#lucaerys

[aphrmoosun]

Rhaenyra finds Arrax's wing

House of the dragon Season 2 Episode 1

[unusual-raccoon]

Aerys wins the rebellion and celebrates by ravaging Lucerys on the iron throne in front of the captured defeated lords of the rebellion?

Ooh, Anon 🤤. This one, this one got me. NSFW ficlet under the cut. Warnings; cousin incest, public sex, intersex velaryons, vaginal sex, clit slapping, overstimulation, blood play, biting

to call it a victory, would be unjust. the rebellion had been crushed. Lords that had been guilty of treason against their king had been gathered in the throne room. the likes of houses baratheon, stark, tully and lannister were knelt upon the ground, bound. the remaining complement of his kingsguard had secured the room, among them, his white bull - Gerold Hightower.

despite the efforts of children playing at war - for a northern girl, no less - a Targaryen king still sat the iron throne... a king and his consort.

"wider," Aerys growled against sweat-dampened white curls. his teeth caught upon the tender flesh of his cousin's neck with a starved sound, the taste of iron bursting across his tongue. Lucerys' trousers adorned the throne room floor, pale white thighs are exposed, wet with nectar, spread wide - though not wide enough.

"let them see," he commanded, his hips ground higher into the warm embrace of his cousin's quim - stretched around him.

Lucerys' head sank back, indolent, against Aerys's shoulder.

obediently, willowy legs were thrust as far as his throne might permit, mewling as streaks of crimson spilled in spidery rivulets down the pale flesh. he sucked more readily from the wounds upon the curve of Lucerys' neck, smiling with red-stained teeth at their captive audience. higher and harder he sought release in his cousin's quim. Lucerys bounced in his lap, cooing delicious sounds that hung thick in the air and dripped syrupy from the walls.

his hips rose off the throne in a heedless, savage rhythm. the wet clap of skin on skin, tacky with blood, echoed through the throne room.

his cousin toyed with his pretty little cock, tugged it between his thumb and forefinger as Aerys filled him. his delicate jaw was adorned with pearls of stray, delighted tears.

Rhaegar had fallen in battle. and so too had his legacy been pruned.

he should've been wed to Monford - not some dornish whore, Aerys thought with spite. Lucerys keened a beautiful sound where Aerys struck the aching bud above his quim, his thighs trembled, fresh blood dripping down to bird-boned ankles.

he was without a son, without an heir.

Rhaella had fled to dragonstone following young Viserys' death when kings landing had fallen under an ultimately failed siege, and had remained there with half of the Velaryon fleet and a newborn babe. a girl.

the royalist force, while eventually victorious, had sustained losses in this war. to remain victorious they needed to grow once more, to shore up their succession, multiply, and return their blood - the blood of old Valyria - to glory.

let their enemies bear witness.

"sons," he panted against Lucerys' nape, "you will give me sons."

his cousin babbled, round rear thrust back against Aerys' thighs. quim clenching, in view for all to see.

"pure Valyrian sons."

"ah! - yes, yesss, my king."

"and they shall give each other sons," Aerys panted as Lucerys yowled, the slick walls of his dripping quim were drawn claustrophobically tight around the girth of the king's cock.

Aerys hissed between blood-stained teeth. he witnessed the way bound men squirmed in shame and disgust...and several in arousal.

Lucerys' peak was upon him with a cry, shattering in Aerys' lap, dripping sweat, blood, tears, and come. his stones tensed, swollen and aching, and ripe with generations to come. a new legacy.

Aerys rubbed a clawed hand at the flat plane of Lucerys' stomach, splitting the soft flesh with sharp nails, thin cherry red blood smeared between them; Lucerys whimpered a weak little moan. he snarled, hips pumping in a slow, deep pace as bloated his consort's womb with the future of their house.

Lucerys trembled, dripping seed. Aerys slapped at his aching bud once more, rubbing a few rough circles into the slick flesh until his cousin wept and shivered through a second release.

none in their captive audience appeared more repulsed than his old friend...Tywin Lannister.

he summoned forth his pyromancer with a snap of his fingers, a large narrow-mouth glass flask in his grasp. the contents sloshed viscous, and noxious and green.

"Ser Gerold," Aerys panted, rubbing an idle hand across the swell of Lucerys' belly. his pretty, little cousin mewled a quiet sound as the knight stood before them.

"bring me your traitor brother-in-arms, Jaime Lannister."

[ashbye]

Ok I'm sorry but if I see one more story labeled x reader and when I go to read it your fugly ass OC named 'nicole' or 'bridget' are in there IM GONNA LOSE MY FUCKING MIND! THAT IS NOT X READER! I know some of you could say "well just switch it out with your name"

NO I WILL NOT! ITS ABOUT THE PRINCIPLE OF FALSE ADVERTISING! STOP IT!

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

And if you are one of the people that does this... I will find you and it will not be pretty

No hate to you if your name is nicole or bridget those re just examples

[synchodai]

Laenor loving and protecting the Strong boys as his own because he feels complicit in creating the precarity of their situation and he understands how miserable it is to be born, through no choice of your own, a thorn upon your family's legacy. i hate the gods for making me as they did, says both father and son.

[novaursa]

Embers or War

- Summary: Aegon steals you and starts the Dance of Dragons.

- Paring: reader!niece/Aegon II Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N Targaryen (carries the name of her mother's House) and has silver hair. Silverwing is reader's dragon.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 2 552

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The candles in your chamber flicker, casting shadows that dance against the stone walls. You try to calm your racing heart, but the thought of the impending marriage to Lord Trystan Arryn, a man you barely know, fills you with dread. Your mother, Rhaenyra, had arranged this union to solidify alliances, to strengthen her claim, to ensure the future she envisioned for you and your family. But your heart, it was not in the Vale. Your heart yearned for someone else.

Far across the Red Keep, Aegon II Targaryen paced in his chambers, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone floor. His mind was a tempest, a storm of emotions he could scarcely control. Anger, frustration, and a bitter sense of betrayal warred within him. The words of his mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, still rang in his ears.

"End this war before it begins, Aegon. Marry Y/N. Unite the houses. Rhaenyra's refusal is nothing but selfishness."

Aegon had wanted to heed his mother's advice, to reach out and take what he believed was rightfully his. But Rhaenyra, stubborn and unyielding, had denied him. She had promised you to another, a political pawn in her game of thrones.

He sat heavily in a chair, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, his violet eyes dark with brooding thoughts. The very idea of you with another man, a man who could never understand you the way he did, filled him with a rage he could barely contain.

"She thinks me unworthy," Aegon muttered to himself, the words dripping with disdain. "She believes her daughter deserves better than me."

He thought back to the times he had seen you, the fleeting moments that had etched themselves into his memory. Your laughter, your grace, the fierce determination in your eyes that mirrored his own. He had wanted you, not just as a means to an end, but because he had seen in you a kindred spirit, someone who understood the weight of the crown and the fire of the dragon.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Ser Criston Cole stepped inside, his face a mask of concern. "Your Grace, the preparations for the marriage are underway. Is there anything you wish to do?"

Aegon looked up, his eyes hardening. "This marriage is a farce, Criston. My mother is right. We must end this war before it begins, and Y/N is the key."

"But Rhaenyra has refused," Criston reminded him, his voice cautious. "She will not give up her daughter so easily."

"Then I will take what is mine," Aegon said, his voice a low growl. He stood abruptly, moving to the chest at the foot of his bed. He opened it and began to pull out his dragon riding armor, the black and red leather gleaming in the candlelight.

Criston's eyes widened slightly. "Your Grace, what are you doing?"

Aegon did not answer immediately. He fastened the buckles, the familiar weight of the armor grounding him, giving him purpose. "If Rhaenyra will not see reason, then I will make her see it. I will not let her dictate my fate, nor Y/N’s," he said, more to himself than to Criston.

He donned his gauntlets and helmet, each piece falling into place with a resolute finality. He felt the fire of his ancestors burning within him, the fierce determination that had driven the Targaryens to conquer Westeros. He would not be denied.

Criston watched, a mix of apprehension and admiration in his gaze. "You mean to take her by force?"

Aegon looked at him, his eyes blazing. "If that is what it takes. Y/N will not marry the Arryn lord. She will be mine."

As he strode out of his chambers, the clinking of his armor echoing through the halls, Aegon's mind was set. The time for negotiations was over. He would claim you, not just to prevent a war, but because in his heart, he knew you belonged with him. And he would move heaven and earth to make it so.

The Sept of the Eyrie was filled with the soft murmur of voices, the flickering light of candles, and the heavy scent of incense. The banners of House Arryn and House Targaryen hung side by side, a symbol of the alliance being forged. You stood at the altar, clad in a gown of silver and blue, the colors of both your houses woven together in intricate patterns. The weight of the dragon-shaped necklace, a gift from your mother, pressed against your collarbone, a constant reminder of the destiny that had been chosen for you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the silent cry of Silverwing, who remained restless outside. You could feel her unease, her discontent mirroring your own. You glanced around the Sept, your eyes meeting those of your family. Your mother, Rhaenyra, stood tall and regal, her expression unreadable. Your brothers, Jace and Luke, watched with a mix of pride and apprehension. Daemon, your stepfather, stood with his twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena, their faces reflecting the solemnity of the occasion.

Lady Jayne Arryn, your soon-to-be mother-in-law, was a commanding presence, her gaze piercing as she surveyed the gathered guests. She had demanded a dragon, and your brother Jace had promised her one, binding you to this fate. You tried to steady your breathing, focusing on the vows you were about to take, the words that would seal your future.

The High Septon began the ceremony, his voice a deep, resonant tone that filled the sacred space. "We are gathered here today to join House Arryn and House Targaryen in holy matrimony, to forge an alliance that will bring strength and unity to our lands."

As he spoke, you felt a hand gently take yours. You turned to see Lord Trystan Arryn, a man older than you by many years, but with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. He smiled at you, a reassuring gesture that did little to calm the storm within you.

"Do you, Y/N Targaryen, take this man to be your lord husband, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, for all the days of your life?"

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Your mind drifted to Aegon, the man who had occupied your thoughts more than you cared to admit. His fiery spirit, his determination, his undeniable connection to you through the bond of your shared blood. But those thoughts were a distant dream now, replaced by the reality of your duty.

"I do," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"And do you, Lord Trystan Arryn, take this woman to be your lady wife, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, for all the days of your life?"

"I do," Lord Trystan replied, his voice steady and sure.

The High Septon smiled, raising his hands in blessing. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. May the Seven bless your union and grant you many years of happiness."

As he spoke, the doors of the Sept burst open, and a rush of cold air swept through the chamber. The sudden intrusion caused a murmur of surprise among the guests. You turned, your heart leaping into your throat as you saw what had caused the disturbance.

Silverwing, your dragon, roared outside, her cry a mixture of anger and fear. The ground beneath you trembled, and the candles flickered wildly. A shadow passed over the Sept, darkening the space as something massive descended from the sky.

The ceiling above you began to crack and crumble, the stones shifting under the weight of an enormous presence. Screams echoed around you as guests scrambled to escape the falling debris. You looked up, your eyes widening in horror as a dragon, larger and fiercer, landed atop the Sept.

The roof gave way, and chunks of stone plummeted to the ground. You were pulled back by your brother Jace, his grip tight on your arm as he shielded you from the falling rubble. Your mother and Daemon moved swiftly, their swords drawn as they tried to maintain order amidst the chaos.

"Y/N, we need to get out of here!" Jace shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the dragon.

You nodded, your mind racing. This was no mere accident. This was an attack, a declaration of war. And you knew, deep in your heart, who was behind it.

As the ceiling continued to collapse, you caught a glimpse of the dragon's rider, clad in black and red armor. Aegon. His presence here, his audacity, sent a surge of conflicting emotions through you—fear, anger, and a twisted sense of relief.

The Sept of the Eyrie was no longer a place of holy matrimony. It had become a battlefield, and as the dust and debris settled around you, one thing was clear: the war had begun.

The sky was filled with chaos as Sunfyre roared, his golden scales glinting in the dim light. Aegon gripped the reins tightly, his eyes fixed on the Sept below. He spotted you amidst the wreckage and confusion, your silver hair standing out like a beacon. With a swift command, Sunfyre descended, landing with a thunderous crash on what remained of the roof.

Inside, the screams of guests and the cries of your family mingled with the deafening roar of the dragon. You stood frozen, your heart racing as you watched Aegon dismount and stride towards you, his expression a mixture of determination and desperation.

"Y/N!" he called out, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Jace, realizing Aegon's intent, moved to shield you. "Stay away from her, Aegon!" he shouted, drawing his sword.

Aegon’s eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "She comes with me, Jacaerys. This marriage will not happen."

Before Jace could react, Aegon was upon him, disarming him with a swift motion. He grabbed your arm, pulling you close. "Trust me, Y/N," he whispered urgently. "This is the only way."

You looked into his eyes, the conflict within you mirrored in his gaze. Before you could respond, he lifted you onto Sunfyre's back and mounted behind you. With a mighty flap of his wings, Sunfyre took to the sky, the wind whipping around you as the ground fell away beneath you.

Below, Daemon raced to Caraxes, his face a mask of fury. He leaped onto his dragon and gave chase, the blood-red beast slicing through the sky with terrifying speed. But as he drew closer, the realization dawned upon him—if he attacked, he risked your life as well. With a roar of frustration, he reined in Caraxes, watching helplessly as Sunfyre carried you away.

You clung to Aegon, your heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. The landscape blurred beneath you as Sunfyre soared towards King’s Landing, Silverwing trailing close behind. The flight was a whirlwind of emotions—anger at Aegon for his recklessness, fear for what awaited you, and an inexplicable thrill at being with him.

As Sunfyre landed in the courtyard of the Red Keep, you were immediately surrounded by guards and courtiers, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion. Aegon dismounted, helping you down with surprising gentleness.

Otto Hightower stormed towards you, his face livid. "What have you done, Aegon? This act will ignite the war we sought to avoid!"

Aegon faced his grandfather with steely resolve. "The war was inevitable, Otto. This was the only way to secure our position."

Without another word, he led you through the labyrinthine hallways of the Red Keep, his grip on your arm firm but not painful. The walls seemed to close in around you as he guided you to his chambers, his silence heavy with unspoken words.

Inside his chambers, Aegon turned to face you, his eyes softening. "I had no other choice, Y/N. I couldn’t let you be taken from me."

You stared at him, your emotions a tumultuous storm. "You’ve started a war, Aegon. Do you understand that? My mother, my brothers—what will become of them?"

He stepped closer, his hands gently cupping your face. "I know the risks, but I couldn't bear to lose you. We will find a way through this, just us."

His words, filled with a desperate sincerity, made your resolve waver. You felt the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, and despite everything, you couldn’t deny the bond between you.

Slowly, Aegon began to undress you, his fingers deft and sure. The cool air brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He shed his own armor and clothing, revealing the strength and vulnerability beneath. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in the intimate glow of the chamber as he moved you to his bed.

Aegon’s eyes were locked onto yours, his gaze filled with a mixture of longing, determination, and something deeper, something that made your heart race.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his touch both reassuring and possessive. His fingers trailed down your arms, igniting a trail of warmth that spread through your entire body. He pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with yours. “Are you ready, Y/N?” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

You nodded, your voice catching in your throat. “Yes, Aegon. I’m ready.”

With a gentle touch, Aegon positioned himself above you, his movements careful and deliberate. He entered you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. The initial sensation was intense, a mix of pleasure and a hint of pain, but his tenderness reassured you.

He began with a slow, rhythmic pace, each movement deepening the connection between you. “Is this alright?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern and desire.

“It’s perfect,” you replied, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping them for support.

Encouraged by your response, Aegon quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming more insistent, more urgent. Each movement was filled with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt in that moment. The world outside the chamber faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the intensity of your shared desire.

“Aegon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. The sound of his name on your lips seemed to drive him further, his movements becoming more deliberate, more determined.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. 

The passion between you built to a crescendo, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sensations were overwhelming, a blend of raw need and deep affection. You felt as if you were standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to plunge into the depths of your shared desire.

As the intensity peaked, Aegon held you close, his breathing ragged. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “Nobody will take you away from me,” he promised, his voice a vow.

As his lips met yours once more, the Dance of Dragons began, a storm of fire and blood that would shape the future of Westeros. In that moment, amidst the chaos and impending war, there was only you and Aegon, bound by fate and a love that defied the world.

[luxtout]

Flames Unveiled

Summary: After six years living away from Kings Landing, you and your family are summoned back, for reasons unknown. Your mother, Rhaenyra, has different plans for you. You swore to always protect your family, but at what cost?

Chapter 1: Leathers and Letters

Chapter 2: Friend or Foe

Chapter 3: Don't Cry Over Spilled Wine

Chapter 4: The Beat of Drums and Fiddles

Chapter 5: Red Eyes

Chapter 6: Surprise, Surprise?

Chapter 7: Blue and Black

Chapter 8: More Devine Than Wine

Chapter 9: Long Live the Birthday Girl

Chapter 10: Relief From Your Duties

Chapter 11: Lyrax and Me

Chapter 12: Woods Tell Secrets

[slaytheusurper]

When I found out he wasn't Benjicot Blackwood but 'Davos' Blackwood I was pissed buuuut I lowkey wanna write for him🤭 What do you guys think??

[greenqueenhightower]

Regarding the enmity between Aemond and Luke, I don't think a lot of TB understand that had Luke been punished by Viserys for maiming Aemond when the act was discovered, and I am not talking about torture but about any reasonable punishment, then Aemond would have also felt acknowledged and his fire would not have been given years to be fueled and fed to the extent that it was.

[weavingdragonsofthread]

House of The Dragon and Grief

HOTD 2X01//HOTD 1X07//Mitski ‘First love /late spring’// Anguish by August Friedrich Schenck// Stephen Adly Guirgis ‘The Last Days of Judas Iscariot’//Unknown//Simone de Beauvoir//‘The Reading Lesson’ by Émile Munier//HOTD 1X03// HOTD 1X09// HOTD 1X10//Jamie Anderson// HOTD 2X01// ‘Ordeal of the Bier’ by Jenő Gyárfás

[lady-ashfade]

–⋆˚˖𓍢Lucerys Velaryon Masterlist⋆˚˖𓍢–

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Welcome back! Thanks for checking me out. ╰Requests for this fandom open

˙⊹Hotd All Masterlist⊹˙ ˙⊹ Rules ⊹˙ ˙⊹Hotd Rules ⊹˙

˚୨୧₊[Your Star In The Sky][dragon fight, nothing making sense, dragon maiden fem reader, not much sense]

˚୨୧₊[Yan!Team Black With Reader Finding Luke In The River][Yandere, manipulation, obsession]

˚୨୧₊[Silver Hair][Yandere, Obsession, possession, yandere tendencies, jealousy, Fem!Reader, and this being short]

˚୨୧₊[Messy Room][Yandere, Stalking, Maid!Fem!Reader, Short]

˚୨୧₊[ Husband!Older!Luke & Pregnant!Reader][Fluffy, short]

˚୨୧₊[Fighting The Storms][Dragon fighting, Your dragon is called Nightshade, Short story]

˚୨୧₊[yandere!lucerys velaryon & rhaena targaryen x maid!fem!reader][Yandere, Obsessive, short, HC’s]

˚୨୧₊[Lord Of The Tides][ targ’cest, lucerys being a bit different because he’s older, he also losses a eye, yandere behavior, slight dark themes, and slight mature themes (sexual), but no smut]

˚୨୧₊[Modern hc’s][Modern au, Fluffy, HC’s]

˚୨୧₊[Keep Quiet, My Prine][Drabble][Short, Lukes First Time Drinking, They Are In Love, Luke Being Drunk.]

˚୨୧₊[The Green Sea][Bakery Event][Jealousy, Luke Being Jealous, Little Angst, Arguing][2.2k]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Yan!House of the dragon

˚୨୧₊[Say it][Blood,the scene of vaemon dying. swearing. yandere, Fem!reader]

˚୨୧₊Yan!Mother!Alicent targaryen x Crybaby!Fem!Reader. Vs other Yandere house of the dragon characters.

୨୧₊[Day Of Thanks] Yandere, dark, killing & murder.death, blood]

˚୨୧₊[Yandere House Velaryon/House Targaryen x Mermaid!Reader][Yandere, being kinda held captive, yandere behavior]

˚୨୧₊[More Then A Eye][Yandere, blood, reader losses a eye instead, Fem!Reader]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Series

˚୨୧₊[Pt.1 Hybrid Reader × Yandere HOTD][Yandere, angst. comfort, death, Dragon!Fem!Reader, Blood, Reader in pain]

˚୨୧₊[Pt.2 Hybrid Reader × Yandere HOTDI(Yandere, angst. comfort, death, Dragon!Fem!Reader, Blood.

˚୨୧₊[Preview of- A Dimond Of Blood And Possession] [Preview, Yandere, Vesent!Fem!Reader, Yandere tendencies, child abuse, slaves, killing, blood, obsessive and possessiveness, unhealthy relationships.]

˚୨୧₊[Symbol Reborn] (Yandere behavior: obsession. protective, unhealthy behavior, toxic, death, violence. visions, the hotd world, mini series, un canon events.]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Random

✵Non yet✵

[prest0-art]

Rhaenyra and her heirs

[aphrmoosun]

Lucaerys' funeral

House of the Dragon Season 2 Episode 1

[unusual-raccoon]

askdfkfjslnsjdbf SO TRUE @these tags. aerys being like ‘the eyes are watching me they scurry and skitter inside the walls i will never escape my enemies are burrowing beneath my castle’ and then lucerys is like ‘well dont worry :) ily. have you considered the true enemy is tywin? just a little thought i had hehe don’t mind me. love you x’

No, because we're right. Lucerys is like "🥺👉👈 my eyes are watching you too, cousin" while Aerys is being plagued by his own twisted mind. Lucerys, baby, this man's brain is being cooked like a boiled egg in his skull - he'd be so concerned by the prospect of Aerys being obsessed with something that wasn't him.

Spreading the anti-Tywin propaganda, yes he fucking would.

He is staunchly anti-Tywin. Beneath every frilly bit of lingerie and fine clothing he might wear is a "Fuck Tywin Lannister" t-shirt.

The idea of Lucerys becoming so anti-Tywin partially because Aerys just loathes the man so much is hilarious to me. I picture him seeing Aerys like 😠 at Tywin and so Lucerys is like 😠 at Tywin too.

Ending all small council meetings with a 'love you x'

[a3gonz]

not aegon but a mini jace !!! obviously needs a pouting variant

[beezebub00]

i NEED alys to torment aemond with visions of luce and i hear you "elliot is to old to back" NAH YOURE NOT SEEING THE BIGGER PICTURE

Imagine a vision of Aemond walkin through the cave where he lost his eye, in the background we can hear that scene play softly and distorted. He then finds himself in the halls of driftmark and is found by rheanyra, she hugs him and tells him to follow her and he just all confused. They enter the great hall the whole family is there and happy. They announce the lord of driftmark and there he is an older Luce lord of driftmark dressed in Valyrion clothes and everything with a pregnant rheana at his side! he just came home from his travelles across the sea and is welcomed back.

A dark reminder of a future Aemond took away.

OOOH BUT IT WONT STOP THERE!!

Luce spots Aemond and hugs him and asks him to go on a walk along the beach. They talk about life and Luce travells at sea and at the end Luce even apollogises for what he did to Aemond. Then bla bla bonding moments Luce throws water at Aemond one thing leads to another and Luce laughing runs away from Aemond who follows him smilling but, when you think its all happy. Aemond finds look but he inst wearing Valyrion clothes its the clothes he wore that night. "its so warm" Luce says slowly turning around and revealing a decaying corpse "its so warm in vhagars belly"

[outerspacebisexual]

Jacaerys Velaryon hated his dark hair.

It marked him as many things: bastard, unworthy. Strong.

As a child, that word—bastard—was shrugged off. By his mother, his father. His grandfather, the king, had been blind to it, despite the murmurings of King’s Landing—despite those of his second lady-wife and their children.

They only grew worse as he aged. As the short crop of messy dark hair slowly began to curl.

“Strong looking lad, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Good looks don’t make up for the lack of white hair.”

As a teen, he kept it cropped short. Short enough that the stubborn curl would stay flat against his head. Luke, despite claiming otherwise, wasn’t worried about it.

“It’s just hair, Jace.”

“It’s not.”

Joffrey was afflicted with the same crutch as his elder brothers, though Jace didn’t come down quite as hard on him as he did Luke. Maybe it was his age, or the fact that was growing up without either of his fathers, Velaryon or Strong.

Daemon counted for something, he supposed. But the difference between the three of them and the rest of their fair-haired family was stark. As fearsome as Daemon was, he couldn’t quell rumours that festered outside the keep. He’d never thought of the prince as his father. Perhaps because of his age. But that day in the throne room with his great-uncle Vaemond, when Daemon had cleaved through the man’s skull as if pushing a knife through butter, he’d felt it. The kill was mostly for his mother, but it mattered not.

As his half-siblings grew, and their hair became lighter and lighter, he felt that sense of dread. He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly. A sense of unworthiness. Rightfully, his youngest brothers might have more of a claim to the Iron Throne than he. They were of pure Targaryen blood. He was a half-breed. A Targaryen, yes, but did his mother’s pedigree make up for his biological father’s lack of one? Did his adoptive father’s Velaryon name make it all right? Did his step-father’s Targaryen one secure it, or hinder further?

As the years passed, as his mother took her rightful place upon the throne with he at the foot of it, he began to realise that it mattered less and less.

As he said his vows to his betrothed, and their children slowly arrived, he began to understand his mother’s words all those years ago.

“You are my son.”

Because as he stared out at the field in front of him, Baela nestled beneath his arm, and watched his children flying high overhead on their dragons, he finally realised that it mattered not.

His children.

Targaryen by blood, and Velaryon by name. White-haired and brunette alike, they were all his.

And sometimes, as the dragons dropped so low their claws scraped the ground and a dark-haired child screamed past, he caught sight of Luke.

And then it really didn’t matter at all.