game

Reincarnated into the treacherous world of Westeros as Roman Rivers, a bastard adopted by House Whent, he finds himself inheriting the cursed, melted ruins of Harrenhal. But Roman isn't just an ordinary pawn in the Game of Thrones. Gifted with the miraculous "Pale Flame" a draconic magic that grants him monstrous strength and purifying fire, he has the power to cleanse the haunted lands. Knowing the devastating War of the Five Kings is fast approaching, Roman refuses to bleed for the Iron Throne. Instead, he combines his magical abilities with modern Earth knowledge to spark an industrial revolution in the Riverlands. From inventing blast furnaces and cement to forging an elite, disciplined standing army, Roman sets out to transform the continent's most tragic fortress into an impregnable, utopian empire. Let the Lannisters and Starks play their games; the Lord of Harrenhal is building a dynasty of steel.

~~Hello readers. This is an original fan fiction work. If you have any idea about my story, feel free to let me know. No SMUT scenes. First World - A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones Second World- Marvel? Stay tuned for more~~ Manny awakens in a mysterious House Outside Time, suspended in the void, with multiple doors. Each door leads to another universe. He must live, learn, and lead in each world until a new door appears. Time halts everywhere else when he returns home, allowing him to rest, plan, and grow stronger. Whenever Manny forms a true bond of love and unity with a lead figure of destiny in that Universe, the HOT rewards him with new powers. Each marriage makes him stronger than before. So he decided to have all the beauties, gain multiple powers and become King of All Worlds.

Note: Porn With A Plot “We have to stay together, we are the last Dragons” Aegon said. Daenerys eyes widened and she gasped getting up quickly. “My dragon eggs” She told them. “We left them behind” Daemon climbed off the bed and walked till a chest in the corner “You mean this eggs?” He smirked and pointed to the four…Dragon eggs. Dany breathed and took Daemon by surprise as she launched herself on him wrapping him in a tight hug. “Thank you” “Well it wasn’t me that retrieved them but you are welcome” He whispered hugging her back. A moment later her eyes widened and she let go off him “Sorry” She said blushing. “It’s fine” "Where did you get the fourth egg” She asked changing the subject soon as possible. He shrugged “Ser Arthur told us that Rhaegar found in Dragonstone and it was mine” Dany nodded “Wait, Ser Arthur? The sword of the morning!?” She shrieked. “We have a lot to tell you Daenerys” They laughed. “Sit, let me pour us some wine and let us tell you everything you need to know” If you’re enjoying the story and would like early access to future chapters, please consider supporting me on Patreon: patreon.com/HalyxStark.

Robert huffed; he would not give his friend all of the tools. Let him figure some of it out himself. "Wherever you think best." Before his friend could press the matter, he changed the topic. "Now, I did not just come to ask you to be my hand. I also came to suggest something else." "Your Grace?" Ned replied. "I wish to strengthen the bond between our families. We shall be united in blood as we would have been had Lya and I married." Robert said. "Your daughter and my son are of an age; they shall be betrothed, and the girl shall accompany us south." "I…" Ned stammered. Robert continued. "And your eldest son and my daughter Myrcella are of an age. They shall be married before we leave for King's Landing." Robert saw his friend's mouth open in shock once more. He grinned. "Well? Are you going to answer or are you going to keep gaping at me like a fish?" Ned stared at him then took a deep breath. "I…I am…I am honoured by this favour, Your Grace." Robert felt his grin widen and he pulled Ned into a crushing embrace. "Our families were meant to be united, Ned. This time they will be." Want to read advanced chapters? If you’re enjoying the story and would like early access to future chapters, please consider supporting me on Patreon: patreon.com/HalyxStark.

"My memory... hehe. King Robert Baratheon... murdered by a pig. Give me something for the pain, and let me die." What eloquent last words for a king. But Robert had never been an eloquent man. Not as a rowdy young man. Not as the leader of the Rebellion that put an end to the Targaryen Dynasty. Not as the first non-Targaryen ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. He wasn't about to turn into a damn poet on his deathbed. I'd trade everything to go back… Thank you for reading! If you are enjoying the story, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons get access to advance chapters and help make it possible for me to keep writing. You can find me at: patreon.com/DarkLoreWriter

Jaehaerys raised his chin, undaunted. This man couldn't harm him, he reminded himself, that's why he brought Prince Viserys to the capital in the first place. "I am the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. A dragon. You are nothing more than a fool who befriended one," Jaehaerys replied, having prepared that line in advance. It had the desired effect. The Small Council members turned to look at Connington. The man trembled with rage, balling his fists. Strangely, he reminded Jae of Viserys. "And if I don't?" he asked. "If you don't, Lord Baratheon will take this tale back home. Ser Jaime will wonder out loud every chance he gets why our Lord Regent was so unwilling to protect the Crown Prince though he'd been aware of his mistreatment the entire time. Soon enough, the entire realm will know." Jaehaerys tilted his head. "And I wonder how my family in the North will feel about that." "Not to mention the common people, when they hear an up-jumped minor Lord, my bannerman no less, dared to harm a Prince of the Blood. They remember the only reason you're in power is because you took advantage of the chaos at the end of the Rebellion," Lord Stannis seconded Jaehaerys, the large man and the little boy glaring at the Lord Regent in unison. His face grew so red, it matched his hair. Jaehaerys feared his head might explode. In the end, Lord vary broke the silence when he said, "Perhaps the Prince's suggestion is sound. Prince Viserys should be sent to Dragonstone. Out of sight and out of mind, as they say." Finally, Connington gave a nod. So slight, one could doubt he agreed at all. "But Daenerys stays," Jaehaerys pushed on. "I won't have her at Dragonstone where Viserys can torment her." "Fine!" Connington said, "Now, begone." "You don't order the Crown Prince around, fool!" Stannis protested. "That's quite alright, Lord Baratheon," he said, looking up at him with a small smile. "I was leaving anyway." Thank you for reading! If you are enjoying the story, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons get access to advance chapters and help make it possible for me to keep writing. You can find me at: patreon.com/DarkLoreWriter

What if the three White Knights, guarding the Tower of Joy knew of Ned Stark's search for his sister. What if they were able to meet him in secret and concoct a plan to keep the new-born King safe until he could reclaim his rightful throne. Jon (Aegon Targaryen) grows up, helped by a small group that secretly prepares Westeros for the restoration of the Targaryen dynasty. As he comes of age, Jon gradually takes charge of his own destiny. This is a Jon-centric story where he claims his birthright and has dragons. Daenerys' life is vastly different compared to canon. She will meet Jon without having conquered Essos and has a long way to go before becoming a dragonrider in her own right. Endgame, however, will be a happy Jonerys riding dragons together and ruling as equals. You can read advance chapters of "Legacy of Fire and Ice" on my Patreon. Join me at patreon.com/MythosMixer for exclusive content and updates!

"That story of the Ice Dragon," Daeron said, "Those were the first words my brother had said to me in months, and it wasn't because of any row or absence from the Red Keep. It was simply because he hadn't cared to." His stance was rigid below the indifferent stars that shone above them. "I wanted a brother, but he didn't want me, and now I'm going to take everything he has." The night air tingled against the back of his neck. He did not waste words or his breath on a past that cannot be changed. "Everything, Your Grace?" "Yes," The word was as cold and sharp as a blade. "Do you believe it is considered kinslaying to wage war against your brother?" He asked mildly, "To raise your sword against him even if it's to parry a deathblow from your own kin." He never waited for Barristan to answer his question. "Whether we die by each other's hands or not, it does not matter. We have condemned one another. Not just our own lives, but those of our line." That was when Daeron turned abruptly, shifting his attention solely on Barristan. "A kinslayer is one who is cursed forever, but my family's history is written in the blood of our own kin." His eyes narrowed in thought. "But still we reign over all of Westeros," the rubies in his crown glowed like lit embers above his head. "And you still serve me, follow me." You can support me and read advance chapters on my Patreon. Join me at patreon.com/MythosMixer for exclusive content and updates!

When Lyanna Stark is taken and Rickard and Brandon burn, the North rises. But not only under Ned Stark’s banners. At just fifteen, Artos Stark—forged in battle, driven by wolf-blood—rallies greybeards, Umbers, mountain clans, and even the Skagosi out of isolation. Leading from the front, he wins impossible battles: outnumbered by the Reach, defying the Crown’s hosts, carving legends in steel and blood.Gifted—or cursed—with the warg’s sight, astride his white stallion Snow and an eagle called Rick, Artos becomes more beast than man in war. Enemies scream of the “Demonwolf,” a Stark born of fury, who makes kings and knights alike tremble.But rage is a double-edged blade. As rebellion burns across Westeros, Artos must decide whether he is a commander of men…or a monster of the Old Gods.

It was difficult being the son of the most hated man in Westeros. Aelor Targaryen had seen his fair share of death. He'd watched the executions of the Houses Darklyn and Hollard after the Defiance, a fifteen year old squire to Ser Barristan Selmy who'd been forced to stay behind while his mentor scaled the wall of Duskendale and rescued Aelor's father. He'd killed his first man, some hulking brute who smelled like a pig sty and fought like a boar, two years later during the waning hours of the Kingswood Brotherhood, and sent seven more men to their graves before the conflict was finished, earning his knighthood. And he'd seen men burned alive by his father for years now, more men and more situations than Aelor wished to recall. His father's nickname of the Mad King was well earned. But the deaths of Rickard and Brandon Stark were… haunting. The smell of the Lord of the North's burning flesh still swirled in his nostrils, just as the sound of the man's son strangling himself as he tried to save his father still rang in his ears. Aelor was no stranger to nightmares, but he knew those deaths would haunt him until the day he died. If they ever find Rhaegar, I'll kill him myself. There are worse things in life than being labeled a kinslayer...... Thank you for reading! If you are enjoying the story, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons get access to advance chapters and help make it possible for me to keep writing. You can find me at: patreon.com/ScarletQuillWrites

In a world of kings and dragons, how can a night watchman find the chance to embark on an adventure across distant lands? Bound by duty yet driven by a restless spirit, he steps beyond the walls he once swore to guard, encountering allies, enemies, and mysteries that challenge everything he believes. Is he truly recruiting for the watch, or is his journey fueled by something far more personal—ambition, redemption, or a past he can’t escape?

Reborn as Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell, I awakened in a world that was not my own. The kingdoms are still at peace… for now. But I know what is coming: betrayal, death, and the cruel fate that awaits House Stark. The fall of the Young Wolf is already written in history. But this time will be different. I will not repeat the mistakes that doomed the real Robb Stark. In this game of thrones, the direwolf will not be the prey. He will be the predator. When winter finally comes, all of Westeros will learn to fear the Wolf of Winterfell.

[MATURE CONTENT] “And why would you do that?" Sheba's voice trembled, anxiety shadowing her features as she observed Elisha's perilous state. "I did it all because I love you, yes, Sheba, I love you more than life itself," Elisha declared, sealing her words with a desperate kiss. But just as their lips met, a thunderous roar shattered the air. "Nooooo!" a voice bellowed, and an explosive force hurled them apart, sending their bodies crashing against opposite walls. "Not in this lifetime, Elisha," the voice seethed, dripping with fury. Elisha's heart raced as she lifted her gaze, dread pooling in her stomach. There stood the devil himself—Lucifer. ————————————- Survival was a deal fulfilled by the fittest. Seeking pleasure or solitude was a choice for the most powerful and the subdued are left for dust, crushed and broken. The five races lived in peace, reserved within their territories. Everything changed when Sheba defiled the order of leadership, seeking hungrily to rule all races; The humans, The witches, The sirens, The demons and The spirits. Her plot was countered however. Her very own sister sealing her away and putting a stop to her unquenchable hunger for power. The witch race was deemed weakest at that point— the enchantress supereme gone, their fate remained unknown. Yet, years of peace were known through out Cullen. Years that came to an end when the hunger for power and dominion seemed irresistible. It is hardly possible that one is satisfied with that which is under his control and a human goddess was no different. Moist struck. Harder than Sheba ever did, becoming the very evil she sealed Sheba for coming out as. And so, the battle among races began. Echoes of the shadowed past threatened to silence the present. The whispers of the fallen, rising high, resounding fear and chaos through out Cullen.

At 32 years old, Harry Potter, Order of Merlin – First Class, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), walked through the Veil while awaiting his death. Because he was tired of this life. But Fate or maybe Death had different plans. Beyond the Veil, he arrived in a world unknown to him. Woke up with a 7-year-old boy’s body in a Kingdom called “North”. With the symbol of Deathly Hallows on the back of his right hand. As the son of a House Lord. A new life, a new beginning, and a second chance to live the life he wants. --------------- If you want to access early chapters, maps, character pictures, and read ahead of time, you can visit my p@treon page and become a member or patron. You can find my page at: www.patreon.com/c/vanguard_v 7 chapters weekly and 7 bonus chapters for every weeks if we reach the quota for Power Stones. So don’t forget to send Power Stones, please. The cover belongs to me. P.S. The story was originally an old, dropped fanfic. I am rewriting, editing, and making some changes and additions. There will be more magic and kingdom-building materials. I will also continue to write after the dropped part and complete the story. If you want to read original dropped version of this story, its name is 'HP transmigrated into Domeric Bolton' by Fortunate_Soul.

This is the story of Ser Lyonel Dondarrion, the Lightning Knight. A just and good man to many, but to others he is a devil of the Seven Hells Story starts at 61 AC

oh Geez! It's another House of the Dragon fanfic with the son of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce as the MC. So, hotdog... And yeah... none of this is original. Credit to GRR Martin and whoever owns House of the Dragon stuff. This is just a fanfic and that's it.

After the death of his wife, Tywin Lannister swore he would never marry again. The realm had other plans. As tensions rise between House Lannister and House Targaryen, the crown demands unity—and the price is a marriage neither side desires. The chosen groom is Tywin himself. His bride: Visenya Targaryen. The King’s sister. A woman feared in court, unmatched in wit, and untouched by every suitor who dared approach her. This is no romance. It is a political alliance forged to prevent rebellion… and both of them know it. But Visenya is no pawn. And Tywin Lannister does not yield. What begins as a forced union soon becomes something far more dangerous—a silent war of control, pride, and power, where every word is a move and every move has consequences. Because in a realm ruled by lions and dragons… neither of them was ever meant to bow.

His family was slaughtered. His dragons were poisoned. His throne, stolen. Prince Drexo Dragarian was meant to rule Astarous. Instead, he became its most wanted fugitive. But the one who should hate him the most, chose him for love. Maria Woodland. The sister of the man who destroyed his house. The deadliest sword in Snowland. She didn’t just betray her bloodline, she became his greatest weapon. Together, they rise without dragons, carving through kingdoms with steel, strategy, and a love that was never meant to exist. But in a world built on alliances and power, love is a liability. A broken engagement threatens their army. A king rises to crush them. And betrayal begins to grow from within. As war spreads across the nine kingdoms, Drexo must fight for more than a throne. Because the woman who made him unstoppable, might also be the reason he loses everything.

In an empire where women rule and men are claimed, a princess learns how intoxicating power can be. Princess Isolde is forced into marriage not once—but many times. Each consort is meant to restrain her, weaken her, shame her. Instead, she turns them into something far more dangerous. A general who resists her touch even as he obeys her command. A priest who calls her temptation and cannot look away. A court darling who chooses her first—and dares anyone to challenge it. A scholar whose restraint hides devastating devotion. A foreign prince who offers his body, his loyalty, and his ruin. Their bonds begin in ink and law. They deepen in whispered strategy, lingering glances, and nights where politics are planned behind locked doors. As rival princesses close in and the throne draws nearer, Isolde discovers that desire is not a weakness—but a weapon. And she intends to wield it.

Long before he set foot in Westeros, Prince Dragonzel of House Varezes was already something the world had never seen—a dragonlord not born of the House Targaryen, but forged in the distant Free Cities, where ancient Valyria’s lost knowledge still lingers in shadows. Hailing from a powerful foreign lineage that mastered both dragons and forbidden arts, Dragonzel arrives in Westeros not as a guest—but as a force that challenges the very foundation of noble bloodlines and tradition. In a land where legitimacy is everything, his existence alone is a threat. With his dragons, wealth, and unmatched intellect, he begins weaving a vast network of alliances—binding great houses, influencing trade, and reshaping the balance of power across the Realm. But Westeros stands on the brink of chaos. The brewing conflict between Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower threatens to ignite the devastating Dance of the Dragons. Dragons will rise, kingdoms will burn, and loyalties will be tested. Amidst this storm, Dragonzel walks a razor’s edge—ally, rival, or something far more dangerous. Because his goal is not merely to survive the coming war… …but to surpass the legacy of Valyria itself. ---