f: words are wind

francisperfectionbonnefoy  asked:

robb stark and theon greyjoy :D if you please!

wow is this christmas? thanks! i’m going with book versions only!

ROBB *soft crying in the background*

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang [i think he is described as pretty plain in the book, but i imagine him as cute in his own way]
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff [torn between hufflepuff & gryffindor but every test i did for him, i got hufflepuff. i personally think he is braver than he is loyal, so gryffindor it is. but i have a soft spot for hufflepuff!robb because it enlightens his lack of ambition, he is not there for personal glory nor does he seem to take much pride in it.]
best quality: his big, soft heart.
worst quality: his big, soft heart. (he chose to trust theon, and, i mean. put this into context : NO ONE would have trusted theon). also, robb is really impulsive, which is… well, we know what happened.
ship them with: theon, sadly.
brotp them with: theon, sadly. (also, his siblings, especially sansa and bran). 
needs to stay away from: theon, sadly NO, really I don’t believe so. This shouldn’t have ended this way. The obvious answer is Roose.
misc. thoughts: Honestly, just thinking about this loving, reckless, amazing boy forced to go to war… Imagine him. Always worried, second-guessing every move he makes, intimidated by his father’s shadow…Relying on Theon and doubting himself for it (what would Eddard say?), having this much love and respect for his mother (he won’t let anyone insult his lady Mother). How could someone like that survive a war? And yet, he won every battle they threw at him, and was not afraid to shed blood to protect, to serve. And the contrast ! with the fear in his enemies’ eyes! how intensely they feared him. so much so that they mutilated the boy, saying he was a monster. I love him SO MUCH HELP

THEON 

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life (the best character ever written, i mean seriously, you are in for a rollercoaster of complex emotions)
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang [i mean. canon.]
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff [………theon is such a versatile character that it’s hard to choose. nevertheless, his core quality is adaptability, with ambition and pride, so…]
best quality: his determination to succeed/to be someone. yes, it’s also one of the reasons of his downfall in acok, but without it, he probably wouldn’t have survived ramsay. Also, well, I love love his snark. (the lips line about ramsay!!!!! come on!!!)
worst quality: his capacity to delude himself - (the people of winterfell will love me eventually ; the iron islands will accept me one day ; ramsay only hurts me when i do something wrong, etc etc etc) it’s a defense mechanism, but a terrible one, that leads him to such conclusions as ‘i better act cruel because being weak will break the illusion’
ship them with: robb is the only ‘serious’ ship, but i also like theon and kyra as a casual/friends with benefits relationship
brotp them with: robb, sansa and/or bran in future books (please???!) and of course, asha
needs to stay away from: roose, his father, ramsay

misc. thoughts: i could talk for hours about theon. he is one of the most fascinating characters i have ever read about. he delivers some of the best lines in asoiaf (”there are no heroes”, “there are ghosts in winterfell and i am one of them”, “where was i? i should have been with him, I should have died with him”, “hard places breed hard men and hard men rule the world”, “boys believe nothing can hurt them, grown men know better”, etc). he is the symbol of many core themes in the book - identity quests, redemption, war and its effects on humans, magic…just ask me anything about him and i will be grateful.

BECOMING MYTH 

it’s cliche for a story to start with

violation – the demolition of an

innocence, a dissonance with justice,

but sometimes beginning with a cliche is a must.



sometimes girl is crushed, dirty

handed, hair mussed, a heart topped

full of fear and mistrust, sometimes

girl was never girl in the first place.

so here is my advice – soul to soul,

the world may bowl you over, but

that doesn’t mean you have to let it win,

no one can stop you from crafting new skin.



become a myth; caeneus emerged from his

unbowed, unbroken, unsubmerged in agony,

the shame of his cliche washed away with the sea

girl made man, a whole new harmony.

through a cacophony of violence, visceral

and vile – caeneus found his own autonomy,

his freedom was fierce, fast-tracked by the gods,

his skin forged from iron and ichor, impenetrable.

become a myth, and so shall yours be.

one of the things i love most about asoiaf is that you can talk about spoilers around people who haven’t read the books and it’s okay because they’re so ridiculous that no one will take you seriously

  • “he’s slowly turning into an evil tree”
  • “she’s infiltrating the castle dressed as a nun”
  • “he died, but it’s okay because his soul lives on in his dog”
  • “she was pushed off a mountain by an accountant”
  • “he’s really bummed because his friend switched his girlfriend’s baby with a different baby and she’s sad about it”
  • “he spends three chapters slowly burning to death”
  • “she destroys the wizard palace by stabbing it”
  • “at first he’s mad at his girlfriend for using his sperm to murder his brother without his consent but now he’s decided that’s a useful power”
  • “she helps murder the king by wearing poison in her hair to a feast”
  • “he died trying to play a magic trumpet”
Before the storm - Greyjoy siblings last moments of freedom

THEON in Clash

The Bastard’s backhand caught him square, and his cheekbone shattered with a sickening crunch beneath the lobstered steel. The world vanished in a red roar of pain. Sometime later, Theon found himself on the ground. He rolled onto his stomach and swallowed a mouthful of blood. Close the gates! he tried to shout, but it was too late. The Dreadfort men had cut down Red Rolfe and Kenned, and more were pouring through, a river of mail and sharp swords. There was a ringing in his ears, and horror all around him. Black Lorren had his sword out, but there were already four of them pressing in on him. He saw Ulf go down with a crossbow bolt through the belly as he ran for the Great Hall. Maester Luwin was trying to reach him when a knight on a warhorse planted a spear between his shoulders, then swung back to ride over him. Another man whipped a torch round and round his head and then lofted it toward the thatched roof of the stables. “Save me the Freys,” the Bastard was shouting as the flames roared upward, “and burn the rest. Burn it, burn it all.” The last thing Theon Greyjoy saw was Smiler, kicking free of the burning stables with his mane ablaze, screaming, rearing…

ASHA in Dance

Asha wanted to shout back at him, but her throat was so dry she could do no more than grunt. His axe was shivering her shield, cracking the wood on the downswing, tearing off long pale splinters when he wrenched it back. Soon she would have only a tangle of kindling on her arm. She backed away and shook free of the ruined shield, then backed away some more and danced left and right and left again to avoid the downrushing axe. And then her back came up hard against a tree, and she could dance no more. The wolf raised the axe above his head to split her head in two. Asha tried to slip to her right, but her feet were tangled in some roots, trapping her. She twisted, lost her footing, and the axehead crunched against her temple with a scream of steel on steel. The world went red and black and red again. Pain crackled up her leg like lightning, and far away she heard her northman say, “You bloody cunt,” as he lifted up his axe for the blow that would finish her. A trumpet blew. That’s wrong, she thought. There are no trumpets in the Drowned God’s watery halls. Below the waves the merlings hail their lord by blowing into seashells. She dreamt of red hearts burning, and a black stag in a golden wood with flame streaming from his antlers.