You highkey scare me at times, not in a bad way but you’re quite intimidating. I think this is good for the fandom as I have noticed the people here have gotten really comfortable with what they share online, and need a bit of a reality check (for example the anon that tried defending smut about Daeron)
-🗜️
Yeah, this fandom has fractured into little tribes, many of them coordinating in private servers, mass-reporting people, and attacking anyone outside their chosen camp.
A handful of loud, obsessive people have bullied others into silence so effectively that people now hesitate to say what they actually think. That silence has convinced the worst offenders that they can post any deranged shit they want without consequences.
I’m simply not built to tolerate that. 😂
Again, maybe it is an emotional defect I have, but if someone enters my space with something offensive, dishonest, or profoundly stupid, I’m going to challenge it directly. I’m not going to soften the truth to protect the feelings of someone who had no concern for anyone else when they decided to write it.
And the anon who tried to justify sexual content involving Daeron’s actor by discussing the UK age of consent should be investigated and removed from social media. That was not harmless ask. It was deeply alarming behavior involving a young actor, and anyone defending it deserves far more than a polite disagreement.
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A Lannister Lady must always know her place. She must always know her duty or so says my father, Lord Jason Lannister.
A lady must marry for political alliance for her family and never for the sake of love.
I detested such a thought…not that my parents would ever know that. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be what they needed me to be. But I am not and will never be sickeningly perfect like my eldest sister, Cerelle, already past her twenty‑first nameday. She’s the firstborn daughter who married Ser Addam of House Farman as he is not of high enough status to overshadow our father. The firstborn who instantly loved all the power of commanding a great house and expects everyone else to share the same level of determination.
Next comes my second older sister Tysha, chosen to strengthen alliances inside the Westerlands. Father decided her match was Ser Myles of House Westerling for being deeply loyal to House Lannister. Following Cerecelle’s nameday at 19 years old she’s always the one trying to keep the six crazy siblings from tearing each other apart. Because of this we’ve nicknamed her the diplomat of our family
Loreon, the only heir at the proud age of 20 instantly became father’s greatest asset. He’s utterly spoiled just for being the only other male in the family. He and I have never really gotten along with each other by how dismissive he is to everyone of us except for Cerelle. I think he’s possibly jealous of me by how close I am to our mother Johanna, though he’d never admit he’s a mama’s boy.
Ceryse, my younger sister just reached her 16th nameday. She’d be my twin if she wasn’t always trying to impress my father with perfect manners. It’s not her fault…..yet her eagerness to please everyone can be exhausting.
Finally there’s our sweet baby sister Jeyne at the sweet age of 12. Everyone protects her and her innocent spirit, funny enough it’s the only thing me and my brother agree on. She loves playing hide and seek, eating cake and always asking questions far too blunt for her age.
“Hold the chair steady, Jeyne. I don't wish to fall on my arse.”
This morning inside one of the bedchambers of Casterly Rock my curiosity had taken over me. Standing on one of the wooden chairs I'd pulled over from the table in the corner I did my best to keep my balance while digging around for something. While passing this chamber something caught my eye on top of the fireplace mantel, an object I didn't recall being there my whole life.
Moving my right hand around my fingers brushed against something that felt thickly and leathery. Jeyne leans up on toes standing on the stone floor curious. “What is it, sissy?”
“I’m not exactly sure….ah!” Moving one foot closer to the edge of the chair my right hand finally managed to grasp the object enough. At the same time as I grabbed the object the chair tripped sideways and I tumbled to the floor, dropping it on the floor beside me. Rubbing my forehead with my hand I looked at my youngest sister. “You were supposed to keep it steady.”
“I wanted to see it.”
Looking around I managed to find what had fallen from my grasp, instantly gasping in utter curiosity to find that it was none other than an ancient book that I’d never laid eyes on. Picking it up I laid it across my lap and Jeyne scooted closer to my side to see better. Brushing my fingers over the dark and dusty black cover reading the words. “High Valyrian.”
“The dragon language?”
“Yes. How did it get here though?”
“Somebody left it.”
“Possibly.”
Footsteps were heard quickly moving down the hallway getting closer until they stopped in the doorway belonging to Tysha. “What are you two doing in here. Father has called everyone for breakfast.” She wore a deep red gown with her hair in two long pigtail braids falling over her shoulders.
“Lacey found a new book.” Jeyne cheered.
“Ah, interesting.”
Getting up from the floor I slumped my shoulders heading to the doorway, carrying the book underneath my arm. Tysha stepped aside so Jeyne and I could slip past her into the hallway. The morning sun poured through the high windows, catching dust motes in the air as we walked. My fingers tightened around the book beneath my arm, its weight strangely comforting.
“You’re bringing that to breakfast?” Tysha asked, arching a brow as she followed behind us.
“I found it,” I muttered. “I want to know what it says.”
Cerelle’s voice carried before we even reached the dining hall. “Loreon, stop teasing her. You’re twenty, not twelve.”
We stepped into the dining hall, and the familiar chaos greeted us. Cerelle sat perfectly straight, golden hair braided intricately down her back, already halfway through a plate of fruit. Loreon lounged in his chair like he owned the place. Ceryse practiced her posture, chin lifted, hands folded neatly. Jeyne ran ahead to her seat, nearly tripping over her own feet. Mother sat beside Father, her expression soft but tired. Father was stern, unreadable, already irritated by the noise.
Cerelle’s eyes immediately dropped to the book under my arm when I began to take my place across from my brother. “What is that?”
“A book,” I replied, sliding into my seat.
Loreon snorted. “She thinks she’s a scholar now.”
“It’s High Valyrian,” Jeyne announced proudly, climbing onto her chair.
Cerelle’s gaze sharpened. “High Valyrian? Where did you get that?”
“I found it in one of the chambers,” I said, brushing dust from the cover. “It must have been left behind.”
“The royal family visited moons ago,” Tysha said gently. “Queen Aemma spent time in that wing I believe.”
Father’s eyes flicked toward the book, then toward me. “A lady does not bring Dragon reading to the table.”
“It’s not just reading,” I said quietly. “It’s history.”
Loreon smirked. “Dragon history. She wants to be a Targaryen now.”
Cerelle leaned forward. “You can’t even read High Valyrian, Lacey.”
“I can try.”
Ceryse offered a polite smile. “It is… interesting.”
Jeyne reached for the book. “Can I see the dragons?”
“No,” Father said sharply.
Servants moved quietly around us, refilling goblets, placing fresh bread on the table. The morning light warmed the golden tapestries, but the air felt colder somehow now. Opening the book I ignored the breakfast plate that had been placed before me, too focused on seeing what this book contained. They certainly weren't wrong that the words all seemed to be scribbles to me yet I was determined to understand this language in front of me.
A servant entered the dining hall carrying a sealed letter in their hands until they reached my father. He took it from the servant's hand tearing the seal and reading over whatever was written on the piece of paper. Jason quickly raised his eyebrows at my mother, gesturing his head over to me before she cleared her throat getting my attention. “Lacey, there’s something your father and I need to discuss with you.”
“What is it, mother?”
She placed her intertwined hands in front of her on the table while keeping her posture perfectly. “We’d prefer to do it privately.”
“Why?”
“It is not something suitable for younger ears.”
Jeyne joined in on the conversation. “Did someone die?”
“Seven hells, what is wrong with you?”
Mother scolded. “Loreon! Language.”
“She just asked if someone died. Honestly, she spends far too much time with Lacey. She’s turning her into a wild animal.”
Glaring across the table at him. “She’s not an animal.”
“No, you are.”
“That’s enough, all of you!” Our father hit his goblet on the table creating a large banging noise, making the two of us turn our attention back to him at the head of the table with our mother. “Lacey, you are to be betrothed. I have been far too consumed with Cerelle and Tysha’s weddings but now that they are settled it’s time to do your duty to your family.”
“B-betrothed?”
Jason didn’t change his tone. “Did I stutter?”
“No.” The words got caught in my mouth when I met his gaze. I never thought those words would come from his mouth. He already had secured the loyalties of our house that he needed so surely I was free to remain at home with my family. “I only thought - I thought I wouldn’t have to be married off to a stranger. You never acted as if I was suitable. Has the circumstance changed, father?”
“Are you daft. Why do you never desire to be a proper lady?” Cerelle snapped, her blonde hair bouncing as she whipped her head in my direction.
“I want to decide my own life.”
Loreon shook his head. “Are you trying to disrespect the family name on purpose or do you have a concussion?”
“Loreon, that is quite enough. Be nice to your sister.”
He slumped back on his chair on que before father held up the open letter for me to see what had been written. “This is not up for discussion! You are my daughter and you will be married into House Targaryen whether you wish it or not.”
“House Targaryen?”
Ceryse finished her sip of wine raising a brow. “Has King Viserys had a boy?”
“You want her to marry a baby boy?”
Jason pinched his nose at his youngest daughter’s question, sighing heavily before abruptly getting up from his seat. Pushing my back against the harsh back of the chair my blood ran cold when he delivered his next sentence and quickly exited the room before anyone else could get a word out.
“You are to marry Daemon Targaryen.”
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I want you to know that I'm blocking anyone who misuses hashtags. I'm tired of going into a character's tag and seeing posts about OTHER DAMN CHARACTERS. This is especially for the Hotd fandom; I've never seen a fandom misuse hashtags so badly.
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Insulting any actors based on their appearance is not cool. And yes I'm including both Ewan and Phia since majority of the recent anons have made fun of them
I agree with you, anon. Going after either actor’s appearance is unnecessary and shitty.
For context, though, the Alysmond anon attacking Phia has been harassing my blog for days, while the other person is deliberately provoking them in return with Ewan. That explains how this mess started, but it still doesn’t make personal insults about real people acceptable.
How about fluff with Lucerys velaryon x reader! Lannister 🥹
Of course! Sorry that it took me so long, I'm in another country rn.
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Driftmark's library was rather warm,contrasting nicely with the rather cold halls, the fire had been burning for hours now, and each time you thought it would surely be embers with how long it had been alight, you would check to see, that alas, it was not ash and embers.
Your betrothed had joined you today, although he is not an avid reader like you, he still likes to avoid his lessons to be with you.
"Are you enjoying the book so far, my lady?" Lucerys asks, sitting next to you. He had been reading over your shoulder but had stopped a while ago, growing bored.
"Perfectly, Luce. And please, do not refer to me as 'my lady' it makes me feel old." You hum, smiling softly, "Besides, we are to be married in a month."
Lucerys' cheeks grow red from embarrassment as he started to apologise perfusly - to which you tell him it's okay.
Silence then falls between the two of you as he leans his head on your shoulder, watching you read, as your attention goes back into the book in your hands.
