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“ regicide has always had such a nice ring to it ” 👋👀

meme / closed : @crownedclaw

REGICIDE : THE ACT OF KILLING A KING. & with a sidelong glance, FEIGNING BOREDOM, he watches the so called golden lion who slayed his own king and earned himself the title of KINGSLAYER in these foreign lands. ‘ what’s about the aspect of BECOMING A KING — OR QUEEN — that makes even reasonable people behave like idiots ? ’ ivar lingers in the chair which has been offered to him, legs stretched out & a knife twirling around his finger. ‘ i have been told that my mother accepted defeat the day lagertha — NOW QUEEN LAGERTHA — conquered kattegat. once a small village which has blossomed and become wealthy under my mother’s rule. my mother only asked for safe passage to wherever she chooses to go— but the new queen decided to put an arrow in her back after she made mother believe she accepts her condition instead. ’ an act of cowardice & betrayal for which ivar will loathe & detest lagertha until the end of her days. & YOU KNOW IT’S A DARK MOOD THAT NO ONE CAN DISPEL UNTIL THE PRICE IS PAID SIMILAR IN KIND. he bears his teeth the moment his attention turns back towards the kingslayer with an intense & fevered stare. have they more in common than one might think ? he, who killed his own king for someone else to seize the throne, WHO HAS SHOWN NO INCLINATION TO BECOME KING HIMSELF. ‘ THE FAITH OF THE SEVEN— your common people seem to believe there are indeed seven different gods, but it’s just one, isn’t it ? how does this god feel about revenge ? do you even live by that god ? ’ he asks with a softened tone containing wonder, eerily to anyone who has seen him covered in blood & taken by blood rage. as intrigued he’s been to gaze at him with focus, as quick he shifts back into casual territory as he pulls at his legs to adjust his seating position. ‘ i have one last question about your… regicide. for whom did you do it ? for the king leading the rebellion ? or for the people who suffered under the reign you shattered ? ’

#crownedclaw #he is so inquisitive i can't #i love writing him so much already #leave it to ivar to talk about his murdered mother the new faith in westeros as well as why jaime slayed a king at once #—— II. ANSWERED : INFLUENCING FUTURE DECISIONS / LIKE WHISKEY IN THE HANDLE OF A WALKING STICK #—— II. RAGNARSSON : TO FIND TRUE BLISS IN THE SILENCE OF NATURE. HE / WHEN DREAMS BECOME WORDS TO SHARE

“I may be tall, but my temper is short.”

— @crownedclaw —

such bold statement, VEHEMENT even — and he’s trying his very best to keep a straight facade, and likely failing. why, you see all sorts of people around the slums… the Wall Market, in particular, is ever ripe with burlesque entertainers in colorful clothing, and a horde of fans seeking the gym and its stars, and men in suits with questionable morals and seemingly a different purpose every day. this one, however, Jon has spotted for the first time today; simply a potential client like any other or he ought to be — if it wasn’t for the hue of his eyes.

MAKO ENERGY isn’t of his liking, truth be told — one with such deep connection with the land and all its natural wonders, how can he spare appreciation for ugly, dark buildings that darken the skies with their pollution and suck the life out of the planet. is he a romantic? an idealist? perhaps he is… candid flowers blossoming in a church cannot deter progress, after all. and progress is good, or so SHINRA loves to claim; intoxicating minds as much as they do nature. that cheeky tongue is gonna be the death of you one day, Jon is used to hearing, and it is a lesson he clearly has no interest in learning.

‘ so i see, mister. ‘

as grumpy as you are tall, he almost adds, but holds back at last second --- reckoning that an opportunity for sale is still worth more than getting on a stranger’s nerves out of sheer boredom; it’s been a slow day, and food for Ghost won’t pay itself. nevertheless, the glint of enticement never truly leaves stormy greys, as his mind burns with questions he’d love to ask --- such a different universe that is, the one atop the plate and above the clouds of pollution, and he’s willing to bet this tall, grumpy man belongs there. either that or outside Midgar entirely... it’s just his gut feeling, and he tends to be quite accurate with these. either way --- the charming smile returns to his features and deft fingers bring a beautiful white flower out of the basket, holding it up for the stranger almost PROUDLY.

‘ but will you take one? they’re only a gil. ‘

#crownedclaw #「ᵖᵃʳᶜʰᵐᵉᶰᵗˢ」ᵈᵃʳᵏ ʷᶤᶰᵍˢ; ᵈᵃʳᵏ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ #ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ✻ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ #also remember that VII idea we've talked of #but never really wrote for #i hereby raise you your favorite flower boy #and their first meeting

@crownedclaw said: If you dont :* me, i will see u in small claims court… but if u wear a suit then ill forget this whole ass nonsense

there is something strange thrumming in the bones of westerosi land. corvo attano knows the rolls of the dunwall hills and the cobblestone of serkonan alleyways. godswood trees and the speech of nobles is unfamiliar to him. jaime has never been a westerosi man as corvo’s known. corvo has known northerners, southerners. he had lived through the stay of one stray wildling to flee to the isles and tell emily stories that’d drenched her mind with 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨. jaime lannister is something with 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙚𝙮, buried under common whispers and the bones that had begun them. there is little corvo knows better than that. a thousand times he has nearly asked : 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝? 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜?

he has considered himself many thing through the years. a fool has never been one; he hears whispers in the halls. the clearing of his name will never fully clear him unless every man in the isles were to see daud drive a blade through jessamine themself. but that will never happen, so corvo attano walks his own home a stranger.

𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙, and this. this is what he and jaime have to share. other than their nights, of which they’ve had plenty, nearly falling of the buildings they sat upon. he remembers wishing he was wine drunk on a visit to check his virtue to the loyalists. he remembers wanting to press jaime lannister to stone and into tall grass, to dock posts and bar walls. corvo has sated waking hours and dull conversations with the thought of jaime lannister atop him, as he’s known karnaca waves crashing against his chest.

formalwear has never suited him. he will never pretend it does, for he’s never been as good an actor as he is a swordsman. the masquerade ball does; he knows the steps to dunwall dances and the names of each noble under each mask. nights hidden away with jessamine feel long ago because they are. but jaime is there, red-blooded and pacing rooms. for all his own tells a westerosi lannister has his own.

it is 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮, in this, to sit and hand jaime lannister drinks and forget that he shouldn’t be there. there is something simple in pretending they do not know one another.

❝ your steps are wrong. it’s three, before the turn. not four. ❞ corvo says, quiet as a crypt.

it is simple to let jaime’s hands roam his chest. he can almost hear jaime, before he even speaks: 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬? they don’t. so he stays silent. 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜: he would let his mask move if jaime’s hand reached for it. but corvo moves first, hand dipping underneath gilded lion’s mouth as his thumb brushes along his lips. they talk too much, he determines.

❝ shut them. ❞ corvo tells him, as he has before.

when corvo pushes aside the mask of a lion, he puts his hand over jaime’s eyes, as he has before. his mouth presses to him and jaime is such an easy thing that corvo can hardly stand it. his heart is beating quick in pace with jaime’s breathing. he thinks of them, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 and 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 - 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧. neither of them where they should be, how the commoners would love to see them hung by strings! he has thought of this, now, more often than the westerosi have thought of either of them.

#🔪 ― even now you shake at the sound of chains.#crownedclaw #i have some thoughts..............................#the thoughts: corvojaime post dh1 and when corvos name is cleared.#in the context of jaime having been turned away from helping the lord regent and helping corvo + the loyalists instead #and corvo needs time to recover. to help emily n the kingdom to recover #but he still sneaks off to the next annual masquerade party Fucker!#corvo having been looking at jaime at every chance in court for the last year and actively missing 'checking up' on him: hrn #what a Way to kick this off.#🔪 ― let the course sand bury me‚ lest the weight of the cold come for my child.

crownedclaw replied to your post: whispers icb arya and jon have the same hairdo

RIGHT ! i was thinking she looked more similar to flashback!ned but YEAH SAME HAIRDO

YES THOUGH she does actually have flashback ned’s hair, she looks just like him, like that’s important tbh

#crownedclaw #ooc.#SAME HAIR #they all have the same hair bless 'em

"I know that one day, I will fall on my sword. "

DIVINE COLLECTION SENTENCE MEME. ( accepting ) ❤ @crownedclaw

WHICH REPRESENTS THEIR MOST PROBABLE FATE MUCH LIKE A THREAD SPUN, MEASURED AND CUT. but altaïr has always been refusing to resign himself to expectations placed upon him. branding himself as one who rebels and who keeps disturbing the peace where others see no reason for change. one who sees things differently, who isn’t fond of rules and who does not pay as much respect either to authorities nor to religious faith as others desire him to. does he want to die for the creed after everything he sacrificed already ? ‘ what’s truly worth knowing is, whether or not that’s something you want. do you want to die with your sword in hand, fighting a war which is probably not even yours ? or would you rather grow old and be buried with a sword which has not seen any blood for decades. ’ it might surprise many to learn how much altaïr yearns for quiet days in which he can walk away from responsibilities and busy himself with hundreds of books he desires to catch up with. he does not rue the day in which he attached the hidden blade onto his forearm, knows he does not mind to imagine dying with the blade still attached, but he has no desire to walk and die in the shadows. he favors knowledge over death and wants to have enough time in which he can write down his own lessons. lessons he made from his own mistakes as well as his realizations walking forward. for now, however, he allows the scar on the corner of his mouth to stretch along with the curl of his lips. he imagines gold hair losing their brightness, becoming more bland and dusty until they turn into grey. some of which he can already witness every time they see each other again after month of separation. he reaches out to take a hold of jaime’s sword hand, running his fingers across his knuckles. ‘ i want to grow old before i fall asleep and never wake up. i want to be given the time and peace to read books and to write down my own. above all, i want to see my children grow and have their own families. i do not want to be alone, however. ’

#crownedclaw #—— XII. CROWNEDCLAW / SHIP : NEVER TRY TO DISCERN HIS SUFFERING. HE / AN ETERNAL ANTHEM BEHIND DRAPED CURTAINS #the perk of being not an english native speaker is that you immediately have different ways to interpret that sentence #are you referring to your d/ick as a sword??#or believe it will be your own sword that will kill you??#i love them so much help #—— II. ANSWERED : INFLUENCING FUTURE DECISIONS / LIKE WHISKEY IN THE HANDLE OF A WALKING STICK #—— II. ASSASSIN : HE / FIRST UNDERESTIMATED FOR HE THINKS DEEPER THAN SPOKEN AND KNOWS MORE THAN SAID