#hotd oc

[pacipinka]

Maekar and Dyanna being cuties + them with the Maekarlings

[housettargaryenn]

A COURT OF DRAGONS AND DESIRES

AERION TARGARYEN | JACAERYS VELARYON

summary: in which aelara targaryen, twin to aerion targaryen and sister to jacaerys velaryon, becomes the one flame both princes cannot help but burn for

parings: aerion targaryen x targaryen!reader x jacaerys velaryon

warnings: targcest | smut

a/n: just to clarify— this is only an au

— In the year 116 AC, on a night when the moon hung blood-red over Dragonstone and the sea churned black beneath storm-laden skies, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen brought forth twins into a world already drowning in fire and ambition. The boy came first—Aerion, screaming his fury at the indignity of birth, his violet eyes blazing even as the midwives cleaned the blood from his pale skin. The girl followed mere moments later, silent and watchful, her gaze already too knowing for an infant newly torn from the womb.

They said afterward that the dragons sang that night. That Caraxes and Syrax both loosed flames into the darkness, painting the castle walls in shades of crimson and gold. That the very stones of Dragonstone trembled with something that was not quite celebration, not quite warning but prophecy, perhaps, of what these children would become.

The girl was named Aelara Targaryen.

And from the moment she drew her first breath, she understood what it meant to be born of fire and blood.

—

A couple years have passed since that storm wracked night, and the realm has learned what the dragons knew from the beginning: that Princess Aelara Targaryen is perhaps one the most dangerous creatures.

She is beautiful, of course— all Targaryens are beautiful, with their silver gold hair and eyes the color of amethyst, their features carved with the otherworldly perfection of Old Valyria. But Aelara's beauty is not the soft, delicate kind that inspires songs and sighs. It is the beauty of a blade freshly forged, of wildfire contained in crystal, of a dragon coiled and waiting. Men look at her and feel their breath catch not with desire alone, but with the primal recognition that they are in the presence of something that could destroy them without effort, without mercy, without a second thought.

She moves through the halls of Dragonstone like a queen already crowned, though no crown yet graces her. There is a particular grace to her bearing, a calculated precision in every gesture, every glance, every word that falls from her lips like honey laced with poison. She has inherited her father's cunning and her mother's iron will, but she has refined these traits into something uniquely her own a kind of brilliant, terrible clarity that allows her to see through people as though they were made of glass.

Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince himself, looks at his daughter and sees a mirror of his own ambition, his own ruthlessness. But even he does not fully comprehend the depths of what burns within her. Even he does not realize that she has already surpassed him in the art of manipulation, in the subtle dance of power that requires not just strength but perfect understanding of human weakness.

Rhaenyra sees more. A mother always does. She watches Aelara with a mixture of pride and something that might be fear the recognition that she has brought into the world a creature who will reshape it according to her own design, who will let nothing and no one stand between her and what she desires. And what Aelara desires, she takes.

But it is not crowns or thrones that occupy the princess's thoughts, though she would wear both with devastating grace. It is not even the great game of power that consumes so many of her house, though she plays it better than most lords three times her age.

No, what consumes Aelara Targaryen— what drives her, shapes her, defines the very core of her being is something far more dangerous, far more destructive than mere political ambition.

It is the love of her brothers. And her love for them in return.

—

Jacaerys Velaryon is the eldest, born two years before the twins. He is everything a crown prince should be: brave, principled, fiercely loyal to his mother and her cause. He has spent his life proving himself worthy of the name he bears, of the throne he will one day inherit, of the dragon he rides with such natural grace that even his detractors must acknowledge his skill.

He is also desperately, irrevocably in love with his sister.

It is a love that has grown from childhood affection into something far more complex, far more consuming. He knows her in ways that no one else can. The silent language of shared glances, the instinctive understanding that comes from years of standing side by side against the world's judgment. He sees past the masks she wears for others, past the calculated charm and the dangerous beauty, to the brilliant, ambitious, achingly human woman beneath.

She is his mirror, his match, his equal in every way that matters. When they are together, there is a rightness to it that defies explanation, defies the laws of gods and men. They move in perfect synchronization, their thoughts aligned, their purposes unified. He makes her laugh— truly laugh, not the practiced sound she offers to courtiers and suitors and she makes him feel seen in a way that no one else ever has.

But Jacaerys is not alone in his devotion.

Aerion Targaryen, Aelara's twin, her other half, the boy who entered the world mere moments before her, loves her with an intensity that borders on madness. Where Jacaerys's love is tender and protective, Aerion's is possessive and all-consuming. He believes —no, he knows— that she belongs to him in a way that transcends ordinary bonds of family or affection.

They shared a womb. They drew their first breaths within moments of each other. They are two halves of the same whole, fire and fire, dragon and dragon, bound together by something deeper than blood, more primal than choice.

Aerion is everything that Jacaerys is not: arrogant where his older brother is humble, cruel where Jacaerys is kind, reckless where Jacaerys is measured. His temper is legendary, his vanity absolute, his capacity for violence both casual and terrifying. He is beautiful in the way that wildfire is beautiful mesmerizing and deadly, impossible to control, destined to consume everything in its path.

And he wants his sister with a hunger that nothing else can satisfy.

Their relationship is a secret kept in shadows and stolen moments, built on shared fire and a history that binds them more tightly than any marriage vow. When they are together, the world falls away, and there is only the two of them. Twin flames burning in the darkness, understanding each other in ways that words cannot capture. He knows the taste of her lips, the sound of her breath, the way her body fits against his as though they were designed to be together.

She is his, and he is hers, and nothing, not duty, not honor, not even the love of their brother will change that fundamental truth. Or so he believes

—

But Aelara Targaryen is not a prize to be won, not a possession to be claimed. She is a dragon in her own right, and dragons bow to no one.

She loves both her brothers, though in different ways, with different intensities. With Aerion, there is the primal recognition of shared essence, the dangerous thrill of matching fire with fire. With Jacaerys, there is something deeper, something that feels like coming home after a long journey through hostile lands.

She is brilliant enough to see the destruction that this triangle of desire will inevitably cause. Cunning enough to manipulate the situation to her advantage, to play one brother against the other when it serves her purposes. Principled enough to be bound by her own code of honor, even as she breaks every other rule that society has imposed upon her.

And narcissistic enough, though she would never name it as such, to believe that she can control this fire, that she can have both brothers' devotion without watching everything burn.

She is wrong, of course.

Because the hatred between Jacaerys and Aerion grows with each passing day, fed by jealousy and resentment and the unbearable knowledge that the woman they both love shares herself between them. Jacaerys envies the twin bond, the fact that Aerion and Aelara entered the world together, that they share something he can never have. Aerion burns with rage over the history between Aelara and Jacaerys, the easy intimacy, the way she softens for their older brother in ways she never does for anyone else.

And always, always, there is the whispered word that Aerion wields like a blade: bastard. The reminder that Jacaerys's claim to legitimacy is built on a lie that everyone knows but no one dares speak aloud. The suggestion that perhaps the true Targaryen prince— the one with undisputed blood— should be the one to stand at Aelara's side.

What makes this rivalry unbearable is not distance or abstraction. It is proximity. It is blood. These are not distant suitors or political opponents who can be dismissed or destroyed. These are brothers, bound by the same mother, the same legacy, the same dragon blood that runs hot and demanding through their veins.

Each believes that Aelara is meant to stand at his side. Each sees the other not just as a rival, but as a traitor. Someone who should support his claim, not contest it. And as they compete for her devotion, for her body, for her heart, the fragile balance of their family threatens to shatter into pieces that can never be made whole again.

—

This is the story of Aelara Targaryen, the dragon's daughter, the princess who holds the hearts of two princes in her hands and knows that she cannot keep both without destroying everything she loves.

The story of three siblings bound by blood and desire, by loyalty and betrayal, by love that is both salvation and damnation. Of how fire consumes even those who believe themselves immune to burning. Because in the house of the dragon, love can be just as destructive as war. And when dragons dance, the whole world burns.

The only question is: who will be left standing when the flames finally die?

* author note: i’ll also be publishing this on wattpad, so if you’re interested, you can check it out there @clairlunairexo

[slccpylady]

ASOIAF OCS WIKI

Done! I've made the templates for those who want to use them for your OCs

template 1:

template 2:

[irlplasticlamb]

prince rhaelor was the youngest son of the late king viserys and his young hightower wife, alicent. some mockingly called him an afterthought of a prince, a spare of the spare of the spare, but ladies of the court loved him the most. rhaelor was a giddy manchild, tall, artistic, courteous and stupid. as much as he adored gossip and wine, nothing could tower the devotion he felt towards his somber mother and his one eyed brother. (hotd oc)

prints + merch + c0mmission info pinned to my blog :)

[novembermorgon]

ormundmancer done . her name is mina meadows

[velvetcastel]

Princess Daenys Targaryen (oc) Lady of Raventree Hall.

She thought of a giant baby, but they were actually twins.

[amirightboys]

There, in King's Landing, or in Winterfell

Cregan is married to Rhaenyras's full sister. After her father dies, she sides with Rhaenyra and stays safe up north. But when Jaehaerys Targaryen is killed, the Greens decide they wouldn't let this stop there and go after her and Cregan's son.

Epilogue/Part 2

Does features kidnapping but I promise everything ends okay and the baby is not hurt! Sorry if the timeline is all wrong but I tried my best. Rickon is about 6 or 7 months old for extra context. Crossed posted to AO3.

She was always seen as the unfortunate sister, born right before her mother was cut open to deliver her brother. She was kind of forgotten by her father, more because she reminded him of what he did that day. Once he remarried and had new children, she was basically being raised by her big sister. She was basically an older sister in spirit to Rhaenyras's gaggle of princes.

But once she was needed, she was remembered again. Sure she had already been bleeding once a moon for a few years but he wanted a stronger allyship with the north after the young Stark had taken back his father's house from his regent uncle. He wanted to make sure this event hadn't shaken the support the north had for the crown. He had a daughter just about his age, no dragon to freeze in the north, and, sadly, so desperate to prove herself as his daughter as much as his beloved Rhaenyra that she wouldn't fight him. She would leave after Laena’s funeral, only hearing the news that Leonor had been murdered and her sister was remarrying on the road.

They didn't marry for a few weeks, spent them getting to know each other, as Cregan insisted on it. He didn't want to marry right away, as while the marriage was arranged he didn't want her to marry a stranger. She was surprised how much she liked the North, it wasn't warm literally or with its company but something about it felt like it was already welcoming her. Right before they married, Cregan gave her a coat made of a rich reddy brown wool and deer fur. She never remembered wearing brown before but after that she was always seen in it when she was outside for long, at least after the wedding.

Her cloak was much fancier than Cregan's was, with beads and embroidered with silver thread. She honestly was glad when she packed it away after the wedding, she already had so much attention drawn to her and showing that off just felt like an insult. There was no bedding ceremony, but they did consummation that night. He offered her an out but she insisted because she knew they both wanted to. From then on, she often spent the night in his room, so much so a year that she just moved into there. People wondered how she wasn't pregnant by then but so did she. She did everything she could but Cregan never said anything about it other than it'll happen when it will happen.

The second year she started praying in the Godswoods, even though it wasn't her faith she was desperate at this point. She wondered if one of them was barren but the maester said they shouldn't be. She worried it was her fault, she wondered if the gods were favouring Rhaenyras’ womb because she was the heir, and she was left with no favours. Then finally after two and a half years, she finally was pregnant. She was so happy that when she found out, she ran over to Cregan's office. She cheerfully told him the news and all he could say was how happy he was and he reminded her how he knew it would happen someday, and that it was today. The first few months were fine but once she started to show she started worrying. The worry grew with her belly. She was happy to be pregnant and have a baby, but she was terrified of the middle. She worried she would end up like her mother or Laena, and she didn't want either outcome.

She kept it inside and locked it up hoping it'd stay there. But it came out when she woke up in the middle of the night with pains when she was 8 moons along. She woke up Cregan and he rushed to the maester to tell him she was in labour. But once he checked on her, saying it was “practice labour pains”, it would pass and leave. As he left, she broke. Cregan couldn't get a word out of her for minutes until her breathing calmed down. She finally admitted her fear to him and all he could do was promise he would do anything to save her and their baby. She knew he wouldn't cut her up but she couldn't die like Laena either.

When she finally went into labor, everything seemed to happen so fast. She could hardly catch her breath before the next pain came and soon she was pushing. The sun was just setting as Rickon made his first cry. She felt she could finally breathe, a full deep breath in as the maester told her she had a boy. As she held him, the maester made a joke about how this was the fastest he's ever seen a first delivery, that he'd have to run for her next or either the baby may appear before him.

She felt like finally all her prayers were answered, she had a lovely husband and a baby she could live to see and raise. Cregan was so happy seeing her after the birth, she looked up from the baby to tell him he had an heir. Rickon had his father's hair and her eyes, a perfect little mix. When Rhaenyra visited, she already had another baby on the way, all while carrying her second with Daemon. It felt like she was showing off, she could barely be done having a baby she waited two years for and Rhaenyra was able to seem to have them at will. Rhaenyra told her that people were petitioning to take the Driftmark Throne away from Lucerys, in a moon they would be meeting in Kings Landing about it. Even though she wanted to support her nephew, she couldn't leave her newborn baby, and he was too young to travel that long.

Now she wished she could have gone, only to see her father one last time. She had barely been able to grasp the fact he had died when she read that Aegon had also been crowned king and wanted her support. She refused to answer, so Cregan didn't either. Neither answered until Prince Jacaerys came, agreeing to his terms and as they were ironing out the terms, the news that Lucerys had been killed had arrived. He demanded to leave and she wished him and his family well as he flew away. If only she knew how bad it would get from there.

---

She woke up just as the sun did that day, Cregan was still asleep though. She carefully got out of bed, put on her housecoat, then slowly opened and closed the door. She walked towards Rickon's room, ready to see him softly breathing as he would probably still be asleep. But when she looked in, he wasn’t in his crib. Quickly, she ran over to the adjoining room where his nurse maid slept, waking her up.

“Where's Rickon?” She looked around the room hoping he had just spent the night there.

“He should be in his crib ma'am, is he not?”

She didn't even answer, running back towards Cregan.

“Cregan! Rickons's gone!”

He immediately got up, asking where she had checked as he grabbed the nearest clothes to change into. They would then check all over Winterfell, telling anyone they came into their view to look for Rickon.

Soon Cregan was demanding no one be let out of Winterfell until his son was found. While Cregan refused to lose focus as he readied his men to search every inch, she was a ball of nerves. She worried she had done something wrong, should he have left him alone with a nurse maid so soon, should he have had his own guard, maybe he should have slept in their room until he could speak and cry out when a stranger came near him. She wanted to stay in Rickon's room, sitting by the fireplace hoping soon she could look over to see he was back in his crib and this was all a dream.

---

Cregan had demanded no one leave until they were checked over, especially if they had carts or luggage of any sort. He was about to check the sept when a few of his men came, “Sir, we believe you need to come to the gates.”

“What is it,” he followed them out as they explained.

“Everyone has allowed us to search them to clear them of the kidnapping. But some traders were trying to leave and refused to let us check their cart. We have 5 men currently watching over them and two others were supposed to get a few more to hold the traders in custody while the others search, they should be doing it now. We know it could be nothing but we figured they should get you in case.”

“You made the right call,” they all exited into the cold. As the guards see him near the gate, one holding what looks like a bundle of clothing calls for him,”My Lord, We Found Him!”

Cregan immediately ran over, soon seeing that they had hidden Rickon in a pile of furs and fabrics.

“He's breathing but not waking up,” he quickly handed Rickon to Cregan.

Cregan softly called out his name, rubbing his cheek. His eyes opened slightly before he fell asleep against Cregan's chest. Looking at one of his men, he commanded them to get the maester and meet him in Rickon's room. He tried to hurry as much as he could but worried if he ran, he may hurt his son. Before he entered back inside, he yelled out to the men to lock up the traders and he would deal with them later.

---

She jumped as the door opened but quickly stood as she saw Cregan come in holding a bundle of clothing with Rickon's face peaking out. She embraced them both as she finally let out tears she had been holding back for the past few hours.

“I think they gave him something to keep him asleep but he is breathing, warm, and opened his eyes for me. I think he'll be okay,” he pulled her close with his free arm before wiping her tears. She scooped Rickon out of his arms, running her finger against his tiny hand and he started to grab it. She nearly burst out crying again, like it finally felt real. Cregan helped her over to sit, “I asked for the maester to coke and check on him.”

She didn't look up at him, just focusing on looking at Rickon's head and seemed to instinctively rub his face into her chest. She stayed quiet for a moment before asking, “Why would anyone do this?”

“We have the men who were transporting him in custody, hopefully we'll find out from them. But I fear it may be because of Lucerys and Jaehaerys.”

“We had nothing to do with that, why us?”

“You support your sister, and Rhaenyra and her children probably are the most guarded people right now. They may just be getting to the closest available revenge.”

She paused, “You know I'm not saying this because it should have happened, but why did they not kill him then?”

“I know what you mean,” he stood behind her and put his hand on her shoulders, “Maybe to ransom him, maybe a pa-”

“I'm sorry my lord,” the maester entered in, “you summoned me.”

Cregan welcomed him in, explaining what was wrong. The Maester took Rickon from her arms to check him in his crib. She stood beside him as he made sure Rickon wasn't hurt.

“I think you're right Lord Stark, I think they gave him a bit of milk of the poppy. Only a couple drops would put him to sleep, I think I should stay with him to make sure he has no adverse effects. But I think since he's responding to stimulus he'll be okay. He'll probably be hungry when he wakes so you may want the nurse maid nearby to feed him when he does.”

“We'll have to find her either way to let her know he's found,”Cregan stood behind her, “do you want me to do it while you stay?”

“Yes, I don't want him out of my sight.”

“Alright,” he kissed her on the cheek before leaving.

---

She wasn't lying, he hardly left her arms much less her sight. The only time he left her arms for long was when he needed to be fed. Cregan had Rickon's crib moved in their bedroom and she hardly left its side. Even though he would sleep in her arms, she worried her arms would tire while he was asleep so didn't want to go too far from his bed. She ate her food with him on cooing on her shoulder. She refused to sleep in fear someone would try to get him again. If she got tired, she'd walk around until her eyes stopped drooping. Cregan tried to convince her to sleep that night but she wouldn't. She would set him down finally but every move he made or sound that happened nearby, she wanted to pick him back up again. Cregan woke up hoping she had just fallen asleep soon after him, but she was by the fireplace with a wide eyed Rickon staring up at the ceiling. Walking over to them, he offered to take him, “You need to rest, I just did.”

“I know but I can't sleep, I'm too scared I'll wake up again and he'll be gone again. Besides, you have work to do.”

“I can do my work from here, my men would understand.”

“What about the men that took him, we still don't know for sure why they did it.”

“I can have someone else do it, it's not going to be found out faster just cause I did it.”

“I just…” she couldn't think of any more excuses.

“Don't want to let him out of your sight?” He sat next to her.

“I can't lose him like how Rhaenyra lost her son, he's all I have.”

He paused before continuing with, “What can I do to make you feel safe again? Can I have a guard put outside while I work here?”

“That would be nice, could we also put his crib near the bed?”

“Of course, but only if you at least try and sleep.”

“Only once you have a guard outside,” this was the first time Cregan saw her smile since Rickon had come back.

“Alright,” this time kissed both her and Rickon's forehead before leaving. Once everything was set to finally make her feel safe, did she finally let her eyes droop into sleep. She laid on her side facing the crib, her hand draped in so she could feel him against it. She didn’t remember her eyes fully closing but when she woke up, the sun was setting and Rickon had new clothes on and a new blanket covering him. She pushed herself up to look over to Cregan who was during paper work but turned towards her when he heard the bed creak.

“Did he cry when I was asleep?”

“A little, but he's been an angel,” he got up and sat next to her on the bed.

"He always has been, did his nurse change him?” She carefully picked Rickon up, while he gave her a gummy smile.

“No, she's only been in to feed him. I thought he should be out of the clothes he was kidnapped in so I got a new swaddling.”

“You didn't leave us alone, did you?”

“I had an extra man stay at the door until I was back.”

She paused as she set Rickon's head on her shoulder, “I feel like I'm going crazy every time I have another request.”

“I don't,” he put a hand on her knee,” cause I feel like I'm going crazy trying to figure out how they got to him. I want to block off anyone I don't know and trust with my soul from even looking at him.”

“Did you find out who tried?”

“Yes, I heard back from my men, it was the Greens. Apparently the men they sent break under very little pressure.”

“Did they…”

“No, they didn't want to kill him. They were told to bring him back alive and healthy.”

“Well, at least we know the Greens care more for a babe than they do a young man.”

Cregan stood up, standing beside so he could brush Rickon's soft hair, “According to the men, they wanted the kingdoms to know that Aegon is kinder to a babe than your mother was.”

“You know Rhaenyra didn't mean for-”

“I know, I'm just repeating what my men told them,” he put a comforting hand on her free shoulder.She kept quiet, listening to the soft breaths Rickon let out. After about a minute, Cregan broke the silence.

“Maybe you should hide away in Dragonstone, or with your nephews at the Eyrie.”

“Why?”

“I can't protect you here if anything worse happens, not like your mother can.”

“You can if you prepare. My sister wasn't protected when Ser Arryk tried to kill her.”

“And she sent her children to somewhere safe, I will protect Winterfell but you need to be protected first cause you're Rhaenyra’s sister.”

“What about Rickon, he's the heir to Winterfell.”

“Even more reason for him to go to Eyrie, protecting both of you. I'll send my men to guard you both on the way and there.”

“And you?”

“I have to stay, but I promise you I'll be loyal and once this is over, you'll have a safe home to return to.”

“I have no doubts about that,” she teared up as Cregan embraced her with Rickon happily cooing in-between his parents.

---

Epilogue!

Thanks for reading, I had fun writing this and want to write more about this scenerio (I wrote way more already, like 2 chapters more than originally planned). If you have any ideas or suggestions, please tell me cause I'm 🤏 this close

[a-motherfcking-fish]

Aegon finally taking high valyrian classes on duolingo.