Evolyinn



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    In one world, Lucerys Velaryon grows up, falls in love with his former enemy, and has several very chaotic children.

    In this world, he is thirteen and has done none of that.

    This becomes a problem when two of those children show up anyway.

    Language:
    English
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    5/?
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    04 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Lucerys dies in a dragon chase during a storm. He wakes back in his bed safe in Dragonstone on the eve of Vaemond Velaryon calling his legitimacy into question. All goes as it did before. Well, except for one major difference.

    AKA Luke dies and gets transported to an A/B/O verse

    Language:
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    123,842
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    14/39
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    31 Mar 2026

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    Cursed in childhood by a blood witch to live as a dragon and granted human form only once each month, Duncan has long hidden in the deepest shadows of the Unnamed Island. For years, the wilderness kept his secret… until a royal hunting competition drives riders and hounds into his territory.

    There, he is discovered by Prince Aerion. And Aerion, who has always hungered for legends thought lost to time, decides he cannot—will not—let the last dragon slip through his grasp.

    ONGOING / I’m on vacation rn.

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    7/?
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    14 Mar 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Dunk didn’t mean to become a dragon. Really, he didn’t. He had meant to join the Ashford Tourney, to win himself a small sliver of honor and glory, and to show the world what Ser Arlan’s gnarled hand had wrought.

    Instead, he ran afoul a witch, got himself two damn flapping tents for hands and a tail that did not know how to stop moving.

    Not to mention the damn prince on his heels. He did not want to be ridden, damn it!

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    9/?
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    14 Mar 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    "The crown suits you, you know," said Ser Duncan over the cacophony, bringing Baelor back to himself. "Makes you look... you know. Kingly. Which I suppose makes sense, seeing as how you're the king now." A look of anguish crossed his face. "Oh, hells, I shouldn't be calling you 'you,' should I? It's 'Your Grace.' Please don't take—"

    Baelor resisted the urge to rest his hand against the lad's back, as one might soothe a skittish horse. "No offense was taken, ser."

    "Thank you," Ser Duncan said, then immediately amended, "thank Your Grace...ness. Seven fucks, I'm getting another drink." And he whirled away into the throng before Baelor could say a word.


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    06 Mar 2026