In which Valarr Targaryen is the embodiment of Venus-Kissed By Aphrodite.
About:: Headcanons of Reader-drunk!Valarr.
Valarr Targaryen, the epitome of Kissed By Aphrodite, soul and all. He believes in the beauty of everything–about you. His wicked sense of valor, honor, and the weight of being the heir of the heir, all comes collapsing…because of you.
He believes in beauty. He’s Venus, as a boy.
Valarr loves the beauty of every little aspect of you. His fingers, it focuses on you. His touches, as soft as his silver struck hair. He believes in beauty, and gentle–believes in you. He’s literally Venus as a dragon, with an arousal so accurate, he sets off the beauty in you. And you, oh you little minx–with your wicked little sense of humor, you’d get him all on your lips, devoured and devoted.
Warnings:: Fluffy and poetically sensual as possible? ᵎ!ᵎ Possibilities of an NSFW! version. ᵎ!ᵎ Will TRY to do the best of my abilities to make this as sensually evocative and poetic as possible. ᵎ!ᵎ Valarr being drunk off of reader–figuratively and literally. ᵎ!ᵎ Aerion version next… ᵎ!ᵎ Oneshot version incoming! ᵎ!ᵎ Based off the song ‘Venus as a boy’ by Bjork. ᵎ!ᵎ Okay–maybe some poetic intimacy as well…
Pairing: Valarr x adorned with love!Reader.
Venusboy!Valarr, who was Venus as a boy. A prince kissed by the greatest of dragons, gifted with valor, blessed of paragon, and adorned with the epitome of perfection. He was kissed–no, graced, by Aphrodite; his visage and essence, every sculpted detail of him, bloomed with resplendent sublime. He was the heir of the heir–impeccability and duty, an imperative focus, divinely commanded by a silver of time—the moment—his pair of lavender-covered fields and Dornish sunset eyes had woken.
Yet, as his softened amethyst and topaz pair of eyes drifted mindlessly onto you during a feast, a blessing disguised in boredom, he knew. Oh, how he knew. Valarr knew the moment his gaze fell on you that you would be the catalyst of his life. You see, this man wasn’t one to love in the name of love. Valarr was habituated to envision that most marriages were about duty, power, and alliances in his structured, rigid mind. Though, as you sat there, ornamented in the colors of his mix-matched wonders, lavender coated…with that aureate halo, exuding from you effortlessly, laughing at some ‘’idiotic’’ jest Matarys shared… Oh, how his poor mind was inflamed into nothing and reborn like a phoenix. You, you little…goddess, you. Knocking down the iron walls of his palace of a mind—a curated resemblance of his father—with ease, grace, and your stupidly–wait, no, your achingly beautiful smile, that pretty gift you grace anyone with carelessly, as if it was just some…Heavenly present you could give to anyone.
Venusboy!Valarr, who adorns you with his all, devotion running through every sense in his body–redirected towards you. This man is a full-time yearner and a prince off the side. A ‘’deprived’’ carnivore whose greed asks for more, for your needs. A man who’s so desperately, hopelessly smitten that it aches in the depths of his stomach, gnaws in his mind, and hurts…below. His want–no, need, for your everything is so ineffable, his love language is practically every category on rotation, on repeat, like a continuous cycle depending on your every fancy. He’s Venus, a statue of an Amorist.
Venusboy!Valarr, who literally only daydreams, dreams, and thinks about you. You weren’t this constant thought in the back of his mind, disturbing—haunting him anytime he drifted into his contemplations, you WERE in his mind—you ARE, his mind. To the moon and back, from the Red Keep to Winterfell, in his conscious, subconscious, in his soul…you weren’t just haunting him, you were marching into his mind, bold and confident, carrying a saccharine plague he willingly volunteers to get sick from. He was ill, ill because of you. The lovesick disease you just had,
—You were like poison.
An enticing…scent, so sweet–a taste, bite, so deadly.
It was the only thing keeping him going. He was immune and permeable, ubiquitously.
Venusboy!Valarr, whose love language is of every aspect, rotated constantly like clockwork. He believed in beauty; he was like Venus as a boy. He was athirst for you, body and all, sets off the beauty in you, sees you in a way of curated supernal. This man drank you in like the summer wine, boasting with odes, ballads, and poems. He was as poetic as it could get–higher than Shakespeare. He would force Matarys and little Aemon, inducing philosophical rants regarding you, proclaiming how your beauty, inwardly and outwardly, was ‘’of the higher planes,’’ a concept that was perfect, scientifically perfect–no, BEYOND perfect, beyond the laws of what could be real and is real. Goes deeper than the depths of the Dornish sea, goes deeper than any knowledge of any maesters, and lingers.
Venusboy!Valarr, whose wicked sense of humor, painfully beautiful, other-worldly beauty of both the silver-adorned and gold-clad dynasty, and his body, mind, soul, touch, fingers, all focused on you. He explored the depths of your silk-embellished vines of flowers, explored the taste of you. Arousal, so accurate. Love, so…precise. He was reduced to a man fully devoted to you. (god forbid a husband just wants to put your needs before anyone else?!). His emotions, actions, and decisions, all centered on you. It’s as if you conditioned him to be your personal servant, softening the dragon’s fire, reducing it to warmth, and a man who worships you more than he had ever worshipped the old gods and the new, all at the same time. This man was the epitome, embodiment, quintessential, and ultimate of a yearner. His love for you was insatiable and satiable, rough and soft, all just acted upon the name of his love. (This man would totally kiss the floors of the Red Keep where you walked)
Venusboy!Valarr, who would openly, verbally express and convey his love for you, as if every hour shared between you was just a private, intimate moment, a world, a day, just revolving around you both. It was so grand and overboard, to the point where your ladies and the lords of the court would seethe with jealousy. The ladies would oftentimes whisper with envy and care about how ‘’you’re practically smothered with Valarr’s love.’’ The lords would complain constantly among themselves about how their very wives would always incessantly “nag” them about treating them just as much as how Valarr would treat you. It was such a hot topic that sparked debates and gossip; the echoes of their gossip had reached the very streets of Kings Landing. Seven hells, there was no need for any gossip anyway, when he would already show his devotion to you in the common’s eye. It’s like…Valarr was the staple of affection; your whole relationship was just screaming, “treating your wife as an angel sent from the seven gods themselves.” It wasn’t even verbally proclaimed, but hell, it was most definitely stated in the way he would look at you.
Venusboy!Valarr, who would follow you around, grabbing the laces and silks of your dress, roaming his fingers, looming like a ghost, exactly like that one scene in Pride and prejudice, where Bingley had followed Jane Bennet around like a lost puppy, totally entranced by her.
Venusboy!Valarr, who describes you as a gift sent from the seven heavens to bless this earth with your beauty and grace. He would ramble like a mantra how “You were as if every god, angel, and dragon had given you a divine gift themselves of every heavenly quality a goddess could acquire.” Valarr would yap about how you had every quality of just pure seraphic and beauty, would speak of how you were ethereally elysian, how your laugh was the symphonies of his dreams, how your face, body, and mind were architectured by the gods—every feature and function of you just curated with attentiveness and care. You were the sun’s lively, cheerful human version, radiating off the golden vibrations, the moon’s mystifying siren, alluring him to his “doom”, and the universe’s spoiled, spoiled daughter. You were just everything a man, woman, or organism would desire. And everything, Valarr thirsted for.
Authors notes: Aerion version will be in the works, more versions will be promised (all just "evocative" sensual ways to describe the AKOTSK men as down bad for reader) and an extended version of this will also be uploaded later at night (I think??) ALSO, should I make a oneshot version of this ++ with dialogue and Valarr yearning EVEN MORE?! 😭😭
I wanted this to be as poetic, mustering up any forms of describing my sentences, I know it may be odd for some archaic words to be implemented but I just LOVE them, Idk, I like to express myself and my writing as such.
Also, like in the "warnings," an NSFW version will also be published (So many works, I'm worried I'm all talk and no actions) but I will be making a more organized list for me to remember. Anyway, hoped you all liked it, I didn't really add any dialogue, but I just wanted to be descriptive.
Thinking about how Ser Duncan the Tall's first kiss was Lady Rohanne Webber - who was the grandmother of Tywin Lannister.
With it being confirmed that Dunk is an ancestor of Brienne of Tarth and Rohanne is an ancestor of Jaime; i feel like they were just meant to be in every life.
pairings : Modern!Valarr Targaryen x OC (Aurora Arryn)
warnings / tags : fluff, oc embarrassing herself publicly (you may or may not get second-hand embarrassment), oc being borderline mentally ill, organic encounter
word count : 2.3k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀AURORA
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀King’s Landing University, Freshman Year
Months have passed since Aurora's encounter with the man that had saved her from the doom of getting lost in such an unfamiliar building.
It is safe to say that not once has she stepped foot in that construction ever again. Out of fear that she might lose her way once more.
It was now the midst of their finals week—stressed out university students were scattered all over the campus of King's Landing University.
Aurora had made friends during her first semester as a nursing student at the institution. Which, coincidentally, were cousins.
But she paid it no mind as both were also as close as best friends.
Her friends—Matarys Targaryen and Daella Targaryen—have invited her to study for their finals at the campus café once they had finished their last lecture of the day.
She had agreed, of course. She prefers to study with people whom she can explain the study materials to. Unlike her solo study sessions at her flat where she explains the concepts to either her wall, or her stuffed toy, and looking like a schizophrenic woman.
Aurora had volunteered to get to the café before her two friends.
During the passed months of her freshman year on campus; with her overwhelming adjustment to a new environment, foreign faces, an unfamiliar place, and the very stressful college courses—Aurora had paid little mind to the man with contrasting eye colors and a head full of brown locks and a streak of white within it.
Not once had she seen that familiar stranger ever again throughout those months.
Perhaps due to her refusal to step foot in the Business Building?
One might never know.
Nevertheless, it is clear to say that she has forgotten the face of the friendly stranger that had saved her from hours of walking all over that building.
As she texted her friends' group-chat, she had already been walking from the Nursing Building and towards the direction of the campus café.
She had put her phone away and she was just mindlessly wandering her eyes through her surroundings, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.
Up until she made eye contact with a stranger, and at the same time, she had remembered a distant memory of her old friend tripping down the last three-steps of the stairs.
Aurora had laughed—out loud, all alone, at nothing—while looking directly at a stranger straight in the eyes.
The stranger—who seemed to also be a student, with dark long hair tied back, paired with hazel eyes—had been smiling with his friends, before his face had dropped after Aurora had laughed while looking at him.
Aurora's face had also dropped, giving the man a slight smile and looking away as she passes him.
She felt the pair of eyes looking at her as she passed by, and she had, once again, pulled her phone out due to discomfort of the situation.
Aurora—now flustered and immensely embarrassed—immediately messaged her friends.
Before Aurora could see Matarys's—or perhaps Daella's—response. She had put her phone back in her pocket as she spots the familiar architecture of the campus café and went inside.
The café was more crowded than on a usual weekday, meaning almost all tables were occupied.
Except for the one Aurora had spotted in a corner—a table with four chairs—then proceeded to claim before anyone else could.
She had put her purse down, and took out her wallet. Deciding to order herself coffee while waiting for her friends. She knew she was going to buy more once they had arrived—one cup of coffee was never enough for Aurora when studying.
After getting her hot cup of caramel macchiato, she had proceeded to sit down at the table.
Upon sitting down, Aurora had once again pulled out her phone to face the catastrophe of her embarrassment once again.
As Aurora had seen Matarys's response—which was just laughing at her, and their whole overall reactions making her feel even more flustered—a voice had called out.
"Excuse me, Miss?" The masculine voice had said beside her.
Aurora turns her head and lifts it up to see the man, who looked... familiar for some particular reason that she could not put her finger on.
"Yes?" She asks, "Is there anything you need?"
"I was wondering if one of your seats are occupied?" The man starts, "I only wish to ask if it is alright with you if I sit for a few moments? The other seats are occupied, and I need to pass the time while I wait for my next lecture to start." He says.
Aurora immediately gestured to the chair in front her, "Oh no, go ahead!" She says, "I am only waiting for my friends to arrive, which could take for a few more moments. You can stay as much as you'd like." She smiles.
The man smiled back at her and proceeded to put his satchel on the table and took a seat across Aurora, "Thank you." He says.
He then uncapped his take-out cup of coffee and poured a packet of sugar.
Aurora, in turn, had fumbled trying to uncover the drinking hole of the lid. Before taking occasional sips of her coffee.
The memories and unwavering thoughts regarding her embarrassment from earlier was still clear in her head. It took almost all of her might to stop herself from groaning out loud.
This, of course, did not go unnoticed by the man in front of her. Watching her fumble over the cover of her cup’s drinking hole, her eyes obviously avoiding his own as though she was overwhelmed with her thoughts and she was embarrassed.
“Apologies,” He starts, “I do not mean to pry.” He says, “But are you alright?” He asks, “If I may have made you uncomfortable in any way, I deeply apologize. It is no issue for me to move.” He worries.
Aurora then finally looked at the man, putting down her cup of coffee, and shaking her head and hands simultaneously as a form of refusal and reassurance.
“No, please, it is not your fault.” She says, “Apologies if I had given you the wrong impression.” She furrows her brows, “It was nothing that you’ve done.” She reassures him, “It’s just that…” She pauses, “I have done something incredibly humiliating just moments ago.”
The man’s previously tense posture had lessened, relieved from Aurora’s reassurance. Though, slight concern still remained on his features, “What happened that caused such discomfort for you?” He asks, “You can tell me. I find myself to be a good listener.” He says softly
Aurora had hesitated for several minutes, her desire to protect herself from further humiliation at war with her need to relieve herself of the tension she’s been holding.
Until she took a deep breath—to calm herself—and finally surrendered to the comforting presence of the stranger she deems familiar but does not know from what or where.
She spoke up, “I was walking to this café from my lecture hall. I was just looking around my surroundings, and just being an airhead in general.” She says, half-jesting and half-serious, “But then I made eye contact with this man at the very same moment I had remembered a funny memory.” She inhales, “Then I just laughed, while looking him in the eye.” She cringes, recalling a memory she wishes to erase, “I can still remember his expression and I feel so embarrassed.” She had started ranting, “I did not know what to do so I just smiled at him and looked away, and I had to pass by him.” She started pouting out of frustration with herself, “I wanted to apologize but I just panicked and kept walking.” Then she paused, “Sorry, I just realized I’m rambling. But yeah, that is what happened.” She pressed her lips together to refrain herself from talking further.
The man, who had attentively listened to her talk and rant with a controlled expression and without interrupting, slowly started smiling.
“Well, that certainly is an eccentric experience.” He says, unfolding his hands.
Aurora groaned, covering her face, “He probably thinks I’m weird, or schizophrenic, or mad.” She mumbles through her palms.
The man had then chuckled, “Just because you had an eccentric experience does not mean you are all alone in having them.” He says, “So what if he thought you ‘weird’? Everyone is weird if that is the case.” He comforts her, “Plus, I do not think he took that interaction too seriously. Maybe strange, yes, but anyone would think that.” He says, “And we are all university students, there are bigger things he would probably be worrying about than a girl laughing and smiling at him while walking. You truly have nothing to worry about too much.” He says, “But your feelings are still valid nonetheless.”
Aurora had then looked up from her hands, curling them into soft fists and lightly pressing them against her lips, and looked at the man.
“Really?” She asked softly, doubt still simmering in her mind.
“Yes, we all have our own embarrassing moments.” He smiles at her, “I’m sure after days, or even hours, have passed, you will just laugh at the memory.”
Aurora had thought for a few minutes, before realizing he was right.
“Yeah, I really would.” She says, a light smile on her lips.
“Precisely.” He said softly, smiling back.
There was a slightly short pause.
“Thank you.” Aurora says, “Truly. You helped a lot.”
The man’s face had relaxed, “It was no problem.” He says.
Then a long, comforting silence had stretched between them.
Both Aurora and the man were just looking at one other—as though trying to study each other’s faces, and deducing each other’s light expressions.
The silence was charged as Aurora’s eyes roamed all over the man’s face.
Then she looked him in the eyes; his unique, contrasting eye colors that she now had just noticed.
‘Why does he look so familiar?’ She asks herself.
‘Where do I know you from?’ Aurora wanted to ask him, but refrained herself.
The man, in turn, had looked like he was trying to study each freckle on Aurora’s face.
‘Who are you?’ Aurora kept thinking, ‘Why do you look like you’re sculpted by the gods themselves?’ She thought, ‘Am I just imagining you? Are you real?’ She doubts.
The comforting tension was then cut off as she went and pinched herself in the arm, and the man looked at the analog watch resting on his left wrist.
The man’s expression had returned to a controlled expression as he had realized the time, “It seems I am now required to go to my lecture.” He says.
Aurora—who had been shocked by her own pinch—perked up and said, “Oh, of course.” She says.
“Thank you for letting me sit with you as I pass the time…?” He pauses, indicating that he was trying to get her name as he held his hand out.
Aurora immediately got the message and took his hand, “Aurora.” She says.
“Well, thank you, Aurora, for the wonderful conversation.” He says as he stands up to gather his things.
“It was nice to meet you, and thank you again for the therapy session.” She jests.
The man had chuckled, before slinging his satchel over his shoulder.
They had looked at each other’s eyes once again, as if waiting for one another to speak.
Until Aurora’s phone had vibrated on the table, once again cutting off their silent communication.
“Well, then, goodbye, Aurora.” He smiles, “I hope to see you again somewhere in this campus.”
Aurora smiled back, “Yes, indeed. Goodbye.” She waves.
The man waves back before walking out of the café.
Aurora then looked down at her phone as she grabbed it, turning it on to see Matarys’s message.
Aurora had then looked up from the screen of her phone as she hears the door of the café opening.
She spots Matarys and Daella and waved them over, in which the duo had walked over with smiles on their faces.
Both of them had taken their seats, Daella beside Aurora, and Matarys across from her.
Matarys smiled mischievously, "So, how was the interaction with the stranger you laughed at earlier?" He jests.
Daella let out a laugh, "Ugh, do not remind me." Aurora had groaned—though there was a small smile on her face.
It was then that Aurora had realized that she did not feel as humiliated and flustered as before.
Thanks to the help of the man who had comforted her without asking for anything in return.
