#prince doran martell

[the-golden-viper-of-dorne]

Elia week 2024. Day 2: Elia and her brothers.

@chemtrailsoverthesun

[mostfandomimagines]

Imagine: Doran watching you and is unimpressed that you are visiting Myrcella in Dorne with the fact that Tywin Lannister is your father

[franzkafkagf]

once i write that rhargar/elia longfic is OVER for y‘all😭

[torchbearerkyle]

Game of Thrones didn’t do justice to Dorne, the Dorne Plot and Princess Arianne. Her chapters were EASILY the best in a Feast For Crows and the way that she handles what she think is her father’s rejection is so realistic, coming from a young adult with daddy issues.

The fans who only watched the show will never know about the gem that is Princess Arianne. They have robbed us of our queen🙏🏽 and the good characterisation of the sand snakes

[targwh0re]

The Sand Snakes

[Most characters cut; those who remained were changed to some extent]

Obara Sand - Prince Oberyn’s first born; A prickly, hot-tempered woman, long legged, calloused hands, rat brown hair tied up in a knot, and nearing 30. When her father came for her in Oldtown he threw down a spear and told her to pick her weapon, to which she chose the spear, leaving her prostitute mother behind whom not long after drank herself to death

Nymeria Sand “Lady Nym” - She is 25, slim and slender, with long jet black hair usually pulled back in a braid, which pronounces her widows peak. Her mother was a Volantene highborn woman of the noblest blood. Whilst Nym stole all the beauty from Obara she was no less deadly and has been described as vengeful

Tyene Sand - Born from a Septa, she is described as having golden hair, deep blue eyes, dimples that bloom on her cheeks when she smiles, fair of skin, and her voice is both gentle and sweet. Though her hands were not calloused as with Obara, they were just as deadly due to her adeptness for poisons. She and Princess Arianne Martell are as close as sisters, having grown up together, and even bedded the same man together whom took their maidenheads

Sarella Sand “Alleras the Sphinx” - The daughter of the Summer Islander Captain of the Feathered Kiss. She has light brown skin and an insatiable curiosity which strikes up a love for Oldtown in her. It is theorized that she is currently in the Citadel disguised as Alleras the Sphinx (Alleras is Sarella spelled backwards, both characters are half Dornish and half Southern Islander) studying to become a Maester

Elia Sand “Lady Lance/El” - The oldest child of The Red Viper and Ellaria Sand, named after her late aunt Princess Elia Martell. She has her father’s eyes and also wears her hair in a braid. She and Obella are described as worshiping their elder sisters, such as they are worshipped by their younger sisters. Her weapon of choice is without question a lance

Obella Sand - the second daughter of the Prince and his long time paramour, she is described as a terror in the pools of the Water Garden, and is currently a Cupbearer to the Castellan of Sunspear, Manfrey Martell

Dorea Sand - She, like most of her siblings, share the shape of her fathers eyes and is named after her Uncle and the Prince of Sunspear and Dorne, Doran Martell

Loreza Sand “Loree” - The youngest child has just turned 7 and is accompanying her mother Ellaria to Hellholt, which is the seat of Lord Harmen Uller, her grandfather

[martellspear]

very happy to announce that the House Martell Week will take place next month! remember to use the hashtag <3

[ginny-anime]

Sometimes I feel hypocritical for loving and supporting House Martell. But also talk shit about House Targaryen sometimes.

Like the Martells aren’t a monarchy as well😭

[martellweek]

"The Martell banner is a red sun pierced by a golden spear. Their words are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken."

— from january 13th to january 20th:

— #martell week • to celebrate house martell and its amazing characters;

— the "character of the day" category is an extra, you can just interact with the prompts ♡;

— remember to mark the posts with the tag :))

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

What Ellaria Sand would wear

[the-well-known-scout]

oberyn martell madness

[daenysthedreamer101]

House Martell of Sunspear

House words - "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken"

House colors - Gold, Red, and Orange

House sigil - A golden spear piercing a red sun on an orange field

Region - Dorne

Culture - Andal, Rhoynish

Language - Common tongue

Religion - Faith of the Seven

Seat - Sunspear

During Aegon's Conquest Dorne was the only kingdom left unconquered and they joined the Seven Kingdoms a hundred years later through marriage

[the-golden-viper-of-dorne]

@eliamartellappreciation @sayruq @eliamartell-lover @houseofjaqen @1nsaankahanhai-bkr @eliaxrhaegar @forcesmuggler @sun-of-dorne @dornedaily @thenoteofdeath @housemartellofsunspear @fuckyeaheliamartell @irisewithsunyourisewiththemoon @askmamaindia @her-gentle-prison @ofthcsun @thequeenthatcouldhavebeen @songsforelia @oberynymeros

@martellsource @fyeahmartells @amaati

@chemtrailsoverthesun

[lego-asoiaf-fan-minifigs]

Doran Martell, gouty Prince of Doran, a patient man who nonetheless craves vengeance for his sister's death

Here's my LEGO adaptation of alexandrokayart's Doran Martell fanart, linked below

[asoiafreadthru]

DORAN NYMEROS MARTELL, Lord of Sunspear, Prince of Dorne,

His wife, MELLARIO, of the Free City of Norvos,

Their children:

PRINCESS ARIANNE, their eldest daughter, heir to Sunspear,

PRINCE QUENTYN, their elder son,

PRINCE TRYSTANE, their younger son,

His siblings:

His sister, [PRINCESS ELIA], wed to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, slain during the Sack of King’s Landing,

Their children:

[PRINCESS RHAENYS], a young girl, slain during the Sack of King’s Landing,

[PRINCE AEGON], a babe, slain during the Sack of King’s Landing,

His brother, PRINCE OBERYN, the Red Viper,

His household:

AREO HOTAH, a Norvoshi sellsword, captain of guards,

MAESTER CALEOTTE, counselor, healer, and tutor,

His knights and lords bannermen:

EDRIC DAYNE, Lord of Starfall.

[poolsidescientist]

Akemi from Blue Eye Samurai and Arianne Martell from ASOIAF would get each other.

[juletheghoul]

Unbroken

AN: I have been toying around with this idea for a couple of years at this point-the idea of being Elia's lady in waiting, and being aggressively pursued by her brother, Oberyn. I imagine him to be younger, wilder, but just as passionate. There is no Ellaria yet, there is no betrayal, just two people who cannot get enough of each other and Oberyn using his position for nothing but mischief. This is quite obviously before the nastiness that we all know befalls House Martell, lets live in it a while! I have a whole drama planned out for them in my head so I might actually write it all out - lets see if I can find the time lol. (in the moodboard above, the face you see is how I imagine Elia to be, reader is still completely nondescript!) This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine- hope you enjoy! 🧡

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Pairing: Oberyn x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk **pregnancy**

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist 

Her skirts swirl in the wind, whipping around her legs like sand. They were the colour of dusk, burnt oranges and yellows, favouring her golden skin, and her dark eyes. Elia Martell–all the Martells–looked best in these colours. You smile at her as you pour her a cup of wine, indulging her despite her delicate constitution. 

“This is the last of it my Princess,” you fill the cup halfway, “You know it does not sit well.”

“Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes, sipping at the wine, “you are worse than Doran.” 

You sigh, goodnaturedly, until one of the guards of Sunspear comes, interrupting the Princess enjoying the non-existent breeze.  

“My princess, my lady,” He speaks, addressing you respectively, “The Prince, Oberyn requests your company-”

“Oh what could my brother possibly want from me right now?” She huffs out a breath, her winecup getting the brunt of her annoyance. 

“My apologies Princess, it is not your company he asks for.” He bows his head in deference, his gaze then moving to you. “My lady, Prince Oberyn awaits.” 

Your heart races to hear him calling for you, despite it not being the first time. Elia laughs, and dismisses you graciously. “Go then, my lady. You cannot keep The Red Viper waiting for long, he is prone to sulk, or fight.” Her tinkling laugh follows you where the guard leads, ringing out as you make your way towards his chambers. 

You smile to yourself as you walk the halls of Sunspear, the sound of your soft steps ringing out, bouncing off the tiles and the high, arched ceilings. Your heart feels like a bird in the cage of your ribs, fluttering wildly as you finally make it to the giant door leading to him. 

You meet the solid wall of his back when the guard opens his chamber door, he is sitting at his desk by the window, head down and quill scratching across a piece of parchment. His head turns at the sound of the door, and the quill is discarded. His eyes are lively when they meet yours, full of mischief and devilment. 

“You called for me, my Prince?” You try, genuinely, try to keep the smile off your face. “Is there something you desire of me?” He narrows his eyes, rising and slinking over like some big, predatory cat. He is so tall, his shoulders so broad and the cut of his robes only serves to highlight his best features. The breadth of him, the trim waist, the enchanting vision of his throat and chest on display. All of it conspiring to make you ache to touch him. He laughs low, the sound hardening your nipples. 

“Just you, my flower.” He doesn’t so much reach for you, as strike, like his namesake. His arms wrapping around your waist quick enough to pull a gasp from you. His lips descend quickly, pressing against your neck, his tongue following closely behind and all you can do for a moment is gasp in delight, gathered up in his arms with your hands pressed against his chest.

“This is why you pull me away from the Princess? Because you cannot contain your passion for a few hours my Prince?” His hands travel, landing heavy on your backside, while his mouth travels from your shoulder, up to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, a kiss that pushes everything but him from your mind.

“Yes, my love, I cannot contain my passion for you for even a heartbeat.” He speaks the words, turning your heart, and your cunt to liquid for him, before his deft hands pull at the laces and fastenings of your dress. 

“My Prince, I am to serve-” He pulls the dress up and off, leaving you in your small clothes, “Your sister, I am to serve–” He cuts off the words with another kiss and this time you moan into his mouth, heart pounding between your legs, knowing even now as you protest that you will let him do whatever he wants, that you need him to.

“My sister is too greedy with you, too selfish.” He undoes his robe, slipping it off to fall at his feet as he herds you towards his bed. 

“She keeps you to herself, when she knows of my desire for you.” you tumble into his linens, the smell of him surrounding you, spicy and sweet, like desert heat, fiery peppers, sweet and fragrant oranges. 

He slots his hips between your legs, and his cock is so hard it makes you gasp, the fabric of his breeches dampening when he grinds against the small clothes that cover your sex. 

“You are insatiable–Oberyn!” You gasp his name when he tears the small clothes from your body, his impatience to have you naked and open to him making him ravenous. He laughs, eyes like black diamonds as he practically kicks his breeches off in his haste to get his cock out. 

“I am unwell, my love, truly and deeply sick with want.” He moans the last word when he finally fits himself at the mouth of your cunt, slipping in with one brutal thrust. 

“Gods, yes my love, this is what I needed, to be buried up to my balls in this sweet little cunt.” He moans, his tone obscene as he rocks himself inside you. 

Your arousal is something as fierce as he, the fullness of him only further inflaming your passion. It is always like this with him, never dull, never calm, always an inferno in your veins and in your lungs. He passes it on to you, his fire catching on your skin and soon, you are clutching to him, begging him, your arousal coating him and dripping onto his bed. 

“Yes, yes–” You chant, in tune with every roll of his hips. The sun shining through the window paints everything in his colours. 

“Did you miss me, my love? Miss me here?” He punctuates the word with a hard snap of his hips, it makes your breasts bounce, makes you let out a whine. 

“Yes my Prince, yes, always miss you–” You open your legs wider, giving him more room to get deeper, to fuck you harder, “Oberyn, you’re splitting me open.” You pull him forward, the temptation of his neck is too great, you suck a mark into it, relishing the way he groans. His hand pulls yours up and over your head, making your chest jut out for his tongue. He teases at your sensitive nipples as his cock strokes, and strokes, and strokes until you are on the precipice, on the dagger's edge of pleasure. 

“I can feel it, ready to burst for me–” He smiles, drunk on the pleasure and when he lets go of your hands and presses his thumb to your clit you unravel, clenching and soaking him in your release. “There it is, that’s it-” He speeds up, burying his face into your neck while you take what he gives, his chest pressed up against yours, sweat slicked and warm. 

His pace falters and you feel the hot jet of his seed inside, he groans, changing to a dirty grind as he comes deep. 

He collapses once he’s milked himself dry, his comforting weight pressing you to his feather bed. Your legs settle around his waist, ankles locking on the swell of his ass and your arms wind around his neck to play with his sweat-soaked hair. He hums as you trail your nails down, tickling at the smooth skin of his back. Your lips press kisses against his shoulder where it rests under your chin. This is your favourite part, being full of him, surrounded by him, loved by him, and pouring all of your affection and love back into him in return. 

“Are you quite comfortable, my Prince?” You scratch at his scalp as he takes deep breaths, his softening cock still buried deep. 

“Oh yes,” He huffs the words into your neck, his tongue licking a stripe up to your ear, “I could spend the rest of my life here, cock inside you, my body on yours.” 

You laugh, full throated. 

“Oh I bet you could, rutting away until I’m raw.” You bring your hands to his face, making him face you and you are once again struck by his beauty, no matter how many times you find yourself in his bed, he still makes your heart race. You swipe your thumb across his plump lower lip, and fix the unruly state of his hair. “I could stay here too, Oberyn. I could be here, under you, with you, beside you always. I love you.” You press your mouth to his, and he deepens the kiss, his ardour burning just as brightly. 

“I love you, my flower, and what we’ve created. I cannot wait to meet my son.” He brings his hand down, to the little swell of your belly, the one that's barely showing yet. You laugh again, and he smiles, his hand warm against your womb. 

“A boy is it? How would you divine that? I am barely showing–”

“I know it is a boy, I can feel it. He will be my little viper, a menace to his instructors, he will have the sweet face of his mother, and the fierce hunger of his father.” He removes himself with a hiss, pulling out and lowering himself until he presses kiss after kiss to the little bump. “Won’t you my boy? You will be the terror and delight of my life.”

He smiles up at you, bright eyed, with all of the love you feel for him shining back at you. 

“You, my love, will give birth to princes and princesses, the most beautiful children in all of the world.” He always got like this after, sentimental and romantic and it always made you happy enough to cry. 

“Yes my love, he will be all that and more.” You pull him up, wrapping his arms around you to lay your head on his chest. “You know I must go soon, I cannot stay in bed with you, despite my wish to.” He sighs, resigned. 

“Yes, Elia awaits, just another moment, and I will let you go.” You laugh, and bury your face into his neck. 

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