darlingrosa.⠀₊˚ ౨ৎ
💭 Jacaerys or Aemond teaching darling Helaena to use a sword.
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* OH DARLING DREAMER.
20 posts
Her love is holy, the way her limbs are home to a tiny skull, body cradled. Silver tresses weeping through fingers as she cradles her little girl, sky fathomless before her eyes.
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Flames dine on wax && her knees are painted in bruises. The Sept is her companion in her waking dreams. Her religion is 𝒏𝒐𝒕 the Seven. It looks so strangely like a brother, silver wisps betwixt fingers && pretty thighs pried apart as she chants her misery.
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* OH DARLING DREAMER. 已转推
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𝖒𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝖉𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬@daeremiros
࣪𓏲ּ ♔┊ ❛ 𝕬 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 is no slave ; he is 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 and so am I. ❜┊. ࣪ ˖
“My daughter will know the stars,” fingers twist && her teeth are exposed. Lips part as her chest heaves with breaths. “She will know… she will know…”
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But… 𝑩𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒂. The skies do not care && nor does fate, for the blood weeping through Helaena’s veins. It is soiled in woe. Misery awaits.
Baela Targaryen@BaelaTdragon
Helaena…. I am not the most optimistic for myself. I’d rather grin and bare it. But for you. For you. I’d want more. A kind soul.
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&& 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 her. She does not wish to be seen on this good morrow, nightmares clinging to bones—purring its disgrace. The body remembers.
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The stars 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕 themselves in the dark canvas of the sky, weeping their light. The North Star glistens, beckoning && it so much looks like her children’s little faces as she gazes above.
They are her 𝒘𝒉𝒚, why eyelids open when the body roars awake in fretful morns.
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Blue fabric lifts, hem of a dress grasped in a possessive touch. She haunts the gardens, bare feet wallowing in mud && a smile is rare as the heavens 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒑. A Queen is disgraceful in her childlike wonder—not yet drowned in looming misery.
Duty is forgotten.
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The court’s attention. She loathes it. She is unhappy in the sea of masks.
Aemond Targaryen@regentaemondt
Required for what, sister?
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It is 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 how the body bleeds. Pretty thighs stained in sickening crimson, the body’s regret. The belly weeps in agony, a reminder of a cot barren of a son. Sheets bunched in fingers && she cannot deny her despair.
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Bugs are far more charming than her darling brothers. The spider weeping silk, web woven in its hunt for prey…
Is prettier in its pure intention. It does not hide its feast nor hunger. It does not lie.
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As well as a ghost can be; halls haunted by a weeping existence.
Baela Targaryen@BaelaTdragon
Good morrow, cousin. I hope you are well
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@RhaenryaT “They are not something to be afraid of,” she murmurs, her hands occupied with a thin bug chirping; clicking their jaw. Her gaze is captivated, worlds apart from her sister. “They are more prettier than man, I wager. They do not harm.”
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“You always make arachnids and bugs so much prettier then I imagined or remember them being.”
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@insectsdream rhaenrya had always felt herself smile softly in the wake of Helaena. A beautiful candle in a dark world. A person she wished she could have pulled close and parented the young girl. Helaena was a flower. She didn’t deserve the harsh pruning and thorns around her.-
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Good morrow to 𝒂𝒍𝒍. Sweet Helaena does not discriminate.
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written by rosa. banter welcome but long form preferred. mun is approaching mid-twenties so mdni is enforced. dark themes && 🪦🕊️ potentially explored.
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𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑬𝑵𝑨 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑹𝒀𝑬𝑵.
/ / dreams claw at her; they terrify in their splitting of a skull. madness takes control in disgrace.
#hotdrp ⋆˚✿˖° #gotrp ⋆˚✿˖° #mvrp
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𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕'𝘛 𝘉𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘌.@lungsplit
i dream of fire. i dream of carnage. you are all of it, my darling nightmare.
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Shadows flit, violating light in its savage kiss. Helaena can only watch how candle light cradles wax as the night moans its terror.
These halls are a herald for dread && she does not know why she cries.
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