In the shadow of her perfect twin, she learns that power, love, and loyalty can be deadly games. As the Tyrells play for influence in King's Landing, one sister charms the court... while the other sets her sights on the lion who defies them all. Secrets will unravel, hearts will burn, and no one will leave the Red Keep unchanged.

The embers of the world seemed always to reach for the heavens, yearning to burn side by side with the stars that guarded the skies. Fire believed it could claim them. It would ultimately realise that stars are nothing like it. Stars are constant, yet distant. Burning for centuries without the need of onlookers. Stars don't fall. They endure. Even as fire dies beneath them. And while fire is drawn upward toward the stars; the stars are bound by a gravity of their own, ever turning toward the moon. //Daemon Targaryen x OC //OC x OC

your father's blood will be your blood until you're both rotting in the ground. when you stare in the mirror, his face will be glaring back at you with utter disdain and disappointment only a father can truly have. Story on hold till season3 comes out!

CURRENTLY BEING FIXED AND REWRITTEN when duty and desire mix, daela and aegon are torn apart by their family. will aegon choose the crown over desire or will he falter and give up both for his own ambitions and freedom. will daela stay loyal to her hightower blood or will she be something her targaryen family fear after a wild dragon claims her and not the other way around. #16 jacaerys🏅 #19 housetargaryen🏅 #33 rhaenyra 🏅 #21 teamgreen 🏅 #19 teamblack 🏅 #15 danceofdragons 🏅 #24 aegon🏅 ALL CHARACTERS/STORYLINE BELONG TO THEIR ORIGINAL OWNER G.R.R.M - ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO HBO ©

"They used to say Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, but they only said that because of our dragons. When the last dragon died, our House's glory died with it. Or so our ancestors, in their weakness, chose to believe. But the last dragon never died. It crawled inside our bloodline and slept. Now it's waking up. It's the itch beneath our skin, the voice in our skulls, our dreams at night, and the hard, scalding truth I feel when I'm inside of you. My dear sister. My mirror. My fucking altar of Fire and Blood. We shall be the rebirth of the House of the Dragon. You and I, Aerea- conflagrated into one being, meant for glory, since the moment of our birth."

_ Aemyna Targaryen has always been the quiet one. The one of few words, the soft spoken shadow trailing behind her twin brother aemond Targaryen. Living by the rules of the red keep she stayed small,silent and harmless But nothing stays harmless in a family built on fire. Aegon Targaryen,her oldest brother.Chaos itself. Notices the girl, nobody else watches, he is torn between self loathing and arrogance, between violence and vulnerability, between sarcasm and witty words He should protect her. He should cherish her He should be the one person she never fears Instead,he becomes the first. His cruelty hooks into her softness, her trembling quiet bruises his ego, he hates how she flinches slightly but most of all he hates how much he cares she does. And somewhere between fear and fury, something tangles the web, a bond neither can name,want or outrun. It starts as their duty and becomes their choice.

(ON HOLD) "You had everything- the crown, the love. the name. and I had your shadow." "You're my sister-" "I was your shadow first. Your sister second. And I'm tired of pretending I don't hate how easily everyone choses you." Reign Season 1 - ? Female Oc x Male Oc

"You really shouldn't be wandering around like this. There are rules you can't just do whatever you want" Carmen's eyes narrowed "I'm a fucking Shelby. And I can do whatever the bloody hell I want." Peaky Blinders Season 1 - ? Male Oc x Female Oc

In a kingdom where the dragon's breath caresses the horizon, its wings beating the skies, the fiery breaths fall silent. Beauty mingles with secrecy, and tenderness is cloaked in mystery. Hearts open like flowers in the morning, promising light and hope. The softness of silk caresses the skin, fragile and tempting, while beneath its surface secrets and scars are hidden. For behind the veil of silk, shadows lengthen, vows crack, and silence hides blades. In this game of appearances, the truth is often the most dangerous of thorns, the deadliest of silks, and the ugliest of scars. Every gesture, every promise, bears the traces of old, sweet memories that have become deep, silent wounds. In a world where appearances veil the truth, where beauty conceals pain, even invisible scars tell stories, legends that we dare not even whisper. Between deceptive gentleness and buried desires, the boundary is fragile. For learning to recognise the manipulation behind gentleness, learning to recognise the pain behind a beautiful facade, learning to recognise a lie in a truth quickly becomes a matter of survival, and that requires more than just a mask.