Lingvolingo



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  1. Public Bookmark 11

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    "The elm leaves in the Godswood are beginning to brown. Even the dragon’s breath and it’s crimson petals have started to wilt. Dunk had visited the heart tree once the summer heat had simmered. He had felt the Gods eye bearing down on him. Then he felt fear. Fear that he would wilt just as the trees have. He knows he cannot hide from what he is, who he has become.

    But seven hells, can he try"

    or

    Ser duncan's patience is tested, not just by his pseudo parentage of a small bald child that sticks to his side like glue. But by his king. Who happens to sound so sweet speaking in his mother tongue.

    Language:
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    05 Sep 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 74

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    They loved each other once. Now they are brought face to face with the boys they used to be and with everything they thought they had lost. Perhaps twenty years was never long enough to stop loving someone.

    Or Maekar and Baelor woke to the younger version of each other.

    Language:
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    20,539
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    30 Aug 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “He didn’t mean it!” Aegon gestured at Daeron, who had yet to move or make a sound aside from the occasional drunken gurgle. “He’s just out of it is all. I promise, Ser.”

    “He thanked me for standing there to catch it, boy. He meant it.” The giant looked up from his washing to Aegon, and his eyes widened dramatically at Maekar. Aegon turned to follow his gaze, and his big eyes became even wider than the giant’s.

    “Aegon,” said Maekar, voice deathly quiet. “Where is your hair?”

     

    ***One shot added 7/14

    Language:
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    16 Aug 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 27

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    Maekar taught Baelor how to properly fuck an omega with a fleshlight, while letting the young alpha stare at his cunt. Baelor wanted the real thing, not this stupid toy, but Maekar only allowed him to look—or so he thought.

    Language:
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    5,590
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    27
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    16 Aug 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Perhaps the seeds of madness are sown in the womb.”

    Not for Aerion, no. Nor for Egg. But Daeron had always known. Since he was small, he saw the tapestries upon the walls burn above his cradle, and he knew. Drink or delirium, it did not matter. One way or another, his visions would be the death of him.

    He had not reckoned he would have to suffer more than one.

    The gods want something from Daeron. They must, to have devised so exceptional a hell. For why else would they have him live these days over and over?

    If they have chosen Daeron to change the future, they have chosen the wrong man. Daeron is not a hero. He never has been.

     

     

    Now complete.

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    14 Aug 2026