#cursedslayer

[crwninglry]

days   that   would   have   typically   been   spent   at   his   side,   have   been   spent   alone.    the   more   she   thought   of   it,   the   angrier   she   became.   he   was   her   brother,   he   was   her   twin,   her   other   half.   and   the   lioness  knew   she’d   have   to   marry   one   day,   provide   heirs,   do   her   duty.    though   for   some   odd   reason,   she’d   never   given   much   thought   to   jaime’s   future   –––––   until   now   of   course.   not   until   their   father   announced    that   a   perspective   bride   would   be   visiting   casterly   rock   to   make    acquaintances   with   jaime.   the   words   left   father’s   mouth   and   she   hadn’t   felt   at   ease   since.

her   green   hues   watched    the   waves   as   they   crashed   against   the   boulders.   the   smell   of   salt   was   strong.    a   place   that   had   once   made   her   calm,   brought   her   PEACE,   now   brought   her   nothing.   she  was   seeking   comfort   in   all   the   wrong   places.   or   perhaps   there   was   just   no   comfort   to   be   found.    it    shouldn’t   matter   to   her   who   jaime   decided   to   marry,   to   father   children   with   ––––   yet   it   did.    far   too   much.     keep   away,    she   thought,   the   less   you   see   him    the   less   outraged   you   will   be.   

the   sound   of   heavy   boots   on   the   stone   pulled   her   from   her   thoughts.   her   silly,   irrational,   thoughts.    the   girl    did   not   need   to   look   to   know   it   was   him.    if   there   was   a   presence   she   recognized   most   in   her   bones,    it   was   his.       “   any   day   now,   ”   she   speaks,   the   tone   in   her   voice   somehow   equally   bitter   as   it   was   polite,    “    you   must   be   getting   nervous.    i   hear   she’s   beautiful.   with   raven    colored   hair   and   piercing   blue   eyes.   and   we   know   father    wouldn’t   let   you   marry   anyone   less   than   perfect.    ”       (    @cursedslayer    !    )

[redqheen]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑’𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌,      𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖛𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞,      𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗.     the traitor who sat upon her father’s thrones is now all but stripped of her title,     her crown      :      𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍.     drogon is restless beneath her,      the fire churns restlessly inside them both.      a need,      an urge.      𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚂𝚄𝙵𝙵𝙴𝚁.      𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙱𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳.      but she remembers,        she remembers why she came here.     to free the people of king’s landing,      to break the wheel.      but there are carnal,      animal like instincts the dragon queen cannot ignore     :     𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉.      but not at the expense of those innocent.      amethyst hues settle on the lannister army,     the ringing of steel clattering against ground.      𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚒 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛,     BRING HER TO ME ALIVE.      her command is given in the common tongue,     take her brother too,     he will be with her.     this however,      is now spoken in high valyrian,     she wants nothing and no one to interfere with her plans for cersei.

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄.    she is a true targaryen,      one who wears her name with pride.      but her legacy will not bear resemblance to her father’s.     𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝.     but it is not lost on her,     the fear her children instil in those all around them.      𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬,      but if they were,      𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨.      but now she does not hear the sounds around her.      the soon to be appointed queen only hears the dull,    far away sound of the bell ringing.     it’s trill’s echoed all around her     :      muted as if she is stood in a 𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖔.

𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞,     𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙.     the vibrations resonating throughout her small,     once demure form.     thump,     thump,     thump.     and it seems her children also feel it.     wings raised,     𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒     carried across the wind,     into the new day.      for the first time in centuries,     westeros is given reward,     hearing the song of dragon’s.     sometimes,     she remember’s how she’d wished she could go home,     back to the red door with the lemon tree just outside.     𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝚂𝙷𝙴’𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃     .     .     .      once upon a time.    (     perhaps,     she always will,     longing for the childhood she never had.     )      but now,     as her frame is lowered to solid ground,     stood besides drogon,     who is flanked by his brothers.     there is one clear thought      :      𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.      amethyst catching sight of all the lannister men who have surrended,     her own armies watching over the defeated.     the people of king’s landing emerge from their homes to the sight of daenery’s and her dragons before them in front of the red keep.        ›        ❪        plotted     starter     for     @cursedslayer       ❫

[roseguided-a]

      TO SAY SHE WAS SURPRISED TO SEE HIM  WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.   jaime lannister leaving his sisters side of his own free will?  not a concept many would be thought possible , but rosalie was glad to see him none-the-less.     (   rosalie had only seen him a handful of times over the past several years ,  but that never diminished he fondness she had for the king slayer.  )      hands remained clasped over one another as she stands inside the courtyard of winterfell ,  body giving the slightest shutter against cold winter winds that ruffle long , slightly unruly blonde locks.   cloak hands heavy on her shoulders ,   the fur shrouding her serves in warming body unaccustomed to such RUTHLESS winter time !    ;     smile presses against lips when seeing him , dimples settling deep into flushed , porcelain cheeks.     ❝ far from home , aren’t we?  ❞  wonders the woman with a arched brow ,  tone as playful as it could be given the situation they’ve found themselves in.   soon enough the dead would march on this snow covered wonderland ,  the night king hell bent && determined to erase them from ever existing at all.   rosalie often wonders ,  what had they done that had been deemed so monstrous in his eyes?     ❝ i’m glad to see you’ve decided to fight for the LIVING.  wise choice , if i can say so. . . i made the same choice not to long ago. ❞   deep breath is taken in , lungs burn.    ❝ i’m . . happy to see you again.  ❞    / @cursedslayer   gets a random starter !

[ofsapphyres]

“ i just didn’t know you. “

‴  is   that   really   your   excuse   for   treating   people   like   dirt   from   beneath   your   boots  ?  ‷   𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 , 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑦                a   cursory   glance   &   a    suspicious   huff   is   offered   in   response ,   letting  him   know   her   enduring   distaste  for     their   first   encounters .   but  a   kind   heart   𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭   𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐧   𝐡𝐢𝐦   𝐧𝐨𝐰 .   she   becomes    aware  of  her  stance ,  half - turned   away ,  un-engaging                  first   meetings   feel   an  𝖆𝖌𝖊   away   &    though   brienne   won’t   call   him   𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 ,  she  is   concerned  of   radiating   the   same  𝖔𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖓  through   her  silence .   so ,  abruptly ,   as  if   afraid   of   forgetting  jaime’s   kindness  to  her , continues :      ‷  𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥  𝐲𝐨𝐮  𝐝𝐨   𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰   𝐦𝐞   𝐧𝐨𝐰                there  are   bigger  problems  to   face   than  our   bickering . ‷        &   so  his  gaze  is  met ,     ‴  you’re   a  𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓   𝒎𝒂𝒏   𝒏𝒐𝒘  .  ‷       :  spoken   with  candour ,  honesty                  it would    never  cross  her  mind  to  do   otherwise .

@cursedslayer !

[quccnnorth-archive]

“i’ll protect you.”

@cursedslayer

AUBURN BROWS CURVE UPWARDS, an unreadable expression etched upon the eldest stark daughter’s face. why did jaime lannister think his pledged loyalty was necessary? she was in winterfell, she was safe. sansa had her own loyal men to protect her, men who had families who never slaughtered her loved ones. oh, but jaime lannister sure did.

yet, she’s gracious. this was what a real queen was supposed to do. they were to remain calm and poise, never wear expressions upon one’s sleeves. never truly expose their inner emotions and thoughts. ironically enough, this was a lesson taught to her by the man before her’s sister. c e r s e i. sansa had learned quite a lot from cersei lannister. though, though her time with jaime was limited. she hadn’t known much -- just rumors. conflicting reports, depending who you asked. yet, brienne swore her life on jaime’s loyalties not all too long ago when he had come to battle the dead. sansa had trusted brienne more than anyone -- so back then, she had granted him to stay. but much has changed since then, brienne was no longer here to vouch for him. sansa had known he had upped and left to go down south. she didn’t know why, but she assumed -- and she assumed it was for cersei. though cersei was dead and he was here, swearing loyalty to protect the queen in the north before all of her men. tully blue eyes study him, an intensity in their gaze that was piercing. she wasn’t sure what to make of this situation, so she remained quiet, waiting to see if he’d reveal anything else to her. 

❝ is that so, ser jaime? ❞ her voice echoes through the chamber, the queen sitting tall in her throne. her posture matched her attitude -- frigid. her fingers drumroll against the arm rests of the throne, eyes watching the reactions of northmen surrounding them. none of them looked enthused by the lannister’s presence, though the queen didn’t take that into account. ❝ why should i trust you? why is it that you’ve come all the way up north to swear protection to me? what i see, is that there’s no reason for such loyalties. many would advise me that accepting your protection would be -- frankly, stupid. ❞

[czarowanie-a-blog]

*     @cursedslayer​   ♡ ‘d.

‘ YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME,       and i      --      about you.   ’       a star made of dragonglass adorning her neck is not a sigil, not even a  sign  ; yet it serves its purpose just fine. a  REMINDER  of who she is, without a   burden of belonging   to any house, without a heritage        --        and without a  past , if she so wishes to disregard it completely.  this is a luxury the man before her might never be able to afford, for black and white are nothing more than   colours    --      and red and gold are a  symbol .  that  much she knows without knowing  too  much.

                                            ‘ -------- is that not   refreshing  ? ’

[chosenviolence]

❛   𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋,  jaime.  a golden fool.   robert is here,  and so are you.  the room is not big enough for both of you.  𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄,  now.   ❜

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   ;   @cursedslayer

[crwninglry]

eyes   always   wandering.   always   watching.   watching  the   new   queen,  the   golden   haired   lioness.   power   suited  her.  she  wore  it   as   if   she   was   born   for   it.   though   at   this   moment,   power   was   the   furthest   thing  from   her  mind.   she   did   not   ache  for   a   stroll   in   the   garden   with   her   ladies,   they   were   daft,   boring.   she   only   craved   one   thing,   jaime.   jaime   wasn’t   boring.   jaime   was   the   thrill   of   her   life,   the   love   of   her   life.   a   forbidden  one,   but  one  all   the   same.  

robert   had   left    hunting,   and   she  preferred  it  that   way.   each   night  he   was   gone   was   a   night   she   didn’t   have   to   spend   with   him   on  top   of   her,   whispering   the   name   of   his   former   lover   in   hear   ear.   not   that   she   could   bring   herself   to   care.   the   route   to   his   chambers   had   become   a   muscle   memory.   lately   it   had   been   to    dangerous   for   him   to   come   to   her   ––––   who   knew   when   robert   would   reappear.   her   chambers   were   guarded,   his   was   not. 

the   blonde   slips   through   his   doors,   quiet   and   swiftly   and   the   door   shuts   softly   behind   her.   she’s   at   ease   now.   she   hears   the   sound  of   his   boots   echoing   as   he  rounds   the  corner   into   view.   “   he’s   gone,    ”   she   watched  him  ride   off   for   herself,   “   you   won’t   be   needing   the   cloak   today,   or   your   boots.   anything,   really.   ”   her   tone   is   light,   playful   even,   a   tone   only   he   would   receive.   “    today   you   are   mine.   ”   at   last.           (    @cursedslayer   !   )