[irnbrn]

                          BLUE LIPS                                    A KNEE UNBENT                                                   A CROW’S EYE                                                              OF THE IRON ISLES

                        GOLDEN HAIR                                    A GOLDEN HAND                                                  A LION’S PRIDE                                                               OF CASTERLY ROCK

18+ HIGHLY MATURE & GRAPHIC DUAL MUSE BLOG FOR EURON GREYJOY AND JAIME LANNISTER OF G.R.R. MARTIN’S A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE.

While my depiction will be strictly book based, I have no qualms writing with Game of Thrones based characters as along as all information & biases regarding the show’s Euron are discarded. I am more flexible with Jaime however, and may write a more show based Jaime for those with no knowledge of the book. Let it be known I do not like the show, thus my preference will always be book based. This is your one warning :  I do not overlook the horrors and graphic nature of the book. I do not sugar coat my writings just as G. R. R. Martin does not. This is a mature space for mature writers capable of handling “dead dove” themes. I do not tag nor censor any triggers. RULES BELOW THE CUT.

This originally started as s single muse blog for Euron hence the blog name, tags, and graphics. One day I may convert things to reflect Jaime’s presence.

 As stated previously, no triggers are tagged. I write a wide assortment of graphic themes. I do not have any triggers. If you are capable of reading ASOIAF, you should be capable of writing the mature themes therein. Muse does not equal mun.

I do not police people and what they write.

Although I keep canon to ASOIAF and do not sugar coat any themes, I do age up characters which require such. Characters such as Bran, Arya, Tommen, etc are children and will remain children, however characters such as Daenerys, Theon, Asha will be treated as adults. As comfortable as I am with highly mature themes, I am not comfortable with underage sex scenes or forty year old men lusting over a thirteen year old. Euron is going after Daenerys for her dragons, yes, but he would do nothing with a child. As bad as Euron may be, he will never condone the raping or fetishism of children.

I do not ignore or change the canon of Jaime’s feelings and relationship with Cersei. This relationship is ever evolving, and a love that was once very profound and dominant is waning. I am open to write their relationship and interactions during any point of their lives.  

I am mutuals only. Follow me with the intention to write. I clean my follower list often via soft blocking. 

You may send in as many prompts as you want, but please contact me if you wish to continue an ask response as a thread. My ask responses are vague and may contain very little detail; my threads are quite the opposite. Plotting is highly preferred due to all the dynamics and timeline preferences. Plotting is especially important if crossing over characters, moving canon characters to different time periods, or going very divergent.

I typically match the length of my writing partner’s responses, but generally I write a lot and enjoy writing a lot. Never hold back on account of feeling something is “too long”. Quality AND quantity are provided here.

Crossovers are welcomed and loved.

If you post frequent ooc posts unrelated to writing or mun images, tag such so that I may blacklist it. Frequent clogging of the dash with image reblogs may warrant in soft blocking.

Although Euron has been known to sleep with women and Jaime to sleep with Cersei, I will not write anything sexual with female muses. Euron will be depicted as liking both men and women, however the former will be a secret well kept. I may write smut with male muses if it is pertinent to the thread. Jaime will also be treated as liking both sexes, though his primary interests lie with his sister, to a point. 

[irnbrn]

Part of me wants to re-do my tags, pinned post, some graphics, but who really cares? Certainly some people do care. I am here for the writing however, and it comes few and far between. I'll take my bland appearance and a few excellent mutuals over the rest.

[lizkeen]

🧺* ― 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑲 𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

001, a deserted road with only one house.

002, a circle of standing stones perched atop a desolate hill.

003, an old patio with creaking floorboards and a swing.

004, a small cathedral in the middle of nowhere.

005, an abandoned barn.

006, a slaughter house at the outskirts of town.

007, the woods but all the trees are marked and maybe you are too.

008, a wild and overgrown yard in an otherwise very suburban neighborhood.

009, a gas station in the middle of the night.

010, branch tents in the woods.

011, behind a clothesline in the morning hours.

012, hay bales under a blue sky in the summer.

013, the nearby sea with skeleton floating.

014, the empty grave in a forest.

015, a rusty red metal gate on a meadow.

016, a house situated in a field of overgrown grass.

017, a tree in a wooded area adorned with numerous animal skulls and bones. 

018, an old, rustic barn with tire swings hanging from the rafters

019, a set dining table with floral arrangement positioned near a body of water.

020, a chicken coop that smells of rot.

021, an open field surrounded by scarecrows.

022, a bus stop in the middle of nowhere.

023, a paddock at night.

024, a tractor in front of a corn field.

025, an unguarded barn that is too quiet to be trustworthy.

026, an empty church/cathedral at night.

027, a perched hill with dry, brown earth.

[irnbrn]

[gcldencrownofsorrow]

It sounded foolish, and dumb, because it was, talking of Hetherspoon at all had been a mistake, but backing out of explaining why.. made her come across as dim witted. She knew that, the only reason she was able to bare that fact, was that only Jaime had heard her. She watches him put down the wine, which she had wanted for him to drink. But she doesn't protest the action as she finds herself staring up into his face, the sharp angle of his jaw makes him look as though he is carved of marble. his curls, hangs lush and loose where hers is still restrained high upon her head, only the occasional stand daring to escape. Her lips part in breathless admiration. Of course Cersei recognizes the anger that roar behind his eyes, the jealousy and possessiveness... She had felt it before.. Melara... Lysa, they would have taken him form her... but she had stopped them..Done what ever it took to keep him for herself... But not Jaime, no Jaime? He would stand back and watch as Robert laid claim to what he claimed was HIS, and instead of aiming that anger at what threatened them, he was angry with HER.

She huffs in protest when she is pressed against him. Anyone who saw them like this, would know, this was no mere game between siblings, this was a lover, seeking the reassurance of another's devotion. "Trapped?" she nearly laughed at the absurdity of that notion, but it serves to distract her form her displeasure and paranoia. Instead she presses herself back towards him, her rear fitting perfectly against his groin, the hand under her skirt, serving to light that fire in her core. "you're a fool Jaime." she tells him, but there is no cruelty in her voice. "Don't you see - i'm Trapped in this world." Her body was her prison, the part she was made to play, being a woman.... that was what had her ensnared, bound and gaged, she held no real power. She turns to face him, refusing to be fucked like an animal in a barnyard... not tonight. if they were to risk this, she wanted to do it properly. her fingers finds the straps that secures his armor, where they begin to tuck and pull needing to SEE HIM. see her reflection in him. "you're my only escape." she whispers, her lips against his jaw once more. bathing him in genuine devotion. "you are the only freedom, i've ever been able to claim."

[irnbrn]

No man , woman , nor creature across all the realms and forsaken lands could claim to know love as Jaime Lannister held for his sister. He would fight for it and would bet his life on it if any such god could measure the strength of love. Cersei was everything , but the golden Lannister lion was that — a lion full of pride and lacking in emotional intelligence ; the weakness of his sex. How could be understand all of Cersei's tribulations? He knew not what life was without cock and balls between his thighs. Of course he wasn't a fool to not see the imbalance between men and women. Men were kings and women married kings ; even the Targaryeans took to the war over the rights of a woman on a throne.

Life was unfair and unbalanced , yet that was life. Paupers died of starvation and scurvy while royalty were born with oysters and wine as ready as the tit. Jaime was happy to be a man. It was the only thing he knew , but he was satisfied not because it brought him power but because it was life. There was no poetics to it. Cersei , however , forever lived with a thorn in her finger ever since she was dressed in skirts and he in trousers. Perhaps she saw the world for what it really was while all Jaime wanted was HER as his world. Together in the wilds , the only sex that would matter was the hungry and loving sex the two would be involved in every single day.

The world was divided between the wealthy and the poor , but it was all a construct of so-called civilization. With Cersei , they could live as people had before the idea of royalty and placing worth on a shinning gold rock. It was right there. She could not let go. Even in Jaime's mind he loathed comparing his sister to anything but herself— perfection ; there was nothing and no one like her. Yet she was like a dog that couldn't attain a bone. She hungered for it to the point of madness. Cersei wanted Jaime to kill the man that was to be her husband , and Jaime wanted to abandon their forced lives as Lannisters. Mad woman. Twins they were and sometimes like the sun and moon they were. Fundamentally . . they were incompatible.

He saw the adoration in her eyes , but it proved not the salve for every distasteful moment. The only difference between a king and a pauper was love , and Jaime Lannister was a fool for loving so deeply that he plunged blind. His shoulders sagged as he very literally gave in and discarded his apprehensions in the name of love. If only Cersei could give in too. A fool. A fool. She felt so perfect in his arms and so sweet on his lips; how could this love be doomed? His hands ceased their salacious actions to touch her with nothing but adoration. Arms wrapped around a tiny waist where hands folded into her lower back to press her impossibly close to his body.

She knew Jaime loved her , yet did she truly know? It hurt him , and it impassioned him. Head ducked to meet hers where their foreheads touched , and Jaime shut his eyes. He wanted this moment to last an eternity. If they couldn't escape to the wilds , he hoped all the walls of every castle and building would crumble except for those walls about them. He didn't want to appear like he was breaking down. He wasn't. He was merely being contemplative. Hot passion of arousal was replaced with scalding ardor. Could he really step aside and allow another man to marry her , to bed her? It turned his stomach. He had already killed one king.

All the power of Casterly Rock would not save his neck if he vanquished another. Unfortunately he required his neck where it was in order to breathe , and breathe in the scent of his darling sister. Hands flexed and fingers began digging into the small of her back ; the sudden flare of anger receded and gentle touch returned. Quite suddenly , Jaime opened his eyes and picked Cersei off the ground as easily as one would pick a flower from the earth. He carried her to stand at the stone window as if daring her to let the world see them. Yet he wished not to flare her tempers or paranoia , so they did not stand very close , not that anyone was likely to see them from such a height and angle. Jaime did not say anything else for a long while as he held his sister.

❛ . . . . and you are my freedom, sweet sister. You are mine. ❜

[spockvarietyhour]

Black Sails XIX

[irnbrn]

Writing soon . . .

[gcldencrownofsorrow]

Jaimes proposal was nothing but a jest, a offer to take her hand and escape into the night, or at least into a fantasy where they would live happily ever after. She knows its a fools erranded, She knows....enough of what had happened, when Tywin learned of Tyrion wedding a whore.... she can guess the rest, and the thought makes her, as it would any woman, shudder. They would be shunned when caught, perhaps even executed.. and yet some treacherous part of her heart whispers; 'Wed him, Run, flee to where neither Valonqar, Robert, nor the gods can reach you.' But the lioness does not listen to her impulses. Its cowardice, a wish to run form her fears. to hide in the strength of Jaimes arms and bask in the safety she feels there... No, nothing good has ever come form fleeing, nor would it aid her now. She prides herself on her strength, but with her twins hands on her body, it is impossible not to surrender. He is her world in this moment. his scent fills the air, the feeling of cold steel, chilling her though her own silks. his hair acting as a curtain making his eyes all she can see. - he is stunning, and her lips seem to seek his jawline, by their own accord. 'Yes' she nearly whispers. 'make me yours, no one elses, marry me Jaime.' Unfortunately his presence does not hinder her hearing, and the voices, cuts though to her core, and forces her back to reality. her spine straight, her pose seeing like she is standing on needles. it feels as though she's been submerged into the icy water of blackwater bay. and she is left gripping onto his arm for dear life. 'if they catch us' Perhaps its why she has been avoiding him. to avoid his insistence that they would be okay, to not be tempted by promises that there was a place. so far away where no one would know Tywins golden twins, where they could be at peace. Perhaps thats also why she does not tell him just how frightened she is.. of Robert and of the Frogs prophecy both. 'You will wed the king. '

The remark about her luck was enough to churn her stomach. the sound of their laughter was twisted against the red brick walls, and reminded her of Melaras screeching... Jaime making a joke of it, only served to worsen it. She felt physically ill, as she always did when the hags words threatened to flood her. she moves away from him, back to him, arms wrapped tightly around her own torso "Lock the door." she instructs. and reaches for a pitcher of arbor red, of which she pours but a single cup. Fearful anyone would ask who had drunk from the second, she claims the first sip herself before turning to hand him the rest.

"do you recall... back when i still retained bedmaids? " She asks, feeling herself shaking from cold or nerves she does not know. but she knows she cannot tell him of the prophecy. not tonight nor any night. "those girls reminded me of that, of hearing them gossip about you." she notes, masking her fears behind a smile. "I am certain, if Hetherspoon had still been alive today, she'd have argued being in your arms, is what makes me the luckiest woman alive."

[irnbrn]

Jaime prided himself , like the very sigil of their family name , wholly knowing his sister — in and out. Just as he knew the stubborn woman would never chose to leave their namesake behind for love , he also knew there were many thoughts poisoning her mind to cause a sour mood. They shared the same womb. On the gods , he likely knew her body more than his own , so a smile born from falsities was easily spotted like iron among gold. The Lannister sigil should have been modified to that of a donkey for the stubbornness of their family knew no constraints. Jaime would include himself in the arse pack , except he would give up everything for her. Surely it would be a rough start and arguments would sour their nighttime activities , but did not love conquer all ? Jaime's most of all which was stronger than dragon fire.

He would burn the world for her although he preferred to make a world for her. Oh to spend an entire day building a home of their own , going to the cookfire to see a roasted peasant , and then bathing in neighboring stream before covering all of Cersei with his kisses. Yes , he would like that a lot. If she still wished for that bit of luxury , he would not be opposed to the woman bringing some jewels and dresses ; a trunk's worth would be fine. However he didn't see the practicality of wearing an exquisite gown while toiling around in hilarious attempt at starting a garden. It was the life for him. It was not the life of her.

Cersei needed wine , food which made a peasant simply cry from sheer imagination , people to manipulate , and politics. She was more like their father than either of them would like to admit which made for quite the distasteful mental image. Eyes rolled so harshly into the back of his skull that had he been struck , it was likely his eyes would remain fixed. Knowing that panic was just panic , Jaime followed her obediently while keeping lips shut. Any reassurances he could offer would be brushed away like water off a duck's feathers. He , too, was not foolish enough to keep her anchored in place lest he suffer a severe punishment. Damn those witches. Jaime wished to thrash someone or , at the very least , knock his fist against the pitcher of wine.

❛ Yes... ❜

He answered softly . . apprehensively , not knowing where the question would lead them , rather lead him. In truth , he believed his response hardly mattered when his dearest sister got this way. He took the copper cup but only swirled the red wine. Cersei had pressed her lips to more cups in attempt to addle her mind than she would press her lips on him. He did not pretend to take interest in the wine , but he held it for her like some simpering serving woman. His dense blonde eyebrows ascended over his forehead at the foolishness of her words. If only someone would tell her such. If only she believed it so. Jaime battled rage and love in his heart that it made for quite the tiring thing. He placed the cup down despite his desire to throw it , then held her chin with thumb and forefinger.

❛ What a delicious truth that would be. ❜

She made a monster out of him. He quickly released her face to position his hands on her body where he manipulated her ( in the only manner he could ) , so that her back and rear pressed flush against the front of his body. He held her gently while harboring all this resentment and grief. Did she even care? Would she even notice it from the way he sighed?

❛ So do you feel lucky or do you feel trapped? ❜

To force the melancholy down , Jaime refrained from nuzzling against her neck. Instead he went for the profane , the monster she made him to be , and sought to shove his hand beneath her skirts.

[irnbrn]

[desertedinurban]

HIGH FASHION BIRDS BY - Deserted In Urban

[irnbrn]

for some odd reason i really love this, and it makes me think of Wheel of Time clothing, and I can see some peoples and kingdoms wearing this in ASOIAF.

[cliffbooth-arc]

BRAD PITT Legends of the Fall, 1994

[irnbrn]

Nothing like starting Winter's Heart and there are back to back chapters about naked women marching through the snow and being spanked for being bad, and then two women undergoing a ritual to become sisters which of course involves them being naked.

I'm looking at you, Robert Jordan.

[irnbrn]

ooc. I am finally on the eight book of Jordan's Wheel of Time, and funny enough makes me miss writing ASOIAF. Rather, it makes me want to get back into high fantasy.

[irnbrn]

I really do miss writing on here. May attempt a thing or two.

[irnbrn]

What does it mean to be a father? Does any man know?

How many bastard children litter the realms? Does staying with a family transform a man to fatherhood? What if the father beats his child and show no love nor compassion for his offspring . . is he still a father? What about a man who raises a child that is not of his own blood, is he considered a father? 

Being considered a man is placed in higher regard than being considered a supportive and loving father, and that may be the flaw of society and mankind. 

Jaime remembers seeing Tywin Lannister smile. The memory is so warped by the frigidness and solemnity that followed the rest of Jaime’s life that it seems like a blurry image conjured by dream or imagination. He knows it’s true. There was happiness in Casterly Rock once; there was a loving father present once . . Did Tywin suddenly transform from a father to a man with the death of Joanna? Jaime does not know. Jaime does not know a many of things. Had his mother lived and his father remained happy would Jaime become something more than a kingslayer and sister fucker? 

Tywin swapped roles from fatherhood to manhood, and perhaps that is the real sin of a father to pass on love when it was within the palm of their hands. Would Joffrey been spared a terrible death and an even more terrible demeanor if his real father had been present in his life with an encouraging and warm touch? What would come of Tommen and Myrcella? Cersei was so concerned being a mother while Jaime did not care in the slightest about being a father.

Jaime is much like a child with twisted ego, hopes of grandeur, and harboring a love which could never be. Too much of a child to be mature enough to become a real father. Too much of a child that he secretly wished that Tywin had loved him more than an heir to a pile of rocks and spent gold. 

[allovesthings]

Listen, Cersei is a bad politician and makes decisions that are incredibly counterproductive to the Lannister and incredibly funny sometimes but holy shit putting Rubies (Rhaegar's symbolic gemstone) with her black "grieving" gown, which would essentially be her wearing Targaryen colors, for Robert after his death was such a fucking move.

Bravo, 10 out 10, nothing to say here,probably my favorite thing she ever does. This was the correct and only choice she could have made in this moment.

It's so petty and Robert frankly deserves it.

[kudriaken]

House Lannister. My fanart series for the Great Houses from the ASOIAF. I wanted to make this for the longest time.