* π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY) header
* π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY) profile picture

mother && queen. #HOTDrp β€˜ PARODY. β€˜

MDNI.
Joined October 2022
Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)Photo by * π‡πˆπ†π‡π“πŽπ–π„π‘. κ™³ * κ™³ (@GREENDECAY)
WHERE IS πƒπ”π“π˜? WHERE IS π’π€π‚π‘πˆπ…πˆπ‚π„? && she is a pawn and the puppeteer, both. Beware the rose with thorns. tags: #mvrp, #asoiafrp, #gotrp, #HOTDrp. teapawt.net/i/events/1581969007854…
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The little π›πšπ¬π­πšπ«ππ¬ weave a war that they cannot win, and it makes her heart ache for their sweet mother. A hidden 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 still remains for the once heir.
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❝My, oh my. And my son is so vile to say you’ve been tamed?❞ a scoff, sudden && harsh. ❝Ah, but I would expect nothing less from Daemon’s daughter. Beware the consequences, sweetling. The Blacks may be able to accomodate your fancyβ€”we will not.❞
❝you’d threaten me?❞ her fury is a vile thing, a snake twisting around limbs and squeezing. Fingers ball up into fists, before a silver of a fork is stolen from the tableβ€”before it slams into the wood with a harsh thump. }
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Frustration blooms in fidgeting, bleeding handsβ€”soon to be drenched with scalding tea. She shields her pain well, gaze flicking up to Baela before she smiles with disdain. ❝I dare say you are far worse than your father. Would you like to give birth to the babe in chains?❞
her flames will never be drenched with rivers of life, this is the moment to fight. Careless hands swipe across the table before alicent, to knock a porcelain teacup in her lap. she hopes the tea burns. ❝do not mock me, alicent.❞
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Such 𝐛𝐨π₯𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 sung by a foolish girl who is 𝘀𝘩𝘒π˜ͺ𝘯𝘦π˜₯ by new blood to the Greens. She does not envy the sweet girl.
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To be a mother, is to be a beast in itself. Bits of her heart has been throttled, sliced apart and feasted on by her children born of her body and soul. Her heart was never hers, in a world so wrong. There was never to be a queen of a heartβ€”vile jealously remaining.
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She fed her dreaming daughter the poison of dutyβ€”with demands to seek not love, but power’s embrace in a family. Guileless daughter, the dreaded brother you marriedβ€”it is duty. The Queen Mother will avert her gaze, of treasonous grasp of another brother upon an elder sister.
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&& he best stay his tongue. The girl is good, kind and * 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 π‡πŽππ„π˜. Her daughter is not deserving of such horrid, venomous bile spewed from another monster entirely.
Helaena is quite the disappointment, is she not? Lunacy does not hide well. It would appear, madness won with such a comely girl.
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// 🫢
A SOLO. Β·γ€€γ€€ * γ€€ γ€€ . γ€€ Β· . * π’πŽπ‹πŽ: 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 πƒπ‘π„π€πŒπ’. ☽ cw: incest, gore, knifeplay, bugs, misogyny, implied suicide and nsfw. Women hold holy light, cradled in the sinew of a +
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Tiredness soaks her bones in its heaviness. A husband lostβ€”love not returned, she’ll rest on this day made of adoration.
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The people will 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐋. What has she done for the seven kingdoms but birth bastards, NAMELESS?
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She raised her children on poison. Vile toxicity, she fed them while calling it π₯𝐨𝐯𝐞. && it was love. Her love is different, for a girl labouring for the flesh and blood of her soulβ€”at a young, comely age. She did not know how to bid a child to latch, to feed.
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&& it would seem that her stepdaughter once again, yearns to defy her father’s wishes. The crown, as heavy as it is, does not belong to either of themβ€”but to the sweetness of her dreaded son.
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Oh sweetlings. Alicent is here, with hands scheming && the sweetest smile worn.
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Mothers are beasts, forged from the disease within: the heart rotting out from love for a child.
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