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fragileheartbeats · 2 months

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Do a male Rhaenyra x sis reader x male version of your oc Selaehra

THE THREE HEAD DRAGON

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑅ℎ𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑥 𝑆𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 ☆ 𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒓 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏

Rhaynar is proud and fiery, embodies the spirit of House Targaryen with his unmatched valor and stubbornness. His skills in combat are only matched by his fierce protectiveness over those he loves. Yet, beneath this warrior's exterior lies a heart that yearns for the affection and approval of the only family he has known. His jealousy over his sister's attention towards Selarion is not merely a reflection of sibling rivalry but a fear of losing one of the few constants in his life: her companionship and support.

Rhaynar, with his long, straight silver-gray hair that falls like a curtain of moonlight down his back, stands tall and proud among the crowd. His eyes, a deep and mesmerizing purple, scan the room with an intensity that speaks of power and a fierce protectiveness. Clad in a doublet of dark red that complements his noble stature, he moves with a grace that belies his warrior's strength, each step a testament to his claim to the throne and to the heart of the one he loves.

He wears his heart like a badge of honor, fierce and unguarded. His affection is as intense as his spirit, expressed in grand gestures and bold declarations. His hugs are enveloping, a sanctuary of strength and warmth, often lifting Y/n off her feet in moments of spontaneous joy or comfort. He is not one to shy away from public displays of affection, seeing them as a declaration of his claim and devotion. Rhaynar's kisses are fiery, mirroring his passionate nature, often sought in the heat of the moment, leaving her breathless and wanting. Yet, beneath this stormy exterior lies a sensitivity; he cherishes the softness of kisses on his forehead, seeing them as acts of pure love and acceptance. His jealousy, a fierce flame, can lead to impulsive actions, driven by the fear of losing his love to his brother. However, his anger, though quick to ignite, is equally quick to dissipate, especially in the face of his sister gentle reassurances.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 ☆ 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏

Selarion on the other hand, arrives at the Red Keep carrying the weight of his mother's death and the burden of his unique heritage. His red eyes, a rarity among humans, mark him as an outsider from the beginning. Yet, it is this very difference that captures Y/n's fascination and sympathy. Over time, as he teaches her Valyrian, a language not just of words but of their shared history and blood, Selarion begins to see in his half sister a kindred spirit, someone who looks beyond the surface to the person he is inside.

Selarion, is the embodiment of the sun's last light, his short but lustrous silver-golden hair catching the candlelight and setting him aglow. His shining ruby eyes sparkle with mischief and intelligence, a striking reminder of the dragon's fire that courses through his veins. Dressed in a simple yet elegant tunic of soft gray, edged with silver, he stands slightly apart from the throng, his gaze fixed on his sister, the object of his affections and the catalyst for his rivalry with Rhaynar.

in contrast, is the whisper to Rhaynar's roar, his affections conveyed through subtle glances and the soft brush of fingertips against skin. His hugs are rare but meaningful, a tight embrace that speaks volumes of his deep feelings, often shared in private moments where he allows his guard to drop. Selarion's approach to love is thoughtful, every gesture and word carefully chosen to convey his affection without overwhelming. His kisses are tender, a delicate touch that promises more, often placed on his sister's palms or wrists as a sign of reverence and deep affection. Selarion prefers kisses that linger on his neck, seeing them as an intimate exchange of trust and desire. His jealousy is a silent storm, manifesting in a cool distance and sharp words, yet he never lets it cloud his judgment or actions for long. Selarion treasures every detail about his sister, from her laughter to the way her eyes light up at the sight of the night sky, storing these memories like precious jewels.

Y/n, younger than both and thrust into their world, finds herself drawn to each brother for different reasons. In Rhaynar, she sees the strength and passion of her house, a mirror to her own fiery spirit. In Selarion, she finds a depth and complexity, a shared sense of being different in a world that values conformity. Her heart is torn between the two, each holding a piece of her soul in their hands.

As the years pass, the rivalry between Rhaynar and Selarion intensifies, both in their quest for the Iron Throne and their affection for their sister. Their battles, once confined to the training yards, spill over into the court, a dangerous game of power and persuasion. Rhaynar, ever the warrior, tries to win his sister's heart through acts of valor and demonstrations of his prowess, hoping to show her that he can protect and provide for her in a chaotic world.

Selarion, meanwhile, employs a subtler strategy. His gifts are not swords or shields but whispered words and shared secrets. He listens to her, understands her dreams and fears, and in doing so, offers her a partnership of equals. His charm and intelligence serve him well, presenting a vision of a future where they might rule side by side, not just as king and queen but as true companions.

Their expressions of love, though differing in intensity and manner, are equally profound, each brother seeking to carve a place in the Y/n's heart. Rhaynar's love is a tempest, demanding and all-consuming, while Selarion's affection is a river, deep and enduring. Their first kisses with their sister are emblematic of their approaches to love: Rhaynar's, a spontaneous act of passion, and Selarion's, a gentle confession in the quiet of the night.

The rivalry between them is as much a part of their love as their shared history. It drives them to greater heights of affection and acts of devotion, each brother striving to be the one who holds the Y/n's heart. Yet, it is also this rivalry that sharpens the fear of loss, the dread that one might be chosen over the other.

As the music begins, a soft, haunting melody that fills the air with a sense of longing and possibility, Selarion sees his opportunity. With a confident stride, he approaches his sister, his gaze never wavering from hers. "May I have this dance, my beautiful lady?" he asks, his voice low and inviting, a smile playing on his lips that promises secrets and adventures untold.

Before she can respond, Rhaynar steps forward, his hand extended, his expression a mixture of challenge and desire. "I believe my sister was about to accept my invitation," he says, turning his gaze sharply towards Selarion, the tension between them palpable.

Selarion's smile widens, but his eyes harden, the ruby depths gleaming with an inner fire. "Ah, dear brother, always so quick to assume," he retorts, his tone light but edged with steel. "But it seems you've forgotten that it is her choice to make, not ours."

Y/n, caught between them, feels the weight of their stares, the air charged with the intensity of their rivalry. Yet, in this moment, she finds her voice, her strength. "I choose to dance with both of you," she declares, her voice steady and clear. "One after the other. That is my decision."

Rhaynar's expression softens, a grudging respect in his gaze as he nods, stepping back to allow Selarion the first dance. Selarion, triumphant yet gracious, offers his hand to his sister, leading her onto the dance floor with a flourish.

As they dance, Selarion's movements are smooth and calculated, each step a whisper of his affections, his body close yet respectful. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his breath warm against her ear. "As if the gods created you to be worshipped by mortals."

Her heart flutters at his words, at the feel of him so near. Yet, as the music swells and their time together draws to a close, she knows that this is but the beginning of their dance, a dance that will require all her strength and wisdom to navigate.

When the music ends, and Selarion steps back with a bow, Rhaynar takes his place, his dance a contrast of passion and power, a promise of his undying affection and his determination to win her heart.

As the night unfolds, with each brother vying for her favor, she realizes that her heart is not a prize to be won but a gift to be given. And in the end, it will be her choice, a choice made not in the shadow of rivalry but in the light of love.

𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦:

In the heart of a forest as ancient as the realm itself, where the whispers of the old gods still lingered among the rustling leaves, the hunting party moved with a grace that belied their noble birth. Rhaynar and Selarion, scions of House Targaryen, rode side by side, their rivalry momentarily forgotten in the shared thrill of the hunt. The morning mist clung to the earth, weaving a silvery veil that shrouded the woods in mystery and magic.

Rhaynar, with the sun's first rays glinting off his silver hair, seemed as much a creature of the dawn as the woodland around them. His eyes, a striking violet, scanned the forest with an intensity that spoke of a fierce desire to prove himself, not just as a hunter but as a man worthy of respect and, perhaps, love.

Selarion, ever the enigma, rode with an elegance that was almost otherworldly. His ruby-red eyes, so often regarded with suspicion and fear, were alight with a different flame today—a competitive spark that matched his brother's. Their horses, magnificent beasts of pure Targaryen stock, moved with a silent understanding, as if they too sensed the importance of this day.

As the forest awakened, a white stag, majestic and ethereal, appeared before them. It stood in a clearing, bathed in a shaft of sunlight that seemed to crown it in a halo of gold. The sight of it took their breath away, for it was said that to encounter such a creature was a portent of momentous change.

Rhaynar's hand went to his bow, a reflex born of countless hunts, but something stilled his movement. The stag, with eyes as deep and knowing as the oldest tales, held his gaze, and in that moment, Rhaynar felt a connection to the world around him that was as profound as it was inexplicable. With a silent nod, as if acknowledging the stag's sovereignty over this realm, Rhaynar lowered his weapon.

Selarion, watching from a slight distance, observed his brother's action with a complexity of emotions swirling in his eyes. For a heartbeat, he too was caught in the stag's mystical presence. Yet, where Rhaynar saw a connection, Selarion saw opportunity. With a swift, fluid motion, he notched an arrow to his bow, drew, and released.

The arrow flew true, a perfect arc through the misty air, striking the stag with a silent, deadly grace. As the creature fell, the spell of the morning was broken, and the forest seemed to sigh with a sorrow as ancient as time itself. And then Selarion moved and cut it's head to make it's death less painful.

Rhaynar turned to Selarion, his eyes ablaze not just with the fire of anger, but with the hurt of betrayal. "Why did you kill it???" His voice, thick with emotion, echoed through the trees. "I was the first to find it, and I spared it! You had no right to kill it After I, the future king of seven kingdoms let it go!!!"

Selarion, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, met his brother's gaze with a calm that belied the tumult within. "Exactly, dear brother," he said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying a sharpness that cut deeper than any blade. "You had the opportunity, but you didn't use it. The world is like that. Either you get what you want, or someone else gets it instead of you. And you may forget it but you're no king in my eyes, not now and not ever."

As the words hung in the air, heavy with implication, the brothers stood on the brink of an understanding profound and unsettling. The hunting party, silent witnesses to this moment of raw truth, looked on as the future of House Targaryen, and perhaps the realm itself, teetered on the edge of a knife.

In the heart of the forest, amidst the ancient trees and whispered secrets, Rhaynar and Selarion faced not just each other, but the realization that the hunt was for more than game—it was for power, for love, and for the destiny that awaited them beyond the woods.

@ 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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godswood-girl · 6 months

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i commissioned the amazing @murmel-malt to draw cassana baratheon's coronation portrait from my upcoming asoiaf oc fic: break you down with a fury

i'm so incredibly pleased and impressed with how she turned out. both her and her outift are absolutely gorgeous. i adore this so much.

#her pearls! her big sleeves! her incredibly blue eyes!#i'm enthralled by her #oc: cassana baratheon #fic: break you down with a fury #fyeahgotocs #fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahasoiafocs #asoiaf oc #got oc #game of thrones oc

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rainwingmarvel7 · 4 months

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Thanks so much @riotarttherite for this amazing art of Nadya! I love it so much!!!💕

#game of thrones #got #game of thrones oc #got oc #nadya stark/dormaire #oc: nadya stark/dormaire #she <3 #asoiaf oc

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fandomstatewrites · 11 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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novembermorgon · 2 months

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the scorpion and the frog / trust me

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moireia · 2 months

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lost and led by stars — the titles of alyssa snow

"I’ve been given many titles throughout my life. Bastard, Lady, Princess. I have no desire to add Queen amongst them." —Alyssa Martell, 302 AD (inspo)

taglist ✨: @dragonsbone @lorettastwilight @dio-nysvs @julianblackthcrns @arrthurpendragon @endless-lilach @drbobbimorse @luucypevensie @the-witching-ash @megdonnellys @emilykaldwen @ocappreciationtag want to be added/removed? click here!

#fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahgotocs #ocappreciation #asoiaf oc #ochub #allaboutocs #alyssa snow #got oc #game of thrones oc #oberyn martell x oc #oberyn martell x ellaria sand x oc #fic: lost and only led by stars #that is grey wind in the last gif he survives the red wedding for reasons and alyssa adopts him in her north arc I love that gif so much #this set literally took months lmao #honestly it was the quotes that were the trickest but I'm so pleased with them now #finally posting this so joey stops yelling at me (affectionate)#but seriously thank you dear friend for all the help!#rei edits

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zoyazenik · 4 months

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⏤ that is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

taglist 🦋: @dragonsbone, @kiara-carrera, @fleetwoodmcs, @dio-nysvs @purpleyearning, @villanele, @daisyjohvson, @arrthurpendragon, @aaudace, @julianblackthcrns, @kentaroranda @megdonnellys, @anotherunreadblog, @moireia, @luucypevensie, @chlobenet, @eddysocs, @phoebestarks, @stareyedplanet, @raith-way, @jvstjewels, @eddiemunscns, @impales, @darkwolf76, @fakedatings, @daughter-of-melpomene

[want to be added or removed?]

#fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahgotocs #ocappreciation #asoiaf oc #ochub #allaboutocs #tywin lannister x oc #game of thrones oc #got ocs #myranda arryn #tywin x myranda #**#*intro

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 2 months

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Of Roses and Snakes

pairing: Oberyn Martell x OC!Female!Tyrell

summary: Ella Tyrell gets told what her family had decided against her will. Maybe it was not so bad after all

Word count: 2,5K

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort

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Ella grumbled annoyed as she rolled over in her bed, the sun had been hitting her face for several minutes by then but she had no energy to move until this moment when a banging on her disturbed her peace even more.

"What?!" She called out harshly. She lifted her head as the doors opened to see who had entered her room. She sighed when she saw Margaery walk into the room already all dressed up and ready to conquer the day and make the boy-king fall for her charm.

"Is it not too early, sissy?" Ella asked, sitting up with a pillow clutched to her chest. Margaery gave Ella and wavering smile, almost looking like a wince. The future queen sat down on the bed beside Ella and reached over to grab her hand, the expression on her face was some sort of apologetic which raised alarms in Ella's head.

"What is it?" Ella questioned curiously, she was not one to fear easily. She laughed in the king's face when he suggested wiping her when she expressed her disgust at the wine they had, apparently that insulted the taste of the mother king. Cersei smirked at Ella seeing her son defend her only for the smirk to be wiped off when Ella burst out laughing, smoothly she recovered and mentioned that she was not one for wine anyways but prefered ale in its stead, that satisfied Joffrey but Cersei hated her guts for that.

"The Queen mother has somehow convinced father of something, sissy" Margaery finally spoke, Ella was half relieved that she was not the only one holding the conversation between the two of them. However the other part of her wondered what queen Cersei had up her sleeve.

"What could possibly be so bad that you had to wake me so early?" Ella pushed her duvet off herself as she spoke. She sighed when her feet touched the cold tiles and she moved to the table a couple of feet away in her room. Her eyes squinted as she looked out of the window where the sun was rising, it had been for several minutes before Margaery had entered.

"It involves you" Margaery uttered looking down at her hands in her lap. Ella picked up her chalice, filled it with the disgusting wine they had in King's Landing, and took a huge gulp in preparation for whatever Margaery had to say. She did not fear wiping, no she feared Cersei using her cunning mind to hurt her, she knew she had the power to, it was no secret that Cersei was happy to abuse the power she had.

"What could she possibly have convinced the idiot?" Ella rolled her eyes. She filled her cup again but took a small sip this time. Margaery squirmed almost uncomfortable while the seconds ticked by, she was trying to form the words in her head, wondering how she could break the news to her sister, her unsuspecting sister.

"They plan on giving your hand away" Margaery's words were hurried Ella nearly understood nothing of them. The chalice in Ella's hands cluttered down on the floor in shock and the wine spilled all over the tiled floor. Margaery jumped at the sound of the metal piece hitting the floor.

"What?" Ella cried out in disbelief, she knew her father was dumb however she did not think him dumb enough to make such a decision without at the very least asking for her consent.

"Calm down, please, sissy" Margaery stood up from the bed and walked over to where Ella stood, making sure to not step on the wine and ruin her dress or shoes. One of her arms wrapped around her younger sister in comfort snapping Ella out of her shock.

"When did you find out?" Ella allowed Margaery to detour her towards an ottoman where the two of them sat down. Margaery trapped Ella's hands in between her own, trying to push her comfort through their touching organs.

"Just now, I came immediately after I found out however I could not hear well and do not know who they have in mind" Margaery sighed. She was heartbroken for her younger sister, the fact that they were born merely eleven moons apart led them to be the closest of friends and they rarely left each other's sides as children and adults. Margaery could only hope that the match would be less violent than her own and Ella would end up with a pleasant man.

"Thank you for warning me" Ella took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "I should have known her silence never meant peace" Ella laughed at how ridiculous she sounded, Cersei and peace were polar opposites and could never meet.

"Should I expect you when we break our fast?" Margaery asked, her hand tightening over her sister's. Ella and Margaery always broke their fast together, whether it was at home at Highgarden, or whether it was family or merely the two of them alone.

"We shall see" Ella smiled at Margaery not wanting to worry her older sister, although neither really acted their age difference, many thought them to be twins.

Ella paused in the middle of her sentence to her sister when suddenly the sound of someone clinking their knife against their glass echoed around the room. Everyone who was invited for supper with the royal family paused, unsurprisingly Cersei wished the entire council and all the royalty that had traveled for Margaery and Joffrey's wedding to attend the supper. So everyone and anyone in court was in attendance and more.

"I would like to begin this supper by thanking you all for making the journey to travel this way whether it was long or short, and we welcome you with open arms and hearts. The king and I are very happy with your presence for his upcoming wedding to Lady Margaery Tyrell" Cersei's voice echoed throughout the room with false happiness, Margaery had told Ella all about what was conspiring between her and Cersei. Ella turned to watch Cersei with her eyes squinted suspicious of the Queen mother.

"I would like to use this opportunity to announce on behalf of Lord Mace-" Cersei turned to look at Ella's father who nodded with a stupid smile on his face which made Ella wince, how in the world did her father last so long she had no idea and she could not wait for her elder brother Willas to take over the Lordship of Highgarden and they be done with their father. "-that on the morrow two weddings shall take place in stead of one, both his daughters shall marry" Cersei's eyes slid over the crowd analyzing their shocked expressions.

Margaery reached over to grasp Ella's hand in shock, the two girls' eyes widened, they had expected a betrothal but not for her to be married the next day alongside her sister. Ella turned to look at her grandmother who was shaking her head in disappointment meaning she had no idea either. There was rarely anything that Olenna Tyrell did not know so this was near a miracle.

"Lady Ella Tyrell shall be wedded to Prince Oberyn Martell on the morrow" Cersei announced pointing at the handsome prince sitting near where Ella was sat with only her grandmother in between. Ella had met the prince before along with his paramour who seemed not to be in presence at the supper.

"What?" Margaery whispered horrified. Her eyes trailed to Joffrey who was grinning evilly. Ella's heart dropped, all her dreams of falling in love and finding a loyal and respectable man were thrown out of the window with one sentence from Cersei's lips. She was being given to a man known for how lustful he was, he took his paramour with him wherever he went, and he was literally residing at a brothel.

Ella swallowed thickly fighting every urge in her body not to drop the smile from her face, indifference hardly maintained on her face. Her hand was holding Margaery's in a death grip and the other one was engulfed in her grandmother's warm hands. Ella turned to smile at her grandmother as the people around them broke into applause and cheers.

Oberyn was way older than Ella was, he had eight children already all from different whores and paramours while she was barely into her tenth and fifth nameday. Ella allowed her eyes to finally trail to Oberyn at her grandmother's other side to find him already looking at her analyzing her, trying to read her. She gulped and nodded at him before turning back to Margaery not seeing his reaction.

Margaery attempted to give Ella a reassuring smile but failed when her eyes trailed to look at Oberyn who was siping his wine with a neutral look on his face

"Excuse me, grandmother, I feel tired and wish to retire for the night" Ella whispered to Olenna. Olenna gave her granddaughter a small smile and patted her arm as Ella pushed back her chair and stood up. Ella breathed deeply to calm her racing heart before plastering a sweet smile. She moved away from the table and weaved her way through several tables accepting congratulations with a polite smile and a squeaky-sounding "thank yous".

Once outside the hall Ella could not help but take a second deep breath. she leaned against the wall trying to regain her composure. The cold stone walls felt like heaven against her heated and sweaty skin, she was shocked no one mentioned how flustered and ill-looking she must have looked.

She had dreams that were thrown out faster than a horse dump would have been. She had dreams of touring all seven kingdoms and meeting as many families and people as possible during her journey. She dreamed of reading as many books as she could, filling a library of her own, and maybe even writing her own book or books but those dreams were just demolished by Cersei Lannister.

"I never expected marrying me would be such a dreadful thought" Ella jumped when a gruff voice spoke a couple of feet away. She turned to find Oberyn standing a couple of feet away from her watching her, studying her and trying to see her reactions, her intentions.

"Your Grace, it is not like that" Ella almost tripped over her skirt while trying to curtsy, her cheeks were turning from embarrassment. The prince of Dorne just caught her sulking over marrying him. Too many things wrong with this one interaction, first and most important was that the Ladies did not sulk.

"I would be honoured to be called our wife" Ella's mask fell back in place once the shock had worn off. Oberyn however looked annoyed but to the horror of Ella, she did not wish to offend him, she did not wish to have a miserable life more than it already was.

"Do not sugar coat the situation, we both know we are not the partners we wished to have" Oberyn walked over to where she was still standing and leaned back against the same wall she was leaning on before he interrupted her panicked thoughts.

"Your Grace?" Ella turned to face, her face showed just a little bit of how truly shocked she was.

"Ella I am way older than you, I am not an idiot to think you wished to marry a man my age" Oberyn crossed his arms, his eyes roaming all over her face much to her shock. She had expected that a man with his reputation would be delighted to marry a young thing like her, she was awaiting to see his eyes roam her body and see her figure and probably make comments like she's heard other men do to their betrothed including Joffrey.

"My Prince-" Oberyn cut her off by raising his hand rendering her silent. The move irritated her beyond measure but before she could voice that Oberyn opened his mouth and what came out of it shocked her.

"Call me Oberyn, only Oberyn"

Ella was baffled, she knew men loved their women either calling them by title or a nickname, they loved to boast, they were small-minded like that.

"Oberyn, I do not mean to offend you-" Ella sighed. Her eyes were fighting not to water, they stung and hurt and she was sure they were turning red as well. Her hands fisted her dress to keep her composure but it seemed her moment of silence to get her thoughts and words straight yet again was interrupted by the prince standing in front of her.

"I do not intend to cage you little rose, your place is not in a cage but a garden" Oberyn raised his hand to touch her cheek, his fingers were gentle but rough to the touch, calloused with decades of training. He may be known as a master of poisons but he was a warrior still and no less than any guard in the palace, Ella knew that, she had seen him train in passing.

"Just know that as my wife you will be free, free of this court and their expectations. I will not expect you at my beck and call for you are no servant. I will not expect you to welcome me into your bed whenever I please for you are no whore. I do not expect you to be bred and bear me children even sons for you are no breeding mare" Tears weld in Ella's eyes as Oberyn spoke. One of those traitorous tears rolled down her cheek but his thumb was already prepared to wipe it off.

"You say that now but then the court will pressure us-" Oberyn raised his other hand and placed his forefinger over her pouting red lips. He wished to kiss them, taste them, just a small taste but he forced control over himself.

"I will not listen to them, I am not some weak-minded Lord. I am a Prince of Dorne and I shall take you there with me after the wedding" Oberyn promised. Ella took a deep breath to control herself before speaking again.

"There are many things we need to speak of but no time, tomorrow I will become your wife whether we like it or not" Ella took his hand in her own and started to rub small circles over his knuckles, she felt like she should comfort him too, after decades he was being forced to settle for her when he had voiced time and time again that he wished not to marry.

"I promise to care for you, little Rose" Oberyn promised, raising their intertwined hands and kissing her knuckles gently. Ella could not help the blush that crept up her neck and on the apple of her cheeks turning them into what they were called, blood red apples. His lips were soft and his moustache scratched her hand but she found herself not minding it. Her mind even wondered if she would get any beard burns from it if she were to let him in her bed and she found herself not minding this match as much as she did earlier.

#game of thrones #game of thrones au #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones oc #game of thrones one shot #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell fanfiction #prince oberyn #oberyn martell #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell fluff #oberyn martell one shot #oberyn x oc #oberyn martell x oc #valaenatargaryensdragon

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dragonsbone · 4 months

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ROBB STARK + JOSANA LANNISTER

you're not saying you're in love with me but you're going to half awake, taking your chance it's a big mistake i said it might blow up in your pretty face i'm not saying do it anyway but you're going to

tag list 🧚🏻‍♂️ : @zoyazenik @moireia @dio-nysvs @kiara-carrera @fleetwoodmcs @daisyjohvson @aaudace @jessiemieli @chlobenet @iron-parkr @astarionbae @luucypevensie @nefertiris @julianblackthcrns @darkwolf76 @megdonnellys @endless-oc-creations @bravelittleflower @lepetitchoux @fiercefray @misshiraethsworld @fragilestorm @phoebestarks @ichorwithwine @darkling-er @purpleyearning @lovehermioneforever @stanshollaand @eddiemunscns @hiddenqveendom @foxesandmagic @nik2blog @daughter-of-melpomene @impales @arrthurpendragon @fakedatings @princessmadelines @stachedocs @toilandtroubled @eddysocs @keepyourelectriceyeonmebabe @emilykaldwen

[ want to be added/removed? click here! ]

#fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahgotocs #ocappreciation #asoiaf oc #ochub #allaboutocs #josana lannister #a dance of lions #robb stark x oc #game of thrones oc #GoT oc #otp: the wolf and his lioness #josana x robb #rosana #my ocs #THEY'RE BACK!!!!! I MISSED MY BABIES SMMMMMM #special thanks to emily for witnessing me have 20 different breakdowns while making this set lol ily bestie

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chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct · 2 months

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The Maiden and The Stranger

Also I kinda imagine The Stranger's face blurs when she moves

The inspo:

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hoplessartist · 4 months

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Me drawing my house of dragons Oc with her father

Vs how i draw her with her mothers

i was playing around with the idea of "What id Daemon had a child with Rhea" and this is what came out ( absolutely self indulgent)

"It is said that what Prince Daemon lacked in affection in his relationship with Princess Alayse, was balanced by the care she received from her three mothers.

Apparently before her timely passing Lady Rhea was quite enamored with her little girl, so much so that she would bring her on horseback during her hunts while she was juste a babe.

The bond between Lady Laena and her stepdaughter is no secret to anyone. Despite her young age the lady took great care of the little princess as if she was hers, teaching her the way of a lady as well as picking an egg specifically for her when the princess was just four, and in exchange Princess Alayse looked after her younger stepsisters with love and protectiveness after the passing of Lady Laena.

Queen Rhaenyra walked in to the life of the princess when she was now a young woman in the bloom of youth, still this did nit prevent the two from growing close, more like peers than a mother and a daughter. Rhaynera was quick to recognize the potential of the Princess as dragon rider and strategist, keeping her close and entrusting her with great secrets than even Prince Daemon was not made aware off."

Princess Alayse Targaryen "The bronze dragon " "The head Collector."

#ocs #oc #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #laena velaryon #velaryon #targaryen #house royce #house targaryen #house velaryon #game of thrones #game of thrones oc #House of the Dragon Oc #Daemon targaryen is not a good father

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fragileheartbeats · 3 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:)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

─ 𝘈 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𖤐

─ 𝘈 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𖤐

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.

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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victoria-daydreams · 7 months

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The Hare and The Tower

Okay, so I know I just straight up peaced out from updating this story with no warning and I really apologize for that, but after the last chapter the engagement with the story had dropped off pretty significantly and I felt discouraged. Like, I didn't even have writer's block, I just didn't feel like writing another chapter at that point. But now, I'm feeling inspiration again and ready to start posting. So, I present to you a snippet of the next chapter of The Hare and Tower. I'm in graduate school now and I have a midterm paper due by Monday, so don't expect the full chapter to be out until sometime next week.

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @sidechrisporn @amethystwonders11 @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @helloimlateforeverything @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205 @greenlightower @harrypotteranna23-blog @ipostwhtifeel @poisonedcrowns @ninacutebee16 @watercolorskyy

A terrible dread washed through Jesmyn as she approached the carved, oak door ahead of her. The corridor was far too dark, too quiet. Her body felt heavy, and the air was akin to molasses—each step closer seeming to take a greater effort than the one before. Fear, panic, and apprehension coiled and collided within Jesmyn, the onslaught of emotions created a horrible churning, stomach twisting vortex.

Coming to a standstill just outside of the door, she reached out with a trembling hand to knock on the door, but froze in mid-air.

"I've been informed I'll be traveling to Driftmark with Princess Rhaenyra. We sail at dawn," Jesmyn informed quietly, her hand limply dropping back to her side.

Standing outside of Otto’s bedchamber door, a shiver ran down her spine for the night seemed colder than most. Jesmyn could only stare at the warped flaws in the wood, waiting for a reply, but ultimately was met by silence. Jesmyn strained her ears for a sign of movement behind his door, for she knew he was awake, and he knew that she knew it as well. With each passing second, Jesmyn felt her heart turn into lead, sinking down further and further in her chest.

She remained silent for a few more moments.

"I'm here to bid you farewell Husband, as we part on our separate journeys," she continued, placing her hand on the door. "You are angry at me, this I know," she stated, releasing a shaky breath. "But I will not depart without speaking these words. I love you Otto," she said, spreading her fingers out against the door. "Despite the harsh words we traded, my heart remains yours. Should anything—"

Forcefully, the door swung open drawing a startled gasp from her as the heat of husband’s gaze burned into her own. Otto's expression was unreadable as ever, his jaw was set tight while his mouth a thin line. They held each others stare for a few seconds, both waiting for the other to say something. Jesmyn broke first.

"I will not let our last words be ones we regret," she said firmly

Another long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Still, Otto only stared at her, an act which only began to draw Jesmyn's ire. She knew her husband well enough that she didn't expect an immediate reconciliation, but the hope was there in her mind. To her, this silence she was being subjected was bordering on ridiculous, did he not comprehend her words? She was set to sail on the unpredictable waters of the sea.

"I see," Jesmyn said softly, with a nod. "I shouldn't have came. I'm sorry for disturbing you," she apologized, dropping her eyes from him to the floor. "May sleep find you well, Husband," she wished, before turning away from Otto.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Jesmyn walked back down the corridor to her own chambers.

"You posses both beauty and brawn,"

A velvety voice broke through the silence, lingering in the air like a caress. Jesmyn froze in place, mid-step, before slowly turning back around. Once more, her brown eyes stared at Otto's blue and for the first time she finally noticed the tiredness around his eyes; the way his face was paler than usual. Their argument had taken its toll on him far more than he would let on.

"It's why I was so keen on securing your hand in marriage," Otto continued, deeply exhaling as he moved towards her. "Yet, your intellect fails you when it comes to Rhaenyra," Otto noted, coming to a stop in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Jesmyn's hairline. "Knowingly or not," he uttered, before kissing the top of her head and lingering there for a bit.

Otto drew back and pushed the few loose hairs from where his lips had touched.

"Otto," Jesmyn whispered, leaning into his embrace.

But as quickly as his embrace came, he retreated from her, like a wave being pulled back into the sea. Entering his chambers, Otto spared one last glance at Jesmyn before he shut the door with quiet click.

#otto hightower x reader #black!reader #black fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones oc #otto hightower x oc #hotd x reader #got x reader

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