#tymptir : jaime

[thesellsword]

EVERYONE JAIME SAID I WAS AN ELEVEN. I KNEW HE LOVED ME.

[wulv3r]

Jaime Lannister ( @tymptir ) , who is literally a prisoner, asked ❝don’t i have a say in this? i’m sitting right here.❞

Robb looked at him incredulous. "No you don't have a say, Lannister. You're the prisoner. Prisoners don't have says. Now shut it before I have you gagged."

[king7doms]

"Nothing but sitting with mother, when she was not within the council chambers." Her mother had taken to keeping her and Tommen close, as though they might be stolen away from her arms in the middle of the day, as though they were not always surrounded by loyal guards. At least, she hoped they were loyal guards. She was still just a child, and what was whispered about the happenings of the realm was enough to scare her, and certainly her younger brother, who might even be more soft and gentle than she is.

She smiles at her uncle, glad that he's returned to King's Landing safely. While she hasn't been told the details of his time away, she has heard enough talk, and she might be a child still, but resents the implication that she is too young to hear the truth. "Are you going to stay this time? Or do you have to leave again?"

@king7doms says ❝ you’ve grown more amusing since last we met. ❞

SWEET CHILD , THAT'S TRAUMA . . . Tyrion smiles ; pale and beaten , still , from the involuntary journey to the Eyrie that had almost cost him his head - and yet there's a spark of joy in his mismatched eyes , one blazing green , the other black as the past months had been . he solely and gratefully blames Myrcella for it . seeing her again , no matter the previous hardship , feels like the sunrise after a long , dark night . here is to hoping her mother won't be able to snuff that flame out one day .

" well , I unfortunately have found I won't be growing any taller , so I had to grow in other ways . " he offers an impish smirk , hands reaching out to cup his niece's cheeks and press a good - night's kiss to her forehead . a proper bed calls , for which he is more than grateful , whilst still doubting he'd be restored over night . not with this new , unnerving task of ruling . . . as Hand to the king . should have stayed with those mountain clans . " now , tell me - what has my favorite princess done all day ? more pleasant things than I have , I hope . "

[rideswhales]

ｄａｓｈ　ｇａｍｅ. ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ 　ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎ　ｇｅｎｅｒａｔｏｒ.

some hcs were omitted or lightly altered due to her medieval setting.

bold = always true, italics = sometimes true, struck out = never true.

Dreyna  Spotfin  will  go  feral.  Watch  out.

Dreyna  Spotfin  instinctively  cleans  messes  in  their  own  house cabin,  as  well  as  other  people's.

Dreyna  Spotfin  can  kill  you  in  an  instant,  but  won't. *She  is  a  skilled  ranged  fighter,  but  this  is  more  applicable  to  the  skinchanger  relationship  with the spotted whale  'Her'.

Dreyna  Spotfin  has  a  horribly  bad  weak immune  system. *Specifically  due  to  her  limited  exposure  to  nutrition  sources,  whether  on  Whale  Isle  or  aboard  a  ship/when  sailing.

Dreyna  Spotfin  had  an  emo  phase. *Less so in a stylistic sense, but certainly in angsty-emotional sense.

Dreyna  Spotfin  a  pathological  liar.

Dreyna  Spotfin  screams  like  an  anime  girl.

Dreyna Spotfin always has good dreams. *Since  she  can  remember,  Dreyna's  dreams  ("swimming  dreams")  have  always  been  pleasant  and  an  escape  from  her  personal  life.  She  does  not  have  regular  dreams,  nightmares,  etc.

Dreyna  Spotfin  likes  being  alone.

Dreyna  Spotfin  needs  a  nightlight  lamp/candle  to fall  sleep.

ｔａｇｇｅｄ　ｂｙ : indirectly lmao @stormbcrn ｔａｇｇｉｎｇ: @azmenka , @tymptir (def for joron & euron), @bigdaddydaemon / @lannisterslion / @zoklaanogar , @snowfyres / @harezaldrizi (rhaenys, visenya, argella for sure), @drcgonborn / @volcre , @dcviline / @greyjcy (ofc sabitha, jaime) ! I HAVE SEEN A LOT OF MY MUTUALS POST THIS SO IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TAGGED, THIS IS ME TAGGING YOU!

[hiddensteel]

@tymptir  said             “  i’ve never met anyone quite like you.  ” ( from Jaime )

        lips were pressed into a thin line as her gaze drifted over the lannister. she still didn’t know what to make of him. brienne spoke highly of him, which was why his prolonged stay in winterfell had been granted, and of his VOW to her late mother, but sansa found herself haunted by the past. she had no fond memories of any who bore his family name. how could she t r u s t that he wasn’t cut the same? her bannermen certainly believed he was. but for now sansa placed her faith in brienne and her MOTHER’S MEMORY.          ❝  is that a compliment, ser jaime? ❞          head tilted slightly to the side, eyes curious, hoping for his honesty, but not unguarded.

softer prompts  |  accepting !

[lordustin-a]

➜ - smack my muse upside the head (from Jaime)

The heat was unbearable -- yet years spent in the south did little to temper Wyllas to its warmer climates. He was more used to adding layers to his clothing, not shedding them. 

Jaime was off and away, likely sizing up who he was supposed to meet on the track during the joust, while Wyllas hide himself in the comforts of the tent-- in the shade. The gold helmet he was tasked to hold on to sat cradled in his lap; he was supposed to be shining it, for when Jaime returned but he was too enraptured by the knights that walked by. Two years he’d been with Jaime Lannister, as his squire; following the man about King’s Landing (and elsewhere), like his shadow. He lingered in the trail of his bellowing cape, always three steps behind, yet always ready to take the lead should his knight need something. Needless to say, the man had grown on him, oddly enough. Wyllas remembers that at sixteen he held such a deep contempt for southroners-- still did-- but Jaime was always kind to him. He never gave the boy any reason to hate him.

He swats at the flies buzzing around his head, hand coming back down to rest on the cool dome of the helmet in his lap. He looks at it, turns around his hands, wondering if maybe it was really made of gold. Impulse seizes him, roughly combing back his thick red curls with one hand, as he maneuvers the helmet on with the other. It slides over his head all too easily, and Wyllas immediately notices how little he can see in it. Not to the left or right, just straight ahead. He turns one way, looks down the road at all oblivious to the squire outside his tent, and midturn, he feels a shove at the back of his head, but not truly a shove, more like a slap. 

Wyllas has to turn fully, hands on his (Jaime’s) helmet, fumbling to get the thing off. His hair flies in various directions as he scurries to pull himself together, rag already in hand. ❝ I-- ‘m sorry, Ser Jaime! ❞ His chest tightens, sweat beading on his forehead as he stands in front of him, swiping to get any dirt off his gold plated armour. Jaime looked so stern, if only for a passing second, before it melted into a cheeky grin-- likely finding amusement in his squire’s befuddlement. It puts Wyllas at ease, though. ❝ You’re a jerk, ser, ❞

@tymptir / meme

[sapphireoath-blog]

@tymptir liked [x]. 

          their journey so far has led to little else but PERIL. hunched low over their  horses’ bent necks are the two riders, their skin whipped raw by an unrelenting wind, their lips dry and bleeding, their chests aching so FIERCELY that conversation becomes some obsolete luxury of the past. of a time when they could laugh around the comforting fire of an inn with mugs of ale in hand and SECRET smiles under the cover of darkness.           it is jaime who pulls her attention elsewhere ------ a gloved hand gestures toward some leaning, hulking SHADOW in the distance. they do not ( or, perhaps, cannot ) speak a word as they lean into the tumult of ice and snow. the structure looms in the distance but as they draw nearer, it seems to keep the wind at bay, and for once in some uncountable number of days, brienne can hear her own heartbeat.           it must once have been an inn. the second story has caved in under the IMMENSE weight of snow which rests atop it, but the barroom looks intact ---- intact enough to build a fire that will not immediately be put out by the growing winter.           ‘ wood. ‘ her voice is a hoarse WHISPER, a dry and rasping thing that could have been a gust of snowy air. she points to jaime. ‘ food. ‘ and to herself.           SHELTER. after a week of shivering in caves and dense copses of bowing trees, they have shelter.

[zcldrizes-a]

tfw you spend your free time shading the muse you write about.

ft. @tymptir

[wolfqueennamedstark]

{ continued from HERE || @tymptir }

               Sansa sat in the chair with a cup in her hand. Her words were frank without emotion. A lot of her family had died for her because she made one stupid decision. It was hard not to harbor guilt in her chest because of it. After so long, she had believed that she had convinced her father that Joffery was the true king and deserved to sit on the Iron Throne. She was still infatuated with him and wanting to be queen… until her father’s head hit the ground and Ice dripped with his blood. Now she realizes that he only spoke those words because she was in the line of fire. If he announced to the kingdom that Joffery wasn’t the true king, he would have died anyway and she might of as well. Then Robb died fighting a war meant to rescue her. Then Dontos, though he was looking for the payout at the end rather than doing it for her benefit.

               The flicker of the fire reflected in her eyes as she turned to look at Jaime, “I know you’ve had your losses as well.” His children. As awful as Joffery was, he was still Jaime’s son. Then Myrcella and Tommen. Sansa mourned them when she heard the news. They had always been kind to her in King’s Landing, even inviting her to play with them. So many dead. It wasn’t going to end either. They were on the verge of a two front war. One to the North and one to the South. The dead then Cersei. Sansa didn’t want to march against Cersei, not in the South. It would be better if they waited and let Cersei make the first move. Let her come to them, but Daenerys would not wait here. Nor did Sansa want her to. Sansa didn’t want to fight that war at all.

               “You don’t have to stand there. Sit down. Have some tea. Maybe be the last moments of quiet we have for a long time.” Or at all. “We should take the time while we have it. Besides, I could use the company instead of a guard.” She looked forward to these moments at night. The quiet filled the room. There was no need to fill it. It was comfortable, but her mind still had so many question that couldn’t be asked out in the open for others to hear. “Why-- Why did you choose to kneel? Specifically in front of me?”

[wolfqueennamedstark]

{ @kingsguardknight @tymptir }

Besides, Kingslayers should band together

[goldcnlicn]

( @tymptir​ wrote: only a madman hears the truth as treason. ( from Tywin ) )

Treason, a word Jaime was very familiar with. Especially back up at the wall and what felt like around every damn corner he turned in the Red keep. He didn’t know which place was worse anymore, the cold dreary north or King’s Landing. They were just the same, apart from this horrible heatwave that raged through the land everywhere but the North. Jaime had been invited, no, summoned, to attend the wedding between his brother and Lady Sansa.

“Yet sometimes they’re one and the same.” he pointed out. He may have taken the black years ago, but he was still weary of his father the moment he didn’t exactly agree with him. “And sometimes, it’s imagination.” some people tended to warp answers to their own narrative. He’d seen it first hand with the Mad King all those years back. Jaime slowly walked the room, his fingers traced along the edge of the table where now the council meetings were held, he’d been told by his brother earlier. “Is philosophy what you summoned me for, Father? I’m afraid it’s not a topic I’m well versed in.”

[thesellsword]

“You came all the way from Stokeworth just to be upset with me?” ( from Jaime ) / @tymptir

"fucking yes, you bleedin' bastard," bronn's voice is hushed here, blue eyes almost dangerous. "and how dare you. what did you do? break off my bloody engagement? i would've had it good in that place. could've even made myself fall in love with that woman. but no. no, i get fucking word that the whole damn marriage is off." he points at him. "what the fuck are you planning? and it better have a bigger reward this time. or i swear to the seven, jaime lannister, i'll take your other godsdamn hand."

[youngestdcg]

@tymptir  ➔   ❝ And just like that, you’re here. ❞ ( from Jaime )  /  PROMPT.

     “  AND  WHAT  DO  YOU  MEAN  by  that,  ser  ??  ”  a  small  frown  crept  onto  her  features  at  the  kingslayer’s  words.  though  lannisters  and  cleganes  were  close  allies,  she  never  felt  the  same  strong,  unwavering  loyalty  as  her  bloodline  to  them.  there  had  always  been  an  air  about  them  that  unnerved  her,  though  she  could  not  initially  justify  why.  gregor  becoming  their  loyal  lap  dog  who  got  away  with  the  most  brutal  acts,  however,  eventually  did  give  her  a  reason.  the  things  he  did  horrified  even  iren,  someone  who  experienced  his  violence  first  hand,  and  the  fact  he  would  seemingly  never  meet  justice  was  just  as  scary.  even  so,  she  still  never  held  any  thoughts  of  ill-intentions  towards  the  lion  family,  but  she  would  never  lay  down  her  life  for  them.  she  had  decided  that  long  ago.  though  dogs  were  loyal  creatures,  they  would  always  be  more  intuitive.

     “  nevermind,  ”  she  continued  with  a  huff,  dropping  the  leather  reigns  of  her  horse.  “  i  was  summoned.  ”  she  shifted  in  her  saddle  before  slowly  sliding  from  it,  making  sure  that  her  good  leg  touched  the  ground  first.  though  she  struggled  getting  on  top  of  a horse  herself,  iren  prided  herself  on  at  least  being  able  to  get  off,  though  without  grace.  “  and  i  am  now  here,  ser.  ”

[caointeag]

"No, Clegane scares people because his face does it anyway. You scare people for fun." She says it with the certainty of someone who's already made up their mind. She's paid attention to Ser Jaime since Winterfell, he wasn't as interesting as his brother but he was even more famous. She knew the moniker kingslayer was meant as an insult but she couldn't agree. Perhaps if the king had been a different one she would but after everything Aerys had done she had been of the opinion that Jaime Lannister should be considered a hero. Of course meeting him had changed that. The longer she had been around the Lannisters and seen how they talked to and treated people the less she thought of them.

Cersei was undoubtedly a witch though she couldn't imagine any woman being happy married to that man. Jaime for all his charm was no better. He was cruel and mocking and flippant. He made people feel small and reminded them of his skill with a sword as if that was an answer to everything. It nags at her. How someone could have sense when he was a youth and then become so hollow and petty as an adult as beyond her. "You scare people, I know you're not blind or stupid enough to not see it."

@caointeag says ❝ does it give you joy to scare people? ❞ | from lyarra to jaime

" SCARE PEOPLE ? " DARK GOLDEN BROWS ARCH ABOVE EMERALD GREEN EYES ; the look of surprise on Jaime's face half mockery , half genuine amusement it seems . with the helmet recently removed , the tousled golden hair undermines the air of princely beauty even more than usual - and unless one had come to know the Kingslayer a little better , nothing about him seems particularly scary in this moment . she ( whoever she was ) most definitely does not know him better . especially not since he can hardly place a name to the face , other than Stark . one of the half dozen or so that have recently invaded the city thanks to a drunken oaf calling himself king .

" surely you must mistake me for one of the Cleganes . though , admittedly , I can hardly see how that's possible . " he flashes her a wolvish smile , charming in an infuriating way , and turns to finally leave his post by the king's chambers after hours of listening to his debauchery . again . a subtle feeling settles in his gut . the notion that she would follow him down the hallway for a while , until she found something better to do . . .

[rideswhales]

ｄａｓｈ　ｇａｍｅ. lonely wolf, little lamb, black sheep?

ｔｈｅ　ｌｏｎｅｌｙ　ｗｏｌｆ. you  hide  in  your  cave  all  by  yourself.  are  you  jealous  of  all  the  sheep  dancing  outside?  they  have  their  own  songs  and  their  own  games,  while  you  stay  in  the  dark.  does  it  hurt?  you  poor  little  puppy,  i  promise  it's  gonna  be  fine.  you  just  have  to  try  to  go  out.  i  know  it's  scary,  and  your  cave  is  so  comfortable,  but  what's  the  point  when  you're  so  alone?  you  can  do  this.  the  sheep  will  love  you.  your  strength  isn't  a  bad  thing.   the  same  sharp  teeth  that  can  be  used  to  harm  others  can  protect  them.  you're  not  bad.  you've  never  been.  you  just  have  to  try.  it'll  be  worth  it.

ｔａｇｇｅｄ　ｂｙ : no one, i just came across it ｔａｇｇｉｎｇ: @azmenka / @tymptir, @wintearys / @snowfyres / @harezaldrizi (rhaenys i, argella, viserys iii, aegon ii, cryanna), @dcviline (a got OC of your choice, jaime lannister) / @greyjcy, @khalsiya, @khalesci, @greendowager, @drcgonborn, @westsgem, @roguecrown, @king7doms / @worthyheir

[theyounglion]

‘ please smile. ’ (from Tyrion)

:[ | @tymptir

     PLEASE SMILE.  as if his heart hadn’t been ripped apart before him.  why is he still alive?  he should be dead.  the red keep caved on him and cersei, and yet he lives while CERSEI DIED.  their baby is dead.  life is not worth living.  he’d betrayed them all at the last possible second in order to save cersei.  he knew he would die with her, yet here he sits with tyrion, wounds healed from his battle with the kraken.  

        “. . . nothing brings joy, little brother.”  he says after a prolonged silence.  dry lips touch a goblet of wine; he’s taken cersei’s habit.  he can’t seem to part with the bitter liquid now.  it soothes.  it comforts with familiarity -- he tastes her kiss every time he sips.  “i don’t know what you’d like me to say.  alas.”  jaime pauses.  “though, i suppose i am grateful that i am not freezing at the wall.  no matter how many times you talked about the view from the wall, i have no interest in seeing it in person.”