heavy the head

All the lonely people... where do they all come from?

[ofbaratheon]

MYRCELLA BARATHEON*.

Myrcella couldn’t help but smirk at the thought that her sweet little angel of a brother could ever been seen as anything such as rude. He was the kindest man that she knew, the sort of fellow that brought joy to those around him simply by existing. It was her life’s mission to protect that kindness at all costs, sometimes even from their own family. “My ankle felt better ages ago,” she answered with a wry smile, sliding off his back and gracefully finding her footing. “I just wanted to see how long you’d go before the whinging started.” @ofbaratheon​

Tommen may have made a huge mistake. The worst part was that he would surely do the same thing again if prompted, especially for Myrcella. “You’re a menace.” He told her without any temperance behind the words. She slid to the ground with ease and Tommen let out a chortle. “One of these days I’ll drop you.” It was a threat without any true steel behind it, with the only goal to make his sister laugh. “Hey! I think I did a pretty good job,” if her ankle was still bothering her he probably would have continued on too, despite his own pain. It was simply his nature. “You feel like grabbing some food Myrcie?”

[ofbaratheon]

helaena targaryen*. 

such busy things , her thoughts were —– a swarm of butterflies rising and cresting with the winds. flighty and capricious. transitory and diaphanous. chasing them could be as costly as it was rewarding…. and in this incidence , it had been the former. not so much absentminded as otherminded , she gave no heed to the rotting wood until it broke free from beneath her. down down down she tumbled , landing with a hiss and a twisted ankle. fortunately , a lovely little lion-heart came to her rescue. but even beast-kings grew tired. “ oh i’ll be fine. i’m tougher than i look , ” helaena assured. “ you can just set me down by that bench over there and i’ll call aemond to pick me up. ”

there was something very SOFT about her. it was different then the targareyon who was in the public’s view, helaena was not daenerys. tommen had never thought about it often, but in his time most of the targareyons had been purged from the world, butchered by his own father no less. that included helaena too, though tommen couldn’t remember anything specific enough of she died. in fact, he couldn’t remember how she lived either. all he knew of was the mad king his father slayed, and in his short sighted life that had been all he needed to know. tommen liked to believe he was no longer the short sighted young man he once was, but other times he feared he wasn’t so sure. he did as instructed, setting her down as gently as he could. “aemond,” he mused the name, trying to recall. “is that your brother?” it could have been an uncle or a cousin, he knew so LITTLE. it probably didn’t have to matter, in this modern time, but tommen felt the need to learn all the same. 

[ofbaratheon]

where: somewhere

for: @rthqstarter

“so i do hope this doesn’t come forth as RUDE--” god knows tommen didn’t mean to be, he had too many in his family who did have rude intentions for him to use his accidently. “but how do you feel? your ankle i mean.” he did understand when offering to carry someone it meant the whole entire distance BUT. he severely underestimated his own strength and was growing tired by the step.

[5ftboy]

#honor among thieves but it's simon aumar smiling

[eddiediaz1992]

[tgdcast]

JUSTICE SMITH by Matthew Priestley for The Laterals Magazine (2019)

[athousandtales]

Cersei climbed the steps to kneel above their father, drawing Tommen down beside her. The boy recoiled at the sight, but his mother seized his wrist before he could pull away. “Pray,” she whispered, and Tommen tried. But he was only eight and Lord Tywin was a horror. One desperate breath of air, then the king began to sob. “Stop that!” Cersei said. Tommen turned his head and doubled over, retching. His crown fell off and rolled across the marble floor. His mother pulled back in disgust, and all at once the king was running for the doors, as fast as his eight-year-old legs could carry him.

[starkslydia]

HOUSE BARATHEON is a noble house founded by Orys Baratheon during the first year after Aegon’s Conquest. Their seat is Storm’s End, on the Stormlands of Westeros. The Baratheon heir is to be named Lord or Lady of Storm’s End, as well as Lord or Lady Paramount of the Stormlands. Their sigil is a black stag. The Baratheon family words are “Ours is the Fury”. 

A short HISTORY of the NOBLE HOUSES of WESTEROS (5/11)