Keevan



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Vaegon Targaryen had long known the quiet solitude of the Citadel, where he could find solace in his studies, far from the poisoned whispers of the court.

    But when the message from his father arrives, summoning him home to wed his younger sister, everything he has known, and everything he believed himself to be, begins to crumble.

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    08 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Archmaester Vaegon chose death as his family and dynasty were fading to fire and blood. Nearly seven decades to his life, regrets and revelations made heartaches came to a hilt as the Dance of the Dragons raged. The dying of the dragons began long before— the deaths of his siblings all piling losses that had led them to the dawn of war.

    He had went his own route in life, detached and separated from the den of a home he couldn't fit in to. He left his family name behind, but no distance nor denial could prepare him for the grief of watching the withering of his notorious, inescapable siblings as well as their legacy.

    And inescapable, they were— arcanely so. When the death he chose does not consume him to darkness, and the path of light returns him to the days before he took his maester's vows, he is faced with his family again, and a chance at preventing their doom.

    Regressor!Vaegon Fix-It fic.

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    06 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    They say that, in the moments before death, you can see your life flash before your eyes. As he plummeted toward his end, Daemon Targaryen didn't see a fucking thing. But many thoughts raced through his mind.

    He had always told himself he had no regrets. But that wasn’t true.

    He regretted surrendering his crown to his ungrateful niece. He regretted marrying her. He regretted letting her place Harwin Strong’s children above his own—if Aegon and Viserys were even his at all.

    His eyes searched the sky for the great green beast, but it had already vanished beneath the waters of the God's Eye, taking its rider with it. Bitterness and fury gripped the Rogue Prince. Everything he had done—everything he had sacrificed—had been for the honor and glory of House Targaryen. And for what? So a drunkard or a spoiled child could sit the Iron Throne? His House had been reduced to a shadow of what it once was, and history would remember him as nothing more than a consort—the lapdog of a whore queen.

    He closed his eyes, awaiting death’s cold embrace, and in that final instant, he wished—if only for a moment—that he could do it all over again.

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    01 Jan 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 20

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    It was a monstrous jape, she thought bitterly. Proof that the gods did not exist, or worse – that they delighted in her torment. She had slipped free of death's cold grasp, had escaped that dreadful match with Lord Manderly, only to be shackled to Vaegon instead.

    Her cold, strange brother, who looked through her like she was some riddle he had no interest in solving.

    Handsome enough, she supposed. Tall. Intelligent, she could admit.

    But what did it matter when every word from his mouth made her seethe?

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    30 Dec 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    27 Dec 2025