❝ 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝. ❞ ⋆༺𓆩𓇼𓆪༻⋆ ╰─➤ 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄 los Dioses de la Antigua Valyria detienen el descenso de Aerion Targaryen de la muerte. El "Llamabrillante", aquel que murió en locura tras beber fuego valyrio, recibe una última oportunidad. 𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐎 es cruel: para conservar su vida, debe convertirse en el escudo de su casa y en la espada Rhaenyra. Aerion deberá salvar a su casa de la destrucción. 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ──────────── ⤷ 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐫 @𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐭 ⤷ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐨 𝐮́𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐨 © 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔

── 𝑬𝑴𝑩𝑶𝑳𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑬 ── 𝑺𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬. ⌗ ꒰ 𝑨𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒐𝒄 ꒱ - ( 𝓩𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷 )

Aerion Targaryen, el príncipe llamabrillante, ha vivido en las sombras Desembarco del Rey siendo el Primogénito Pero tratado como un monstruo forjándose una leyenda en Westeros. No es el niño débil que algunos recuerdan, sino un guerrero frío y ambicioso, con el fuego de la conquista en sus ojos de dragón. Su regreso pone patas arriba la corte, aún más cuando fija su mirada en los un pilar que sostienen el frágil equilibrio del reino: su Hermana Gemela, la heredera Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aerion no ve bandos verdes o negros. Ve lo que por derecho de sangre y fuego le pertenece. Y ha decidido que no elegirá. La quiere a Rhaenyra ambos se odiaban Pero en deseo en el Poder Ambos se desean Dragones Gobernaran con Fuego y Sangre o Su amor será Consumido en llamas.

Born a year after the Realm's Delight, Prince Aerion Targaryen was never meant to inherit the Iron Throne. But the realm has always preferred sons. Cruel where his sister is calculating, merciless where she seeks legitimacy, Aerion grows beside Rhaenyra as her shadow and her sword a dragon hatched of the same fire, but forged in something darker. While lords whisper that he would make the stronger ruler, Aerion's loyalty belongs to one person alone. When the Dance of the Dragons begins, the realm will learn a terrible truth: Rhaenyra may want the crown. But her brother wants the world to burn for her.

They call my uncle the Anvil. They call my betrothed the Brightflame. They call my brother the Young Prince. They do not know what to call me. I am Visenya of House Targaryen-seventeen years of age, only daughter of Prince Baelor Breakspear and Princess Jena, sister to Valarr, granddaughter to King Daeron the Good. Where my father and brother wear their brown Dornish blood plainly in their dark hair-Valarr marked with that curious white streak behind his right ear-I bear the old Valyrian look without apology. Silver-white hair. Storm-grey eyes. The blood of the dragon written clear as flame. My father, Baelor Targaryen, is heir to the Iron Throne. My uncle, Maekar Targaryen, broods at Summerhall with his sons-Daeron the Dreamer, Aerion Brightflame, Aemon the upcoming maester, and little Aegon. My brother Valarr stands one heartbeat away from being Prince of Dragonstone. And I- I am promised to Aerion Targaryen. Promised since I was ten. The realm sees it as a strength-binding the lines of Baelor and Maekar closer still. Fire braided into fire. But the court whispers. They always whisper. They whisper of Aerion's cruelty. They whisper of Daeron's dreams. They whisper of Maekar's temper. They whisper of my father's mercy being mistaken for weakness. And soon, they will whisper of Ashford. The great tourney at Ashford Meadow will draw every knight with a scrap of pride and every lord with a hunger for spectacle. Hedge knights seeking glory. Princes seeking dominance. The smallfolk seeking distraction. My father says it is a celebration of peace beneath King Daeron's wise rule. My uncle says tourneys breed folly. My betrothed says he will make them kneel. I have seen how Aerion smiles when he speaks of kneeling. I do not yet know that I will meet Ser Duncan the Tall. I do not yet know that little Aegon-Egg-will follow him. I do not yet know that a single act of cruelty beneath a bright tourney sun will fracture our family before the eyes of the realm.

Rhae stands where the world feared to tread. Aerion kneels only to her, loving her with teeth and fire, willing to slaughter anyone who dares stand between them.

❝ 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝. ❞ ⋆༺𓆩𓇼𓆪༻⋆ ╰─➤ 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 the Gods of Old Valyria halt the descent of Aerion Targaryen from death. The "Brightflame," he who died in madness after drinking wildfire, is granted one final chance. 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 is cruel: to preserve his life, he must become the shield of his house and Rhaenyra's sword. Aerion must save his lineage from destruction. 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ──────────── ⤷ 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐭 ⤷ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝-𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 © 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔

A Gate Appeared in Macragge and the sandera have foolishly attack the Ultramarine legion's homeworld and soon they will learn they mess with the wrong People

It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries The Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the Master of Mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die. Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods. In unknown world, where the legionnaire astartes battle off against the enemies of mankind, as an astartes fought to the end as the mankind were besieged by the enemies of mankind. Until he was transported to the battlefield to the unknown world, will he survive or will he die like his brothers.

After defeating the Dark Lord, Doom Slayer thought his task was done, only to be sent by the Father to another besieged universe to provide aid in what he is good at. Rip and Tear