Up Like A Salmon

What makes this hard despite how shitty this show is is knowing that Dany is killed by one of the few people she thinks she can still trust and the few people she loves. The girl who was never given pure simple love, killed by her lover. The girl who was preyed upon and raped and mistreated, killed by her lover. She died in the arms of her lover, killed by her lover.

Every single woman who is alive is alone in every sense of the word. Wild. 

Honestly tho… honestly… no. D&D do not get to turn Tormund into a cinnamon roll, feminist, bromantic life partner with Jon Snow and in the same breath turn Dany into a through-and-through monster. Tormund, who led raids of Northern villages where each man, woman and child were brutally slaughtered “to send a message to the Night’s Watch.” Nah. They don’t get to make Tormund into Jon’s brofriend while simultaneously forcing the narrative in one single episode toward Jon needing to kill Dany for her crimes. They do not get to offer every (white) man in this show an opportunity at redemption - some of the most vile men actually attaining that redemption and being called “heroes” now - while Dany is painted as so villainous her entire existence has been tainted and only her death can save the world from her spontaneous, out-of-character, “madness.”

“ Tormund, who led raids of Northern villages where each man, woman and child were brutally slaughtered “to send a message to the Night’s Watch.” “

Jon knows how it feels to be stabbed. How much it hurts. Jon knows how it feels to be betrayed and murdered by people you trust. He knows the emptiness and darkness of death.

Also, okay.

so let me get this straight

“What, what, what, WHAT!?” the actress recalls thinking. “Because it comes out of fucking nowhere. I’m flabbergasted. Absolutely never saw that coming. I cried,” Clarke says. “And I went for a walk. I walked out of the house and took my keys and phone and walked back with blisters on my feet. I didn’t come back for five hours. I’m like, ‘How am I going to do this??’

The north wanting independence when the rightful heir to Winterfell is now King makes no sense. They’d have been ruled by a son of Ned Stark, which is EXACTLY WHAT THEY ALWAYS WANTED.

GRRM: The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.

“In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree. There she knelt. Red leaves rustled. Red eyes peered inside her. The eyes of the gods. “Tell me what to do, you gods,” she prayed. For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb. And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf. Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice. “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said. “But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.” “You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you.” “The wolf blood.” Arya remembered now. “I’ll be as strong as Robb. I said I would.” She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee. It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside. I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth. That night she lay in her narrow bed upon the scratchy straw, listening to the voices of the living and the dead whisper and argue as she waited for the moon to rise. They were the only voices she trusted anymore. She could hear the sound of her own breath, and the wolves as well, a great pack of them now. They are closer than the one I heard in the godswood, she thought. They are calling to me.”