#victor velaryon

[thevelaryons]

I love how GRRM always positions various Velaryon brothers as having a close bond with each other. Although not much is known about some of the sibling dynamics in the family, when GRRM chooses to write about them, it is with a sense of brotherhood and unity.

Even in such instances where the relationship is only implied in the text, it is as a positive one. Aurane is a bastard and yet he integrates himself amongst the highborn without any issue, suggesting a somewhat polished upbringing in a castle. He also served in the Velaryon fleet, led by his trueborn half-brother Lord of Driftmark, Monford. It's mentioned in the books that bastard children are usually kept away from the family because they are viewed as a source of shame. It is considered very unusual for a bastard to be raised in a castle with their trueborn family (re: Jon Snow). But that could certainly be the case with the Bastard of Driftmark. His moniker does suggest a close association with house Velaryon which means he was not a bastard that was hidden away. Especially when you consider that Aurane, despite being very treacherous and self-serving, never once does anything against his brother's family. When he sets his sight on a castle he wants to claim, it is not Driftmark, but another castle. He sails his powerful fleet past Driftmark thrice and makes no move to attack the seat governed by his late brother’s son even though house Velaryon is in service to the rebel Stannis and Aurane is trying to ingratiate himself with the Lannister regime. Despite the commonly held belief that bastards will seek to harm their trueborn siblings, Aurane is not once shown acting against Monford or his remaining family at Driftmark. All his treachery is reserved for the Lannisters, who are more or less responsible for Monford’s death at the Battle of the Blackwater.

Addam & Alyn's relationship is a prime example of Velaryon brotherhood. Although the narrative presents their identity arcs as Velaryons differently (in relation to their parents), it’s done so in a manner that still connects the brothers to each other. Alyn’s actions are often framed in the text as a "what would Addam do in this situation?" way. They participate in the Red Sowing together and they clearly remained close enough to each other for the duration that Addam was quickly able to save Alyn's life. They get physically separated afterwards only because Alyn is bedbound from his burns. Alyn openly laughs in the face of a King who calls him brother and says that a "brother by blood" is the only true form of brotherhood. Years after Addam's death, Alyn still honors his brother with a touching memorial.

There are several instances of brotherly love shown between Jace/Luke/Joff as well. From defending each other from a bully to all three echoing each other in upholding their mother's claim, they are always in sync. The loss of a brother is expressed openly and the desire for vengeance too.

The more minor instances of brotherhood in the family further showcase this.

Sometimes it's as simple as hanging out together to serve as royal escorts:

Though Daemon Velaryon, as the Crown’s lord admiral and master of ships, was in King’s Landing with the regents, that did not prevent Jaehaerys and Alysanne from flying their dragons to Driftmark and touring his shipyards, escorted by his sons, Corwyn, Jorgen, and Victor.

Other times it's plotting together. The Silent Five may be committing treason, but they do that as a united front:

When they took their case before the sick and failing Viserys, they made the grievous mistake of questioning the legitimacy of his daughter’s children. Viserys had their tongues removed for this insolence, though he let them keep their heads.

.

Three of the “silent five” had died during the Dance, fighting for Aegon II against Rhaenyra…but two survived.

[...]

“Lacking tongues with which to make their appeal, they preferred to argue with swords,” says Mushroom. However, the plot to murder their young lord went awry when the guards at Castle Driftmark proved loyal to the Sea Snake’s memory and his chosen heir. Ser Malentine was slain during the attempt; his brother captured.

The Velaryon brothers who act within the law are also depicted taking action together each time. Interesting how it's not specified which of the two wishes to claim Driftmark for himself, over the other. They are partners in all that they do and that's all that matters:

All came forward now, insisting that they had more right to Driftmark than “this bastard of Hull, whose mother was a mouse.” Ser Vaemond’s sons Daemion and Daeron took their claim to the council in King’s Landing. When the Hand and the regents ruled against them, they wisely chose to accept the decision and be reconciled with Lord Alyn.

I just think it’s neat that regardless of the circumstances of the characters’ upbringing, whether trueborn or bastard, there’s a supportive bond between Velaryon brothers each time.

[chloe-petrichors]

seething, blooming // jace x reader

your father has always been something of an opportunist, but trying to marry you off to the blacks while he courts the greens? this is taking playing the game to a whole new level.

the rose discovers she is an instrument of war. —victor hugo.

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!tyrell!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon au (set after aegon takes the crown but before luke's death bc luke will never die in my eyes), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s), arranged marriage, mention parental death/death in childbed (reader's mother), love at first sight vibes, jace is a flirtatious little shit with his betrothed, tooth rotting fluff, love confessions. word count; 6k+ notes; one day i might write for another man. but that day is not today. jace velaryon u have my heart. i'm not majorly pleased w this fic but it's given me enough trouble and it's as good as it's gonna get! this was longer originally, and was meant to be a bit more political at first hence the blurb/quote choice, but i haaated some of the scenes so ended up scrapping 'em. she's not as long as predicted as a result but still an ok length i think. some of the scenes i scrapped were tragically the smut ones, so have this fairly pg one-shot with the promise of the smut-shot sitting in my drafts coming ur way soon. fair warning that the scrapping of scenes has fudged with the pacing a bit but honestly i can't take this fic sitting in my drafts any longer so here u go!! i have a taglist now, mostly cos eldrith keeps telling me i have to tag her in everything, so lmk if you'd like to be added to it! requests; are open !

the rising sun paints highgarden in shades of pink and gold.

you stand upon your balcony, finger curled loosely over the pale marble as you stare distantly out over the rolling green fields and blooming gardens. the faint bubbling of the river mander in the distance adds to the peaceful morning, the early wash of sunlight coaxing the sleeping world into life. a cool breeze carries the sweet smell of roses and you take a steadying breath, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your face up to the sun.

it's a morning that starts like many others. you’ve always risen from bed early, the slow blooming of morning stirring you from slumber more often than not. birds chirp and bees buzz and the river flows and you rise with it, like part of you calls to the breaking dawn.

if not for the thick sheaf of parchment discarded on your father’s desk, it could be a morning like any other. but the parchment is there, and this day will be like no other before it.

today, a dragon is expected at highgarden.

a targaryen has not stepped foot in the reach since before you were born. you don’t think even the princess rhaenyra – queen, now, according to some – had come this far on her marriage tour years ago. but your father has taken it upon himself to invite a prince to your home.

you love your father deeply, but in this you think he must be a fool. as lord paramount of the reach he is, in theory, the power of this kingdom. but anyone with a lick of sense knows that it’s the hightowers that the people look to; oldtown is home to the starry sept, the citadel and, perhaps more importantly, the dowager queen’s family line.

the tyrells have only been in power for a few generations, and people’s memories are long. too many know the truth of how house tyrell had been only a steward when the gardener kings had ruled before the conquest. and so too many see tyrell as a house grasping for power that should be beyond their fingers, and your father is apparently determined to prove them all right.

he’s been careful about his neutrality as war threatens to break out between the targaryen kin, brother and sister both claiming their right to the throne and the realm splitting down the middle. your father has not officially allied with either side, walking a careful tightrope to appease both. up until now you had assumed he sided more with the greens, but he’d sent your assumptions crumbling with only a few sheets of parchment.

your father has always been too ambitious for his own good.

gods, how you miss your mother. when she’d been alive, she’d tempered the worst of your father’s foolishness. she’d been a stark before she’d married, steadfast and sensible in the face of your father’s folly. she’d been a woman unlike any other you’ve known; ferocious and a little wild, but with a good heart and a warm smile for any she’d met.

she’d taught you how to be a lady, but so much more than that – she’d taught you to know your own mind. to know when to mind your tongue and when to speak, how to grow your roots so deep you will always stand tall, flourishing and growing like the most determined of flowers. she’d taught you a little of that northern ice, too, reminding you oft that for as much as you were a rose of highgarden you were equally a wolf of the north, and the wolf’s blood has always run thick in your veins. 

she’d called you her little winter rose; delicate and steely and a rare bloom, indeed. she had loved you so fiercely you’d flourished with her tender care, just as the patch of winter roses she’d brought from the glass gardens of winterfell had bloomed ‘neath her careful ministrations. a piece of the north she’d brought south with her, a tiny bit of her home that she’d cradled and cared for until the day you’d lost her to the birthing bed.

your little brother is nearing six, now, and many moons have passed since the sudden grief of your mother had overwhelmed you. but, in recent days you have ached with her loss more often, wondering what she would think of your father’s plans, what she would say to soothe your storm of anxiety. with your looming marriage you find yourself missing your mother acutely, the grief a reopened wound in your chest.

because you are a betrothed woman, now, to be married to a stranger, a prince who is sure to be fighting a war against his kin in the moons to come.

the velaryon prince arrives on dragon back as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.

he dismounts his winged steed in an empty stretch of land a distance from the keep itself, and your father greets him there with a host of staff to accompany him back to the entrance courtyard.

your brother leo bounces in place beside you where you stand with the rest of the household in the courtyard, fairly vibrating with energy at the prospect of seeing a real-life dragon. since the news of the prince’s arrival was announced a sennight ago, leo has done little else but babble about dragons and magic and targaryens. you wish you could share his excitement, his sheer uncomplicated joy, but this visit comes with too many conflicting emotions for you to enjoy it at all.

you’ve always known you would not marry for love. you are the eldest child and only daughter of the lord of the reach – love has never been a factor you could afford to consider. you would do your duty and marry for your house, to seal whatever alliance your father deemed important enough. you’d resigned yourself to this fate as a young girl when your mother had told you in slow, halting words the fear she had felt coming south to marry your father.

but you’d not expected to marry a total stranger. you’d thought your father would at least do you the courtesy of allowing you to meet a suitor before betrothing you to them, but in his feverish ambition to sit his blood on the iron throne he’d promised you to a man you’ve never laid eyes upon.

you don’t want to be queen.

frankly, you think yourself a touch unsuited for it. your father has many times bemoaned your wildness, the wolfs blood that drives you to stubborn recklessness. though you’ve mellowed a little with age and experience, you think you’re still a bit too prone to chaos to be queen of the seven kingdoms one day. never mind the complexities added by the fact that queen rhaenyra’s claim is so fiercely contested, and her half-brother is the one currently physically sitting the iron throne.

thinking about the mess you’re marrying into too much makes your head ache, and the blazing noon sun does little to ease it. leo beside you continues to whisper rapidly about everything he knows about dragons, which is actually quite a lot considering his young age. you think absently you might need to have a word with the maester’s again; leo has wrapped most of the household around his finger, and the elderly maester is prone to indulging your brother when he fixates on a new topic of interest instead of sticking to his lessons.

the sound of hooves on cobble stones startles you from your meandering thoughts, and you straighten your spine as your eyes take in the unfamiliar man riding into the courtyard beside your father while your brother finally falls silent.

he’s handsome, at least; a tumble of dark curls brushing his shoulders, a sharp jaw and a strong nose. though you like to think yourself more than superficial, it eases at least some of your worries to know the prince is attractive to you. your mother had done you the courtesy of explaining what was expected of you on your wedding night after your first moons blood, and in secret since you’d perused the library for books detailing more lustful acts in an effort to satiate your unending curiosity.

you’re worried enough about completing your wifely duties without having to worry about finding the man lying with you repulsive, and so you allow yourself a few moments of relief at his pretty face.

your father dismounts first, gesturing for you to step forward as the prince gets down from his own horse. leo moves forward with you, eyes wide and shining with something akin to hero worship as he gazes at jacaerys. you have a wry thought that perhaps he should marry him since he is so clearly already enamoured, but you brush that aside as your father and the prince approach.

“i am most pleased to introduce my daughter, your grace, as well as my son and heir, leo,” your father says as they reach you, his satisfaction in his successful planning clear as he smiles smugly.

you dip into a perfect curtsey as leo bows a touch clumsily at your side. as heir it would traditionally be leo’s job to greet the prince, but when you send him a sidelong glance you see he is too busy making moon eyes at the darkhaired man to say anything, and so you take it upon yourself to speak.

“welcome to highgarden, my prince. we are honoured to host you,” you greet, finally meeting jacaerys’s eyes. they’re a warm amber shade, the noon sun turning them to liquid honey as he looks at you, and you feel your cheeks flush with the appreciation you can see in his gaze as he drinks you in. it seems he does not find you repulsive either, at least.

he sketches a quick bow, eyes never leaving yours, and you feel your heart start to race in your chest at his attention. “it is an honour to be here, my lady, and to finally make your acquaintance.” he smiles at you then, small and a little crooked but there, and your flush deepens. “i look forward to getting to know you better in the coming days.”

you swallow, hoping your budding attraction is not as obvious as you fear it is. your father is looking increasingly smug as he watches the interaction, though it seems to war with some paternal annoyance as jacaerys lightly flirts with you.

“and i you,” you return softly, a smile quirking on your lips.

“—can i meet your dragon?” leo bursts out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer, and jacaerys blinks down at him in surprise as you resist the urge to press your palm to your face.

“leo,” you scold immediately as your father chortles at his heir’s enthusiasm for dragons. “the prince has had a long journey. you should give him a chance to settle in before demanding anything of him.”

“right you are, my dear.” your father waves to the household steward before turning to the prince. “alyn will show you to your rooms, your grace, so that you might freshen up, and then we have a feast prepared for this evening to welcome you to highgarden.”

jacaerys nods easily as the greeting crowd begins to disperse, the maester corralling leo to take him for his lessons with fond exasperation even as the boy loudly protests. you mean to go walk the gardens, and so you stay standing in place as the prince trails after your father and steward alyn.

he pauses beside you, though, a slight smile on his face as you look up at him questioningly. your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his face, and it takes a moment for you to process his words. “i look forward to speaking to you further at the feast, my lady.”

you smile back at him, cheeks flushing once again as his eyes linger on your mouth for a breathless moment. “i shall save you a dance, my prince,” you return a touch coyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“only one dance?” he teases, eyebrow arching.

you hum, head tilting to the side in mock consideration as something like satisfaction gleams in jacaerys’s eyes. “i shall have to use the first dance to judge your dancing skills, your grace, before i risk promising you another.”

he laughs then, a little surprised but no doubt pleased as his eyes crinkle with his wide smile. “then i shall do my best to meet your standards, my lady.” he dips into a quick bow of farewell, then, as you finally take note of your father lingering on the steps to the keep with raised eyebrows.

“we shall see,” you return as you curtsey.

you allow yourself a moment to watch his retreating back, eyes dragging over the strong line of his shoulders before you internally shake yourself and head to the gardens, thoughts swimming with honey brown eyes and tanned, freckled skin and a slow dawning certainty that while this betrothal may be unexpected, you doubt it will leave you unsatisfied.

the feast is in full swing by the time the prince arrives at the hall.

the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune as couples twirl on the dance floor. you sit at the head table with leo and your father, watching with a careful eye as your brother cuts up his food. he’s only just mastered the art of eating his food without spilling half if it down his doublet, but as distracted as he is by the festivities and the prospect of seeing a dragon close up, you worry he’s at risk of making a mess of himself regardless.

so absorbed in your task you are, it takes a long moment for you to realise jacaerys has arrived. it’s only when your skin prickles with awareness that you look up from leo and catch sight of the prince winding his way across the floor to the head table, eyes fixed on you. your head tilts to the side slightly as you watch him move, graceful and controlled, through the crowd.

he’s in black and red again, just as he had been when he’d arrived. it seems your father had been right when he’d stated that jacaerys favours his mother’s house colours. you smooth your hand over the skirts of your dress, the deep wine-red of the material feeling less out of place now, before standing with your father to greet the prince.

you all exchange pleasantries quickly as the noise in the hall dims, people realising the prince has arrived. your father ushers jacaerys into the empty seat between you and your father as he raises his goblet to the hall before speaking in his booming voice.

you don’t pay attention to your father’s speech, too aware of the warmth radiating from jacaerys who stands only inches from you to focus. you risk a glance at him from the corner of your eyes only to find his dark honey eyes fixed on you, and you cannot help but smile to yourself even as you flush, turning your eyes back to the crowd.

rousing applause and cheers draw you back to the moment, and you catch yourself in time to raise your wine in toast with your father. you go to sit back down as the crowd returns to its revelries, but the soft brush of a hand on your arm halts your movement. you turn expectingly to the prince, a soft smile on your lips.

“yes, your grace?”

“would you do me the honour of a dance, my lady?”

your lips quirk into a sly smile even as you bob your head in a nod. “i suppose i did promise you one, did i not?”

“that you did, my lady, and i have thought of nothing else since.” dark honey eyes sparkle with mirth as he offers you his hand, and with a quiet giggle you take it and allow him to lead you to the dance floor.

you feel the heat of his hand on your waist like a brand even through the layers of your dress, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. you inhale deeply in an effort to steady yourself as you rest your palm on his strong shoulder, and are immediately overwhelmed by the woodsy scent of him as he claps your hand in his and begins to dance.

you start the dance in comfortable silence, both of you taking a few moments to get a feel for the other and settle into the steps, and when you feel comfortable enough you speak.

“how are you finding highgarden, prince jacaerys?”

“jace, please,” he entreats, and elaborates only when you blink at him in confusion. “my friends and family call me jace, not jacaerys. we are to be married, my lady. it would please me a great deal for my future wife to refer to me as such.”

you nod in acceptance, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his eager expression. “jace it is, then,” you say, and try not to feel the way your heart flutters at his radiant smile in response. “although you have not answered my question. how are you finding highgarden?”

he hums, twirling you as the dance requires and then pulling you closer before responding. “your father has been very hospitable, and it is certainly beautiful here. the grounds especially, though i’m afraid i’ve not had the opportunity to see much of them as yet.”

“a shame we shall have to rectify, i think.” you offer him a small smile as you press just an inch closer, finding yourself wanting to be nearer him. “perhaps i could show you the gardens on the morrow?”

“yes,” he agrees a touch too quickly, and you giggle as his cheeks turn pink. “that is to say— i should like that very much, my lady. very much indeed.”

you lapse into silence once more as the dance reaches its crescendo, and you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of his hands as the music pauses while the minstrels ready their next song.

jace seems to share the sentiment, it seems, as his eyes linger on your entwined hands for a long moment before returning to your face. “have i met your standards enough for another dance, then?”

you take a moment to pretend to consider it, eyes narrowing slightly as you hum. he shuffles on his feet as he waits for your response, and you find the nervous motion far too endearing.

“i suppose so,” you concede after a moment, grinning at his smugly pleased smile as he tugs you closer.

“and what about the dance after that?” he asks lightly, something cheeky in his eyes as the music starts up again and he sweeps you along the floor.

“you should not press your luck, jace,” you say imperiously, although the effect is rather ruined by the silly smile on your face as he laughs with you.

jacaerys smirks. “my lady, since meeting you, i have felt nothing but a lucky man.”

you smother a snort, shaking your head at his unrepentant expression. “you are incorrigible.” it comes out a touch exasperated and yet far too fond.

“yes,” the prince agrees readily, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “but i think you rather enjoy it.”

your startled laugh is loud, though thankfully not so loud as to be heard over the minstrels. “perhaps.”

after that, the night is lost to flirtatious banter and dance after dance in your betrothed’s arms as a seed of affection is planted deep in your heart. and when you wake in the morning after dreaming of nothing but jace’s lips and eyes and words, you can think only one thought;

gods, i am in so much trouble.

time passes in a slow trickle of syrupy summer heat.

as the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in jace’s company. you’re always chaperoned, of course, a household guard following at a respectful distance wherever the two of you choose to roam. you find the whole thing a touch ridiculous; jace is to be your husband. it’s hardly like spending time together alone would be a significant scandal in light of your impending marriage, but your father insists there will be no doubts about your honour before the marriage actually takes place and so ser dickon is assigned as your reluctant shadow.

the date of the wedding itself remains unset as you and jace start to know one another. your father wishes for the marriage to wait until the war is done – a last-ditch chance to keep his options open, perhaps. Or, if you are feeling generous, a way to try and keep you safe from the greens when war inevitably rages. jace’s mother wishes the marriage to happen as soon as can be arranged – a way to try and ensure further heirs with the uncertainty of war looming, you assume.

you find yourself hoping the queen’s will wins the day as time creeps on. jace becomes ever dearer to you the more you learn about him, and soon you think of your impending marriage with nothing but hope and warm desire.

because oh, how you want him. from the first moment you’d laid eyes upon him you’d been attracted to him, but the more you get to know him, the more your heart opens to him – the more you ache for him. for his mouth on yours, his fingertips on your skin, his voice in your ear. if you were a less reckless woman, a little less shameless, you’d be embarrassed of how easily you think of him in your moments apart.

but late at night when the candles burn low and you are alone in your bed, there is no shame to be found, only the wildness of your wolfs blood and liquid heat as your hand drifts between your legs and you find completion with your betrothed’s name on your lips.

beyond the desire, though, is a slow blooming affection. it feels like every time you learn something new about him or share a new experience together, another petal of tenderness unfurls in your chest. when your father had first told you about your betrothal, you’d not dared to hope for more than civility with your husband-to-be, but now you find yourself harbouring deep fondness on top of steadily burning desire, and you look to your future as his wife with little else but excitement.

you’re not sure if jace feels the same. you don’t doubt he desires you; his flirtation and the weight of his gaze on your form is too frequent a thing for you to think otherwise. but desire is not the same as affection, and though you hope desperately that the way he always seeks your presence whenever he steps into a room means what you want it to mean, you can’t be sure.

after a week passes, you both start to chafe at the relentless presence of ser dickon. it feels like every time you so much as think about inching closer to jacaerys, ser dickon is there with his stern glare of disapproval. and so, when one morning jace suggests taking you to meet his dragon, alone, you are quick to agree.

you leave your guard long behind at jace’s instruction; he doesn’t want vermax crowded with strangers, he explains, but you personally think he seems a little too gleeful at the idea of being alone with you for that to be sole reason behind his insistence ser dickon stays far away. you don’t say anything since you’re equally pleased to finally be spending some time with your betrothed without feeling others curious eyes on you.

your excitement starts to waver, however, as you and jace get closer to his dragon. you’ve only seen vermax from a distance before this, and though it perhaps shouldn’t the size of him startles you. he’s just so large and fierce looking, the sharp spines on his back catching your eye. the beast yawns as you slow to a stop, jace sending you a quick smile before he continues on to greet his dragon with fondness, and the glimpse into vermax’s open maw – gods, there as so many teeth – has your palms starting to sweat.

jace stands beside his dragon, murmuring soothing words in high valyrian that you don’t understand as his hand smooths along his snout. your heart races in your chest, nerves making your hands shake when faced with this great beast. you curse your reckless curiosity, your northern stubbornness that makes it impossible for you to refuse a challenge. you have no idea how jace can look so at ease, the line of his shoulders relaxed and the slightest smile on his face as he talks to his winged steed, but there he stands.

“you can come closer now.” he turns to you, brown eyes shining with excitement and, yes, a hint of challenge.

he expects you to back out, you think, and that realisation has you straightening your spine and pressing your lips together. you twist your fingers in your skirts to hide the way they tremble as you step cautiously forward, eyes darting from jace to vermax and back. when you’re within touching distance of the velaryon prince, he reaches for your hand. the shock of his bare skin against yours arrests you for a moment, the slide of calloused fingers around your wrist startling in how easily it sparks desire in you.

you’re so distracted by the feel of him that you don’t realise until it’s too late that jace has tugged you closer, guiding your hand until it’s pressed to vermax’s scales, and then you’re too busy being surprised by how soft they feel to be annoyed that he’s so easily coaxed you into this position.

you still as the dragon rumbles, swallowing thickly as your fingers twitch against green scales. he blinks lazily at you, an alien intellect gleaming there as he seems to consider you for a long moment, and as you blink back at him some of the fear in your chest shakes loose.

because this is not just some beast, you realise. this is fire and blood and magic made flesh. there is life and intelligence in vermax’s eyes, not one you recognise but one you immediately respect. being this close to the dragon is a heady rush of awe and adrenaline; the knowledge that vermax could so easily harm you at any moment but is choosing not to because he trusts his rider. it’s staggering and wonderful and beside you jace is beaming, eyes shining with happiness at seeing you greet his draconic companion, and you are helplessly, hopelessly, wholly overwhelmed by your affection, your desire, by jace.

you kiss him.

it’s barely a kiss, more a breathless press of your mouth against his, and he startles at the sensation even as his arm loops around your waist. you break apart for the barest moment, nose sliding against his as you tilt your head, and jacaerys sighs out your name with heavy relief before he captures your mouth once more.

you’ve been kissed before, so you know the mechanics of it, but it’s never been like this. his lips move smoothly against yours as his hand flexes on your waist, drawing you closer until your chest is pressed against his. your hand tangles in his hair, fingers twisting in the soft curls and he moans with it, hand dragging up your back to cradle the back of your head tenderly as his tongue sweeps over your lips.

the gentle pressure of it has you gasping and he takes the opportunity immediately, tongue sliding against yours as heat pools in your core. your thoughts tumble wildly, incoherent as you can think of nothing but of how desperately you want more. the taste – the smell – the feel of him is drowning everything out that isn’t jace and you cannot resist it, do not even want to.

you want to kiss him forever, want his hand in your hair and his tongue in your mouth for always. you think he might even let you with how relentless he is, barely giving you a moments pause to catch your breath before consuming you in another desperate kiss.

you finally part only when vermax grumbles, cheeks blazing with heat as you step out of jace’s arms. jace murmurs lowly to his dragon in valyrian, and he nudges his great snout against jace’s shoulder in response before stepping away and curling down into the long grass to sleep. you take the moment to properly catch your breath again, hand pressing to your heaving chest in an effort to soothe your racing heart.

when you peek up at jace from beneath your lashes, you flush deeply at the sight of him. his curls are a mess, his lips swollen and cheeks pink beneath his tan. he looks almost debauched, and it sends a rush of desire through you. you suddenly can think of nothing other than him looking like this only flusher and skin glistening with sweat and in your bed.

the thought startles you into dropping your gaze to your feet, and you shuffle uncertainly. you feel – unsettled. you don’t think there’s anything wrong with sharing a kiss with your betrothed, and yet something like guilt curdles in your stomach as you worry at your bottom lip. you had kissed him. for all that he’d kissed you back, you worry that now he will think differently of you. think worse of you.

a knuckle tucks under your chin, then, lifting your face so that you meet jace’s eyes. you feel small and strangely vulnerable in the aftermath of your kiss, like you have somehow shown him something you never intended to, and the urge to shy away remains. but you are not a winter rose for nothing and so you tuck the doubt away as jace runs his thumb soothingly along the line of your jaw.

“i have been thinking of doing that since the moment you first smiled at me,” he confesses, a hint of shyness in the quirk of his lips even as he stares steadily into your eyes.

“oh.” you blink at him once in surprise, the uneasiness in you finally settling at the fondness in his gaze. “oh. that’s— good.” you curse yourself for your lack of wit in this moment as jace snickers.  “i-i mean, i’m glad that it was not… unwelcome.”

your betrothed looks at you with deep affection, then, cupping your cheek and ducking down to press a fleeting, butterfly-soft kiss to your mouth before reluctantly parting from you. “it was most welcome, my lady. most welcome, indeed.” his eyes sparkle with mirth. “i find myself looking forward to the next time you greet vermax, if this is the kind of response such a thing garners.”

“jace!” you narrow your eyes at him in pretend annoyance, even as you smother a giggle with your fingers. “you should not expect me to indulge in such desires again, then, if you persist in being so smug about it.”

his laugh warms you as the two of you fall into easy banter, leaving vermax to his rest and returning to the ever-watchful ser dickon, and all the while all you can think of is how much you cannot wait to kiss him again.

as the air cools with the dying light of day, you lead jace to the gardens.

in the week since your first kiss, jace has oft tugged you into shadowy corners for more kisses any chance he’s had. his desire for you is matched only by your own for him, and as your confidence in your mutual attraction has grown, you have been equally as likely to pull him into a dark alcove to trade sweet words and sweet kisses in secret.

it’s thrilling and exciting and wonderful, but as the week passes you find a growing doubt whispering in the back of your mind.

while you cannot doubt jace desires you, not when he is so relentless in chasing after your smiling mouth, neither of you breathe a word of any feeling between you beyond attraction. perhaps it is reckless of you, foolhardy to fall for him so quickly – but then you are your parent’s daughter, all wolfs blood and deep roots, and you know no other way of being than this.

so you take him to the gardens as the moon rises in the sky, sneak past the night guards and out into the fresh air. you guide him through the blooming flowers and swaying trees, stopping along the while when the fancy takes one of you to stop and examine an interesting bloom or inhale a sweet scent. at least three times he stops you to slot his mouth against yours, to swallow your breathless giggling with feverish kisses, and each time he does it takes longer and longer for you to disentangle yourselves from each other.

eventually, with swollen lips and mussed hair, the two of you reach the winter roses. your effervescent mood becomes sombre as the moon shines on the blue flowers, turning the petals almost silver, and jace seems to recognise the change in atmosphere, a seriousness overtaking him as he watches you approach the flowers.

“my mother planted the first of these roses,” you tell jace as you kneel at the edge of the flowerbed, uncaring of the risk of dirt on your dress as you brush fingers over the pale blue petals tenderly. “winter roses, they are, from the north. from winterfell. she was born a stark, you see, and when she was betrothed to my father the only thing she asked was to be able to bring a few blooms from the glass gardens. she used to call me her little winter rose when i was a child, and she would bring me here and show me how to tend to them.”

jace kneels beside you, glancing at the side of your face before turning to look curiously at the blue flowers. “they’re beautiful,” he tells you sincerely.

“i’ve always thought so, too,” you agree almost absently, stroking the petals in an effort to calm your racing heart. “everyone told my mother she’d never be able to get them to grow so far south. they’re very rare, you see, and need very particular conditions.” your lips quirk up into a fond smile. “but my mother, for all that she became a tyrell, was always a stark at heart. stubborn, you know. and now look at them, thriving.”

you gesture out at the carefully tended rows of roses. “nobody else comes here, now, other than the gardeners and me. i think… i think my father finds it too hard, being here. it makes him miss her too much. so i come here when i need to be alone. or when i wish to be reminded of her. it's the one place in the world where i feel i can be wholly myself, without any pretence or worry.”

jace’s gaze is fixed on you, now, eyes almost black in the faint moonlight as understanding dawns on him. “thank you for bringing me here.”

you nod once, climbing back to your feet, and jace follows you. he watches you so intently, like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he dares to look away. you feel a little like you might, feel tenuous and vulnerable and a breath away from cracking your chest open.

“i’ve never brought anyone else here,” you confess quietly, flexing your fingers with nerves as jace’s lips part in surprise. “i wished… i wished to share this with you. to share who i am, myself, with you, i suppose.” you laugh a little self-deprecatingly. “however pretentious that sounds.”

“it doesn’t,” jace denies immediately. you sense he wants to say more, but he seems to understand that you’re building to saying something yourself, and so he stays quiet, expression earnest and open and fond as he gazes down at you.

“i know it’s perhaps too soon – we have only known each other a few weeks. but i… when i first found out we were betrothed, i was so scared. i worried you would be some arrogant princeling, and i dared not hope for anything more than civility between us. i’ve always known i would not marry for love, but i did not ever consider i would marry a man i had never met.”

you pause for long enough to suck in a breath, feeling a little like the floodgates have opened and you simply can’t stop speaking, can’t stop the feeling pouring freely from you. “and then i met you, and you were so unlike anything i’d expected. i know we still have so much more to learn about each other, and i know that things are— complicated, with the war, and that our marriage may be a ways off yet, but still— i find myself feeling for you, and i cannot hide it anymore. i don’t wish to hide it from you anymore.”

you let the open affection in his face buoy you as you steel yourself, pressing your shoulders back in a mimicry of confidence. “i wanted to show you this part of me, this place, because i….” you hesitate for a breathless moment, biting your lip, before gathering every scrap of courage you possess and diving in headfirst. “i am falling in love with you, jacaerys.”

you inhale the sweet scent of the pale blue petals deeply, let the familiar scent soothe you as jace stares at you with wide eyes. the winter roses are something that, until now, have been so uniquely yours. as you’d told jace, none other than you and the gardeners comes to this corner of the gardens now. the staff that tend so carefully to the flowers know to leave you well enough alone if they stumble across you, skirts splayed on the ground and fingers diligently caring for the roses. you’ve never even brought your sweet little brother, though you can admit that’s for practicality as much as anything else – his childish energy is a bit too boisterous for these delicate blooms.

bringing jace here, bringing him here to confess the deepening affection you harbour for him, feels raw. feels like you’re tearing your heart out of your chest and offering it up to him for perusal, hands bloody and soul bare. feels like saying ‘this is all that i am and all that i have been and all i will ever be and i hope, i hope, i hope it’s enough.’

jace finally, finally speaks, sighs your name, soft and sweet and tender, and hope blooms in your chest.

“oh, my sweet lady,” he murmurs, crowding into your space as he cups your cheek, and the smell of woodsmoke and dragon and jace floods your senses. “i am falling so unbelievably in love with you. only, it does not feel so much like falling as it is like choosing it, like walking into love with you with my eyes wide open and seeing nothing but you.”

it's almost unbearable, the blazing heat of his gaze as he presses his forehead against yours, and it makes you tremble as your hands clutch as his elbows in an effort to ground yourself to this moment, to him. “our betrothal was decided for us without care or consideration for our own desires,” he says, lips brushing against your own with every whispered word. “i know that as well as you, but i need you to know that if i had the choice i would choose this. i would choose you, your stubborn heart, your fierce spirit, your gracious soul.”

his hand slides from your cheek to your hair, holds you so tenderly like you are something precious, and it steals your breath from your lungs as you revel in his unbridled affection. “i care not when we marry, if we marry, in truth, because in my heart you are already mine just as i am already yours.”

he kisses you, then, a desperate and greedy thing, as if he can no longer restrain himself from devouring you whole. and you are just as needy, hands fisting in his doublet as you press yourself against him and somehow finding yourself wishing to be closer still. the world narrows down to him and him only; his mouth, his hands, his hair. you can think of nothing else, and do not wish to, because in this moment you are wholly yourself and he is wholly himself and it’s enough, it’s wonderful and delicate and it’s enough.

and, there beneath the moonlight and amongst the winter roses, deep and enduring affection, the kind of love the bards sing songs about, takes root.

taglist; @eldrith

[venusbyline]

Fates ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 22, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x wife!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: spit kink

— summary: Jacaerys Velaryon had become the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and you had become his Queen Consort. Grief, sacrifice and pain carried the weight of crowns. The daily tragedies would happen forever until one of you died. This was the true destiny of the Greens and Blacks. There were never victors after the war. The eternal unhappiness was the only conquest.

— word count: 2.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 22nd day, Targcest (aunt/nephew), female!reader, queen consort!reader, king!Jacaerys, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, spit kink, rape/non-con, degradation, rough sex, gore, referenced mutilated penis, nipple play, nipple torture, blood and violence, blood kink, vaginal sex, anal sex, hate sex, implied PTSD, biting, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, VERY DARK CONTENT, hurt no comfort, mild angst, light unconscious sex, ambiguous/open ending (but it would probably be a sad or bittersweet ending), curse words, death threats, sexism, crying, dacryphilia, mild dumbification, referenced permanent injury, mild aftercare (BUT NO REALLY), past genital torture, Jacaerys also lost an eye, fake character death, emotional manipulation, sadism, breast worship, forced orgasm, marriage of convenience, forced marriage, sexual and psychological torture, survivors guilt, male infertility, Jacaerys Velaryon lives, Jaehaera Targaryen lives, Baela Targaryen dies, forced child marriage mentioned, minor Jaehaera Targaryen/Aegon III Targaryen, past Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, past Aemond Targaryen/reader, mild Stockholm syndrome, age gap (older woman/younger man), Jace's 17 during 131 AC and 21 during 135 AC, reader's 21 during 131 AC and 25 during 135 AC, dom!Jacaerys, sub!reader, canon divergence (The Blacks win the Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @turdettethefirst

— crossposting: AO3

"The King ordered your presence into his private chambers, Your Grace. Immediately."

The maid's voice brought you out of your almost peaceful sleep. Before the war, you loved having the calm to sleep and get plenty of rest whenever you could, away from the trivial duties of Royalty. Before, you loved going to sleep and waking up with your nephews laughing and playing on your bed, trying to wake you up by the most messy and childish possible ways. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor were like your children too, you helped your older sister to take care of them, often more present in their lives than Aegon himself, who was always just focused on fucking whores or harassing the castle's servants.

During the Dance of the Dragons, you almost went crazy, also like Helaena. As if the cruel murder of your nephew Jaehaerys was not enough, you were also forced to marry your twin brother, Aemond, who ended up dying during The Battle Above the Gods Eye along with your uncle Daemon, turning you into widow at just twenty years old in that time. Your half-sister Rhaenyra's death was inevitable, as were the deaths of nearly every member of the Targaryen family. However, Rhaenyra's bloodline continued on the throne after the mysterious poisoning of your older brother Aegon II during 131 AC. When the Blacks took back the Iron Throne, your greatest concern would be not only the fact that your other nephew, Aegon III, son of your half-sister and your uncle Daemon, could ascend as the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms at such a young age, but also the fact of what would happen to you and your little niece Jaehaera, who had the tragic fate of marrying the boy even though they were both children, as a stupid attempt at a peace treaty between the Blacks and Greens.

To your surprise, it was not Aegon III who ascended the Iron Throne, much less little Jaehaera or even you. But Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen's firstborn and her legitimized heir, the one that everyone believed for almost two years that he was dead. On that horrifying afternoon, you were sure that the new king would order your death and the death of your niece. Which never happened. You did not know how Jacaerys had survived after the Battle of the Gullet, but despite the possible cruel fate that awaited you, you were grateful that His Grace was a man of his word and swore to keep Jaehaera alive and safe in King's Landing, not breaking up the marriage between her and his little brother, Aegon III, but also giving his word that the two children only would be able to consummate their marriage years later and did not need to act as a couple while they were still so young. After all, Jacaerys might want revenge on your family at all costs, but that did not mean he was in favor of murder or allowing the rape of a little girl, in a certain way.

Even during 135 AC, four years after the coronation of the current ruler, Jaehaera remained alive and safe, protected by her brother-in-law and cousin. Your nephew and husband. The new King. And for that, your fate was forever sealed as the second wife of King Jacaerys Velaryon, the first of his name.

"Lady Wife!" Jacaerys shouted with exaggerated excitement as he lay on the bed, completely naked but covered by the silk sheets. "I see the maids did not disappoint me again this time."

You took a deep breath, remembering the week before when he yelled at the servants for taking so long to bring you to your shared chambers. It had been unnecessary and agonizing to watch how people cowered in the face of his threats. The once kind and sweet Prince Jacaerys had become such a rude and merciless King since the death of his family. You could not blame him, even if you preferred to be able to.

"They were quick to bathe me and get me ready to see you." Your tone was monotonous, without emotion or affection. It was always like this. A slow death sentence you signed for the sake of your niece Jaehaera. You were used to this exhausting routine. Lying with Jacaerys when he was drunk, angry with the duties of his reign and the weight of the crown, as well as the grief that tormented his mind every night, indulging in wine or pleasure houses to try to avoid insanity which was approaching him little by little.

Both of you never knew each other very well before the marriage of convenience. You had interacted with Jace just a few times before the Dance of the Dragons, the last time being at that disastrous Viserys's supper, when Jace tried to be polite and ask Helena and then you for a dance, but his kindness only ended up making Aegon and Aemond jealous about Hel and you, causing more chaos between your families.

You might not know much about Jacaerys. However, it was obvious that the war had changed his personality. Now, he was colder, far from the soft boy who once made you chuckle dancing with him in an almost clumsy way. Now, Jace just saw you as a prize won due to the war, even if you were his second wife. He had lost everyone, even Baela.

Not that he really loved her, but there was affection and protection there. Political marriages that turned into true affectionate feelings. If only Baela had not died during the labor of their stillborn son... Perhaps he would have truly loved her as time passed. Perhaps he would have heirs now and would not need to sleep with you. Or almost that.

"You are so fucking stand-off right now, My Queen." The King muttered mockingly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he took another sip from the wine cup, motioning for you to approach the bed. With a sigh, you walk in silence, taking off your white nightgown you wore and sitting on his lap carefully, looking at him. Jace had intense marks spread across his body and face, scars that you wanted to caress if only he did not despise you as hell.

This adult version of him reminded you of your brother and ex-husband Aemond. The unexpected parallel between the uncle and the nephew was interesting. Both men missing one of their eyes. Aemond One-Eye, Jacaerys One-Eye. But there was no sapphire inside your current husband's eye socket. After reclaiming what was rightfully his, Jace ordered a black obsidian to be molded to fit there. A sadder version of your brother and ex-husband.

You missed Aemond, even if he was not a good husband and refused to breed you until the end of the war. Jacaerys missed Baela, even if he did not have any romantic feelings for her.

"I wish I could breed you with my heirs." Jace murmured, brushing away the silver hair that was in front of your face, taking in your delicate features for a moment. "I wonder if they would have silky light hairs like yours, or if they would be cursed with my dark hair."

His words made you curl into his lap, biting the lip to ward off a pained whining when he grabbed a handful of your silver strands, as if he wanted to rip them out completely and make you swallow every single one of them later. "I wish I still had my cock, then I would fuck you until your cunt swelled and was sore. I would hear you screaming and crying every night, begging me to stop hurting you while your tight little cunt would be constantly bleeding and milking me. And guess what? I would never stop. I WOULD NEVER STOP! I would be turned on seeing my seed leaking from all your holes and you screaming for my mercy just like the disgusting brothel whores."

The sickly macabre sentences caught you off guard and he pushed you under the bed, climbing on top of you, now without the sheets covering the absence of his cock, just the bad stitches and the almost huge nauseating scar where the Greens had ripped off his big and delightful penis. The length that Jacaerys always boasted about as a teenager. He would probably be the next Realm's Delight, just like his mother had been. But now all he had to content himself with was fucking you with his large fingers or his tongue, kissing you aggressively, always biting your lips or your breasts until they bleed, covered with light scars, just like he did with the whores from the brothels. "You should always be my own brood mare. I should force myself on you and make you carry my children every year until you learned to enjoy it. To enjoy me. TO LOVE ME!"

In that same second, as if he could read your mind, Jacaerys spat in the middle of your breasts and pinched your nipples with both hands between index fingers and thumbs, making you scream as he twisted them hard. "I should rip off your own nipples and make yourself eat them for dinner. I should fuck your nasty cunt with the blade of my sword until your womb tears, being disemboweled from the inside. I should kill you like your damn family killed mine." He shouted angrily, hitting your face once before squeezing your chin, forcing you to part your lips so he could spit the wine-tasting saliva onto your tongue. "SWALLOW IT! THIS IS AN ORDER FROM YOUR TRUE KING!"

He yelled, forcing you to obey after the next three slaps he gave you, without even letting you breathe. You swallowed his spit, your tears flowing in panic and your heart racing from it all. Jace's newly acquired cruelty was no longer a surprise to you, but sometimes your attempt at apathy faded and you let your sad emotions take control. You continued crying as the King spat in your face two more times, not even trying to clean up his disgusting mess on your cheeks and just allowing his hands to hurt your aching cunt, his slender fingers fucking you without any care, probably drawing blood while you bit your lip and closed your eyes, trying hard not to pay attention to anything. Trying hard not feeling anything or thinking about anything. Trying hard not to admire the scars on his handsome face or the dark jewel inside his empty eye.

You needed to keep Jaehaera safe. After the death of your sister Helaena, Jaehaera was no longer just your niece, she was also your daughter now. She was the only good thing in whole your life and you needed to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing your body and mind. You wondered if this was how your Lady Mother Alicent felt everytime your stupid father Viserys fucked her since she was just a teenager girl. In those years ago, did Alicent feel violated? Raped? Disgusted with her husband, with the world and mainly with herself? Did she also feel guilty and think she deserved those so cruel acts? But... did Alicent also feel empathy even about the man who hurt her?

Alicent Hightower was a broodmare for Viserys Targaryen. However, Jacaerys Velaryon could not procreate and get you pregnant with his seed. So you did not know what that made you. Just an object to be used and abused by him? Beaten until one day he finally had enough and murdered you? Until the little Aegon III getting older and inherits the Iron Throne due to his older brother's lack of heirs?

Would this be Jaehaera's fate too? Being just a Queen Consort and a whore inside the private chambers against her own will? Was this the fate of all women?

The hours passed in a blur, despite you being conscious the entire time, you decided to keep your thoughts empty and away from the cruel reality, preferring not to staring Jace. You did not realize how messy and filthy your face was with the King's saliva until you felt Jacaerys's hands caressing your cheeks with panic, trying to clean up the violence he made, his own fingers being full of your cum and the blood that had come out so much from your cunt and from your ass, both tight holes bleeding and hurting like the Seven Hells.

"Gods, I am so sorry." Jace sobbed, keeping to wipe your face. You saw how his eye became even more prettier filled with crystal clear tears, his cheeks red from crying. "I am so sorry, My Queen. I did not mean... I did not mean to be like this. I did not want to be a monster. I just want my family back. I just want to be able to be a good husband, I just want to be a father. I did not want to be that kind of King." Jacaerys hugged your tired and vulnerable form, his naked body shaking from the intense bout of crying as he searched your mouth to kiss you softly, as a way to compensate. The kiss tasted like tears, cum and blood. But you did not care. "Oh, Gods. Please, forgive me. Forgive me, aunt." You let him kiss you with some tenderness while he was apologizing in the midst of despair. You knew everything all too well. All of this would happen again in just a few days.

Jacaerys Velaryon had become the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and you had become his Queen Consort. Grief, sacrifice and pain carried the weight of crowns. The daily tragedies would happen forever until one of you died. This was the true destiny of the Greens and Blacks. There were never victors after the war. The eternal unhappiness was the only conquest.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[beware-of-pity]

You believe me like a god (I destroy you like I am) I

Masterlist

- Next

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Summary:

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

TW: Self-hatred/Implied Self Harm. Complicated family relations. The reader is a Targtower.

A/N: This is a blend of both the show and the book, so if most characterisations (mostly the greens) don't add up to you, it's because of that. (since the show has been....something, as of late). Also, Silverwing is your dragon, for story's sake.

Cross-posted on Ao3

Chapter I: I fell in love with a war (nobody told me it ended)

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. 

The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. 

Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

After the Blacks captured the capital and killed your brother Aegon and the rest of your family, your sister ruled the Seven Kingdoms unchallenged. Prince Jacaerys, her son and your nephew, was named the prince of Dragonstone in front of the whole of the realm. Her other sons were given high places of honour at her court, her family was praised and became the subject of songs and tales through the realm, while you and your remaining family became royal afterthoughts. 

Rhaenyra had been unsure of what to do with you when she had taken hold of the capital. At the time, you had the comfort of your older sister Helaena, who you comforted and held most of the time, especially after she had fallen into the grief of madness at the death of her eldest son. She had allowed you relative freedom, more than your mother was allowed, as she had been confined and chained to the dungeons of the keep, gaining her the name ‘The Queen in Chains’. In her ways, you suppose, she had tried to get close to you in an effort to reconcile the break the war had caused to your family, and despite how you had never seen her in the same way your mother had all her life, you remained unresponsive to her approaches. The wounds were too deep, and you weren’t sure you could forgive what had taken place the night Blood and Cheese stormed the castle, even with the knowledge that she had not been the one to orchestrate the siege but rather your uncle Daemon, in the name of revenge for the death of your nephew Lucerys. 

But when Helaena had thrown herself off the highest window of the keep, losing her life after getting impaled by the spikes surrounding it, Rhaenyra had given up hope for reconciliation.  Helaena was the closest family member you had, after your mother, never properly gettin' along with your brothers, except for Daeron. Safe to say, her death had broken you and left you unresponsive to each news of peril coming to your faction. 

When the news of Aemond’s death at the end of your uncle Daemon reached you, you did not shed a tear, and when Daeron died you said you had no time for them. They would be futile, tears did not reach the dead, after all. 

Amidst bloodshed and warmongering, there was but one person you allowed in the solitude your life had taken hold of; Your nephew, Jacaerys. 

It was he who had dismissed the attempts of his mother’s council of sending you away to Old Town to become a Septa or making you a lady in waiting to his step-sisters Baela and Rhaena, who they too took no comfort in the notion. You were their prisoner, yes, but no one must forget that you and Jaehaera were their family, of royal blood, and with peace now upon the realm, proving discord lingering still was not how the House of the Dragon would rebuild itself.  

Jacaerys had convinced them to keep you hostage, using you to keep in line the great houses that had fought alongside the greens - but that was a notion he used only for his allies and councillors. You were more than just a hostage for him, always having been. You were his aunt, one he cherished so. 

Since you were the same age, you had grown up together. You shared a wet nurse in infancy and were often taught your lessons by the same measter. 

You never shared the same dislike your brothers had for him and his brothers, and even so, you thought the notion of Jacaerys stealing Aegon and Aemond’s birthrights, which they and your mother believed in, to be utterly ridiculous. He couldn’t steal something that was not theirs in the first place; he got what he had from his mother, your sister, who had rights over the iron throne long before they were even born. To say you were heartbroken when your sister had taken residence on Dragonstone, taking her children with her, would be an understatement. You were more pained when the next time you saw him was the same night Aemond lost his eye. 

Aemond played the helpless victim of a deliberate attack by your nephews and cousins in public as he spouted devious words about them in private while gloating at his great accomplishment, claiming Vaghar for the greens. Words you tried to reprimand him for, which, in turn, turned his anger to you. It’s not that you didn’t condone his lost eye, but for him to be rid of guilt and his part in the ordeal always ticked you in the wrong way. His anger had always been his least strong suit, narcissism only growing from there, thinking himself invincible, which only resulted in him making rush decisions that gained him but a brief advantage, such as marching to Harrenhall and leaving King’s Landing undefended, giving the perfect opening for your sister to fly and claim as her own. 

You had been among the few asking for Aegon to send for peace. The damage was done, the throne was usurped, though everyone refused to call it so, and you couldn’t do anything about that. When Helaena suggested peace terms, she did so with your support as well as that of your mother and grandmaster Orwyle.

 But Aemond had to go and ruin everything. 

You thought of escaping then, wanting to bring Helaena and her little ones along, flying on Silverwing and Dreamfyre to Dragonstone, bending the knee and seeking protection before Rhaenyra’s wrath befell your family. But how could you? Helaena and you had been separated from Rhaenyra since you two were young, occasionally seeing her when her family visited King’s Landing, you didn’t know the woman or how she would react to you showing up at her doorsteps. 

Besides, you two had been securely under Alicent's thumb for your whole lives, and the thought of your mother thinking you a traitor filled you with panic. You couldn’t betray her or make her believe you had. You and Helaena had been robbed of autonomy your entire lives, but you did try to help Rhaenyra when you two could. So, when Helaena was punished alongside Aegon for something Aemond had done, you felt all the more guilty for not having done more for your siblings. 

If before you had been worried about losing everything, now that you had nothing, you spent your days mute, not doing anything. When your mother was allowed to visit, you turned her away, not wanting to hear of her maddening and secretive plans to place you or Jaehaera on the throne. 

You were told she mostly cried, ripped her old gowns and threw the books given to her out of the windows of her room. You cared for her still, but not enough to deal with her when you too were not doing any better. 

You were not allowed outside, in case you tried an escape, unless Jacaerys or a group of guards accompanied you. You were not allowed to dine with everyone in the great hall and most of all you were deprived of Silverwing. The last you saw or rode her was before Rhaenyra had taken King’s Landing…..and how long ago was that? A year….two? You couldn’t tell….you had lost perception of time.

Jacaerys always proved courteous and kind, just as he had before the war. Even when you were stripped of your room and placed in a smaller one, your staff diminished to only a few trusted maids of his mother, and your gowns relegated to simple, black ones, he always made sure you had everything you needed, which you were grateful for. What he couldn’t give you though, was the thing that pained you the most. 

He brought you books, needles and points to pass your time, and kept you company when he was free of his duties. But it was all futile, nothing could quelch the sting of pain in your heart. 

You wandered the halls like a ghost, the black of your gowns making you blend in the darkness. Some say you were dead inside or having died the day your sister had. Nevertheless, Jacaerys’ attempts at bringing light to your life never ceased. He brought you flowers which you kept in vases in your room, but that with barely any light or air in the smallness of it all, died by the days. As so, he’d let you plant your flowers in the gardens of the Keep. Even though you barely spoke after the death of your entire family, taking care of the flowers made you happy.

You were allowed to bring Jaehaera with you, the little girl taking to you as if you were her mother, and if you were mute, she was another case altogether. Jaehaera was born tiny and slow to grow. She did not cry or smile or act as babies normally would. Her lack of emotion continued as she grew older. She is sweet but a simple girl in mind.  She loved the flowers you planted, which you encouraged for her to pick and take with her to her room.

You two were often asked to attend court, to remember others of your presence and what they meant. Jaehaera would clutch your hand as you held hers, standing as close to you as she could and more so she could hide behind the panels of your skirt. Those days were those she dreaded most; she hated being looked at, especially by so many people, but your presence beside her gave her enough strength and courage to withstand the ordeal. 

Those were also the days you had begun begging your sister to allow you for things. You would kneel, if necessary, in front of the iron throne which she sat upon, asking her in front of the eyes of the court to allow you for simple things, the simple pleasures you had long forgotten the taste of, such as one more gown for you or Jaehaera, the companionship of more maids, or for you to see your dragon.

She would accept every request of yours except for the last, she never accepted the last. But you held the same stubbornness every Targaryen was born with, one she had, and saw in her children too. Your requests became more frequent, sometimes, they were frantic, at times, you cried, while at others, you just asked with the monotony of a dead woman. How low of you, some thought, a royal princess, the daughter of a King long gone, having to beg her sister on her knees. 

While it pained Rhaenyra to turn you down, the pain you felt was one she would never understand. Jacaerys would watch from the sideline all the time, knowing he couldn’t interject with his mother’s word, but none of it made it easier for him to see you so torn down by the reality which you now lived in.

So, one night, he went to his mother, suggesting the one thing he could only come up with.

“Let me take her on Vermax” he had said “if you’re worried about her flying away, with me beside her and on a dragon not of her own, she surely will have nowhere else to go”

Rhaenyra couldn’t object to her son’s words, as so, she relented, though not without a few warnings and orders on her part, which Jacaerys was more than happy to relent to. 

At last, when he came to your room the morning after, he did so with an air so light, it startled you. 

“You wouldn’t mind dressing in your riding fit, would you?” He asked, taking you by slight surprise 

“What do you mean?” You didn’t know if he was making fun of you, and if he were you thought he was doing so in a really bad taste

“I want you to come ride with me” he walked closer, taking your hand in his “Fly on Vermax with me. I know you wish to take to the skies, and Mother has agreed to my request,” he said.

Vermax was small, having grown only to the size of a middle-sized dragon. When you sat upon his saddle, which was tight for two people, such as you and Jacaerys, you only reminisced about Silverwing’s leathery one. Only having to hang around the handle, not being able to pull at the reins or command the dragon, only deepened your yearning for the many rides you had taken in the past and the freedom to do so again. 

You had thanked him, but the gratitude felt hollow when your heart ached so much, and perhaps he had seen through you too. You felt guilty for complaining about such an opportunity and the rarity you had been given. You should be grateful, but what was here to be grateful for when you were a caged bird, in a golden cage, whose wings were ripped from its body? 

You had become hot-tempered, wishing harm on others and yourself, cursing in despair, and picking up one of your mother’s most destroying traits, her nail picking. Your cuticles were often raw and bloody from you either picking at or chewing at them. You did the same to your lips, pulling at the dead skin, drawing blood, the sting making you hiss and following you for days.

You ordered for the curtains of your room not to be drawn, preferring the glow of candles and the scent of incense, even during the day. You visited the sept, the royal one in the Red Keep, not the Grand one in the city, always followed closely by your Septa and guard, lighting candles for the lost souls of your family and for those that had fought for you.

You picked at your food, often leaving it untouched; you had no fondness for meat and mead, leaving you famished and pushing down food when your stomach was begging you for substance. 

Eating yourself alive was the last thing you thought you would be doing if you were to look into your future long ago, but now even the feel of your skin made your fingers crawl over it with the intent to rip and tear apart. How hypocritical of you to send your mother away because of her descent into madness when you were carrying yourself down your own. 

But you weren’t mad, you were unhappy, and unhappy people often were also depressed, which you were.

You only wanted to be happy, to be free, to do as you pleased after years of having been conditioned to the bids of others. First, it was your mother’s, and now they were Rhaenyra’s and her family's. You dream of a time when you could live for the simple pleasure of living, not someone else’s life but your own, not the one others envisioned for you but the one you dreamt for yourself. To breathe the open air, to walk where you wished, whenever you wished so. 

Was it so wrong of you?

The gods are cruel, that’s why they’re gods, and the curse of your family being usurpers now laid all on you. You suffered from the sins which your mother perpetuated, from those her own father sowed the seeds he planted with his ambitions in the dirt laid and worked by your ancestors. You held the rage of all those women before you, your mother’s, her mother’s too, that of your sister and the people at her heel and call. 

All because of who you were. 

[creganslover]

Hello!! First of all I loved your Adam de Hull fanfic you wrote. I know you wanted requests to be specific so I will do my best. Could you do a (Hurt/Comfort) fanfic in which (male) OC, an old friend of Helaena Targaryen, with her is in love with, hears her scream during a nightmare about Blood and Cheese and cuddle with her to sleep since all her family seems to have better things to do? Thanks in advance and sorry if it's too or too little specific or if my english is not perfect.

hellish dream, helaena targaryen x male! OC! Velaryon! Reader

wc: 1.8k

warning/s: the dance doesn't happen, they're a functioning family, canon-typical incest, slight angst from helaena's nightmare, pining, hurt/comfort, not beta read

note: your request is perfect! and if you don't mind, I had altered it a little and I hope it's up to your liking! thank you <3 likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are greatly appreciated.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Sleep was futile for Aerys Velaryon tonight within the Red Keep. 

It could possibly have been due to the fact that he had not walked in these walls for quite a few years now, perhaps the last time being when he was but one and ten if he recalled, before having moved to Dragonstone where he grew up. Though being back in King’s Landing with his family had its perks, specifically where he was able to reconnect with Helaena, and her brothers Aegon and Aemond, the same goes with Aerys’ own brothers, Jacaerys and Lucerys. 

All of them had been tied together in youth, getting into all sorts of mischief, mostly due to Aegon, with Jacaerys following suit, then Lucerys, and reluctantly, Aemond. Aerys had been known to participate in their occasional prank pulling or banter, however he often stayed behind and watched, yet this does not mean he would refuse a challenge or two. 

That’s when once Helaena had found Aerys sitting on the steps by the grounds of the Red Keep, an amused look on his face as Aegon and Jacaerys had been placing a bet on who could win in a game of tug-of-war on the mud between them and their brothers, and that the losers would follow whatever the victors asked.

Aerys had barely engaged with Helaena before as she had been often with herself and within the confines of her chambers, and when she had approached. Unbeknownst to Aerys, an iridescent beetle had settled upon his shoulder, shining a metallic red. The young girl had spoken right beside him which- honestly- made him jump as he wasn’t alerted of her presence, then catching sight of her as Helaena pointed at his shoulder.

 “It likes you.”

It was a simple phrase, yet it had budded a friendship between Aerys and Helaena. It seemed they had both bonded over their like and amusement for being observant, Aerys indulging in Helaena when she had seeked for him the following weeks when she felt it, to show a new critter she had in her collection, or whether it was a finished needlework, in which Aerys had always praised Helaena for and had always made time for her despite the demands of his lessons as a prince. 

They were good childhood friends, Aerys even defending Helaena from Aegon’s unnecessary jabs until their family had ultimately parted with Aerys’ mother Rhaenyra Targaryen moving to reside in Dragonstone, therefore grew in their separate ways.

Moving forward to the present, Aerys had found himself tossing and turning in his given chambers in the Red Keep, before he sighed, sitting up and moving out of bed, rubbing at his face in frustration. His feet had taken him to one of a small chest sitting on his table, fingers fiddling with the lock as it creaked open. 

There he pulled out a cloth, not just any cloth, but an embroidery of his dragon, Skysplitter, given to him by Helaena when they had last met. Even though they had glimpsed each other earlier in the dining hall after such years passed, neither had made a move. 

It was understandable since they were now both grown into a man and woman. Despite that, Aerys managed to give Helaena a smile, in which the latter only pursed her lips and averted her gaze from him in shyness. 

However, it felt as if no time had changed when the cousins Targaryen and Velaryon boys had gotten together, the whole feast spent catching up and having to tolerate Aegon’s jokes and reliving the memories of their childhood now over cups of wine. 

Aerys dragged his thumb down onto the fabric, its threads smooth and firm, Helaena had put much work and detail into it possible, even for its small size, it had depicted Skysplitter’s silver-red scales, wings spread and tail curled. 

It sent Aerys’ mouth quirking to a boyish grin, shaking his head, in all their time apart, he had not been able to let Helaena out of his thoughts, always lingering in the back of his head, even thinking about her had his heart hammering against his chest, begging to be let out so it could find its way to where it wanted to belong. 

Aerys then placed the embroidery back into the chest, shaking himself out of his foolish thoughts, closing the chest with a thud and clicking it shut, before deciding to venture out the halls, throwing a robe over on his shoulders to beat the cold that managed to seep into the castle in the night. 

Mostly everyone should have been asleep now, his family in their own respective chambers. 

Then as he had moved up the stairs, trying to challenge himself if he could remember the way to the balcony where he and Helaena often spent time together. 

Passing by large intricate doors, with guards nowhere in sight, there was a noise making Aerys halt in his steps, eyes meeting the handle. With brows knitted, Aerys knew he should not intervene, and that it was probably something else.

As he made to continue in his steps again, there was a gasp followed by a short yell, muffled through the doors. Aerys instincts kicked in, grabbing at the large door handle, pulling it open imagining someone was in need of help when darkness greeted him, except for a few candles lit. 

There were no signs of trouble, though only then Aerys realized it was another sleeping quarters, based on the heap on the bed. Aerys blinked back, he should turn away now, or it would have been a cause of immodesty for him to be found within another’s bedroom. 

Yet before he could turn back again, the voice was much clearer this time, and in distress. “No, no, not him- please!” 

Helaena. 

Aerys inhaled a sharp breath as the realization of being in Helaena’s quarters hit, and she was there struggling with a nightmare, with no guards posted to alert her family of it. The longer she cried, Aerys broken free from his stupor as he approached where she lay on the side of the bed, hand immediately darting as he spots Helaena’s face scrunched, a stray tear rolling down her cheek in her sleep as she tossed, trying to fight her way out of the nightmare that had a hold on her. 

“Helaena, Helaena, wake up.” Aerys urged, squeezing at her shoulder and trying to shake her awake. It took a few tries with Aerys’ tone deepening in concern before Helaena had jolted awake, sitting up and looking frantically, gesturing and managing to grab a hold of Aerys’ arm, her eyes wide and stricken with grief and panic as she called out for her twins that she did not have at the moment. 

“Where are they? My- my children! Jahaerys, Jahaera- oh Jahaerys…” Helaena said, breathily, seeming as if the air had been knocked out her lungs as she was a mess, tears freely rolling down her flushed cheeks of her creamy skin.

“Helaena.” Aerys voiced firmly, Helaena gasping for air as her body shook, looking at him, mouth parting open and closed as she registered his presence. “Aerys.” She replied, almost in relief, without thinking, pulling him in an embrace, sending him to be sat upon her bed, face buried in his chest, grasping at his robes.

Only then Aerys realized how cold Helaena had been, in turn wrapping his strong arms around her delicate form, though his heart beat faster than a horse could run. Aerys rubbed up and down her back, careful of where he situated his hands as he slowly rested one upon the small of her back, the other shy of just touching her waist. 

“Shh, you are alright, there is no harm here.” Aerys comforted as Helaena’s shaking body soon started to relax, this here, Helaena being in his arms had felt right, as if something had shifted in the stars.

 “No harm will come to you, I swear of it.” Aerys voiced in a fleeting thought. Helaena stayed buried in his chest, arms clinging around him as she steadied her breath with the help of Aerys. 

“They, they took him from me, Aerys.” Never had Aerys heard such fear in her voice, Aerys knew better than to prod when Helaena was clearly distressed. “No one will take anything from you, Helaena.” He responded. He had spent a few minutes ensuring Helaena had come back down from whatever dreams plagued her mind. 

Once Helaena had gone quiet and was now breathing normally, with Aerys rested back on the bed, leaned back against the headrest with Helaena laying her head on his chest now. Aerys absentmindedly traced patterns on her arms through her sleeves of her chemise, before propriety had struck his mind like a blacksmith would hammer a forged sword. 

Shifting, Aerys waged a war within his mind, a part of him selfishly wanted to stay, another deemed that he had done his part and must now leave Helaena alone before he could get in trouble and drag her with him. 

“I think I must go, Helaena.” Aerys carefully voiced, moving and slowly trying to detangle himself from her, reluctantly. 

“Must you really?” Helaena croaked and Aerys felt his composure fracture. He had long avoided looking into Helaena’s face and he made the mistake of doing so now, gazing down at her to find her eyes still puffy and red, eyes conveying more emotions than she spoke.

“I… I would not want to get you in trouble.” Aerys swallowed down. “You could leave before the sun shows…” Helaena suggested before she was tugging onto the sleeve of Aerys’ tunic. “Tell me what endeavours have you sought to do in your years at Dragonstone?” She added, liking to hear more of Aerys’ voice which had managed to calm her tonight. 

Thus with Aerys  taking a quick glance out into the window of Helaena’s chambers, calculating that he likely had a few more hours before the keep would come alive again, he obliged. 

“-you should have seen the look on poor Lucerys’ face when he had first rode on Arrax.” Aerys could fondly remember having to steady the youngest on his feet when he got back down onto the ground, unable to even jest with his brother in between laughter. 

As he looked down at Helaena, he found her fast asleep, curled up against his side, a hand splayed on his abdomen, stirring feelings he had held back for so long with them in this position. Smoothing a few stray hairs away from her face, smiling dearly when Helaena’s nose would scrunch in turn, he placed a featherlight kiss upon the crown of her silver head. 

Whatever the Gods had in store for them now, Aerys vowed that in time and come whatever may, one way or another, was going to ask for Helaena’s hand.

[painted-flag]

Rules and Guidelines for Requests.

WORKS IN PROGRESS. ╰┈➤ A list of all of the WIPs I am currently working on.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ House of the Dragon

╰┈➤ Aemond Targaryen:

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - dark elf!Aemond series. (COMPLETE)

╰┈➤ Aegon Targaryen:

A DRUNKARD'S PATHOS - elf!Aegon series. (COMING SOON)

╰┈➤ Benjicot Blackwood:

Daenys and Benjicot series: (x velaryon!oc) (COMPLETE) ✧.* From Eden. ✧.* From Eden, II. ✧.*From Eden, III. ✧.*From Eden, IV. ✧.*From Eden, V.

Imagines: ✧.* Duty is the Death of Love.

Series:

Between the Pages: HOTD characters x fairytales .𖥔 ݁ ˖Masterlist.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Gladiator

╰┈➤ Emperor Commodus:

SERIES: A VICTOR - part one | part two | part three (COMPLETE)

IMAGINES: SUNSETS

╰┈➤ Emperor Geta:

IMAGINES: DIES NATALIS - geta x reader x caracalla PROTECTION - geta x reader x caracalla

╰┈➤ Emperor Caracalla:

IMAGINES: DIES NATALIS - geta x reader x caracalla PROTECTION - geta x reader x caracalla

╰┈➤ Lucius Verus:

-work coming soon-

╰┈➤ Marcus Acacius:

-work coming soon-

[aemonds-favorite-rider]

Aegon's Halloween Party.

mdni. nsfw below

hi everyone. i like halloween. do you like halloween? this is what i think modern! hotd men would dress up as with their girl to attend Aegon Targaryens yearly halloween party.

Aegon Targaryen:

Bonnie and Clyde. He's your ride or die and vice versa. He dresses in the old timey clothes with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up. Joint tucked between his teeth as his hands run up your old timey suit. Telling you what a pretty partner in crime you are. He absolutely pounds the shit out of you in his bed mid party before going back with a cheeky smirk. Your stolen panties in his suit pocket like the perfect thief.

Aemond Targaryen:

Ghostface. Could you imagine? Getting this tall man into a ghostface mask paired with your Sidney costume? It's a miracle you even make it to Aegon's halloween party. You last all but an hour pretty much before you're both leaving to get back to your place...where a lovely night of role play goes on that leaves you absolutely screaming :)

Jacaerys Velaryon:

Hear me out! Victor Van Dort and Emily from Corpse Bride. Is he not perfect for it?! Tall and lanky, even the hair. He absolutely loves the effort you put into it all and 100% is bending you against the bathroom counter at the party hiking up the tattered dress as he murmurs for you to be so good for him so you don't get caught. Letting you know you're his woman.

Cregan Stark:

Little Red Riding hood and the big bad wolf. It writes itself folks. Letting you tease up his long brown hair and giving him fake canines...you don't even go to Aegon's party. He takes you straight to the woods and letting you roam out far enough before hunting you down...who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

[viihelii]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, 1.05: "WE LIGHT THE WAY", 1.08: "THE LORD OF THE TIDES", 1.09: "THE GREEN COUNCIL" + art (4/...)

Lord Boremund Baratheon, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Criston Cole ∙ The Reluctant Bride by Auguste Toulmouche, 1866 Queen Alicent Hightower ∙ Mary Magdalene by Giacinto Brandi, 1621-1691 Queen Alicent Hightower ∙ Lying Female Nude by Victor Casimir Zier, 1881 Queen Alicent Hightower ∙ The Last Day of Pompeii by Karl Pavlovich Bryullov, 1830-1833

+ bonus (creds to dingusfreakhxrrington for divider)

King Viserys I Targaryen, Prince Daemon Targaryen and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen ∙ Théodore Géricault on His Deathbed by Charles Emile Champmartin, 1824 The Royal Family (Houses Targaryen, Velaryon and Hightower) ∙ The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci, 1494-1498 

[atopvisenyashill]

THE HISTORY OF MARRIAGE ALLIANCES BETWEEN HOUSE VELARYON AND THE SUMMER ISLANDERS OF ESSOS

The more I think about Corlys and the Dragon Twins as characters, the more I really like the change to book canon that their heritage isn't quite so strictly Valyrian. They seem to be this middle ground between the Celtigars, who imo likely "went native" very quickly, and the Targaryens, who, ya know, *gestures at that mess* because they seem to have more Valyrian marriages and their Valyrian heritage is taken more seriously than the Celtigars.

I settled on this idea that being a house of seafarers, they often intermarry with various Essosi nobles and that’s part of why ~the blood of valyria~ is still strong with them despite not partaking in incestuous marriages; like Larra Rogare or Serenei of Lys, many Essosi do have Valyrian looks and Valyrian heritage and the Velaryons are in a position as adventurers to meet and fall in love with these nobles.

One thing I noticed about the Summer Islands is that they seem to have a healthy diaspora, not just in King’s Landing but in Braavos - Arya mentions Bellegere Otherys still resembling a Summer Islander despite it being several generations since Bellegere Otherys the First. It also seems like there’s Summer Islanders that live long term in Braavos; there's 50 Summer Islanders in the Golden Company, Arya mentions seeing many Summer Islanders, and Sam and Gilly travel on a boat crewed largely by Summer Islanders. This all makes sense world building wise - they're a culture of seafarers and we usually see them at large hubs like King's Landing and Braavos.

So really, folding show canon Corlys into book canon is incredibly easy when you think about the high number of Summer Islanders at port cities. My thought here is - Corlys is a proud man and very insistent on how he built his own fortune, both in the show and in the books. I thought of the type of parents he could have had and settled on a man who becomes angered at the comments he and his mother get for being darker skinned and Essosi/Summer Islander and deciding to just double down by marrying a rich Braavosi Summer Islander. So first Daemon meets a Sumemr Isles princess on his own travels, Salata Xam, and falls in love, then Corwyn, like Corlys, attempts to build a fortune through his own accomplishments, including his marriage to the rich Sarissa Jaedosys, and passes that stubborn streak onto his son.

Then, similar to how Sybell uses her new connections to get her brother some land (though he’s still kinda fucked there lol), and the Lyseni Spring, the House of Jaedosys ("jaedos" means "summer" in Valyrian, so while the family is Braavosi and has considered themselves Braavosi for some time, their house name is a reference to their origins in the Summer Isles) uses their new connection in Westeros to build their own fortunes up as well. Corwyn’s (canon) brother, Victor marries a cousin of Sarissa's, Doreah Jaedosys. In canon, Daemon and Corwyn have several children - Daemon’s names here are all canon (AND he has some daughters), and Corwyn has an unknown amount of kids. I think this explains why there’s so many Black Velaryons - there’s just like, a shitton of Velaryon cousins right now!

So once I established Corlys and his brothers as being mostly Summer Island descent, from there I moved onto who is likely a descendant of the Dragon Twins (and Corlys). For Rhaena’s many daughters, I thought of Targaryen names that sounded Andal-ish/Reacher-ish and Andal names that sounded Targaryen-ish; there's a pattern in the Reach of using the more religious-affiliated Targaryen names as Reacher names (Aemon, Aegon, and Baelor have all come up!) so I think at least part of this is Rhaena's influence. I decided on Alyssa, Leyla, Victaria, Aelora, Denyse, and Rhaella.

I also combined this with my “Elaena marries Baela’s grandson” theory, which I feel makes a lot of sense - not only the Penrose-Valyrian connection and story implications, but notably the name “Laena” is a Velaryon name. I think if Ronnel’s mother was also a Laena, and both of them were half Velaryon, this little bond between them of choosing a Velaryon name for their first born daughter feels very sweet and romantic even. PLUS, if a Targaryen descended girl marries into another house, I can see people wanting to show that off every once in a while through a name. This is why Rhaena’s girls marry a Costayne and a Hightower!

Then I started thinking about the timeline and what was happening politically as all these descendants of Corlys start marrying. Given that the Tarlys were staunch supporters of Rhaenyra, I can see Rhaena wanting to reward that, and Garmund agreeing due to them being a powerful Reacher house. Since there is mention of the Blackfyre Rebellion ~pitting brother against brother~ and the Costaynes sided with Daemon, I thought having a Hightower-Targaryen involved in that mess would be thematically fun; either Aelora sides against her husband or Aelora marries a Costayne that sides against the main branch. Either way, when the rebellion is over, Daeron punishes the main branch Costaynes by taking most of their lands and giving it to Aelora and her daughters. As for Denyse, I thought it would make sense, once again, for her to turn back to the Braavosi Sumer Islanders for a husband; a First Sword of Braavos, perhaps, who use Hightower grey and a pink dragon to represent Denyse's heritage in their sigil.

Also Alyssa Hightower was originally supposed to marry Leo Hightower (Lady Sam and Lyonel's oldest son) but when she found out Leyla was in love with him, she committed herself to the Faith. Why? Because I think that's absolutely hilarious. Septa Alyssa is making Daemon roll over his grave lmao.

[sharararararara]

MASTER LIST★

AVATAR

NETEYAM:

All I wanted was you...( Yandere Neteyam x Metkayina reader)

Neteyam HCS( Neteyam x reader)

Husband Neteyam x reader( AGED UP) (NO SMUT)

Not all stories end with a happy ending( Neteyam x Metkayina reader) (ANGST)

AO'NUNG:

Ao'nung HCS( AO NUNG X READER)

Yandere Ao'nung HCS

TSIREYA:

I see you...( Tsireya x Fem Metkayina reader) (Angst turns into fluff)

Tsu'tey:

Nga yawns lu oer...(Tsu'tey x Omaticaya reader) (angst turns into fluff)

YANDERE AVATAR THE WAY OF WATER FAN FICTION:

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

AEMOND TARGARYEN:

RIGHT PERSON WRONG TIME( Aemond x reader ANGST)

Fire and blood( Dark Aemond Targaryen x reader) ( Coming soon)

Yandere Aemond x Older sister reader (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3 )

Aemond Smut Imagine

Jacaerys Velaryon:

Yandere Jacaerys Velaryon x reader HCS

Harry Potter

CEDRIC DIGGORY:

ALMOST LOOSING YOU- DARK CEDRIC DIGGORY X READER

VICTOR KRUM:

My swan( Yandere Victor Krum x reader)

DRACO MALFOY:

Yandere Draco Malfoy x reader( coming soon)

HARRY POTTER:

Coming soon

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM:

Coming soon

HUNGER GAMES

FINNICK ODAIR:

Never letting you go- Finnick Odair( Dark Finnick x reader)

CATO HADLEY:

Blood in my hands- DarkCato Hadley x reader( coming soon)

CORIOLANUS SNOW:

Cold as snow( Dark Coriolanus Snow x reader)

PEETA MELLARK

Coming soon

HONKAI STAR RAIL

JING YUAN:

Yandere Jing Yuan x reader HCS

DAN HANG

coming soon

BLADE

Coming soon

ONE PIECE

ZORO:

Yandere Zoro x reader HCS

SANJI:

WILL POST SOON

BUGGY:

WILL POST SOON

LORD OF THE RINGS/ THE HOBBIT

LEGOLAS:

WILL POST SOON

THRANDUIL:

Letter from Dark Thranduil

Dark Thranduil HCS

FRODO:

WILL POST SOON

PIPPY:

WILL POST SOON

MERRY:

WILL POST SOON

SAMWISE:

WILL POST SOON

ARAGORN:

WILL POST SOON

Game Of Thrones

Daenerys

Coming soon

Jon Snow

Coming soon

Sansa Stark

Coming soon

Rob Stark

Coming soon

Oberyn Martel

Coming soon

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS

LUKE CASTELLAN

Dark Luke Castellan x reader HCS

The sun shines brighter when I'm with you.

Wrapped in a deadly embrace

PERCY JACKSON

Finding you

ANNABETH CHASE

COMING SOON

GROVER UNDERWOOD

COMING SOON

CLARISSE LA RUE

WAR AND BEAUTY

Outer Banks

RAFE CAMERON

Sick.

[thevelaryons]

I’ve always found it interesting that of the lowborn/bastard women in the DotD, Marilda is the only one who doesn’t get slandered and insulted in the Westerosi history books.

Speaking specifically about the women who were rumored to have had affairs with noblemen, the women (Sara Snow/Alys Rivers/Nettles) in particular get derogatory descriptions for various reasons. The men they are linked to all either die or are unable to do anything about the rumors (Sara: her rumored lover Jace dies and her brother Cregan is far away in the North when those rumors become a thing in the South years later/Alys: her rumored lover Aemond dies and her son is obviously too young to do anything about the insults people are saying about his mother/Nettles: her rumored lover Daemon dies). Regardless of whether any of the rumors were true or not, it's still the women in the relationships who were described in a negative manner. Even men like Aemond or Daemon don't get as slandered, despite their more controversial actions.

Sara may or may not have existed (the fact that her existence alone is doubted speaks for itself) but in the history books she is described as an "unwashed" bastard. Even the fact she was a virgin at the time of her affair with Jace is called into question. Alys gets descriptors like "slattern" and "cow". She is reviled as a seductress and witch who would sacrifice her own children. Nettles gets insulted as well, both by characters around her and the maesters/septons recording the histories. Beyond the classism, there is also a racial angle to the insults with her skin colour always being at the forefront when she gets called "dirty" and "creature". It’s unfortunate but Westerosi society is unfair to women, especially those of a lower social class, and so they do often have to rely on the men in their lives, whether that’s a male lover/husband, their father, brother(s) or son(s) as a source of protection. Characters like Sara/Alys/Nettles don't get that protection.

Then you get to Marilda's descriptions in the book, and it's completely clean. Not a single insult is uttered against her despite her supposed involvement with two different Velaryon men. Whether her affair was with Corlys or Laenor, it occurred at the time when they were married men. Laenor is dead by the time when he's claimed to be the father of Marilda's sons. But Corlys is alive and well. Not to mention, he's a very well respected figure in Westerosi society. That being said, I can’t see Corlys doing any major PR control here since he does not have the means to do so.

Alyn, however, could ensure his mother did not get negative remarks. He's the one said to have fostered close ties to the Citadel and a positive relationship with the Faith. On more than one occasion, he was anointed by the High Septon himself, which is something that's typically reserved for the King or his Kingsguard. So I think Alyn might’ve used that influence to his favor.

While Alyn does seem like the type who doesn’t care much about what others think of him, he clearly respects his mother so I doubt he would want her to have a bad reputation. Even concerning the rumors of Alyn's potential affairs, the maesters are somewhat dismissive about them and call the rumors "unreliable". They don't give much credence to what third parties are saying on such matters. As for Alyn's mother, she is spoken of with nothing but respect and even flattery at times.

History is truly written by the victors.

[heireign]

THE HOUSEHOLD OF PRINCESS RHAENYRA TARGARYEN / p2.

Lady Rosalind Strong—born in 94AC at Harrenhal in its kingspyre tower, she was the daughter of Lord Lyonel Strong and his lady wife, the lady Cynthea Lothston, his first daughter and first child with his second wife who died when the girl was two from illness. a quiet girl in her youth, yet always perceptive, she was a girl of eleven when her father moved she and her siblings to court in 105AC, just before the death of Queen Aemma Arryn. she's intelligent, careful, capable and kind, well intentioned over all - though she does come off more then a little blunt sometimes in her pursuit of the truth, she grew up particularly close to her eldest half brother, Ser Harwin Strong. she has a sharp sense of humor and definite protective side. she and her younger sister in particular were great comforts to the young princess after the death of her mother. she and rhaenyra bond over books, and bond over the ever constant debate over their contents.

Lady Marna Strong—born in 97AC, at Harrenhal in the wailing tower, she was the daughter of Lord Lyonel Strong and his lady wife, the lady Marissa Blackwood, his second daughter and first child with his third wife, named in honor of her mother who died giving birth to her. a bit more adventurous then her elder sister, yet equally as quiet at times, she prefers to gauge the risk before she takes it to see what the chance of success may well be for her. she's perceptive, empathetic, intelligent, and warm. while also being a bit reckless at times - it's tempered by the quickness of her mind, and her ability to learn and gather herself after her mistakes. marna loves dancing, and music. being the same age as the princess at the time she joined her service, she in particular was easy to talk to after the loss of her mother. the two of them bond predominantly over their love for fashion and fabrics, their love for the brighter aspects of balls and the celebratory aspects of all of that.

Lady Shaera Velaryon — born in 97AC upon high tide, she was the firstborn daughter of Lord Daemon Velaryon's youngest son, Victor Velaryon and his lady wife, the lady Meredyth Darklyn's first born son Ser Aethan Velaryon, and his lady wife - the lady Cerissa Marbrand. fostered until the age of eleven years old by lord and lady harte, the mother and father of her cousin daeron's future wife hazel harte, she was then brought to court at the age of 12 by Lord Corlys Velaryon as a favor to her father, and given place amongst the princess' household in a preliminary attempt to mend fences between house targaryen and house velaryon after the wedding of viserys i to queen alicent hightower in 106AC, in the year 109AC, the same year the princess helaena was born. persistent, intelligent, compassionate and protective of her friends and loved ones, she has more then earned her slightly prideful nature. she and her lady bond over their fondness for performing music, and the lady shaera often leaves her gittern in the princess' chambers. she is at ease in court environs, even though she likes the often duplicitious nature of it little, she can navigate it with practiced skill.

Lady Corenna Buckler—born in 93AC at the seat of her mother’s lord father in, greenstone, she was born a moon early, and some had feared that she might have died in the cradle, yet the girl survived. she was the daughter of Lord Allard Buckler and his lady wife, the lady Isadora Estermont. the oldest of the princess' ladies in wait, she was the one who joined her service first. and as a consequence, for a long while considered the younger as a little sister rather then a friend. she’s intelligent, entirely loyal, stubborn and bold, direct - though never unkind, she is very protective of the princess, from being at her side the longest of her ladies, from early in the year 104AC. her mother Isadora served for a time in the household of princess gael targaryen, before she asked leave to return to the stormlands where she might settle and marry and have children of her own. the girls met for the first time in early 106, after Lord Allard traveled to the red keep to swear obeissance to the young princess rhaenyra and decided to stay for a prolonged period, appointing a castellan to guard his seat while the trio remained. she is an only child, and one who remained at court after her parents departed. they bond over their enjoyment of physical activity, namely, a shared love of horses. and the peace and quiet that being outside and away despite enjoying the court environment for the most part brings them.

Lady Elinda Massey—born in 101AC at stonedance as the daughter of the lord Gormon Massey and his lady wife the Lady Amanda Arryn. rhaenyra first met her cousin as a babe after the council of 101AC, and then again as a small child at the funeral of her mother. she first was sent to serve rhaenyra as cupbearer in 113AC, before she joined her household in full upon her departure from kingslanding to take up dragonstone as her own seat in 115AC. she is the youngest of her ladies, and the one rhaenyra herself protects as such, wanting more then anything to protect her from the hostilities at court. she is a sweet, gentle girl, and always kind and caring, she wants to do anything she can to help her lady. she is dutiful and a tad meek, but willing to summon the courage of something need be done.

Lady Alarra Costayne—born in 96AC at three towers, as the daughter of the lord Owen Costayne and his lady wife the lady Rohanne Merryweather. she joined the princess’ household later the others, yet she was the first one who’s name was put forth by the princess herself once they met upon her tour in 112AC, mere moons before the lady alarra reached her majority. she made the arrangements with her father and mother for the girl to travel back to court with her and join her household. the talk had been at the time to wed the girl to a hightower cousin of the queen, though no arrangements had been made yet - joining the princess’ house had been demeaned a more advantageous arrangement. she is a light hearted, easy natured girl with a strong head on her shoulders, her gentle demeanor is a choice that she makes that makes her feel lighter then the alternative, for its the truth of her, and she refuses to let that dim for anyone. she is polite, courtly, intelligent and not exactly quiet - but choosy with her words and fretful she might say the wrong ones. she and rhaenyra bond over the histories, over a fondness for sweets and over a love of archery.

Lady Lyessa Redfort — born in 97AC at redfort castle in the vale, as the daughter of Lord Gyles Redfort, and his lady wife, the lady Myriame Karstark, and niece to Ser Adrian Redfort. she joined the princess’ household as a favour done to her lady cousin jeyne and as a reward for the leal service of her uncle, who had joined the garrison upon dragonstone during the early years of her father’s reign, in late 103AC, and had served faithfully since - she was the second name that the princess put forth, and in the year 110AC. her appointment was a boon given to her by her father, one of many, in those days. and the year that her lady cousin had reached her majority and took control of the vale in her own right - a letter of hers had introduced the possibility to the princess. she is especially skilled at needlework, and lace work, and can sew incredibly beautiful and incredibly intricate embroidery. she has attempted tutor rhaenyra in the art, who’s own in passable at best. she has a dry, subtle sense of humor and an infectious laugh. she is very meticulous, very driven and very much a fan of idle chatter - she talks as she works and she talks even after. she believes that it can be calming, that lack of silence, and is always the one to fill the gap when silence had fell between rhaenyra and any of her ladies. the two of them bonded over her attempts to help her, and they’re the ones willing to fill that gap mutually for each other, knowing that neither are comfortable in it entirely.

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ fandoms & characters I write for. ੈ✩‧₊˚

the fandoms I'm currently taking requests for are marked red. my favorite characters to write for will also be marked red.

if a piece of media you want to see me write for isn't on this list, ask me about it and I'll see if I'm familiar with it or intrigued by it enough to watch/read it. this list will be edited in case I become interested in writing for another fandom.

banner credits : @dollywons <3

╰┈➤ movies ₊❏❜ ⋮ ⌒

- the twilight saga - aro volturi, caius volturi, marcus volturi, demetri volturi, felix volturi, sulpicia volturi, athenodora volturi, leah clearwater, paul lahote, jasper hale, rosalie hale, alice cullen, carlisle cullen, benjamin (of the egyptian coven)

- the hunger games - finnick odair, johanna mason, gale hawthorne, cressida, cato, madge undersee (platonic)

- the ballad of songbirds and snakes - coriolanus snow, lucy gray baird, sejanus plinth, tigris snow, livia cardew, reaper ash,

- james bond franchise (daniel craig) - james bond, vesper lynd, le chiffre, gareth mallory (m), maximilian denbigh (c), lyutsifer safin

- harry potter - godric gryffindor, salazar slytherin, rowena ravenclaw, helga hufflepuff, newt scamander, theseus scamander, tom marvolo riddle, abraxas malfoy, barty crouch jr, regulus black, severus snape, evan rosier, james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, peter pettigrew, lily evans, marlene mcckinnon, pandora lovegood, xenophilius lovegood, bill weasley, charlie weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ron weasley, draco malfoy, theodore nott, blaise zabini, hermione granger, harry potter, oliver wood, cedric diggory

╰┈➤ tv shows ₊❏❜ ⋮ ⌒

- game of thrones - robb stark, sansa stark, jon snow, daenerys targaryen, jaime lannister, margaery tyrell, cersei lannister, ramsay bolton, tywin lannister, tyrion lannister, joffrey baratheon, theon greyjoy, viserys targaryen, oberyn martell, bronn of the blackwater, edmure tully, ygritte

- house of the dragon - otto hightower, alicent hightower, gwayne hightower, daemon targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, aegon 'the elder' targaryen, aemond targaryen, jacaerys velaryon, mysaria, alys rivers, addam of hull, ser criston cole

- from - ellis stevens, sara myers, nathan myers, kenny liu, fatima hassan, randall kirkland, jade herrera, tabitha matthews, jim matthews, boyd stevens, julie matthews (platonic), victor kavanaugh (platonic), kristi miller, marielle sinclair

- elementary - sherlock holmes, joan watson, marcus bell, mycroft holmes, jamie moriarty, odin reichenbach, gareth lestrade

- criminal minds - aaron hotchner, jennifer jareau, kate callahan, emily prentiss, elle greenaway, spencer reid, derek morgan, luke alvez, penelope garcia, tara lewis, jason gideon, david rossi, will lamontagne

- bones - zack addy, seeley booth, temperance brennan, angela montenegro, jack hodgins, camille saroyan, lance sweets, daisy wick, arastoo vaziri, jessica warren, finn abernathy, vincent nigel-murray, wendell bray

- castle - kate beckett, richard castle, javier esposito, kevin ryan, lanie parish, tom demming, hayley shipton, alexis castle (platonic)

- gotham - jim gordon, barbara kean, victor zsasz, oswald cobblepot, edward nygma, sofia falcone, jerome valeska, jeremiah valeska, tabitha galavan

- brooklyn 99 - rosa diaz, gina linetti

- shadow & bone - genya safin, kaz brekker, nikolai lantsov, jesper fahey, zoya nazyalensky, nina zenik, inej ghafa, matthias helvar

╰┈➤ books ₊❏❜ ⋮ ⌒

- a song of ice and fire series (mostly fire & blood) - arianne martell, young griff "aegon", aegon ' the conqueror' targaryen, rhaenys 'the conqueror' targaryen, visenya 'the conqueror' targaryen, maegor targaryen, rhaena targaryen, aemon targaryen, baelon targaryen, aegon 'the younger' targaryen, viserys ii targaryen, aemon 'the dragonknight' targaryen, daemon blackfyre, shiera seastar, daemon blackfyre

- the secret history - julian morrow, richard papen, henry winter, camilla macaulay, charles macaulay, edmund 'bunny' corcoran

- the folk of the air - jude duarte, cardan greenbriar, locke, nicasia, valerian, dain greenbriar, the ghost, the roach, the bomb, liriope

- house of hollow - iris hollow, vivi hollow, grey hollow, tyler yang

[venusbyline]

Spreading some love in the HotD fandom. Share your favorite fic that you've written recently, and your favorite that you've read? Or tag a fellow writer you'd love to show some love to ♡

omg tysm for show me this HOTD fandom's trend <3 <3 <3

my fav fics that I wrote recently:

⚠️: some of these fics contain dark content/dead dove: do not eat content and tw for rape/non-con or dubcon

Butterfly — Helaena Targaryen x brothel worker!reader x Aegon II Targaryen

— summary: You are Aegon's favorite prostitute and finally meet his wife during one of your special visits to the Red Keep.

Fates — Dark!Jacaerys Velaryon x wife!reader

— summary: Jacaerys Velaryon had become the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and you had become his Queen Consort. Grief, sacrifice and pain carried the weight of crowns. The daily tragedies would happen forever until one of you died. This was the true destiny of the Greens and Blacks. There were never victors after the war. The eternal unhappiness was the only conquest.

Sickly — Rhaenyra Targaryen x daughter-in-law!reader

— summary: Motherhood was sickly, sickly enough for a grieving mother to mourn her son's death while kissing her widowed daughter-in-law's lips.

Sleep — Dark!Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— summary: Jacaerys was determined to make you his wife, forcing his mother to marry him to you, even against her will. Or against your will too.

my fav fics that I read recently:

@annwrites — Give Me Your Wrists (Dark!Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader)

@aphroditelovesu — Yandere Aegon II/Aemond Targaryen Headcanons (Aegon II Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen x gn!reader)

@entitled-fangirl — Never Happier (Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader)

@idkyetxoxo — A Night on Silk Street (Aegon Targaryen x brothel worker!reader)

@jacesvelaryons — Saving Face (Jacaerys Velaryon x Targtower!reader)

@princessbellecerise — Baby Blues (Cregan Stark x wife!reader)

@princessvelaryon — Just a Taste (Vampire!Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader)

@sylasthegrim — The Two Faces of the Moon (Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader)

[backjustforberena]

By the time of Episode 09, Rhaenys BARELY knows Alicent. She's hardly given her any thought at all, especially adult Alicent. They've never spent any time together - the Velaryons boycotted the wedding, then they were at war in the Stepstones so no visits to court at all. First time Rhaenys would have seen Alicent as Queen would have been Laenor's betrothal feast- her green dress is not a move she has context for nor is it the most important thing to then happen that day, and then in the next ten years MAYBE they've seen one another in formal occasions or family events but they don't KNOW each other, they've not spoken to one another, really.

The only other time they are in one another's presence is when Alicent goes "mad" at HER daughter's funeral and her standing soberly in judgement at Vaemond's petition because Rhaenys kept to her island for the next six years.

Rhaenys has never HAD reason to give Alicent the time of day or any reason to try and figure her out. Alicent has never been a political threat to what Rhaenys holds most dear, during times in which Rhaenys has been political active. She has no opinion on the Queen because she doesn't need one.

Alicent, arguably, knows more about Rhaenys than the other way around. She'd have had informants like Viserys, Otto, Vaemond. Information will have trickled through over the years, enough for her to make assumptions that she then tries to weaponise.

Rhaenys gets about two seconds. A "beat" of looking Alicent Hightower up and down. Of study. And then Rhaenys is able to hit her at her core and play mind games and send Alicent in a tailspin that has her all but RUNNING from the room in FOUR sentences.

When Alicent is the one who has Rhaenys imprisoned and the one with the better position and power... Rhaenys comes out as victor.

[woodsborostabathon]

aka the user formerly known as ambersrequel (rip). ceci / 23 / she/her / lesbian / boricua but i get a lil yeehaw with it. i'm not quite as strict with my dni criteria as i am with my headcanons! basically just don't follow me if you're: an anti, under 18, or have a habit of bashing any of the media i'm into. i'm proship and don't play about my faves, so please don't get me started.

speaking of my faves, this is kinda-sorta an about, kinda-sorta a masterlist of them!

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒.

lolita. vc andrews' dollanganger & casteel family sagas. my best friend's exorcism. stephen king's work (mainly carrie & misery). the kingdom of little wounds. the miseducation of cameron post. the mortal instruments. twilight. the virgin suicides. richard siken's work. junji ito's work (mainly tomie, dissolving classroom, & uzumaki). dark water. toradora. blood on the tracks.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒 (𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑).

scream franchise (esp. films 4-6). saw franchise. the ring. final destination franchise. nightmare on elm street (1984. dream warriors. & 2010). dark water (both vers.). the exorcist. tragedy girls. marrowbone. get out. us. barbarian. abigail. ready or not. candyman (both vers.). mama. orphan. fatal attraction. it (1990). house of wax. the witch. silent night deadly night. village of the damned (1995). bloody birthday. the bad seed (1956). the craft. forget me not. my bloody valentine (2009). sleepaway camp. jennifer's body. silent hill. hereditary. white: curse of the melody. cinderella (2006). sinister (1 & 2). carrie (1976 & 2013). sorority row. ouija: origin of evil. lisa frankenstein . . . full list on my letterboxd bc otherwise, i'd keep going forever.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒 (𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑).

lolita (both vers.). the virgin suicides. flowers in the attic (both vers.). but i'm a cheerleader. welcome to the dollhouse. bottoms. the addams family (1991 & values). the hunger games. twilight saga. suicide squad (2016 & 2021). thirteen. heavenly creatures. heathers. gone girl. the room.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐓𝐕 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐒.

euphoria. you. interview with the vampire. house of the dragon. yellowjackets. supernatural. the summer i turned pretty. law & order: special victims unit. cruel summer. american horror story. that 70's show. criminal minds. ginny & georgia. shadowhunters. death note. mirai nikki. black mirror. love, victor. big love. deadly women.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒.

the sims (mainly 2 & 4). crusader kings iii. phasmophobia. dead by daylight. roblox. content warning. fire emblem (awakening & fates).

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂.

xana. ice nine kills. lana del rey. ethel cain. glass animals. flower face. marina. pom pom squad. chappell roan. melanie martinez. the technicolors. idkhow. ayesha e. waterparks. hey violet. mother mother. taylor swift. sza. panic! at the disco. my chemical romance. the weeknd. olivia rodrigo. young miko.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒.

amber freeman. charlie walker. the kirsch siblings. sidney prescott. dewey riley. kirby reed. tara carpenter. chad meeks-martin. liv mckenzie. vince schneider. anika kayoko. amanda young. john kramer. carrie white. nancy thompson. quentin smith. jesse braun. louis & claudia de point du lac. lestat de lioncourt. shauna shipman. jackie taylor. dahlia williams. chris & regan macneil. samara morgan. angela baker. alessa gillespie. wendy christensen. esther coleman. mara chaffee. rhoda penmark. joe goldberg. love quinn. delilah & ellie alves. yuno gasai. misa amane. debbie brody. jennifer check. needy lesnicki. billy chapman. pearl. tomie kawakami. grace le domas. nan (ahs). alicent hightower. rhaenyra targaryen. helaena targaryen. jace velaryon. dolores haze. nate jacobs. maddy perez. cassie & lexi howard. fezco. gomez & morticia addams. wednesday addams. olivia benson. jeanette turner. jackie burkhart. steven hyde. the dollanganger siblings. heaven & tom casteel. isabelle & alec lightwood. magnus bane. simon lewis. carlisle & alice cullen. rosalie hale. cecilia lisbon. dawn wiener. cameron post. abby rivers. gretchen lang. harley quinn.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 & 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒.

ocs. writing. the flds. some other cults + religious fundamentalism. psychology. video editing. video essays. book collecting (specifically 1st edition vca). lovecore + 'coquette' aesthetics. dogs. being silly & perhaps even goofy.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒.

slashersimmer (simblr), slashersweethearts (horror fandom ocs).