#vaekar

[cyborrrg]

Ghosts of spring 🪻

"He had the eyes the color of spring." "He died in spring..."

Purple crocuses from the yard for maekar’s eyes and signify the coming of valarr’s doom…..

[itsacoffeemug]

Moot on Twitter said something about Maekar marrying Daeron to Rhaegal and now I'm thinking about an au where he does that and then Baelor is like "I don't want my baby to marry some asshole alpha can you marry him?" so Maekar marries Valarr and Aerion is in the corner seething because why isn't he also being given to his hot uncle????

Stomping his foot all angry and jealous "Marry me to uncle Baelor father! I will bear him many children and be the best omega he could ever ask for!!!" and Daeron and Valarr are just sitting there watching him crashout all amused and shit

[anankelee]

eldest ‘daughter’ Valarr brainworms hmmmm,,,,

hammeranvil marrying young (Maekar fifteenish/sixteenish and Baelor in his early twenties) and having twins right out the gate: Daeron, the elder of the two, fussy and needing constant attention straight from the womb, and Valarr, who is both much smaller and much quieter than his twin. That seems to set the tone of Valarr’s life right from the start. He’s the ‘easy’ one, the one that doesn’t cry or whine, who can entertain himself while his many siblings clamor for attention. He’s Muña’s sweet helper, always eager to follow in Maekar’s footsteps and help with the littler ones. He’s Kepa’s smart boy, who attends all his lessons and answers every question correctly. He’s the one child they don’t have to worry about, and they love him for it. And Valarr knows it, and takes great pains that it stays that way. He wipes his own tears, solves his own problems, and gives them no reason to begin to worry when they never have had to before. He can’t help but notice that they seem relieved to not have to pay him much mind—that they seem to appreciate the steadily growing distance between them, giving him less and less attention as time goes on and he pulls away further.

(On the other, unseen, side: hammeranvil both having thoughts about their second-eldest as he grows older, which get worse when he presents as an omega at fourteen. He’s their sweet boy, their angel, with Baelor’s mismatched eyes (though his right is blue instead of his sire’s violet, but that only makes him more precious a sight) and wavy dark hair that holds that beautiful streak of silver, like a ray of moonlight on a stormy sea. They don’t know how to interact with him, their quiet, self-sufficient boy that they adore in a way far too heavy for mere parental love. It’s a relief and a sweet agony both, when he starts to distance himself from them. They love him—terribly, hungrily—but they don’t know how to love him in only the way they should, the same way they love their other children.)

On his fifteenth birthday, his grandfather announces that with his blooming into an omega, he will have a match made before year’s end. His grandmother already has a list prepared—and at the top is a name that Valarr has heard whispered more and more over the years: Manfred Dondarrion. ‘To settle the Marcher lords,’ his grandparents say with strained smiles, carefully not mentioning why said lords need settling now more than ever. But Valarr knows anyway, having heard a thousand times through Court gossip about how his Kepa had spurned Jena Dondarrion for his Muña. It’s been a decade and a half since, but the Dondarrions had never forgotten—and if they could not have an alpha prince, then an omega one would do.

He does not mind it the way he thought he would, this bargaining of his future. It satisfies him, in an empty sort of way—that even in this he will be the reasonable one. He knows it must be him, for who else would it be? Aerion, who would sooner rip out the Dondarrion knight’s throat than lay under him, and who is too young besides? Daella, who has not even bled, who weeps at dresses she has outgrown and her needlepoint mistakes and no lemon cakes after supper? No, it will be him, and he shall go to the altar with the same quiet that has carried him through the rest of his life thus far. He agrees, and will marry before the year’s end. He does not even think to tell his parents—for will they care, truly? He is already apart from them, chasms between them for all they live mere rooms away from each other, and surely they knew it to be coming either way. He is the same age his Muña was when he married, and he will marry for alliance that will bring the Crown peace—they will likely smile and nod and move on with their lives, content with his smart match and his quickly approaching absence.

(Meanwhile, when their father tells them of the match that has been arranged without their say-so, hammeranvil jointly blows a gasket. Maekar is far more overt with it, ranting at the top of his lungs and insisting every other breath that his baby will NOT be married off without his permission, not now and not ever—but Baelor is the one that their father is watching. The Hand of the King is ramrod straight in his chair, fingers so tight around the armrests that the wood is groaning. His eyes are shut and his jaw is set, and there is little of the calm he is so known for in the tenseness of his shoulders, in the slight bearing of his teeth behind pursed lips. Baelor says nothing. Baelor does nothing. But the darkness in those mismatched eyes when they open to face Daeron head on says more than a thousand screaming matches ever will. He stands, takes a suddenly quiet Maekar by the hand, and turns to leave—but not without a quiet word, the last word he will speak on the subject to them for years to come. ‘This will not turn out the way you intend,’ he says, voice near genial, if not for the utter lack of warmth in his eyes, ‘and when it does not, I expect that you will allow me to handle the aftermath as I see fit.’)

edit: for convenience, part 2 is here!

[obosssania]

Baelor, come home, your wives miss you

[surya2]

curious little kitties

[airopo]

Omega Maekar who accidentally killed his first love/brother and since then has been doing everything to make it up to his nephew who looks like his father in certain lights even tho he gets shut down everytime and alpha Valarr who just couldn't take it one day and gave into his anger

[itsacoffeemug]

King Daeron having a tournament to celebrate Valarr's birth because that's his first grandkid

Baelor doesn't participate because he wants to be by Jena's side when she gives birth but Maekar does and he wins and when Baelor is running through the castle gleefully showing his mini twin baby boy to everyone he finds Maekar still in armor and Maekar puts the flower crown in his hand in Valarr's head

Just. Maekar naming baby Valarr his queen of love and beauty because hie hands are too bloody to touch his little nephew so the flower crown is the next best thing<3

[itsacoffeemug]

i would like to propose a situation in which Baelor survives the trial but is massively injured and can’t have sex for a period of time. so instead, he gets Maekar and Valarr to have sex while he watches and directs them, because well, it’s the closest he can get without actually being able to participate (bonus points if Valarr calls both men Kepa, extra bonus points if when Baelor recovers they have a threesome)

"Be good for kepa, Valarr," his voice is soft, lowered to merely a whisper, sleepiness seeping within his words as the medicine takes its hold on him.

Still, the way he says the word kepa makes Valarr shiver, naked limbs trembling beneath his uncle, arching up and moaning in pleasure.

Maekar's strong hands keep his legs parted, his fingers digging into the meat of his thighs, his hips slapping against Valarr's backside as his cock thrusts in and out of him.

Next to them, his father lays with his back resting against the pillows, his eyes half lidded, the skin beneath them dark and bruised. He looks ill, he is ill, yet he insists on remaining awake instead of resting, commanding Valarr and Maekar to move this way and that way as he himself cannot.

His good hand, the one still capable of movement, reaches out occasionally, gently brushing over Valarr's arm, over his shoulder, down his chest and stomach.

He reaches out once more, placing his hand low on Valarr's stomach, palm pressing down.

"He feels so good inside, doesn't he, my sweet boy?" He presses down further, and the movement has Valarr sobbing, overwhelmingly aware of how deep inside him Maekar is. "Kepa fills you up so well, hmm?"

Kepa, Maekar, pushes inside him with even more force as Baelor coos at Valarr's tears of pleasure.

"Go on boy, come for us," Uncle demands, his voice tainted with the smallest amount of something gentle, and Valarr comes undone in his hold.

"Kepa, kepa, kepa," he babbles, his eyes closing as he cries and shakes.