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#hotd oc
scaly-freaks · 7 hours
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cherry wine stains 8.0
playing it a little differently and rewinding back to their school years but with an Aegon POV this time.
all previous parts in pinned.
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"I like your knee-high socks."
"I like the chain you wear like a crucifix."
"Strange way to describe it."
"I don't know. It just - it hangs around your neck like the absence of something."
Her words dissolve like sugar into the cup of his mind.
Clever people don't realise the riptide of their soul is not being fed until they meet another clever person. Aegon's currents slow to a whispered crawl as his eyes trace Amara's profile, creating images in the tangle of her windswept curls.
She's left a lipstick print on his mother's favourite mug. When he sees it, his soul unhooks from where he keeps it folded away, right there at the base of his neck where the silver chain fastens.
Later, he'll kiss that print, see if the measure of his mouth is enough.
Helaena told him in private: You can't! You can't, you can't, you can't! You ruin everything!
The frantic protests of a younger sister who thinks - knows - that her older brother getting involved with one of her friends is going to end up in a loss for her. He's dated one of Helaena's friends before (it ended in the kind of operatic disaster you only ever see on Eastenders).
He does not want to date Amara as much as he wants to pry her open like a game of cat's cradle and weave apart the strings that keep her mobile. Half the time, Aegon suspects she isn't truly awake. Some part of her is drowning in slumber, deep as Briar Rose. He catches that moment sometimes, as she blinks at him with those sleepy eyes.
The texture of her thoughts - when she gives them up - slips like satin over his fingers.
"Do you want a smoke?" He flips the mint-green box in his palm and grins.
Her gaze is longing. "I told my mother I'd quit. Besides, aren't menthol cigarettes banned here?"
He shrugs, slipping one between his pinched lips to hold it steady. "Nothing's banned if you squint."
"Flawed logic," she laughs.
"She said to a drug dealer."
That makes her laugh harder. He likes making her laugh. Feels worthwhile somehow. Not much in his life feels that way these days.
The younger siblings are all growing up, leaving school, moving onto greener pastures, where the chaotic drudgery of the council estate turns into a crystalline vision in the rearview, something to put into personal statements and add what rich tossers would call flavour.
They don't need him like they used to. He and his mother have raised them to become self-sufficient and now Aegon has to figure out what he wants to do with himself because where the kids are going, they won't want to admit what their brother does - has done - for a living to ensure their survival. He predicts he'll be the family embarrassment every Christmas, the uncle that shows up drunk, with a sliver of something in his eyes that suggests he could have been something once.
He knows he won't end up that way. His need to be someone, get somewhere, is far too aggressive. But he does fear no longer being needed by the people who have relied on him so long he can no longer extricate himself from the identity of protector.
Maybe it's why he likes making Amara laugh.
She doesn't have siblings. Her eyes still dart around, nervous, as if aware her protection in this world is lacking compared to that of others. Her parents won't always be around. When they are gone, there won't be siblings to divide her grief up with. It'll just be her.
If his subconscious is turning her into his new surrogate sister, it doesn't reconcile well with the instinct that stirs when her skirt rides up an inch.
Alicent's stained glass lamp flickers, bulb on the brink of permanent death. Aegon reaches over to ensure it is screwed on properly and it affords them a last burst of weak light. Amara reaches out her hand under the dappled glow of its illumination, slipping her fingers under the violets, yellows and greens, as the crook of her elbow turns rose pink.
"I've always liked your mother's taste in furniture."
"Yeah? Take it. She wants to throw it out."
"No. If she's decided it's dead, it should go. I'll just be keeping the corpse if I took it."
Aegon's eyes wrinkle at the corners, smile disguised by the inhale of the cigarette. "It's not organic material. There's no corpse."
She glances at him, as if aware of his mockery despite the affection he delivers it with. "I think some inanimate objects come alive if they are loved enough. Alicent's had this lamp since I've known her. It's lived with her, and now it'll die. We shouldn't interrupt the process."
No wonder Helaena adores her.
They are both odd creatures, his little sister, and this intense, doll-eyed mirage that turned up at their doorstep one day, hungry for oven chips and love. She reached out her cold hands to Alicent, and found herself overwhelmed with the warmth and affection given in return.
He's known her so long, she should feel like a sibling.
What does it say about him if he can't stop wondering what it must feel like to graze his lips over her stomach and tongue that bellybutton ring she got in a short-lived fit of rebellion?
Aegon flicks aside the cigarette, mouth acidic with guilt.
He isn't the kind of person who wants. Other people want. Aegon goes out and gets. There isn't enough time to submerge in the feeling of want and understand the true depth of craving the human soul can achieve.
But he sees the whorl of soft hair at the nape of her neck and the feeling crawls up the rungs of his ribcage like a creature possessed. He pictures being small enough to curl up in the soft folds of her clothing, to soak in the scent of her until he passes out from exhaustion.
That feels like enough wanting for today.
"I'll see you downstairs, yeah?"
If she looks disappointed, it's just wishful thinking on his part. She knows he's not going anywhere. He'll be in the living room with the rest of the family who've put on Shrek and are split into two groups - the half that sings along, and the half that won't.
"I'll be down in a bit."
"Cool."
A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair, and the flimsy ribbon comes loose. He catches it before it finds freedom. She turns, expectant, waiting for the inevitable return of her almost-lost property. He pulls it between his fingers, wonders if it also carries life inside the woven thread, the way she claimed his mother's lamp does.
The weight of her hair rivals Isolde's.
Irish myths were a rooted part of his childhood, laced into Alicent's quiet voice every bed time. She swears the Hightowers are mostly, if not fully, Irish. But she could never be sure of how far back, or of the intricacies of any bloodlines. Rich people have the luxury of unfurling a family tree across the polished mahogany of their dining room table. They get to find their eyes, noses and mouths in the faces of people who lived too long ago to care what has become of their DNA.
Poor people make do with maybes and perhaps because most of the time, the lives of their ancestors are of no interest to anyone but themselves. Unless a mining forefather was crushed in a collapse and the resulting riots tore down a political establishment.
So, his mother pulled them back to times so ancient, the ancestors became common for all, their bloodlines too distant to maintain individuality.
If Tristan and Isolde are in Aegon's ancestry, that past life becomes tangible when he runs his fingers through Amara's hair and tames it into a braid he's practiced on Helaena a hundred times.
"There's something mythical about your hair," he says, and then cuts himself short because he deals drugs for a living, and whatever fancy thought this was about to be would make more sense from someone more booksmart.
She cranes her neck back and gives him the brightest upside-down smile. "That's the best compliment anyone's ever given me."
Aegon bites the inner corner of his lip and nudges her to look straight so he can keep braiding.
Once her eyes are off his face, it splits into a smile. Warmth drains down his spine like gold egg yolk poured from its shell. Once the braid is done, he rests his chin on the top of her head, and passes it off as brotherly with a goldfish-squeeze of her cheeks.
He lingers, inhales deep, smells her, turns her scent into binary code that he will decipher in isolation later.
"Don't be too long. You'll catch your death out here."
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Lady Rhea Royce looking fondly down at her young daughter Daena as they collect flowers in a meadow near Runestone, circa 104 AC
Rhea Royce proved to be a good mother. She was fiercely protective of her only child and never let the little princess out of her sight. Lady Rhea nurtured Daena and helped her grow into a fierce young woman.
Made using Viking Woman Dress Up on AzaleasDolls.com
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daemontargaryenwhore · 5 months
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"two scared children spouting oaths they didn’t understand. all that was left of the mighty house targaryen."
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 6 months
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Aemond and his Strong niece have one brunette girl together and she’s the apple of her fathers eye
Aemond made such a big stink over his other children looking like “true” Targaryens unlike Rhaenyra’s bastard children but he ends up wrapped around the little finger of his brown haired little girl
Imagine the daughter is a beautiful mini version of his wife but has his eyes. Everyone assumed he was going to reject her since she doesn't look like a true Targaryen but instead it was the opposite. Aemond knew he had to protect her at all costs.
He always goes soft around her. Imagine his wife just came back after tucking her other kids in bed and she finds Aemond humming a valyrian lullaby to her and cradling her in his arms. Only his wife and daughter see this side of him.
Imagine he was afraid that his daughter was going to fear him after seeing him without the eye patch, but it's the complete opposite. And once she reached the age where babies grab anything they find, she starts to grab his eye patch and cry till he removes it and gives it to her.
Aemond's heart just melts when he finds his wife and daughter sleeping, the wife's hand gently around the kid. When his wife wakes up she finds Aemond sleeping on his side, facing them both.
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fragileheartbeats · 2 months
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Create another valyrian household that escaped Valyria. They hid themselves away by magic on an island not visible to anyone, they don't wish to be seen. On an island with a huge fortress accompanied with another smaller fortress which is basically a library. They are similar to Targaryens, but much more knowledgeable on everything (thanks to Valyria). They ride dragons, purple shades of eyes, silver-gold hair. Only two differences being, they have never been married outside of family(yuck) with no Westerosi blood therefore very different customs, fully valyrian customs and traditions rather than Westerosi+valyrian(Targs, Vels). Hope you have fun, thank you:)
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
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꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱
─ 𝘈 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𖤐
─ 𝘈 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𖤐
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In the rich tapestry of Valyrian history, woven with the threads of power, magic, and dragonfire, the House Lyrielle stands as a testament to the enduring grace and wisdom of Old Valyria. Their story is a whisper on the wind, a secret melody sung by the waves that surround their hidden island sanctuary. Known to but a few, the Lyrielles are the guardians of a legacy untainted by the ambition and corruption that led to the Doom. The sigil of House Lyrielle is as enigmatic as the house itself—an angelic dragon, graceful and serene, enwreathed in a ring of white roses against a backdrop of deepest emerald. The dragon, smaller in stature but fierce in its intelligence and agility, represents the nature of the Lyrielles' own dragons. The emerald ground symbolizes their secluded island, a jewel hidden in the vast sea, and the white roses signify the purity of their intentions and the mystical barriers that veil their home from the unwary eye. Their words, "Beyond Sight, Within Light," speak to the heart of the House Lyrielle ethos. They live beyond the sight of the known world, in a realm of their own making, where knowledge and virtue shine brighter than any Valyrian steel. These words are a promise of their commitment to the greater good, a reminder of their hidden presence guiding the fate of the world from the shadows. The Lyrielles, in their seclusion, have preserved the purity of their Valyrian bloodline, untouched by Westerosi influence. Their customs and traditions remain a living tapestry of Old Valyria's glory, a culture preserved in amber amidst the tumultuous seas of change. Education and learning are held in the highest regard. The smaller fortress, known as the Lyceum of Light, houses a vast collection of scrolls and tomes, not only on magic and dragonlore but on the sciences, arts, and philosophies of the wider world. Even though the Lyrielles seclude themselves from the outside, they possess an insatiable thirst for knowledge that keeps their minds as sharp as their swords. The Lyrielles are ethereal in their beauty, with eyes that hold the mysteries of the universe—shades of purple that shift with the light. Their silver-gold hair flows like liquid moonlight, a hallmark of their Valyrian bloodline. They are skilled in the art of healing, their touch capable of mending wounds that would confound even the most learned maesters. Their bond with their dragons is profound, rooted in a deep understanding and respect for these majestic creatures.
Their dragons, lithe and swift, mirror their masters in both appearance and temperament. With scales that catch the moon's light, casting reflections in hues of amethyst and sapphire, they are specters of the night sky, their presence felt rather than seen, their agility unmatched by any creature, mythical or otherwise. To the Lyrielles, the world outside is a place of beauty marred by the scars of greed and violence. They see themselves as custodians of what remains pure and true. Their philosophy is one of balance and harmony, seeking to preserve the natural world and its wonders. They are benevolent, yet their kindness is not a weakness but a strength, fortified by their unwavering sense of justice and fairness.
The Lyrielles embody a paradox. They are both guardians and isolationists, wielding their power to protect the natural world and its untold secrets while shunning the very societies they seek to preserve from afar. Their personalities are marked by a gentle demeanor, an innate grace that belies the strength and wisdom that centuries of unbroken tradition have instilled in them. They are the custodians of healing, their knowledge of the arcane arts allowing them to mend wounds and cure maladies thought beyond the reach of mortal hands. Yet, for all their power and knowledge, the Lyrielles possess a naivety born of their seclusion. They view the outside world through the lens of caution and fear, tales of its dangers passed down through generations. This isolation has fostered a deep sense of kinship and loyalty among them, their bonds unbreakable, their trust in one another absolute. In a realm where the quest for power often leads to ruin, House Lyrielle remains a beacon of hope. They are the whisper in the heart of the storm, the unseen hand that guides towards light. Their existence is a testament to the belief that even in the darkest of times, there are those who shine brightly, not for glory or fame, but for the love of all that is good and true in the world.
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My other original house:
House Celestyr
House Valysar
@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
@emily2003alzaga @nash-dara @altaircc @heavenly1927 @omgsuperstarg @asoiafhyperfixation
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insomniakisses · 4 months
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An eye for an eye | One
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Characters: Aemond x sister reader (platonic), Rhaenyra x sister reader (platonic), Alicent x step daughter reader (Platonic) (hotd characters)
Reader type: Female
Warnings / Notes: tw viserys, tw otto, tw daemon, events of driftmark, absent and shitty father viserys, metions of torturous, dragons, graphic violent scenes. I think thats it. Possable targcest in the future.
Part 2 (coming soon)
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You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped your lips as you ran around the gardens, aemond chasing after you soft giggles falling from him two. The younger boy declaring he was going to catch you but he was at a disadvantage you were 4 years older than him, though even at the age of 10 he was gaining height and strength.
You begin to slow as tiredness kicks in and he smirks, using the last of his energy to surge forward catching up with ease as he wraps his arms around you and pushes you both to the floor. Laughter escaping you both on impact. Though its short lived when rhaenyra comes bolting over pulling you off the ground a hard glare fixed on her face.
“That is most un-lady like sister,” she hisses before her gaze fixes on your brother, “Aemond do you not know how to properly behave around a lady?” She scolds and you roll your eyes seeing jace and luke laughing behind her.
“I- we were playing! Only playing! Shes not hurt i promise-“ the young prince stutters clearly afraid of the much older royals wraith knowing just how protective of you your sister can be.
“Really?” She draws out with a scoff bringing ur arm into view and he sees the smallest of scrapes along your forearm his eyes widening.
“Rhaenyra!” You call shaking off her grip and moving to stand by Aemond, “its barely an injury, it doesn’t even hurt. You needn’t worry yourself!” You exclaim hand clasping Aemond’s as you continue. “He will take me to the maesters to get it checked out now, won’t you Aem?”
The boy nods with a small smile when you squeeze his hand in reassurance making sure he knows your not in the slightest mad at him and that everything is okay.
Spending the rest of the day inside the two of you resigned to the library reading up on family histories and practicing your High Valyrian. Save the brief interruption from Alicent, the queen asking to check your injury having been informed by Rhaenyra that her “undisciplined” son had caused you harm.
Though as soon as she saw you two laughing and joking around she knew in her heart that there was no way he would have hurt you. Especially not intentionally.
You simply smile at the queen greeting her by her title and allowing her to gently lift your arm inspecting the wound before she left you be leaving a soft kiss to both of your heads as she bid her goodbyes. On her way to the king no doubt.
— one year later —
The whole family was being taken to Driftmark, apparently for the funeral of Laena Velarion. Though the two of you had only spoken once, having accidentally ran into her and Rhaenyra, she seemed nice enough and you were sad that she had died so early into her life. Your half-sibling however didn’t seem to care. Aegon was ceaselessly complaining as usual, Helaena of in her own world like always and Aemond, well he was respectful enough to understand why you were going but he clearly wasn’t saddened by the news.
The king and Alicent were set to arrive by boat accompanied by the four of you, but Aegon having recently mounted Sunfyre for a real flight insisted he go by dragon back the king uncaringly agreeing and shooing of Alicent’s protests. Her visible worry evident the whole way as she picked and chewed at her fingers you and Aemond sharing a concern look before going over to her. Grasping a hand each you held her tightly and she smiled. You couldn’t tell if it was forced or not, but she let out a small exhale as she held you giving away she was more relaxed even if it was only slightly.
Once the ship had docked Alicent all but ran to Aegon though he rolled his eyes and told her to leave him be as he wasn’t a child anymore. He failed to see how she flinched when Sunfyre moved or how she stood still till the dragon moved away. One of her biggest fears dragons were, something you had picked up recently.
You latch back onto her arm when she’s beside you again, having grown rather attached to her in the years of Rhaenyras absence. She had left without warning or a goodbye. You can still remember the nights you laid crying for her hugs or her soft touch when she braided your hair helping you ready yourself in the morning. All of that was Alicent’s job now, not that she minded, she loved you as her own and enjoyed how you curled against her needy for a mother’s touch. She just wishes you wouldn’t call her Alicent, it always hurt her not hearing the word “mother”.
———— That Night ————
The funeral had been somewhat uneventful, Aegon had gotten drunk and was sent to bed early by Otto and Daemon had made a scene laughing during the ceremony. But that was all really, soon you were all sent to bed and you had fallen asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Exhausted from the day of traveling no doubt.
However, the sound of whooshing and a dragons deep roar had woken you, slipping on a cloak and your shows you had gone to investigate. By the time you came downstairs there was shouting and a trail of blood into the main hall. Following it you entered seeing Aemond holding his eye and the adults screaming at each other. Jace with bloody hands and Luke with a broken nose yet Rhaenyra, Daemon and Laenor were nowhere in sight. You rushed to Aemond side feeling Alicent pull u into her body your hand grasping her dress as you stares at the bloody sight.
Then in came Rhaenyra and you completely zoned out staying by Aemond’s side and holding his hand throughout the whole ordeal. Crying for your brother when the king seemed not to care and made no move to punish the boys for attacking him.
After all was said and done Aemond was given milk of the poppy and essence of night shade for the pain and to help him sleep. While the rest of you were ushered to your respective chambers though you slept very little worried about Aemond and so saddened at Rhaenyra’s intention of having someone torturing him. Afterall he had just lost an eye.
———— Back in Kings Landing ————
“ALICENT ENOUGH!” the king roared, having had enough of her nagging.
“THEY TOOK HIS EYE, YOUR GRACE, SOMEONE HAS TO PAY!” And he sighs sitting on his throne looking half dead.
“My dear wife,” he starts voice bored and tired. “Lucerys is just a boy. Children fight. Get over it.”
She scoffs at this, fighting the urge to yell again knowing his power out matches hers. “A debt is due your grace, an eye for an eye. He is your son!”
“What would you have me do?” He scoffs, “The boy is at dragon stone and he is my grandchild.”
“I dont care!” The queen protests, “You have to do something! Rhaenyra’s son has taken the eye of my own, a punishment is deserved. Someone must be punished!” If the queen had known her lack of precise words would lead to the events that would unfold that night she would never have been so careless.
“Fetch Y/n” is all he mutters and a guard sets of at once, Alicent so caught up in her thoughts not quiet hearing what he had ordered. Its only when a sleepy and confused you is escorted in that her breath quickens.
You stand there rubbing the sleep from your eyes, blinking away exhaustion as your blanket lays draped over your shoulders giving you a slight waddle when you walk.
“What is she-“ Alicent is cut of by the king. “Bring me her eye, a debt is to be payed and she is like a daughter to Rhaenyra. Lets settle this now”
Your heart fills with fear and dread as does Alicent’s as your grabbed by two guards another forcing his knife into your flesh. Alicent screaming protest as she herself is restrained tears falling down her face at your pained crys and shrieks. Your father simply holding his head in his hand as he feels another migraine coming.
“MOMMA PLEASE! IT HURTS MOM PLEASE MOMMY HELP!” you continue to scream and thrash around the knife in your flesh leaving messy cuts until your eye pulls out with a sickening wet pop and you scream loud.
You both released and alicent runs to you scooping you up and rocking you as you cry, hands balling up her dress as a mumbles mantra of “momma” escapes your lips she holds you as the maesters tend to your wounds and give you all the same teas and treatments Aemond had gotten in drifting mark. The king and guards now long gone.
“Im so sorry baby” is all she keeps saying kissing your head and carrying you to her chambers. You spend the night there, tucked into her embrace as she holds you swearing to protect you from this day swearing that one day the king will get what he deserves. And praying to the gods for all her children to be safe.
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A/n. So this was part one hope u liked it 😁
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The Queen's Gambit
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pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC
summary: Vanesha Lannister will not rest until she reaches her goal.
Word count: 1,7K
Warnings: Smut, P in V, squirting
Masterlist 1
Masterlist 2
The Red Keep stood tall, its imposing towers casting shadows over the city of King's Landing. Within its walls, a game of power and ambition unfolded, and at the center of it all was Vanesha Lannister.
She was a woman of intelligence and cunning, possessing a beauty that could captivate even the most resolute of men. But her true strength lay in her ability to identify weaknesses and exploit them. Viserys I Targaryen, the King of Westeros, was her latest prey.
As Vanesha walked through the gilded corridors of the Red Keep, her mind churned with calculated thoughts. She knew of Viserys' insatiable desire for sons, heirs to carry on the Targaryen legacy. It was a vulnerability she intended to exploit to the fullest.
In the candlelit chambers, she found Viserys engrossed in his own thoughts. His brow furrowed as he stared at a map of Westeros, contemplating the future of his dynasty. He looked up as Vanesha entered, and for a moment, his expression softened.
"Vanesha," he said, his voice laced with a longing he could barely conceal. "You look as radiant as ever."
Vanesha smiled, a calculated glint in her sapphire eyes. She moved closer to him, her movements graceful and deliberate. "My lord, I've been thinking," she began, her voice a velvet whisper. "Have you noticed how few daughters my family has produced over the years? It's always sons, strong sons to carry the name of Lannister."
Viserys, ever the dreamer of male heirs, nodded eagerly. "Yes, I've heard the tales. The Lannisters are blessed with sons, while the Targaryens..."
Vanesha's hand gently touched his arm, a subtle caress that sent a shiver down Viserys' spine. "It's a trait that runs in my blood, my lord. And I would be honored to provide you with the sons you so dearly desire."
Viserys' eyes widened, his vulnerability laid bare. It was a promise he had longed to hear, and Vanesha knew she had him ensnared. The courtship began, a dance of seduction and manipulation, and Viserys was utterly captivated.
Years passed, and Vanesha became Viserys' confidante and advisor. Her beauty remained undiminished, even after childbirth, as she presented him with not one, but three sons. The King was besotted, his every decision influenced by the woman who had fulfilled his dreams.
In the shadows of the Red Keep, Vanesha Lannister's ambition thrived, and Viserys I Targaryen remained a willing puppet, unaware of the strings that bound him to her will.
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"Gods yes" Vanesha's head fell back, pure pleasure coursing through her body. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
"Viserys please" Vanesha moaned out loud. her thighs burned from the position. Viserys smirked watching her bounce on his cock, she looked like a goddess, his cock so deep inside of her, filling her.
"Take it" Viserys ordered, grunting as he pushed his hips up to meet her thrusts. Vanesha felt her whole body beginning to tremble with the orgasm coursing through her fighting to come forward.
"So close" She cried. her arms wrapped around his neck yelping when he moved. Her whines made his heart thump as he pulled out of her hole.
"Whore" Viserys smirked. he manhandled her body to move her to kneel on the bed. He pushed her down on her hands before entering her again.
"Viserys!" She squeaked, desperate to cum again. Viserys' hips snapped forward into her, burying his entire length inside. He felt delicious, so deep inside of her. He had already pulled an orgasm from her earlier with his lips merely suckling on her breast, emptying them helping her with the ache from not breast feeding their newest addition, Jahaerys, their son was being fed by the wet nurse while Vanesha finished her queenly duties.
"Yes, you like to be filled up, don't you?" Viserys asked. He never felt anymore power than he did with his cock deep inside of her cunt.
"Yes fill me up, give me a child" Vanesha whined, she pushed her hips back wanting him deeper. One of her hands sneaked in between her thighs, rubbing her pearl furiously.
"Cumming" She warned, Viserys picked up his pace. Vanesha's eyes rolled back with pure pleasure. She gasped when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her back.
"Viserys" She moaned, her back falling on his chubby belly. Her head rested back on his shoulder giving him access to kiss up and down her neck. He pushed her hand away and took over rubbing her clit.
She wiggled in his arm with overstimulation, he was adamant on making her cum having heard that when a woman cums there are higher chances to conceive. After the orgasm he gave her from suckling on her breasts he moved down to suckle on the same clit he was rubbing like a mad man, she made him a mad man and he was happy with it.
"Shit" She wailed hoarsly, her whole body falling forward, the knot in her stomach snapping making her gush around Viserys' cock. Viserys watched proudly as his wife's body trembled under him but refusing to push his cock out, her hips moving back unconsciously keeping him inside.
Vanesha shivered as Viserys ran his hands up and down her side to comfort her. She moved back on her hands and looked back over her shoulder at Viserys with a dazed smile. Viserys grinned in return and resumed the movement of his hips.
"I shall make sure your womb is filled to the brim with my seed tonight" Viserys declared. One of his hands moved onto her lower belly and pressed down on it. Vanesha gasped deliciously eating the pleasure he gave. She was ready to give him a millions sons.
"Don't stop" She begged, she was desperate. Viserys picked up his pace feeling his balls tighten, he was close.
"Fill me with your royal seed" Vanesha begged. She was going to give him more children, she was going to choke him with them, she was going to rule him with them.
Viserys' head fell back, her soaked pussy was just right, he has never felt this kind of pleasure before. He wanted to devour her if possible. His thick finger rand down till they reached down between her legs pinching her pearl again.
Vanesha's cried echoed off the the walls losing herself to the pleasure. Each touch made her skin light up on fire. Viserys collected her wetness and moved his hand up to her face. Vanesha opened her mouth welcoming his fingers into her mouth, moaning loudly when she tasted herself on his fingers.
"Good breeding mare" Viserys praised. Vanesha almost fainted right then and there at his words. She sucked his fingers as if they were his cock.
"Viserys" Vanesha moaned around his fingers. He pushed her tongue down, moaning when she swirled it around his fingers.
"Fucking hell, will fill you up with another son" He gasped quickening his thrusts. Vanesha thrashed in between his arms. he pulled out his fingers from her mouth with a pop. Vanesha cried now moans on full volume with nothing blocking them from coming out of her mouth.
She thrashed and cried and pushed back and forward, her orgasm was like fire, her back arched like the one of a cat as she squirted. Viserys pushed his cock inside of her as deep as possible making sure to shoot his seed as deep inside of her as possible, not to waste a singular drop even when he walls resisted him, even when her liquids tried to push him out.
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The birth of their fourth son, Aeryn, marked another significant moment in Vanesha Lannister's plan for power and influence within House Targaryen. She had already achieved the unimaginable - securing her position as the mother of four sons, each of them a potential heir to the Iron Throne.
As Aeryn's cries echoed through the halls of the Red Keep, Vanesha held the newborn close, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. She had successfully given Viserys the sons he so desired, and now her attention turned to the next phase of her ambitious scheme.
In the privacy of their chambers, she broached the topic with the king, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "My love," she began, "I cannot help but think of the future of our sons. Aegon, our eldest, is a true heir in every sense. Strong and capable, he embodies the qualities of a future king."
Viserys, who had longed for male heirs, listened intently. "You speak the truth, Vanesha. Aegon is a fine boy, and I'm proud to call him my son."
Encouraged by his response, Vanesha continued, her words carefully chosen. "Rhaenyra is a remarkable girl, but it's well known that sons are favored in the realm. Aegon should be our heir, my love. It's the best way to secure the future of House Targaryen."
Viserys hesitated, torn between tradition and the desires of his heart. "Rhaenyra is my daughter," he replied, his voice filled with paternal affection.
Vanesha placed a reassuring hand on his arm, her eyes filled with concern. "I understand your love for her, my king. But we must consider the stability of the realm. Aegon is the strongest choice, and he would have the support of many lords and allies."
Viserys contemplated her words, his gaze fixed on the newborn Aeryn. He had always dreamed of strong sons to carry on the Targaryen legacy, and now he had them. The idea of naming Aegon as his heir, instead of Rhaenyra, held a certain appeal.
Vanesha continued to work her persuasive charm, planting the seeds of doubt in Viserys' mind regarding Rhaenyra's suitability as an heir. She knew that, with time, she could mold his thoughts to align with her ambitions.
As the days turned into weeks and months, Vanesha's influence grew, and the idea of Aegon as the heir to the Iron Throne gained traction. Viserys, still enamored with his sons, began to entertain the possibility.
Little did he know that his queen, Vanesha Lannister, was orchestrating a quiet revolution, one that could alter the course of history in Westeros. The future of House Targaryen hung in the balance, and the queen's ambitions knew no bounds.
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emilykaldwen · 16 days
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I had the absolute honor and pleasure of commissioning @winterofherdiscontent for this piece of Prince Aegon Targaryen and Lady Abrogail Strong from my fic, The Maiden and the Drowning Boy. Right from the start, I knew I wanted to try comission her for a piece. Their art style is haunting and imbued with that fairy tale glimmer that's absolutely my favorite thing and I was fortunate to snag one of their spots! Right from the start, we clicked on the vision of what this piece would be like, really leaning into that dark medieval fairy tale vibes that I'm building in the fic itself.
The piece is just as dreamy, just as longing as I wanted it, with these two walking through the gardens of King's Landing just how I imagined. It was truly a pleasure and an honor and I'm so freaking excited to share this with everyone!!!
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murmel-malt · 1 month
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a few concepts for Hedaera's wardrobe, including a maternity and travel/outdoors-y fit
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mmurkoff · 27 days
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... but nobody came
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lonelymagpies · 4 months
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Finally finished this very self indulgent piece with Aemond and my OC Kirke being sleepy softies.
Started as a study over a “Night” detail by Ferdinand Hodler and then I wanted to challenge myself with lights🌙
Close ups and reference under the cut 💖
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2rats1gogh · 4 months
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King Aegon III Targaryen (age 20), with his wife Queen Jaehaera Targaryen (age 17), and their son prince Rhaenor Targaryen (age 2)
i just want them to be happy together😭 (delulu behavior 🤡) they could’ve been so much!! I wish Jeahaera got the chance to live a full and happy life, she fucking deserves it. And Aegon deserves to smile more often 😭😭
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fandomstatewrites · 10 months
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starstruck 💫
once again stopping in the middle of writing to draw my faves. this piece was inspired by an old victorian photograph I’ve had on my Pinterest board for ages now and I’ve been wanting to draw aemond and Isidore as them for so long. Can’t wait to get the next chapter out to you all! if you want to read the fic you can find it on wattpad & ao3
this is my art pls don’t steal thx
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daemontargaryenwhore · 6 months
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“do something else” and he did alcoholism
(Aegon version)
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 6 months
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Strong!Reader is so happy when she gets pregnant with her uncle Aemond’s baby!
When he commands her to mount his cock and ride him like a dragon that night she does so happily
She bounces up and down in excitement as she babbles about names for their child, she been thinking this for YEARS and has made lists
So has Aemond
Imagine there was nothing rough or dominating that night. It was a happy occasion.
When she told Aemond the news he was in disbelief because till now it was all just a dream. Once he processed the news he kisses her passionately.
Imagine her riding him as his hand touches her stomach that is carrying his child, he pulls her tits that will be filled with milk soon. His wife suggests baby names as she rides him happily. It's always been her dream to carry his child and now it has come true. Aemond tells her what a whore she is to carry her uncle's child, and his wife just smiles and kisses him. She is his whore wife and now happily carrying his child.
But imagine the black trying to "rescue" her when they get the news of her pregnancy and Aemond just sees red. No one is ever taking his wife and children away from him
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fragileheartbeats · 1 month
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make another valerian house that survived, make them protective.
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐀𝐑 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
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꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑅𝑂𝑌𝐴𝐿 𝐾𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑆 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱
─ 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𖤐
─ 𝘎𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𖤐
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House Valysar, a lesser-known house among the Valyrian descendants, has carved its existence into the tapestry of history not through wealth or power but through unyielding loyalty and an unwavering sense of duty. Their story is intertwined with that of House Celestyr, binding them in a tale of survival, allegiance, and unwavering courage.
The ancestral weapon of House Valysar is a slender, elegantly crafted spear known as "Silent Guardian." Unlike the typical Valyrian steel swords that many noble houses boast of, Silent Guardian's blade is forged from a unique blend of Valyrian steel and a mysterious, obsidian-like material found in the depths of old Valyria. This combination gives the spear an eerie, almost otherworldly appearance, with a dark, shimmering blade that seems to absorb light. It is said that the spear's creation was inspired by the house's protective and watchful nature, serving as both a symbol of their duty to those they vow to protect and a formidable weapon in battle.
The most renowned member of House Valysar was Rhaegor Valysar, a figure of deep loyalty and profound courage. His close relationship with Jacaelar Celestyr, forged through mutual respect and shared trials, became legendary. Rhaegor's role in safeguarding the future of House Celestyr, especially in protecting Maesella and guiding her children, Rhaevar and Nelaella, earned him a revered place in the annals of both houses. Despite their modest number, each member of House Valysar is trained in the art of combat and strategy from a young age, ensuring their capability to protect and serve with honor.
Their words, "In Loyalty, We Stand," speak volumes about the essence of House Valysar. It is a testament to their unwavering loyalty, not just to House Celestyr but to their own ideals of honor, protection, and service. These words serve as a constant reminder of their commitment and the lengths they are willing to go to for those they have sworn to protect.
The members of House Valysar are characterized by their loyalty, protectiveness, and disciplined nature. They are the embodiment of the devoted guardian, always ready to stand in defense of their allies and loved ones. Their intimidating presence is balanced by their affectionate and reliable nature, making them respected and cherished by those who know them well. However, their protective instinct can sometimes become overbearing, leading to conflicts with those they aim to protect. Despite this, their courage, devotion, and reliability make them invaluable allies and formidable guardians.
House Valysar, though not rich in gold or lands, possesses a wealth of honor and loyalty that surpasses many more affluent houses. In their story of unwavering allegiance to House Celestyr, through trials and tribulations, they embody the true essence of valor and dedication. Rhaegor Valysar, with his legendary deeds, stands as a beacon of the noble spirit that defines House Valysar. Their sigil and words are not just symbols but a solemn vow to always stand in loyalty, a vow they have upheld through generations, making them an indelible part of the legacy of Valyria.
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My other original house:
House Celestyr
House Lyrielle
@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
@emily2003alzaga @nash-dara @altaircc @heavenly1927 @omgsuperstarg @asoiafhyperfixation
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