a court of mist and fury fanfiction azriel shadowsinger x oc 18+ - "The angels up in the clouds are jealous knowing we found Something so out of the ordinary. You got me kissing the ground of your sanctuary Shatter me with your touch, oh Lord return to me dust." What happens when a reader falls into ACOTAR's universe.

The heart of a Targaryen was said to be one dipped in fire and blood. They ruled the skies with their dragons, danced through the flames of death and controlled the direction of the wind. All from an Iron throne. Rhaella Targaryen was the youngest daughter of King Viserys and Queen consort Alicent Hightower. She was cunning and calculating, knowing how to slither her way out of the situations she often found herself in. Visions and prophecies were both a curse and a blessing for the princess, and when the dragons began to dance she used them as motive for every action and sin she committed. First completed writing March 2023

Don't save her, she don't wanna be saved. (Smallville: Seasons 1-5) (Gotham: Seasons 1-2) Achievements #493 writing #3 liana liberato #6 lois lane #1 lana lang #1 chloe sullivan #1 kristin kreuk #10 smallville

Prince Valarr Targaryen, son of Baelor Targaryen, was carefully sculpted to be the perfect prince. But the death of his beloved wife, Elayne Redwyne, left a hollow space in his chest that duty could not fill. In the cold wake of his loss, he found warmth in the one place he should have feared to look: the tempting arms of Lady Lysara Loraqen. Lysara is renowned for being clever, with a beauty that surpasses the muck of Westeros, and-most dangerously-the shackled wife of the volatile, Prince Aerion Targaryen. What began as a whispered confidence in a dark corridor has spiraled into a feverish obsession. For Valarr, Lysara is no longer just comfort; she is a necessity. But for Aerion, possession is the only law. Known for a temper that burns hotter than wildfire, Aerion views his wife as his absolute domain. The one thing no one can claim ownership over, but himself. In a court where every wall has ears, and every shadow has eyes, Valarr and Lysara play a lethal game of heated liaison. They dance recklessly on the edge of a blade, knowing that if Aerion were to suspect of their betrayal, the Dragonpit will run red with more than just old blood.