#gachcuid

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@gachcuid | continued from here

Though he is, as his mother says, a man grown, Daeron can't quite help but flinch a little at his mother's scolding. His father's wrath and disappointment is one that he is deeply familiar with at this point, but it is considerably less common to encounter such ire from his mother. He understands, of course, but it doesn't make it sting any less. He's all too aware of his error. He's sorry for it, of course he is. But how was he supposed to know that Aegon would sneak off in a lamb cart of all things?

If anything, Egg's seemed to have the best time out of the lot of them, the rascal. Then again...Daeron can't entirely blame his little brother for running off. Egg would have better success squiring the horse than him after all. Though his choice in company...it has Daeron on edge. That same dream has been haunting him almost every night for weeks now, and he can barely close his eyes without seeing it. And seeing that man...he cannot shift the feeling of fear and nausea that curls in his belly, the feeling of perpetually being on edge. It's only made the dark circles beneath his eyes even more pronounced, compounded by the fact that he hasn't been able to have a drink since being dragged from the inn.

"I'm sorry...." he mutters, dropping his gaze. The urge to run is still there. Run far, far away, away from...all of this. The dreams he doubt will ever leave him, but at least he might be able to drink himself into oblivion in peace. Hand pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel the headache building behind his eyes.

[alyafae]

She was no stranger, not really. Baelor had spoken but once with her before, had found her rather intriguing and a surprisingly great match for his youngest brother. And now, she was family. He was well aware how off-putting it could be to marry into a family like theirs. A house that was so well-known, that held so much power. His brother might have been far from claiming the throne one day, yet he still had to obtain the duties of a prince. As his wife, there were certain expectations for Dyanna as well.

And so, Baelor wanted to make it easy for her. Wanted her to feel welcome. He found her one day, all on her own and for a moment he wondered where his brother had went of to. It was likely their father had requested his presence. With his hands folded behind his back, he appraoched his good-sister, hoping he appeared more like a caring good-brother than the heir of the Iron Throne.

"I see you explore the place on your own. Have you settled in well so far?"

@gachcuid gets a semi-plotted starter

[aclashofmuses-a]

@gachcuid continued from here.

THOUGH catelyn’s resolve is strong, the smile which touches her lips upon the way that brandon kisses her knuckles is undeniable.  “you have sweet words, my lord.  no doubt as sweet as your KISSES,” amusement touches her tone, a soft laugh upon her lips as her gaze lingers on the way his generosity lavishes her hand.  it is nice to feel the shy maid in the wake of her betrothed compliments; it is freeing.  “though, i do say it should take more than A STRAY LEAF to make you less comely.”

[egoteric]

random birthday asks // @gachcuid​​ said:  ( let’s pretend i’m on auntlarb )  ❝ oh, would you look at that. 50 years old and you don’t look a day over 30, ❞  may grinned as she peppered a few kisses on tony’s lips.  ❝ happy birthday, handsome. ❞

A SOFT SMILE CROSSES HIS FACE as she settles next to him on the couch.  ❝ You always say the sweetest, truest things. ❞  He kisses her back and slides an arm around her to pull her closer to him.  ❝ Thanks, gorgeous. ❞

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@gachcuid

He hasn't slept again.

It's become rather common place, unfortunately so for the ten year old. Or rather, it's not that he doesn't sleep per se, but that when he does, he's tormented by the most horrible dreams. Dreams that sometimes leave him screaming or weeping, trembling amidst tangled sheets. A part of him always wants to run for his parents' room, but another quietly chides him, reminds him that he is no longer a baby. He should not be seeking reassurance like that in the middle of the night. Such a thing is more appropriate for one Aemon's age, not a boy of ten summers.

Tonight the dreams were particularly horrid, blood and death and turmoil all rolled into one, and only the instinct of clapping his hand over his mouth kept the scream from escaping him. But that only goes so far, and he pushes himself from bed, out into the hallway. He's two steps from his parents' door when he stops, arms wrapping around his own middle, before slowly stepping away. Bare feet pad further down the hall instead, to a little nook by the window, and he clambers up into it, pulling knees to chest, head resting against the glass pane, exhaustion wracking him.

[alyafae]

Send 🍷 for my muse's reaction to yours appearing at their door, drunk. ft. @gachcuid

The candle on his desk had almost died out when there was a knock on his door. The hour was late already and he couldn't imagine who might seek him out now. Perhaps there were important matters that required his attention. Ever the dutiful man, Baelor rose from his seat and moved towards the door. Instead of seeing one of his council men or advisers, he was almost shocked to see Lady Lyarra standing there.

"Lady Lyarra, what are you doing here?"

He knew that he should not be talking to her alone at this time of the day. If anyone saw them, rumors would spread like wildfire. The reasonable thing would be to send her away to her own chambers. But Baelor did not have the heart to send her away in such a drunk state and escorting her back didn't seem wise either. Quickly he made up his mind and let her into his spacious chambers. "You shouldn't be here. And you certainly shouldn't be so drunk." The prince could vividly imagine how she ended up in such a state.

During one of their first encounters he caught her sneaking out to dance and he couldn't imagine something similar must have happened. "If anyone knew you're here the rumors would be endless. You are fairly reckless, my lady, do you know that?"

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@gachcuid asked: "You are such a good boy, being so kind to your little sister. Isn't she the absolute luckiest to have a brother as attentive as you?" - Dyanna baby-talking her son at his big old age of 19.

Daeron was, admittedly, rather hungover, and the headache pulses behind his eyes as it has all morning. He had hoped last night that he might have been able to sleep off the drunken stupor somewhat peacefully until at least mid morning, but of course, Rhae had whole heartedly disagreed with such an idea. There were games to be played after all, and her pirate queen had needed her first mate to help her out in her quest. Granted, he wasn't entirely sure what help he'd been only half coherent, but his sister hadn't seemed to mind too much, cheerfully guiding him through the game, at least until he'd woken up properly. His head aches, but he is loath to deny Rhae anything, and a game or two is hardly the worst thing. It is certainly a distraction at least.

Playing at pirates had apparently been quite thirsty work, so he'd brought Rhae back inside to get something to drink, and no sooner had she the cup in her hand till she'd darted off with Egg. Daeron had thought himself reprieved, at least until his mother's voice rang in his ear, and he'd turned, steadying himself a little with a hand on the mantle. "It was a simple game. I only mildly contributed...but then I barely had a moment to get a word in edgeways anyway."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@gachcuid | continued from here

One of the best things about coming to visit her grandparents, Vaella thinks, is the extra option for whose bed to sneak into when she decides she does not want to sleep alone. It hadn't been difficult, padding across the corridor to her grandparents' room and clambering up onto the bed, snuggling down between the two of them. Grandpa is still fast asleep, but grandma wakes, and Vaella grins toothily as their noses are rubbed together. The storm rages outside, but in here it is warm and safe and she can snuggle close underneath the blankets quite contentedly.

There is another clap of thunder, and it would make her jump, except for the fact that it occurs at the exact same time as her grandfather lets out a particularly loud snore, and the little girl can't help but dissolve into giggles, hiding her face in her grandmother's shoulder to stifle the sound a little. When she pulls back a bit, there's a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "I think gr-grandpa's even l-l-louder than the th-thunder!"