going to see Mama now, and then you, her, baby Aegon and I are going on a journey together,” Jaime told Rhaenys, stroking her hair to soothe her. “You must be very quiet now, Princess, okay?”

“Okay, Ser Lion,” Rhaenys whispered, burying her head into Jaime’s shoulder. He turned and left the bedchamber with Princess Rhaenys in tow, and headed back down the staircase the way he had come.

Jaime had just reached the bottom of the second staircase when he heard the screams.

“No!” Jaime yelled, pulling his sword from its scabbard, still stained with Aerys’ blood. He burst through the nursery door just in time to see Gregor Clegane dash baby Aegon’s head against the stone wall. Jaime’s mouth fell open, stunned.

“Lannister,” Amory Lorch sneered. “I see you’ve brought us the other dragon-spawn. Be a good lad and hand it over.”

And so Jaime Lannister, with a princess in one hand and a sword in the other, moved to position himself between Elia Martell and her assailants. Jaime’s mouth curled into a smile, as if often did when he faced down an opponent, and he straightened his back.

“If you want them, come and claim them,” he said, not breaking his gaze from Amory’s.

Gregor laughed. “You fool,” he growled. “It was your father who bid us slay this lot.”

“Fuck my father,” Jaime said. “You’ve already butchered Rhaegar’s heir. Leave now, or I will show you no mercy.”

This time Amory laughed as he took a step towards Jaime. “You’re way out of your depth, boy,” he said, gripping the hilt of his sword, still in its sheath. Jaime slowly slide his blade towards Amory’s throat and placed it gently against his skin.

His smile widened. “I’ve already killed the king,” said Jaime coolly. “What do you think I would do to scum like you?”

Amory’s eyes widened as Gregor’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“You didn’t,” said Gregor, holding his ground.

“I did,” replied Jaime, without a hint of dishonesty in his voice. “Do you want your friend to live, Clegane?”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed, knowing he’d been had. He stepped forward and grabbed Amory by the shoulder. “Let’s go, Lorch,” he said. “The lion’s not worth it. His father would have us skinned if we harmed his golden son.”

Jaime slid his blade away tentatively, allowing Gregor to jerk Amory away. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Lannister,” Amory called as the pair left the nursery. Jaime sheathed his sword and quickly barred the door. He only now allowed himself to notice the way Rhaenys’ nails were digging into his neck as she choked out muffled sobs. Elia was crazed. She had scampered across the room the moment Jaime shut the door, and was now clutching the body of baby Aegon to her chest, sobbing hysterically.

“Elia,” said Jaime softly, walking towards her. “Elia, we have to leave.”

“My baby… my sweet boy… no, no, no… not my baby,” Elia whimpered, rocking her dead son in her shaking arms. Jaime knelt down beside her and placed his free hand on her shoulder. Elia shrugged it off and began to sob even louder. “No!” she cried. “I won’t leave him!” Jaime felt tears stirring in his eyes, and he blinked them away. He had to remain strong. For her.

“We won’t, Elia. We won’t, I promise. We can bring his body, but we have to go now, before the Mountain tells my father what I’ve done,” Jaime urged her. “Elia, look at your daughter, look at Rhaenys. We have to save her.”

Elia looked up then, and saw her daughter safe in Jaime’s arms. “Rhaenys,” she muttered. “My sweet girl.”

“Yes, Rhaenys,” Jaime echoed. “You still have Rhaenys.”

Jaime grabbed Elia’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face to meet his. He looked into her black eyes, red and raw and full of hot tears that would not stop falling, then rubbed her jaw with the side of his thumb.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her.

Elia blinked, then reached her hand up to touch his. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Then we have to go,” Jaime said. “Now.

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