independent & selective JOFFREY BARATHEON from g.r.r. martin's a song of ice and fire.book based / show-friendly. slow reply. written by nina. trigger heavy.
selective MULTI MUSE 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚊, she / they ( 21. ) triggering themes are present &. tagged accordingly. very duplicate friendly!HEAVILY UNDER CONSTRUCTION.
“Cruel Apollo smirks on his throne as he watches your heart leap like the wings on your back. He is bright and beautiful, and you have always been weak in the face of slender fingers and cruel mouths”
upper lip twitches, showing a flash of her canines, a glimpse of the wolf that lurks beneath the porcelain surface. normally it’s a docile she-wolf, like the one the lannisters had unjustly SLAUGHTERED, that her soul inhabits, but the same wolf blood that her kin are known for fills her veins as well. it is simply quieter, arising only in certain moments. he is trying to b a i t her now; he wants her to unravel before him so he can BOAST that even in chains he still controls the wolf bitch. but the days when she was his to torment are long gone. snarl quiets, melting into composure, as she meets the hatred burning in his eyes with cold calm. oh, she hates him, will ALWAYS hate him, but that is what he wants to see. so instead her eyes reply, you are too small for me to think of. she will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that what happened in king’s landing h a u n t s her still.
her armor of courtesy has only grown stronger; his words bounce off it. they do not even soil chilling smile. ❝YOU didn’t kill my brother. it was the freys who betrayed him, and roose bolton who drove the knife into his heart. you didn’t even give the order. your grandfather did. ❞ once he had taken joy in TORMENTING her about the fate of her mother and brother, but now it is she who wields the knife. and she knows where his flesh is w e a k. ❝ did you even know of the plan before it happened? after you ran away during the blackwater and leaving your uncle, the imp, to lead the charge i doubt they told you ANYTHING. ❞ she scoffs and takes aim for the lion’s underbelly. ❝ i was present when i retook my home but you? you’re too great a COWARD to kill anyone. ❞robb would have eaten you alive had you left your golden walls.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄-𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 , plucked from amongst the carcasses of felled lions . she begins by chipping away at the self-conception he has so long donned as an impenetrable armour / she begins by setting ablaze the sanctuary he has created for himself , within which he hides away from intrusive insecurities / she begins by destroying the only thing he has ever owned : power . ( joffrey’s kingdom is over , and sansa will wear his crown . ) she’s killing me , the horror dawns on himasher onslaught of words throttle his tongue and his lungs and his heart . she’s killing me right here , where the entire court can watch me die !
––––––––––––––the bough breaks .
❛ you’re lying . you’re lying , you miserable churl ! you wretchedbitch! ❜ he does not shout as a man wronged , demanding justice from the blackened heavens of an unforgiving god . no . he screams and moans and howls , gripped by a feverish ilk that turns his cheeks red as wine . ( joffrey is not rage . he is a child pretending at anger and plagued by fear . ) he lunges forward , reaching out with chained hands and fingers curled like raptorial claws . there are tears pooling before his eyes , and through them he sees sansa not as a woman but as a beast ––– a queen with the head of a wolf , her frothing maw open / her glittering eyes alight with hellfire .
the guards are too quick . pain explodes from the back of his skull ; he crumples to the ground , heaving upon his hands and knees . the tears spill from their barrier of finespun gold , scorching and blistering his skin / settling upon wind-cracked lips . joffrey coughs , reeling unsteadily . blood seeps slowly from the wound on his head , but he cannot see it . it isn’t real . ( what can be real , when sansa has crushed all that he holds to be true beneath her callous heel ? ) he looks up , strands of hair plastered to the sweat upon his brow / to the salt upon his skin . for a moment , calm befalls the throne room . within a second , the snivelling starts once more . ❛ i will tear you apart ! you can’t kill me , sansa . i made you ! ❜
