blabbermouthdiaries

[plague-cattle-burial-ground]

The ultimate It Girl of Westeros.

[plague-cattle-burial-ground]

Sansa would shine in the south, Catelyn thought to herself..

Commission

[daewithmon]

Sansa north style ver. 🐺

Fashion westerosi collection

[blabbermouthdiaries]

Ooh yes, this fits with my headcanon so much. If I am not wrong, this is so Siberian coded, I love it. And I absolutely love the hairstyles of the North. 

[jupitersmusings]

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

[overlord-fire-bubble]

THIS ONE FUCKING WORKS. REBLOG IT.

[tiny-kt]

this for real fucking works

[blabbermouthdiaries]

hope it does. 

[lewisrises]

which shakespeare play did you study in school?

hamlet

macbeth

romeo and juliet

a midsummer night’s dream

the tempest

othello

twelfth night

more than 1 of these

none (answer in tags)

Voting ended onApr 26, 2023

[blabbermouthdiaries]

Julius Caesar. But I did read a bit of Macbeth for a school presentation, does it count?

[pinkmoon888]

Can you read/write cursive (bonus: tell me your answer & how old you are in the tags)

Yes

Read but not write

No

Voting ended onFeb 15, 2023

[blabbermouthdiaries]

Along with millions of Indians like me who have grown up in schools that had 'cursive writing' classes, it really shocked and bothered me when I saw that Americans wrote like kindergarten kids. lol. I cannot recall how many cursive writing workbooks I had to finish in junior school.

[redbelles]

hotd is a comedy, actually

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 1.03 Second of His Name

[emmaziadarcy]

they saw you from across the room and didn’t like your vibe :<

[irlplasticlamb]

sonne by rammstein is so viserys’ kids core……

prints available here (including no lyrics versions)

[sofietargaryen]

miss phia blessing us with crumbs

[blabbermouthdiaries]

happy family

[brotherconstant]

Driftmark (1.07) | The Black Queen (1.10)

“They all laughed.”

[blabbermouthdiaries]

he is having the time of his life

[fkevin073]

JACAERYS “JACE” VELARYON & LUCERYS “LUKE” VELARYON in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

[kinkadinkyy-deactivated20251129]

#the couple who swears together stays together

[blabbermouthdiaries]

cuties

[blabbermouthdiaries]

Aemond Targaryen x OC

Fic inspired by an ask (linked in the previous post).

                                                             ~1~

Aelis watched the sky grow darker outside the Red Keep as she rummaged through her chest indecisively. Fiddling with the tumble of clothes in front of her, she paused for a moment over a crimson damask kirtle before settling on the one for the night. She looked anxiously at herself in the mirror while being laced into a gown of ivory velvet with sleeves lined in light blue silk. Fastening a silver raven brooch onto the bodice, she glanced at her handmaid for reassurance. 

‘You’re perfect’, came the reply. Aelis gave her a grateful smile. 

‘Enough of the dawdling’, Caitrin barged into the chambers unannounced, giddy with excitement. ‘Come along!’, she took Aelis by the arm and darted out. 

The Great Hall had been furnished elaborately with chandeliers, festoons and wreaths for the name day of the King’s twin grandchildren. As the courtiers streamed in, it filled with the sounds of indiscernible chatter mingled with the clinks of goblets. 

‘The Lady Tully of Riverrun and the Lady Blackwood of Raventree Hall’, the herald announced as Caitrin and Aelis stepped in. They walked over to where the other ladies of the court had gathered, each dressed in their finest. 

It was not long before they noticed the group of young men in the corner observing them. Ser Alan Beesbury, grandson of the Lord Treasurer, grinned mischievously and made a comment to the handsome olive-skinned man next to him, who smirked in return. 

‘Is he Dornish?’ Caitrin wondered aloud.

‘No, he wears the sigil of Blackhaven’ Aelis said, gesturing to the lightning bolt and stars emblazoned on his tunic. ‘He must be…’

‘Lord Dondarrion’s nephew, Ser Jonah’, finished Maris Baratheon. ‘It is his Dornish mother he gets his coloring from. They say she was a water-wizard from the Saltshore before she came to Blackhaven. No wonder he has been sent away to King’s Landing as soon as he got anointed.’  Maris was only a girl of three and ten, younger than both of them, but one would not know that from hearing her speak.

‘I would not be sorry if he asked me for a dance’, Caitrin said to Aelis. 

‘Nor would I’, she admitted. 

A hush fell in the crowd then, and they turned to see the royal family make their entrance. Queen Alicent led the entourage, along with the bearers who carried King Viserys to his seat at the royal table. Prince Aegon followed with the Princess Helaena and their twins, who had been dressed in black and red brocade cloaks for the occasion.

They seem so tiny for four years, Aelis thought, bowing. As she looked up, she saw Prince Aemond enter the hall. His mouth was pulled taut in a scowl as his good eye met hers momentarily, but he looked away at once. 

When he had joined his family at the end of the hall, Maris mused, ‘Father says one of us sisters would marry the One-eyed prince someday.’ She did not look displeased by the thought. Aelis knew not how she would have felt about such a prospect. Something about his mien intimidated her.

The celebrations were set in motion with an earnest address by the King; the maladies that tormented him so seemed to be eased by the joys of being a grandsire. The servers brought in the first course, roasts of stuffed fowl of every size, basins of turtle soup, and a myriad delicate pastries of fruit procured from the Reach. Arbor gold flowed generously, and even though their Septa always discouraged it, the girls allowed themselves a cup each.

As the musicians began playing, Helaena got up to lead the dance. She twirled to the music in graceful moves while the Lord Hand clapped encouragingly. Aelis watched as Aegon made his way to a comely lady who had caught his eye. Caitrin tugged at her sleeve, drawing her attention to Alan Beesbury who was walking over to where they were seated.

‘How fortunate we are to be graced with such beauty tonight’. 

The girls exchanged glances. 

‘Forgive me, I don’t think I have introduced myself…’

‘Ser Alan. We watched you spar in the yard two days past’, Aelis said. ‘You fought so gallantly.’

‘Surely, you tease me’, his mouth curled up into a wry smile, ‘I was disarmed, by the Prince.’ 

Before she could redress her statement, he offered his hand to Caitrin. ‘Would you join me on the floor, my lady?’ 

As the night wore on, the lordlings, knights and squires partnered up to dance with the young ladies. All, but Aelis. She watched as Caitrin danced with Ser Alan, before moving on to Lord Massey and two of the Velaryon cousins. Maris even twirled with Prince Daeron. Her hopes had been raised when Ser Eldric of the Vale had approached the table, but he only had eyes for young Lea Reyne. Left alone at her seat, she’d been sulking for a while when she noticed the half-Dornish knight leaning against a window. 

He looks like a maiden’s fantasy. Smoothing her skirts, she rose and went to him. 

‘Be welcome to King’s Landing, Ser Jonah.’

‘Uhh...’ he spun around, startled by her presence, his hair bouncing with the movement. His hair. 

‘I hope your journey from Blackhaven has been well?’

‘Not as bad as the ride through Flea Bottom’, he said. ‘I’m sorry, my lady, but how are you acquainted with me?’

‘I… I’m not. Lady Maris told us about you…’

He let out a small chuckle, ‘and my Dornish witch mother, I suppose’. Aelis gasped softly in embarrassment.               ‘I’m afraid to disappoint you. My lady mother is from Dorne, but unfortunately, no water-wizard. If only’, he added.

She had to blush. He smiled back charmingly. His smile. 

‘I see you’ve taken no partner to dance yet, Ser’. Feeling courageous, she continued, ‘Neither have I.’

He seemed to consider for a moment or two, before abruptly looking up to the hall. Something changed in his countenance. ‘My apologies…’ he murmured, before turning away and leaving her. 

Sighing, she lowered her gaze and wondered what had gone amiss. Ever since the night had begun, every man seemed to be avoiding her like the grey plague. She looked at her reflection in the glass window. Her features were plain, her form not as lithe as Caitrin’s, her curls long and raven black. Mother always called me pretty. Am I so uncomely? How anxious she had been about attending the ball; how Caitrin had insisted on it. I should have stayed in my chambers, reading. There was a lump stuck in her throat. I shan’t cry.  

Walking over to the sweets’ table, she picked up a dainty honeycake. It had been topped with a gilded marchpane bee. Small enough for two bites, it was sweet and fragrant with spice.

They taste just like home. The thought soothed her nerves. Plucking at his lyre strings, the bard began to sing the ballad of Florian and Jonquil. As she reached for a second helping, the voice came. 

‘Lady Aelis.’ Aemond stood before her, his gaze cast down and his hands at his back. He cut a striking but solemn figure in a dark green leather doublet with a black cape over one shoulder. 

‘Prince Aemond’, she said surprisedly, wiping the crumbs off of her mouth. He knows my name.

Lifting his eye to meet hers, he said, ‘May I have this dance with you?’

Me? She hesitated for an instant, then gave him a slight nod. ’It would be my pleasure.’ I cannot refuse him. 

Taking his arm, she followed him to the center of the crowd, with everyone making way for her princely escort. Caitrin spied her from across the hall and smiled encouragingly. As the song’s prelude ended, sounds of the fiddle, tambourine and pipe joined in with the melody, while the bard crooned on. 

With a small curtsy they began to dance. Slowly, at first, they circled together taking light steps. Their hands were held up in the middle, mirroring each other. Clapping to the beats, they spun around as the rhythm picked up pace, their feet quickening to match it. When the music reached the final crescendo, he lifted her by the waist in a swift and effortless move. She found herself grinning as he set her back down. She saw his lips curl at the edges too. 

The tune then turned somber, and they moved in to face each other. Aelis placed one hand on his shoulder, as he gently took the other in his. Aemond’s hands were calloused but warm to the touch. As they danced languidly, his good eye was fixed on her in an intense gaze, the scar from the other concealed underneath a leather patch. Thinking it unbecoming of herself to stare, she averted her gaze.

‘Does it scare you?’

‘No…’ she defended.

‘I’ve noticed you looking away, ever since you arrived almost two moons ago.’

He did? ‘I did not mean to offend you.’

‘You haven’t.’

Not wishing to endure an uncomfortable pause, she attempted to steer the conversation. ‘I must compliment you, my prince. You are as gifted a dancer as you are with the sword.’

She saw him smile, possibly for the first time. ‘And you with the quill.’ Seeing her confusion, he added, ‘Your manuscript.’

As it dawned on her, she let go of him and took a step back. ‘It wasn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but mine.’ Thoroughly unnerved, she gave him a cursory bow and attempted to leave. 

‘Wait’, he protested, ‘I only found it abandoned among the scrolls in the library’. Following behind, he caught her by the arm, pulling her to a halt. ‘Aelis.’ She was taken aback by his forwardness.

‘Let me return it to you. Please.’ As she withdrew her hand from his hold, he continued, ‘Meet me at the Serpentine Steps, once the hourglass has run out. That way your Septa will not know.’

[lir-eerie]

Can you maybe write a hc with Aemond where the reader is from a noble family and is at all the court balls but no one ever dances with her so she becomes very worried and scared because of it. But in reality everyone knows that Aemond is in love with her so the's why they're avoiding her. And Aemond conviniently comes to her to dance with her after she had to sit a couple of dances out because no one else asked her

The men around you looked at you wearily, you smoothed your dress out. Wondering if you were truly that ugly.

You wandered through the party, men practically fled your company. Eventually you sat down alone at a table in the corner.

Tears pricked at your eyes, you began rubbing your eyes trying not to cry.

"May I have this dance?"

You jumped, not noticing anyone had approached you.

There standing in front of you was Prince Aemond, tall and handsome. His hand outstretched for you to take.

You hesitated, then reached your hand up and placed it in his.

His hands were rough and calloused, you liked the feeling.

He pulled you to the middle of the dance floor.

The two of you danced together the rest of the night, and you smiled the whole time.

[blabbermouthdiaries]

Sorry for jumping on this train, but I couldn’t resist. This is my first fic on tumblr, so please be kind. This is inspired from the original ask, with some things I took from tinfairies’ reply (thanks!). I have a plan on how I want to continue, but for now here is the first part. Let me know if I should post this on AO3 too.

Fic: AEMOND TARGARYEN x OC (See Headcanon cast below)

Aelis watched the sky grow darker outside the Red Keep as she rummaged through her chest indecisively. Fiddling with the tumble of clothes in front of her, she paused for a moment over a crimson damask kirtle before settling on the one for the night. She looked anxiously at herself in the mirror while being laced into a gown of ivory velvet with sleeves lined in light blue silk. Fastening a silver raven brooch onto the bodice, she glanced at her handmaid for reassurance. 

‘You’re perfect’, came the reply. Aelis gave her a grateful smile. 

‘Enough of the dawdling’, Caitrin barged into the chambers unannounced, giddy with excitement. ‘Come along!’, she took Aelis by the arm and darted out. 

The Great Hall had been furnished elaborately with chandeliers, festoons and wreaths for the name day of the King’s twin grandchildren. As the courtiers streamed in, it filled with the sounds of indiscernible chatter mingled with the clinks of goblets. 

‘The Lady Tully of Riverrun and the Lady Blackwood of Raventree Hall’, the herald announced as Caitrin and Aelis stepped in. They walked over to where the other ladies of the court had gathered, each dressed in their finest. 

It was not long before they noticed the group of young men in the corner observing them. Ser Alan Beesbury, grandson of the Lord Treasurer, grinned mischievously and made a comment to the handsome olive-skinned man next to him, who smirked in return. 

‘Is he Dornish?’ Caitrin wondered aloud.

‘No, he wears the sigil of Blackhaven’ Aelis said, gesturing to the lightning bolt and stars emblazoned on his tunic. ‘He must be…’

‘Lord Dondarrion’s nephew, Ser Jonah’, finished Maris Baratheon. ‘It is his Dornish mother he gets his coloring from. They say she was a water-wizard from the Saltshore before she came to Blackhaven. No wonder he has been sent away to King’s Landing as soon as he got anointed.’  Maris was only a girl of three and ten, younger than both of them, but one would not know that from hearing her speak.

‘I would not be sorry if he asked me for a dance’, Caitrin said to Aelis. 

‘Nor would I’, she admitted. 

A hush fell in the crowd then, and they turned to see the royal family make their entrance. Queen Alicent led the entourage, along with the bearers who carried King Viserys to his seat at the royal table. Prince Aegon followed with the Princess Helaena and their twins, who had been dressed in black and red brocade cloaks for the occasion.

They seem so tiny for four years, Aelis thought, bowing. As she looked up, she saw Prince Aemond enter the hall. His mouth was pulled taut in a scowl as his good eye met hers momentarily, but he looked away at once. 

When he had joined his family at the end of the hall, Maris mused, ‘Father says one of us sisters would marry the One-eyed prince someday.’ She did not look displeased by the thought. Aelis knew not how she would have felt about such a prospect. Something about his mien intimidated her.

The celebrations were set in motion with an earnest address by the King; the maladies that tormented him so seemed to be eased by the joys of being a grandsire. The servers brought in the first course, roasts of stuffed fowl of every size, basins of turtle soup, and a myriad delicate pastries of fruit procured from the Reach. Arbor gold flowed generously, and even though their Septa always discouraged it, the girls allowed themselves a cup each.

As the musicians began playing, Helaena got up to lead the dance. She twirled to the music in graceful moves while the Lord Hand clapped encouragingly. Aelis watched as Aegon made his way to a comely lady who had caught his eye. Caitrin tugged at her sleeve, drawing her attention to Alan Beesbury who was walking over to where they were seated.

‘How fortunate we are to be graced with such beauty tonight’. 

The girls exchanged glances. 

‘Forgive me, I don’t think I have introduced myself…’

‘Ser Alan. We watched you spar in the yard two days past’, Aelis said. ‘You fought so gallantly.’

‘Surely, you tease me’, his mouth curled up into a wry smile, ‘I was disarmed, by the Prince.’ 

Before she could redress her statement, he offered his hand to Caitrin. ‘Would you join me on the floor, my lady?’ 

As the night wore on, the lordlings, knights and squires partnered up to dance with the young ladies. All, but Aelis. She watched as Caitrin danced with Ser Alan, before moving on to Lord Massey and two of the Velaryon cousins. Maris even twirled with Prince Daeron. Her hopes had been raised when Ser Eldric of the Vale had approached the table, but he only had eyes for young Lea Reyne. Left alone at her seat, she’d been sulking for a while when she noticed the half-Dornish knight leaning against a window. 

He looks like a maiden’s fantasy. Smoothing her skirts, she rose and went to him. 

‘Be welcome to King’s Landing, Ser Jonah.’

‘Uhh...’ he spun around, startled by her presence, his hair bouncing with the movement. His hair. 

‘I hope your journey from Blackhaven has been well?’

‘Not as bad as the ride through Flea Bottom’, he said. ‘I’m sorry, my lady, but how are you acquainted with me?’

‘I… I’m not. Lady Maris told us about you…’

He let out a small chuckle, ‘and my Dornish witch mother, I suppose’. Aelis gasped softly in embarrassment.               ‘I’m afraid to disappoint you. My lady mother is from Dorne, but unfortunately, no water-wizard. If only’, he added.

She had to blush. He smiled back charmingly. His smile. 

‘I see you’ve taken no partner to dance yet, Ser’. Feeling courageous, she continued, ‘Neither have I.’

He seemed to consider for a moment or two, before abruptly looking up to the hall. Something changed in his countenance. ‘My apologies…’ he murmured, before turning away and leaving her. 

Sighing, she lowered her gaze and wondered what had gone amiss. Ever since the night had begun, every man seemed to be avoiding her like the grey plague. She looked at her reflection in the glass window. Her features were plain, her form not as lithe as Caitrin’s, her curls long and raven black. Mother always called me pretty. Am I so uncomely? How anxious she had been about attending the ball; how Caitrin had insisted on it. I should have stayed in my chambers, reading. There was a lump stuck in her throat. I shan’t cry.  

Walking over to the sweets’ table, she picked up a dainty honeycake. It had been topped with a gilded marchpane bee. Small enough for two bites, it was sweet and fragrant with spice.

They taste just like home. The thought soothed her nerves. Plucking at his lyre strings, the bard began to sing the ballad of Florian and Jonquil. As she reached for a second helping, the voice came. 

‘Lady Aelis.’ Aemond stood before her, his gaze cast down and his hands at his back. He cut a striking but solemn figure in a dark green leather doublet with a black cape over one shoulder. 

‘Prince Aemond’, she said surprisedly, wiping the crumbs off of her mouth. He knows my name.

Lifting his eye to meet hers, he said, ‘May I have this dance with you?’

Me? She hesitated for an instant, then gave him a slight nod. ’It would be my pleasure.’ I cannot refuse him. 

Taking his arm, she followed him to the center of the crowd, with everyone making way for her princely escort. Caitrin spied her from across the hall and smiled encouragingly. As the song’s prelude ended, sounds of the fiddle, tambourine and pipe joined in with the melody, while the bard crooned on. 

With a small curtsy they began to dance. Slowly, at first, they circled together taking light steps. Their hands were held up in the middle, mirroring each other. Clapping to the beats, they spun around as the rhythm picked up pace, their feet quickening to match it. When the music reached the final crescendo, he lifted her by the waist in a swift and effortless move. She found herself grinning as he set her back down. She saw his lips curl at the edges too. 

The tune then turned somber, and they moved in to face each other. Aelis placed one hand on his shoulder, as he gently took the other in his. Aemond’s hands were calloused but warm to the touch. As they danced languidly, his good eye was fixed on her in an intense gaze, the scar from the other concealed underneath a leather patch. Thinking it unbecoming of herself to stare, she averted her gaze.

‘Does it scare you?’

‘No…’ she defended.

‘I’ve noticed you looking away, ever since you arrived almost two moons ago.’

He did? ‘I did not mean to offend you.’

‘You haven’t.’

Not wishing to endure an uncomfortable pause, she attempted to steer the conversation. ‘I must compliment you, my prince. You are as gifted a dancer as you are with the sword.’

She saw him smile, possibly for the first time. ‘And you with the quill.’ Seeing her confusion, he added, ‘Your manuscript.’

As it dawned on her, she let go of him and took a step back. ‘It wasn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but mine.’ Thoroughly unnerved, she gave him a cursory bow and attempted to leave. 

‘Wait’, he protested, ‘I only found it abandoned among the scrolls in the library’. Following behind, he caught her by the arm, pulling her to a halt. ‘Aelis.’ She was taken aback by his forwardness.

‘Let me return it to you. Please.’ As she withdrew her hand from his hold, he continued, ‘Meet me at the Serpentine Steps, once the hourglass has run out. That way your Septa will not know.’

[nicetoseesofttotouch]

Art by: l3earfat

[blabbermouthdiaries]

waiiiilllllllllllllllll

[emmaziadarcy]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 1.02 | The Rogue Prince 1.10 | The Black Queen