Dragons' Scars

𝐈𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐬 ( 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 ) 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞!! 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐱 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧/ 𝐄𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐬 & 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞!! ( 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐥 ) 𝐀𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞!!

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐬 & 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞!! 𝐀 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐚!! 𝐈𝐟 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦!! 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 & 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞.

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Requested by Anon

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Request: Anonymous asked: "I know that you’re bedridden but I came to bother you." Rhaenyra x sister reader please

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You sat up as the door to your bedroom opened. Rhaenyra in her nightgown, followed by her nervous handmaiden let themselves in.

“I know that you’re bedridden but I came to bother you.” Rhaenyra said with a smile. She had a large familiar book of stories under one arm, a jug and two cups balanced in the other hand, the cups clamped under her arm against her side. She threw herself down on the heavily cushioned seat that had a permanent place beside your bed. The cushions were own and thin from the many visitors that came to wish the poor dragon princess well.

“I find it a relief that you are not the maester.” You said honestly. Rhaenyra gestured at the small table between your bed and her seat. The foods set out from dinner, that you refused to touch, were cleared away and replaced with foods your sister knew you favoured.

You still believe that they make you sick?” Rhaenyra asked as she poured you a drink from the jug she had brought with her. Taking it gratefully you drank deeply before answering.

“I have noticed that when I begin to feel better they fetch a specific medicine that had me ill again.” you said quietly. Rhaenyra nodded as she opened the book she had brought with her. 

“Perhaps I shall stay here then. Refuse to leave you!” She said boldly. You laughed and accepted a plate of food from the handmaiden. “We could ask for you to… to rest at Dragonstone.” 

“I have tried that. Last time I was getting better. Father started spending a lot of time with me and let Lyonel Strong take over leading the council.” You muttered. Rhaenyra looked up from the book, she’d been thumbing through looking for the story she knew you liked that was in the first quarter of the book. 

“Every time you get better Father does spend a lot of time with you… Do you think they keep you sick to keep him focused?” Rhaenyra asked you seriously. 

“I do not know.” You admitted. She gave you a sympathetic smile and leaned over to hold your hand.

“Corlys and Rhaenys arrive in a few days for the tourney. Perhaps they will agree to take you to Driftmark. We could say the sea air helps you to feel better.” Rhaenyra offered. You smiled appreciatively. 

“I asked for that before. Corlys offered and assured Father that Laena would be my loyal companion. The maesters wouldn’t allow it.” You muttered. Rhaenyra scoffed and shook her head.

“I shall speak to father. We shall ask Corlys and Rhaenys. Their Maesters will see what they think they should do and we shall see what the maesters at the Keep are up to.” Rhaenyra said quickly. She gave you a smile and a determined nod before reaching to refill your now-empty cup. You could see her mind turning over her ideas and plans as she finally found the page she was looking for and settled in to read aloud.

Tag list:

@the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @geekyandgay98 @savagemickey03 @evattude @kaitieskidmore1 @sabrinasstar @darklyndivinely

Marie Antoinette (2006) + Headpieces

Marie Antoinette's hats.

being the targtower’s youngest sister would include…

pairings: platonic!alicent hightower x daughter!reader, platonic!aegon targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!helaena targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!aemond targaryen x sister!reader

synopsis: what it’s like to be the youngest daughter of the green queen.

includes: reader being the only somewhat normal targtower, i went overboard on aegon’s are we surprised, might be ooc, sorry for how short alicent’s is i wasn’t feeling much inspo for her

a/n: one of my favorite things about alicent’s dynamic with her children is that they all represent a part of her: aegon, being used for politics, helaena, her innocence that she used to have, and aemond, her rage and thirst for power. so i decided to have reader represent alicent’s devotion to her family and her “duty”. hotd is so weird abt character ages so for my sanity aegon is 20, helaena is 18, aemond is 17, and reader is 16 in this. forget daeron pls

Alicent

Alicent has incredibly complicated relationships with her children. They are mirrors of her anguish, but her blood nonetheless. She will protect you and your siblings with her life, if necessary, but she also cannot look you in the eye without a pit of guilt settling in her stomach.

She feels nauseous when Viserys has you betrothed to a Lord from the Crownlands, but apart of her is satisfied with the match, though only because it means you will be allowed to stay in the Red Keep instead of leaving her.

She is just as gentle as she is with Helaena as she is with you. You are one of the only good things that have come from her. She cherishes you. When word of your pregnancy spreads through the Keep, Alicent orders an abundance of maternity gowns for you from Myr. She will always, without fail, offer you a guiding hand when going up large sets of stairs.

By all means, she is not a perfect mother, but she does what she can. She gifts you lots of her own accessories, like the hairnet she wore during Aegon’s second nameday celebration. Helaena is her “dearest love”, and you are her “sweetness.”

Trying to include you in her own private matters is one of the only ways she can spend time with you. She takes you to the Sept with her when she can, though her eyes are always averted from you.

That is one of the other strange things you’ve noticed about your mother; she can never make eye contact with you. Perhaps it is because you are with child just as she was at your age.

When the time comes, she cannot be by your side to hold your hand while you give birth. It’s improper. But she is overjoyed that both you and your son are healthy.

— “You have done well, my sweetness,” Your mother whispers, voice soft and melancholic and warm. Grand Maester Orwyle, bless him, had propped you up on great plush pillows after you’d finished your labors. He’d quietly congratulated you and helped you get comfortable in your bed, then had left you to rest.

She sits on the edge of your mattress, right by your side, thumb gingerly tracing your cheek. The forest green she’s clad in brings out the auburn of her hair. “The babe is a beautiful one. A handsome son for the realm. I am… proud of you.”

Articulating her thoughts has never been her strong point. It is the hour of the owl now. The only sounds you can hear are the padding of raindrops against the tall windows in your chambers and the crackling of the hearth.

“Aegon’s birth came quick for me as well,” She mutters, almost to herself. Peculiarly, she clings to the little ways you are alike to one another; they are fading as the days pass by. Her brows furrow as her mind begins to race.

Your firstborn sons’ births had come with ease. You were both married off far too early in your lives. In girlhood, you had both favored naive stories of brave knights and pretty ladies and romance. You both committed yourself to duty to further the family—

She stops the list she’s making in her head there. Far more resolutely than before, as if putting a wall around herself again, she kisses your forehead and retracts into herself.

“I shall leave you be. Good night.”

Aegon

For Aegon, news of a new sibling is unsurprising. It’s the same old thing to see his mother waddling around the castle, belly swollen. He’s a little indifferent when you’re born.

As a teen, though, Aegon is certainly the type to smack you a bit too hard in the training yard and then shush you, begging for you to hit him just as hard before you wail too loud and one of your mother’s handmaidens hear and alert her of it.

It makes him feel shameful, the first time you see him drunk, stinking of the whores of Flea Bottom and sweat. You promise to not tell anyone of it, if he, in exchange, does not do it again. He still does. You still do not tell.

After the events of Driftmark, you are the one to cut his hair short. Seeing Aemond bloody and bruised had frightened you, caused you to weep in front of the crowd in the great hall, and you’d tearfully asked Aegon if you could sleep in his bed together that night. He forces you to help him trim his waves the next morning as “repayment”, though he did not actually mind it.

You grow closer as you become older. To Aegon, you are the only one who has a semblance of faith in him; your mother was constantly repulsed by him, as was your grandsire and own father. Aemond had given up on him a long, long time ago, and Helaena focused on the children far more.

On his better days, Aegon likes to fly on your dragons together. Seeing you windswept and almost free is strangely satisfying for him; he misses when you both hadn’t been burdened by what your parents had put on you. In the dead of night, he likes to imagine what life would have been like if he hadn’t been forced to marry Helaena, and you your “fat, old husband”, as he put it.

Speaking of, he’d made a great fuss at your wedding. That was the angriest he’d ever saw you; he’d drunk himself half to death at the celebration afterward, made a fool of himself when he got into a fist fight with one of your husband’s brothers. Even the bards had stopped singing to stare at the spectacle. You’d almost lost your voice that night from how loud you’d yelled at him, asking when he’d ever think of anyone but himself, cheeks flushed from deep embarrassment.

“You know of my apprehension when it comes to large events such as these, and yet you cannot steel yourself for one night for my sake? What will you do when Jaehaera is married? Light the castle aflame?”

(You do not know the reason he’d done such a thing was to make such a big scene your consummation ceremony would be an afterthought. That, and the fact he was drunk and angry.)

Some part of him feels guilty when you get pregnant. He knows, deep down, that he had no part in it, and he could not control your fate, no matter if his efforts were weak or strong. But he was still your elder brother, was he not?

One day, while you sit in a rocking chair and he plays with the twins in their nursery, you tell him, “I should like for my son to be like you.” Aegon says, quietly, that yours will be better than he ever was, with you as his mother. He vanishes back into the Street of Silk soon after that.

One of his best qualities is being able to make light of anything, and he does just that after your labors, laughing at how disheveled you are and kissing your forehead. It’s hard not to laugh with him.

Days later, at his coronation, you are the first he looks to for approval, after your mother. The subtle nod you give him makes him wonder how you would’ve reacted if he had been successful in running to Essos. He hopes neither Aemond or Cole told you of what he’d said.

After becoming king, Aegon grows to value your input more and more. On his council, he feels you are the only one to genuinely listen to his concerns and thoughts when it comes to winning the war, and so he ignores the disapproving looks the men around him give him when you come to the meetings.

He does not mention your dragon when discussing battle plans, almost seems to ignore it when Lord Jasper brings you up; your dragon is great and strong, and he knows he will have to utilize you one day, but he refuses to think of it until it’s absolutely necessary. His mind has already been spoiled by what he has seen in brothels and taverns, and he imagines it will only further be by the sights of war. Aegon will do everything he can to avoid what happened to him happening to you.

The assassins Daemon hired infiltrate the Red Keep. They kill his son, leave with his head in a sack. Aegon rages and drinks and rages. He will not allow even you to see his tears, but he cannot stop them from soaking the cloth of your dress when you hug him tenderly, as if afraid he’ll slip through your hands like sand.

Bile floods into his mouth when Otto suggests wheeling his son’s body through the city to secure the approval of the smallfolk. The image of you insisting on going instead of his mother is burned into his brain. “If you will force Helaena, then at least spare Mother and allow me to go,” You’d begged. It does nothing.

As foolish as he can be, Aegon is also not one to forget what others have done for him. You were the only one who’d taken his side against your grandfather. He is glad he was not forced to marry you, glad that he did not force you to a brothel as he did Aemond; he is glad that he has not ruined you.

Aegon’s visits to your child become less and less frequent. He loves the boy dearly, like he’s his own, but he cannot stand to look at him. It’s only a reminder of what happened to his little Jaehaerys.

Rook’s Rest destroys him. He does not even need to tell you that it was Aemond who did it, you just seem to know. There is no way for him to verbalize that he is listening to you while he is in his milk-of-the-poppy induced coma, but he does appreciate the stories you tell him while sitting at his bedside.

He specifically forbids you from looking at him while the Maesters change out his bandages, but he’ll allow you to sit on the other end of his bed with your back to him and hold his unburnt hand while they do so.

— “I feel a monster,” He admits to you one night while you light a candle on the stand next to his bed. You’re clad in a warm nightgown; many whisper that winter is coming, and it’s hard not to notice with how cold the breezes have been lately.

“Why is that?”

“You know why.”

You can’t even fight the scoff that comes from you, and you turn back to him with a frown etched deeply into your face. “You should not. You are king.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “That did not stop our cunt of a brother from burning me like the Conqueror did Harrenhal.”

Huffing, you smooth out your dress, then walk to the other side of the bed and slowly crawl on. You’re careful not to move around too much, so as to not cause him any more injury, and sit next to him, back against the headboard. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs. His eyes are slightly glossy when they meet yours.

He takes a sharp breath. “…If it had been my decision, I would have named you regent.”

You laugh incredulously at that, shaking your head. “They set aside Mother for Aemond. They would have forced you to do the same.”

Aegon raises his remaining silver brow. “I am not as feeble and weak-minded as Father. I speak truly. It is you I trust the most.”

Helaena

Helaena is perhaps the least expressive out of all of your siblings, but even she felt happy when Mother’s babe had come a girl.

She does genuinely appreciate that you do not judge her and make fun of her behind her back; she has never felt like she has been able to fit in with her ladies-in-waiting.

As mature as she is, Helaena does like to indulge girlishly sometimes; she enjoys matching her gowns with you, as well as hairstyles and (light, so as to not overstimulate her) jewelry.

Observant and introspective, Helaena also has a great memory. If you tell her you’ve had a fascination with direwolves as of late, or have particularly enjoyed reading about Valyrian history, suddenly the dresses she gifts you will subtly be embroidered with subtle little wolf icons or ancient Valyrian imagery. She is very thoughtful.

Unbeknownst to most, she also gives very good advice. There have only been a handful of times her council has not helped you. Wise and empathetic, she is, and she is always willing to listen to you explain your troubles while she plays with one of her bugs.

It pains her to see you inflicted with the same fate as she was; married off to a man you had no love for, forced to be his incubator. Just as it was during Aegon’s coronation, her head is bowed at your wedding. She does not want to look at your doom.

Despite this, she is perhaps the most supportive of you during your pregnancy; she likes suggesting names for the babe as well as crafting him little clothes for him to wear when he is born.

Although you do not understand her prophecies, it does quell her anxieties a bit that you at least listen to them instead of dismissing them like all else do.

When noise gets to be too much for her, you are the first to cover her ears with your hands, guiding her to the lush gardens of the Keep to breathe. You are the only person she has a likeness of boundaries with; when she does not want to be touched, you leave her be. It’s why you are the sibling she is fondest of.

Her hand immediately flies to grasp yours when Meleys erupts from the boards at Aegon’s coronation. The look on her face had confused you. She’d appeared fearful, but simultaneously also put at ease, as if she’d known that this was going to happen.

After Blood and Cheese, she cannot find rest at night. She takes to pacing about the Red Keep, almost looking like a ghost; pale and silver and paranoid. Despite the fact that it distracts you from your own slumber, you insist on her staying in your chambers with you. She still paces, never sleeps. Some nights you even walk with her around the castle.

— “This one will not live,” She blurts out randomly, interrupting you from one of your tangents, confusing you. She never interrupts you, always listens to whatever your qualms are for the day without complaint.

“What?”

You feel like you’re about to burst; partly from the grand lamb you had for your midday meal and from how heavy the babe in your belly feels. She seems surprised that the words had actually come out of her mouth.

She pushes her face closer to the fly she has somehow managed to capture in her palm, a perturbed glint in her eye. “I do not think this one will survive.”

You decide to indulge her, tilting your head to the side from where you sit across from her, lounging on a velvet sofa. “Why is that?”

“The art of the spider is subtle. It shall trap another in its web.”

(Later that day, you can only wonder if she was speaking of Lord Vaemond after he’d been beheaded by Prince Daemon from behind.)

Aemond

Aemond can barely remember the day you were born, much less the day a celebration had been held for Mother’s pregnancy.

Alike to his siblings, Aemond is not one to forget what you did for him when you were children; how you always offered to take him on rides on your dragon before he’d claimed Vhagar, how you were the only one uninvolved in the “pink dread” incident, how you cried for him after he lost his eye.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond begins to put a wall around himself. Unfortunately, that does include you. Before Driftmark, you were closest with him, but afterward, you had slowly drifted toward Aegon; nevertheless, he shows his affection for you in his own way.

However, he does keep the little gifts you’ve given him over the years safely hidden in his chambers, away from the eyes of curious maids and servants, like the eyepatch you’d embroidered a little Vhagar in in the weeks after his eye was cut out.

When Vaemond’s head is cut off, Aemond immediately places a hand on the pommel of his sword, lest Daemon himself attack you next. When he becomes regent, he is the one who orders you to be given a sworn protector. He is the one who’d help you learn Valyrian when you struggled, even after all your lessons.

Aemond never, never shows much affection to anyone in the family publicly, but he doesn’t mind it if you place a hand on his forearm or his own hand. He prefers it if you keep things like cheek or forehead kisses private in the sanctity of your or his own room.

In his immediate family, you are perhaps the most normal of all, which does make him seek out your company the most. The mornings after he seeks out Madame Sylvi’s assistance are the mornings he spends the most time with you. The shame of it all almost eats him alive, and you are a welcome distraction.

Additionally, the one-eyed prince does genuinely appreciate how you show your devotion to the family, though of course he’d never verbalize it. Almost every training yard session he has, you sit on the balcony, embroidering a dress or two while he swings his sword at Criston’s morningstar.

Your wedding to some old Crownlands lord was a memorable one, mostly because of when Aegon had pinned your new brother-by-law to a table and began beating him senselessly. Aemond was the one who had pried him off, mercilessly tugging him by the collar of his doublet away from the man.

You become pregnant quick. Aemond says that when your son is born, he will bring him to meet Vhagar himself, stating that a “new Targaryen babe should learn the ways of his predecessors”.

As the moons pass by, the Maesters order you to bedrest. Your elder brother likes to visit during his free time, sometimes bringing a book with him to read or nothing, just to converse with you quietly. You are the only “quiet” Aemond has ever known.

When Rhaenys bursts through the boards at Aegon’s coronation, Aemond’s palm finds your wrist, gently grasping it with his long fingers.

Just as your mother does, you begin to shun Aemond after Luke’s murder. It does not make him resent you as much as it does Alicent, but it does make him spiral a bit quicker.

Many a time have you slept in Aemond or Aegon’s bed because of nightmares. The only time he’s ever slept in yours was the night Aegon had found him in the brothel with Sylvi. You had not been awake when he’d crawled into bed with you, just laying beside you and shutting his eye. He makes sure to leave before you wake. Aemond does not know that you were quite aware of his presence, but had chosen not to say anything. If Aemond of all people had decided to find sleep in your bed, something awful must’ve happened. Why take that moment of respite from him?

He knows that you know he burned Aegon, but he does not ever bring it up in a conversation with you, much less acknowledge it. However, Aemond is observant. He notices the fearful glint in your eye when he is around you, now, but this is what he has always wanted, has he not? To rule?

— Aemond is with you the morn after Blood and Cheese, standing in one of the Red Keep’s balconies as you watch the wagon carrying your mother and Helaena depart. Your eyes are sunken in from crying, cheeks swollen; you wear a veil of mourning yourself, though there is no crown settled on your head. The way you lean over the railing to peer at the ground, the way your back is hunched, the way you grieve so openly.. it does not befit a princess. It does not befit someone from the Targaryen family, someone who is supposed to use honeyed words and cunning tricks to protect themself from the environment of King’s Landing.

You sniffle. “Where were you?”

Aemond’s eye goes wide. A deep pit was already settled in his stomach, but it only seems to get worse at your questioning. Even his throat seems to tighten up, make it impossible for him to even choke out an answer.

“When news of… the boy spread,” You begin, “I went to find you myself. But you were not in your chambers, nor in the library. Where were you?”

“Patrolling.” It’s an obvious lie. He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth, jaw clenching immediately. There was no use in patrolling at night, when he could barely see anything. His hand unconsciously squeezes the stone railing.

He’s ready to leave with haste when you nod to yourself, face blank and detached from reality. “…I won’t tell anyone,” You mutter, just loud enough for him to hear. “Wherever you were.”

Yandere House Velaryon Headcanons (Platonic)

“The Old, the True, the Brave.” — House Velaryon.

❝ 🐉 — lady l: First of all, Happy Halloween to whoever celebrates it! Have a great and scary day, I’ll be watching some horror movies to get in the mood, but I had to finish this first. I intend, after doing the Hightower ones, to post a hc of all the Houses platonically yandere by the reader together, but until then, I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! Oh, and once again, have a great Halloween!! 🎃

❝tw: yandere themes, possessive and obsessive behavior, unhealthy platonic relationships, child being abandoned by its parents, mention of torture, murder, war and blood.

❝🐉 pairing: yandere!platonic house velaryon x gender neutral!reader.

❝word count: +2k.

You came to the Velaryon family’s embrace in a very convenient way for them, your family abandoned you after they were unable to raise another child. You were left adrift, exposed to all the dangers that surrounded a poor family and you, so young and naive, believed your parents would come for you. And in a way, your parents came to get you, only it was Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen. It was Laenor who found you and brought you to their parents, he was only a few years older than you and he fell in love with you and knew he had to take care of you. As Laenor expected, everyone in his family took a liking to you and started referring to you as (Y/N) Velaryon, child of Corlys and Rhaenys, younger sister/brother of Laenor and Laena Velaryon. They have become your new family and they will be the only family you will ever know.

Corlys is the proudest father there is for you, he is loving, protective and completely obsessed with you. He is an adventurous and ambitious man, Corlys wants nothing but the best for you and he knows that even the best will not be enough for you. The man will definitely take you on all adventures with him, even over his wife’s protest, he just wants you to have fun and make the most of your life. He will spoil you, let you hear him and he will hear you too and he will let you know absolutely everything and he is against you getting married, even if it will benefit the Velaryon family, he still doesn’t want to and won’t do it. You can always count on him, as his father will do everything in his power to fulfill his wishes.

Rhaenys pours all her love over you, loving and caring for you with her whole being. She is a very loving mother, but she also has her temper, but don’t worry, she will never take her frustrations out on you. Rhaenys will definitely pamper you and always assure her of her love for you, she will raise you as if you were a princess/prince because she knows that this is what you deserve. She is a brash and fierce woman when needed, you and everyone else must never forget that she has dragon blood coursing through her veins, and she is more than willing to make everyone understand that they owe you due respect, for you it’s her child and she won’t accept any kind of spite. You know you can always count on her for everything, she is her biggest company most of the time and there are no secrets between you.

Laena is the caring and protective older sister, she always takes time to spend with you. She, like her mother, is brash and daring and she always takes you with her for walks hidden from her parents, as she knows they will be worried if you leave Driftmark without them. Laena is extremely overprotective of you, she is against you getting married and will challenge every one of your suitors, be they male or female, and will most likely win, since she will have her brother’s help in this. She loves taking you with her to fly in Vhagar because she knows how much it makes you happy. Seeing her smile is a top priority for her and she knows she will regret not making you happy, Driftmark’s Delight.

Laenor is the typical big brother who wants to be a role model, he wants you to look up to him and will be honored if you want to follow in his footsteps. He is easily jealous if anyone else has your admiration, as he wishes to be the only one to have it. Laenor would love to teach you how to fight, because he believes, regardless of gender, you should always know how to defend yourself. He’d drag you to all sorts of parties and tournaments, just for you to see him win and have you laugh and have fun next to him. He, like Laena, is protective and will be annoyed if you have feelings for someone and will most likely challenge that person to a duel. All to protect his honor and his beloved little sister/little brother.

Vaemond is an ambitious man and very proud of his family lineage and to have you, an ordinary orphan, be given the surname Velaryon is a great insult to him and his house. He insists and tries to convince Corlys that this is all a big mistake, that you’re a big mistake but his brother doesn’t care about any of it and claims that if Vaemond says one more word about you, he’ll be kicked out of Driftmark. Vaemond was silent for now, so he himself decided to investigate you and why everyone is so obsessed with you. To his surprise, it didn’t take long for him to become just as obsessed with you as the others. He will play the role of a fun and ambitious uncle, ambitious as he still aspires to become Head of House Velaryon and even his love for you won’t stop him from achieving that.

They are all obsessed and protective of you in a similar way and they don’t intend to let you go. Corlys is the most controlling, he knows what’s best for you and he won’t have anyone, not even you, questioning his decisions when it comes to deciding your life, because he loves you and he knows what he’s doing will just get you. benefit in the future. Rhaenys is the fiercest of them all, she is not afraid to stand up to anyone for you and that includes her own husband, she will question his actions if they make you upset, her mother will always be here for you. Laena and Laenor are alike in many ways, they are fun and protective of the youngest member of their family and won’t let a scratch come your way. Vaemond is ambitious and unreliable, but he cares and takes care of you, he has learned to love you like his own child and will do anything for you.

You have immense power over this family and that is clear to everyone around you. Corlys and Rhaenys will pamper and love you immensely, they are your parents and they want only the best for you, you will have everything you want from the finest dresses and jewelry to the most expensive ship, everything to your liking and happiness. Laena wants to be your best friend, she is your best friend, she absolutely adores you and would die for you, you are the sister/brother she loves so much and knows she can’t live without. Laenor is the classic competitive and showy older brother, he likes to show himself to you and he does on many occasions, he won’t say it out loud but he craves your approval and attention and he will do anything to get them. Vaemond is a protective and loving uncle to you, but just for you, he will pamper and take care of you whenever he gets the chance, it is very common to see him around you, murmuring sweet and kind words to you, all the best. for you only. All members of House Velaryon desire one thing in common: your love and approval.

When the war on Stepstones breaks out, Corlys, Laenor and Vaemond want to take you with them, but Laena and Rhaenys object, claiming that you will be safer in Driftmark with them. There’s a lot of discussion about this, and it’s Corlys who gives the final stop and you’ll come with them, because he knows he’ll be able to protect you, Laenor and Vaemond agree with that decision. In Stepstones, you are kept out of reach where the battle rages. You will be exposed to the violence of war, of the massacres committed and even then you will not be allowed to leave until they are victorious. You will witness their victory, while receiving letters from Laena and Rhaenys concerned about you. If only you were with them, a lot of trauma could be avoided at such a young age.

A lot of things change over the course of a few years, Laena dies due to complications in childbirth and you are a mess, your beloved older sister has passed away and your parents and brother pour out all the anguish and pain on you looking for comfort. Unfortunately, you were unaware that later, Laenor would ‘die’ as well and when this tragic news reaches your ears, despair settles in you, as does the pain of yet another loss. Corlys and Rhaenys were heartbroken at the loss of two children and they turned to you, the only child left. Seeing your eyes filled with tears, they ran into your arms, comforting you and also seeking the care and love of their only surviving child. After Laena and Laenor died, your parents became even more protective and possessive of you, you are the only child they have left and they won’t let anything happen to you. Never.

After these tragic events, things only got worse for you and your yandere family. Corlys went to Stepstones to fight in another war, but you remained with Rhaenys in Driftmark, as you chose to do so and your father respected your decision. When news reached you and your mother that Corlys was seriously injured and could be dying, the question of Drfitmark’s succession was questioned by Vaemond. Rhaenys claimed that Driftmark would go to you or her grandchildren Luceyrs, Baela or Rhaena, but Vaemond contested claiming he should be the heir. When they turned to you for support, you chose to side with Rhaenys, against Vaemond and he didn’t take it very well. This whole matter was taken to King’s Landing to be settled and you were with the three families, the Targaryens and the Hightowers, who seemed particularly interested in you, but that was left aside when Viserys entered the room and announced that the Driftmark would be passed on to you. Corlys’ grandson, Luceyrs Velaryon. Your uncle Vaemond did not accept this decision, and even after you tried to stop him, he called Rhaenyra’s children bastards, which led to him being beheaded by Daemon. Seeing your uncle’s lifeless body, you clung to Rhaenys, trying to rid yourself of this terrible sight.

When Viserys died, you and your mother were still in King’s Landing and you were both locked in your rooms by Alicent, who said she hoped to receive your support for Aegon’s succession, something you both denied. You and Rhaenys managed to escape the Red Keep and were present at Aegon II’s coronation, your mother pulled you with her and took you to ride Meleys with her and after breaking into the coronation she said nothing and took you to Dragonstone, to warn Rhaenyra of Viserys’ death and her throne being usurped. You were welcomed and received word that Corlys was sailing to Dragonstone, where you met her father with a warm embrace. He said he would never part with you again and that after he recovered you would live in Driftmark and not participate in the war to come, but Rhaenys said they needed to help Rhaenyra, which you agreed to. Which led Corlys to declare support for the Blacks.

The War is yet to break out and all you know is that you are not allowed to participate, Corlys and Rhaenys already have lost two beloved children and they will not lose another one, you will be kept safe and taken care of at all times. They’ve become paranoid about you, even the slightest scratch drives them crazy and they can’t have you dead. They would not survive one more loss, the loss of their precious and beloved child. You cannot leave them, not even in death.

Being the daughter of Laena Velarion

Laena Velarion x daughter reader (platonic)

Reader is the daughter of Laena and Daemon

-Laena will instantly love you. She had always wanted a girl and she would end up with three! From the moment you are born she is desperate to hold you. You grandparents will be nearby to see the baby, their first grandchild to have their blood. Now there is Daemon. Daemon clearly has expectation he wants his kids to live up to. Unfortunately if you are not living up to those expectations then his attention will mostly be on Baela. In this case Laena will mostly be the one to step in.

You and your sister Rhaena were both curled up on your mothers lap, listening to the crackle of the fire. Baela and your father were in the next room reading some rare ancient Valyrian scroll. Although Daemon Targaryen was not an absent father it was clear Baela was the main source of his attention. She was a scholar, warrior, orator of articulate words and a dragonrider. Rhaena and yourself could claim no such titles. Laena hummed some old tune from her childhood. You caught some of the words, your Valarian was lacking. Laena's fingers ran through your braids. Eyes closed and you allowed yourself to be lulled into a deep sleep.

-Laena's idea of a good time is a nice long walk on the beach and a picnic, especially on visits to Driftmark. But as much as she loves some quiet the festivals taking place in the market place at Pentos are what bring her the most joy. The entire family will head out to the market and revel in the festivities. Your childhood is filled with lots of traveling and adventures. Laena loves to dance with you, leading you by your little hands.

The sun hammered down on the busy crowd below. Music drifted through the heir as colourful silks fluttered amongst the hectic to-and-fro. In the centre was a mother and her daughter dancing to the music. Laena took the lead, twirling her little girl about. Laena picked her daughter in into the air. Y/n sqealed with delight as the salty air tickled her skin. People stopped to stair, watching some of the last Valarians dancing about.

-On days were no one feels like going out Laena loves to to sit by the fire and drink a warm drink her mother use to make. Pillows and blankets will be set up. As the rain pitter-patters on the ground you stay safely inside. It feels nice be protected by the elements. Laena will wrap an arm around your body as you curl up next to her. The five of you (including Daemon and your sisters) will sit around and listen to his stories about Old Valyria.

"Daenys Targaryen recived a vision from the Valyrian Gods, our Gods. And in that dream she saw Valyria in flames. Smoke choked the life of entire bloodlines, dragons fell from the sky and the worlds greatest civilization ended. Except house Targaryen. Aenar Targaryen chose to leave his home and all he knew, with the last dragons of Old Valyria. And there they stayed on their island. Until Aegon the Conqueror." Baela was already asleep in her fathers arms. You and Rhaena were leaning on your mother, moments from sleep. As your fathers soft voice and mothers warmth surrounded you, sleep came over.

Here's the idea what if bastardreader just straight up decided yeah I'm dipping because of this!

It's like her birthday right? And the thing is though she just wants a simple birthday but of course her family goes all out and she feels overwhelmed and the thing is though the thing that breaks the camel's back is the fact that one of the noble ladies has spread of rumor about her being well let's just say w and she did not take that kindly and she decided yeah I'm going to be nice kidding I'm not going to be nice so she just grabs a glass of wine and just straight up dumped it on her I'm just exposes her right there and she just leaves the room because she's just so done!.

So basically how I imagine it though is that she basically gets dressed in a nice black dress and the dress though has like big yet small pearls on her chest like I don't know how to describe it but like it's almost like one of those chest accessories and she wears this nice black shoes such as boots to make it easier for her and basically just at the final touch of pearl the thingy or whatever

And yeah also those are like the gloves for the reader's dress and by the way the reader just decided to just take cannibal and they both just rolled off in the night to go chill together and plus she went to go to her comfort place because it's better than being there so yeah how do you think it would play out and how do you think they react though oh yeah by the way the reader returns basically just walking back to her room and trying to take off the stuff that she got don't worry she ate and she fine and she also has very nice pearl earrings yeah

Daemon was about to do it himself (perhaps nick a bit off the top of her hair, if you catch my drift), but before he can, you take matters into your own hands and he's so proud <3

He's unfazed as he watches the noblewoman shriek and shudder as wine soaks her ornate hair and dress, sputtering and glaring around, hopeful to see the royal family act upon this disgraceful behaviour. (Rhaenyra is pointedly staring at the woman in anger, and Daemon is calmly sipping his wine).

Rhaenyra would probably go after you to comfort you, as Daemon attends to the rude guest who insulted his daughter. Now unlike Daemon, who would've forbidden you going out alone, Rhaenyra is sympathetic. She knows what it's like feeling suffocated, and atop she's feeling a little deflated for overwhelming you. She just wanted everyone to know how adored you are.

Before you can attempt to plead for her to let you leave, she helps clasp your dress up and fix your hair. Speaking softly over your shoulder to not stay out too late, and to take caution with straying too far, all with a softened and anxious smile. Her hands grasp at your arms and stray there for a lingering moment, like she's fighting herself to not let you go- but she does, eventually.

Cannibal is more than happy when he spots you approaching, awakening him from his slumber as you call his name. He lumbers over and lets you clamber on, taking to the skies and the stars, and wherever you see fit for some quiet time. (Cannibal loves quiet time).

Your siblings would be anxious once your mother discreetly announces that you've left, Jace especially is eager to follow and make sure you're under his watchful eye- but his mother forbids him with a single hard look and sympathetic squeeze upon his bicep. As if to tell him to stay put. You'll be back, and much more content.

Daemon and Alicent are the most reactive when you arrive.

Alicent is pale and shaken, smoothing over your wind tussled hair and searching for any injuries or wounds, like a worrisome hen over her chick. Don't do that again, she'll stress, breathing in relief once you're back in the castle safe and in one piece. You may trust your dragon, but she does not. The whole time you were gone she couldn't help but configure all the horrible things that could happen to you out there alone on that monster of a dragon. What if you fell? Into the ocean to drown, or pummeled towards the ground like a stone? She hates that you ride without a saddle on that wild beast. She'll want to see you to bed herself, just to make sure you're alright.

Daemon is... Disappointed. A concerned and stern dad who's just caught his daughter sneaking back into the house at 3am after partying, basically lol

You could have very well found peace in your room. Where you could be kept under watch and protection. Not lumbering off on that old wild dragon of yours. Who's to say you won't try to make a run for it? Then he'll have to go through the hassle of getting you back. It's unlikely he'll sleep at all until you get back, even if you attempt to slither back into the castle at 3-4 in the morning, you'll find waiting by the entrance with crossed arms and a firm look on his face. He may scold you, his voice even and calm and his gaze cold and calculated, but he was worried.

Rhaenyra had to talk him down from trying to follow after you with Caraxes. He would not stop pacing for hours until your return.

As you casually walk back to your room, fixing your wind tussled hair and jewellery, you'll probably get followed back by Jace and Luke (Jace is scolding you whilst Luke tries to hug you)

Whilst Rhaenyra and Alicent trail behind. Both eager to see you to bed, tolerating one another's presence for just a little longer. (The tension would be crazy)

The Favorite.

summary: Alicent has always loved her youngest daughter most. Too much, perhaps. — This is intended to focus on the relationship between Alicent and daughter!reader but will eventually dive into some Jace x reader (maybe some Baela x reader too idk yet) and platonic!yan green family in the following parts.

cw: codependent mother-daughter relationship, mentions of childbirth, pregnancy, alicent is on some weird shit about her favorite child, platonic!yan!alicent

notes: reader is said to resemble alicent, as in her hair and eye color.

word count: 2.7k

When Queen Alicent ended her labors, exhausted, delirious and filled with an anticipatory dread she’d come to know was unavoidable; she heard the maester say, “a healthy princess, my queen.” She had grimaced then as the child’s cries filled the air but the babe was pushed into her limp arms which almost refused her. There, laid upon her breast, was her daughter…with features so like hers. It felt unreal, she had been prepared to bear another princeling with a smattering of fuzzy silver hair to form his crown. To remind her of whom their sire was. But as you laid against her, cooing irritably at the noise in the room and squinting at her with those eyes she knew so well, she fell in love. Weakly, in her milk of the poppy haze, she thought on the moments of her pregnancy where she’d felt so uncomfortable, so ready for the babe to leave and return her body to her. It could be said that in that moment it was the rush of hormones and the dregs of milk of the poppy still ravaging her system but suddenly, regretted those feelings sorely. No, she should have cherished the time when you were safely tucked away for herself. When you were more hers than you’d ever be again.

She held onto that for years. The ache of separateness she’d never felt for any one of her children before. The love for her other children had always come so late in comparison. With you, it was so easy.

Until it wasn’t so. You hadn’t yet flowered but you’d grown so fast. The ache intensified, the stirring need to have you back where you belonged, closer to her heart — very nearly killed her every time she saw you. Even so, she would still rather be with you than your siblings. She couldn’t be with you as much as she had when you were but a babe and she could take you anywhere in her arms without scrutiny. She was preoccupied with the needs and antics of your elder siblings who always seemed to be in need of something they could not or otherwise would not give themselves. It was exhausting. The ache was a reprieve in itself from the monumental exhaustion of dealing with your, though beloved to be sure, very high maintenance siblings. It was pleasant. Everything about being a mother was as tender as a wound, it could never be wholly pleasant. But there was something so addictive in it when it was you. She never felt so close to the Mother as when she held you.

In your chambers just after you’ve bathed and dressed in your nightgown, she arrived at the side of your bed to kiss your forehead gently, a gesture reserved for you. “Tell me what you’ve learned from your Septa today,” she softly instructed, stroking your hair. It has gotten so long, so soft and so lovely to twirl about her fingers. It’s a habit she developed. “Did you practice your letters?”

You nodded, looking up at her. “Yes, she says I’ve gotten much better.”

“Good job,” she praised, a soft smile on her lips. “Perhaps I don't have to read to you nearly as much now.” A lie. She'd read to you until the end of the world, even if you no longer needed her to, so long as she can be near you. Her eyes slipped shut momentarily, a quiet sigh escaping her lips as her hands continued to stroke your hair in a lulling rhythm.

You pouted slightly, in a way she might've reprimanded you for, had you been your elder sister. "But I like you reading to me."

You feel her arms wrap around you, folding you into her embrace, unable to resist. “Would you like me to read now?” she murmurs, kissing the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed, still slightly dampened hair.

"Yes, please." So pleasing and charming you were when you said it. Oh, she could hardly get your siblings to simply mutter the words meaninglessly!

"Very well," she said softly, but the warmth in her voice made it more than a simple 'yes', her other children would never know she could offer anything but a resigned, "here" that came with an exasperated sigh. She settled in next to you.

"What shall it be tonight?" She asked, her thumb stroking your cheek, her voice holding a level of patience that could only come from the love she has for you. "The Seven Pointed Star?" You hummed your assent.

She opened the tome, her eyes scanning the words for a moment before she begins.

"The Seven Who Are One…" Your mother's voice sung out in a soft lilt, the words soft, the pace measured and gentle. As she speaks you feel yourself relaxing, and falling deeper into her embrace. You could lose yourself with her. Your eyes closed as she read on. Her words fell into a rhythm and her voice carries a soothing tune. You feel drawn inward. The world is just you and your mother.

Alas, she’d had to leave you after you fell asleep, to check on her other, more tumultuous children. It was a mournful fact that because you were her youngest and regardless of being her most beloved, she was still forced to give less of her time to you. But she returned before you woke and when you opened your eyes, your mother was there sitting beside you in your bed. “Good morning, sweetling.” she said, and she snuggled you in her arms, just holding you. She gazed at you, studying your face. “You slept for a while, it is already late morning, I wasn’t sure if you would wake.”

“Good morning.” You rubbed at your tired eyes. “I slept deeply, I suppose…” you muttered.

Alicent knew this. Of course she did, she was watching you for a while. “You've always slept heavily. Even as a babe, you would fall sound asleep with just a bit of rocking.” A small smile curled at her lips, her voice soft and motherly. “I used to worry that you’d never awaken, when you were a babe. I could never tell the difference between your sleeping and your death.”

That earned her a small, dreamy smile from your lips. “You were fussing over me even then?”

Her ensuing laughter was rich, and her eyes crinkling at the edges. “Oh, my sweetling, of course I was.” Her tone grew more serious then, and she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I worried for you every single day.”

“You worry now.”

“I know. And I know you think me foolish, but I do.” Her voice held the weight of her heart, the weight of years of anxiety. She strokes your hair, her hands gentle as they run through your locks. “I know you're nearly a woman grown, but I cannot help it. You are my daughter, my youngest. My little one.”

“I would not wish to leave your side,” you tried to assure her.

She sighed. “I would be wroth to see you ever leave my side. I cannot stomach it.” She kisses the top of your head. “I don’t know how I will do it if you are wed outside of our house. I feel my heart break just thinking of it.”

“Mine as well.” It was true, you truly could not imagine being away from your mother’s side. You did not particularly desire either of your silly elder brothers but the idea of marrying them held a certain comfort as it meant you’d get to stay with your mother. You were certain to die if you had to leave her behind.

“They tell me not to dote upon you, and to prepare you for life. But I can only see you as my child. I suppose I will forever.” She looked at you with a somewhat haunted expression, and her hand moved to cup your cheek.

“I enjoy you doting on me. Your company is a comfort.”

"I am glad," she smiled, her fingers threading through your hair. "When I'm not around, I worry that the world will be harsh to you, that it will swallow you whole and break you. I did not have…my mother with me when I left my home for good. But you have me. You are mine, and I wish to keep you safe."

She bit her lip before continuing. “I would have kept you in my womb until we turned to dust, would that I could. I know it is foolish but I miss it terribly. There we had nothing to fear. I protected you from the outside. You lived in a realm of safety, of comfort. No one could ever touch you there. No one could ever hurt you."

The concept intrigued you. The life you led, of scrutiny and pending obligation, could leave you feeling so exposed, a wound open to the air. “The world is much too loud now that I’m in it. I do miss being so close to you.” You obviously couldn't remember, not like she did, but you could imagine. You could imagine yourself curled into her, held by her, never needing anything but that...and the thought was an enticing one.

“I miss it more,” Alicent whispers. Tears welled in her eyes. “I know it is foolish of me, but when I see a woman with a child in her belly, I cannot help but be reminded of you, I cannot help but envy her.” Her voice was sullen, her gazed fixed on you. “I miss those kicks against my womb, and I miss the way you would curl into yourself. I wish I could bring us back.” Revising history is something the queen has gotten quite good at doing, she cannot recall— or at least won’t admit to, those same feelings of helplessness, lethargy and slight dissociation that had returned with each pregnancy. All of it has been replaced, memories tinged in the feeling of yearning she carries now.

“It would be just us two,” you whispered, your chest tightening slightly with an unfortunate longing to return to her.

"Forever. That would have been a very good life, my sweetling. A peaceful one." A tear trickled down her cheek, this time, though, she did not even try to wipe it away. You reached out to wipe her tear away, delicately with your thumb and the gesture was so soft, she thinks. Softer than any touch she had ever felt. It overwhelmed her to the point of trembling.

“Thank you.” Her voice was slightly raspy. You are truly beautiful to her in the candlelight, and even though you are a girl almost grown, she still sees you as the babe you were when you were first pushed into her arms, so many nights ago. “You have a very soft touch."

“Of course, I learned from you,” you said easily and Alicent had to look closely at your expression to be certain you aren’t just being jovial at her expense. But she was relieved and vaguely ashamed to find that you are entirely sincere without a hint of irony in all of your being.

She was speechless for a moment. Alicent was no longer gentle, she didn’t think she had that in her anymore. Her whole being felt sharp, ready to bleed. Even with her own children, she was seldom the mother she’d have imagined herself to be before she was married, especially with Aegon who she so struggled to even want to be gentle with. She’d forgotten that all the gentleness she possessed was not lost but had simply been redirected into you. It shamed her, it relieved her.

She decided that it was true, even if later she’d be deep her self loathing and rebuke the notion. For now, your softness was owed to the kind of mother she’d been to you. “That is true.” She laughed softly, feeling the high of your praise overwhelm her wariness. Her hands returned to playing in your hair, wafting the scent of soap and the warm musk of your skin toward her. Oh, that scent…When she come to visit your chambers just after you left them, she’d smell your pillows, your sheets, unable to help herself. It always unlocked some beastly sort of satisfaction inside her. She had even saved a little gown of yours from when you were a babe, unwilling to part with the scent of your skin. Back then, she’d attributed it to you being so young, to the bodily mysteries of a mother still fresh from labor but it had lingered. “You have such a sweet smell, my girl. I have always loved your scent.”

“I know. My handmaid told me you used to smell me a lot when I was a babe.”

So her strangeness had not gone unnoticed. “That I did. The smell of your sweet skin…” You could tell she got lost in a memory for a bit, and her face grew nostalgic. “I loved your scent so much. There was nothing like it.”

“Every day, I would smell your skin. I would kiss your cheeks and your little fingers…” Her words trailed off as she smiled, remembering. “You still have the same scent now. I would know it anywhere.”

“You were enamored with me,” you said, grinning as you stretched out in bed like a lazy cat.

She laughed softly. “I really was. You were a beautiful babe, so perfect and delicate in my eyes. I never wanted to let you out of my sight.” She remembered her father admonishing her for refusing to leave you with the maids, her near in tears trying to make him understand that this was different and him simply not willing to understand how the love of a fourth child, a girl, could have driven his daughter so utterly mad.

“I know. Grandsire says you took me everywhere with you.”

“That I did,” she confirmed, sighing softly. “I did not want anyone else to hold you.”

“Why not?” You had yet to truly address the severity of your mother’s preoccupation with you. To you, it was only love. You could not understand its implications or its logic.

“Because I did not trust anyone else with you.” She whispered. “I could not bear the thought of even leaving you with a maid, not for long anyway. You are my child, and I did not want anyone but me to care for you or see to your needs.”

“Oh, but it must have been such work!”

“All children are work, a lot of it,” she insisted. “But you were— you are a good kind of work. You gave me something to focus on besides all my other obligations. You were my little princess, always with me, and always wanting my attention. It was tiring, but I would not have had it any other way.” You made her feel the kind of love her first chance at motherhood should have brought her. You made her feel like a mother in the way the gods intended.

“That is very sweet.” It was more than sweet. It warmed your heart to hear from your mother that the work she has put into raising you, into keeping you — she saw it all as worth the trouble.

“It’s the truth. I have never loved anything more than you.”

“I’m glad for it. Glad to be deserving of it.”

Oh, your sweet little heart! Her hand cupped your face, and her fingers stroked your soft, delicate cheek, her eyes meeting yours. “You are far greater than deserving. You were perfect when you arrived, and you only became more beautiful as you grew older.”

You looked down, slightly bashful. “You’re beautiful too, mother.”

Your words bring on the fiercest of longing. Tears of joy and perhaps bitterness trickled from her eyes. "You are the sweetest daughter a mother could ask for. I love you so very much."

She is near breaking into a fit of sobs, breathing deeply to calm herself, blinking away her tears before she speaks again. "Sometimes I wish I could turn back time, and have those days again. The days where we could be wrapped up in each other, and the world was just us two."

And as your eyes light at the words, she cannot resist anymore. She brings you into her arms, your head resting against her breasts and her leaning down to kiss your head, breathing in your smell yet again. In a few years at latest, she’d wed you to one of your brothers and keep you safe within her watch. Then everything would be alright, you’d be safe only when there was promise you could stay with her forever.

“No matter,” she murmured against your hair, trying to soothe herself back into dignity. “Mother will protect you even now.”

the heir and the wolf

summary: Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir is a difficult thing, but what happens when you also become one of the Realm's most prized posessions?

pairings: cregan stark x velaryon!reader, reader x platonic targs/velaryon

i. the dear daughter (2.8k) - At one-and-twenty and eight-and-ten, barely a year after their marriage, Ser Laenor Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen welcomed their first child, a daughter, into the world. The girl immediately became dear to the whole court, coddled and spoiled by all, but mostly by her grandsire, King Viserys I. The man saw in his granddaughter her mother, and as the girl grew to look like his late wife, Aemma Arryn, it became even clearer that he doted on her more than he did to his own children or his other grandchildren.

ii. about children and trouble (8.2k) - It is reported that in the year 121 AC, when the Realm’s Jewel was only six summers old, her hatchling Merrax was eaten by the Cannibal in a strange turn of events that found him moving from Dragonstone to the Dragonpit in King’s Landing. Princess Rhaenyra demanded to have the dragon’s head cut, but as nobody ever tried nor dared to get close to the Cannibal, it was impossible to do it. Thus, her daughter took the matters into her own hands.

iii. little big lady (5.0k) - Court whispers tell us that during her third pregnancy, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen was particularly sensitive. She managed to cover it up pretty well, apparently, but she had one weak spot: her daughter, her firstborn and heir, who later on witnessed her little brother Prince Joffrey's birth by request of her mother. Despite openly disliking the experience, it is said that the Realm’s Jewel insisted on being present to future labours in case things went downhill — and she did, attending her mother in giving birth to all her future children.

iv. dragons' scars (6.4k) - And after the events that happened during Lady Laena’s funeral at Driftmark, two dragons were left scarred.

v. you'll change your name or change your mind (and leave this fucked up place behind) (tbd) - When the King’s Justice — the royal executioner — died, the Realm’s Jewel proposed a perfect replacement: Nādrēsy, her dragon, the infamous Cannibal. Even if many eyebrows were raised at the Small Council, the King hastily agreed, happy to have an excuse for keeping his granddaughter close to him, even if it was for only a few days every moon. Or, as it always ended up, for a bit more than that.

more to come!

extras:

snippet cut from chapter three

sneak peak at reader and cregan's baby number #1

memes tag