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not me considering switching to windows so i can replay the sims 2 😭

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Heed my words, my queen. The House of the Undying Ones was not made for mortal men. If you value your soul, take care and do just as I tell you.

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Send "What if they kissed?"

and I'll write a scene where our muses kiss, even if they aren't shipped together. it is it's own thing and doesn't have to lead to an official ship. a "what if scenario"

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GAME OF THRONES 3.08, Second Sons

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you’re laughing. i told you i loved you against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance, and you’re laughing.

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I’m going out of town for just under a week and I’m not bringing my personal computer, just my work computer, so I won’t be posting ic for a little bit (which sucks bc I just got back into a small groove!) but will be here on mobile for ooc dms / small dash interactions 💜💜💜

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🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful 🌺

ahh tysm 💜 and i'm excited to write more with your characters !!

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❝i’m afraid for you.❞ | @heireign

HER WORDS GAVE DAENERYS PAUSE. No one had been quite so direct with her about their concerns in returning home. It was true that her advisors often spoke of the challenges that may await the mad king's daughter when she crosses the narrow sea, that her victories in Essos would mean little to the commonfolk when she arrives with three dragons at her back. They told her all they knew of the five kings that vied for her seat, but they were not the blood of the dragon – and perhaps they shared Rhaenyra's fears, but perhaps she had a perspective they did not.

The younger queen's brows furrowed, her hands clasping Rhaenyra's with a gentle squeeze, the blood of her blood – the last of the dragons and a dynasty long lost. "Tell me what you mean," Dany insisted, "What do we have to fear when my children are nearly grown?"

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Standing over the dragon’s eggs that Illyrio had given her when she wed. She touched one, the largest of the three, running her hand lightly over the shelf. Black-and-scarlet, she thought, like the dragon in my dream. The stone felt strangely warm beneath her fingers… or was she still dreaming?

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𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄 as 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

daenerys' white gown, grecian neckline . 4.05 game of thrones.

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❛ i do not have the time for tears. ❜ | @loreforged, viserys iii

VISERYS' WORDS SLAPPED HER, lilac eyes already drowning beneath the weight of a crown he did not have. He did not have time for her tears, so she mustn't cry. Daenerys tried to appease him, as she often did, but blinking only served to spill them silently down pale cheeks. She knew the sight of them would only annoy him further; she wiped them away with a deep breath, though it sounded shallow by her own ears.

How stupid she felt, to meet her fate broken instead of poised !! She was a Targaryen princess, as Viserys often insisted, and she should be stronger. She should have known her marriage would be necessary for her king brother to win the throne, so why then did the arrangement he made for her feel like betrayal?

Their queen mother's dress was laid against her bed, meant for Daenerys to wear to a wedding. She must put it on, to give the seamstress time to fit it to her frame – but Daenerys could not imagine wearing the soft silk gown to wed a horse lord. She could only stare at it, the moisture in her eyes threatening to spill once more; she would not look at Viserys, fearing his expression would undo her, but she spoke to him anyway.

"Is this what you want for me ... truly?"

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XARO XHAON DAXOS WAS A PROUD MAN, and why should he not be? By his own words, he had been born in squalor, had built up his fortune by his own hand, and had earned his position with the thirteen under his own power. His story was almost as lavishly decorated as his manse, which he humbly extended to the mother of dragons to take pleasure in for her stay in Qarth. Anything she wanted, she need only ask. But Daenerys feared she may soon overstay her welcome; his intentions of having her stay with him had only become clearer – and she wondered which would be the first to run dry: his propensity for gifts, or proposing schemes of marriage and protection, or his patience. She guessed the latter, for all she would say to him was no.

Drogon stretched his wings from his perch on her shoulder, chirping in her ear as red eyes surveyed the stranger. "I would cut out his tongue for you, Khaleesi. He cannot lie to you if he cannot speak." Jhogo muttered, his Dothraki a rough promise. There were more comments from her bloodriders, their voices a crashing sea before Dany raised a small hand, "Xaro has given me a gift," she answered in their tongue, the idea of it making her uneasy as lilac eyes lingered on the man before her, "I will not have him harmed."

It was Jorah that brought her the rolled papers, marked with her host's broken seal, as promised. She read, and in no small words, Xaro's plan was laid before her. It could be a lie, as Jhogo had said. It would not be so difficult to have tampered with the ink, but Daenerys knew Xaro’s thirst for power was no small thing – it was what had gotten him far in life, and she knew many a man would lust for her dragons, the same as he. She had pieced some of it together herself, but to see his plans in writing was something else, his tenacity tangible beneath her fingertips. He would have her murdered and he would take her children as his own. Drogon rumbled, a low noise from the back of his throat, but it echoed the mother’s thoughts. She would see him stripped of luxuries and titles, and she would have his head before losing her children to his greed.

Maz Laros Rezlakh, a warrior, and a man, and perhaps Xaro's last gift to her – "If that is your will, you must serve it." Daenerys answered him in the common tongue, "and I must thank you for laying forth Xaro’s plotting to me, but I will not have men in my service if they do not wish to stay. It may be my mistake now, but if you choose to stay in my company, I will help you do what you must.”

@stormbcrn ♥️ for a starter.

He bowed his head in thought as a flurry of languages rushed by him, half-familiar  and  half  no  more  than  sound  to  an  untrained  ear.  Maz  drummed  his  fingers  lightly  on  the  sword  belt  by habit,  a  serious  brow  raised  only  to  take  in  the  faces  of  those  around  him.   "Xaro  is  many  things.  Vindictive,  charismatic,  a  fine  liar.  Yet...  self-worshipping  is  his  greatest  fault.  Take  this  for  yourself,  I  assume  you  recognise  his  seal  and  markings  —  he  expects  me  to  stay  here  as  your  gift,  and  report  back  to  him  on  the  promise  of  some  airy  title  in  Qarth,"  he  offered  the  parchments,  all  four  of  them,  to  whichever  of  the  Queen's  loyal  guards  was  to  take  it.  "Maz  Laros  Rezlakh  is  not  a  man  who  serves  blindly  a  narrow-sighted  man,  I  have  no  interest  in  being  Xaro  Xhoan  Daxos'  pet."

He stared at the silver queen, hands open as he explained: "I  know  he  declared,  or  intended  to  declare,  war  upon  you  before  he  departed.  He  is  stupid  enough  to  think  I  will  act  as  spy  for  him,  I  have  been  ordered  to  report  on  your  movements,  and  if  the  opportunity  presents  itself,  I  am  to  kill  you  and  send  your  braids  to  Xaro.  Read  for  yourself."  Whilst  it  might  be,  at  it's  face,  a  strange  thing  to  admit  and  speak  openly  on  —  Maz  had  been  irate  from  the  moment  it  became  clear  that  Xaro's  angst  towards  the  Valyrian  dragon-mother  was  grounded  in  his  perceived  public  embarrassment  as  his  proposal  and  'affections'  were  rebuffed.  A  pointless,  removed,  wasteful  use  of  his  skills,  and  that  of  the  Qartheen  people that Xaro  had  dragged  along  with  him into this idiocy.   "If  it  was  not  obvious  by  my  being  here,  I  have  no  intention  of  doing  any  of  that.  Xaro  made  the  mistake  of  freeing  me  from  his  service  when  he  made  a  gift  of  me  to  you.  I  have  no  intention  to  serve  his  whims, in fact... I would like to reveal his weakness, failings, and scheming to the Qartheen."

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Game of Thrones + Daenerys & Daario scenes // How to Flirt with the Queen of Dragons.

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DAENERYS DID NOT UNDERSTAND IT – whatever compelled her to reach for Jon, to feel his heart beat beneath her palm as if that was needed to convince her he was alive and well. The scars that marred his chest spoke in heated opposition to his steady breath, to his pounding heart. It was impossible, she thought, resisting the urge to trace fingers across the wounds sewn together in no discernible pattern – long since healed. Impossible, she thought, as shadows danced with blood in her memory while the maegi took all but life from her khal. And she could not find the words to ask how he managed to return to the living – how had he lived?

Winter winds whistled outside his window – an omen from beyond the wall, no doubt – and despite the reprieve offered from his chambers, Daenerys still shuddered inside the borrowed black cloak. Her lilac eyes flicker to the dying hearth; in it, the embers grew dim, and she wondered if she would ever grow used to the biting cold of the north.

Jon's voice brought her back, his heart hammering against her hand grounding her as their gaze met again for only a moment. "Do not apologize," she reassured him, though her hand pulled away from his chest. "I just –" she searched for the words as fingers clasped together in her lap. "I worried for you."

Pressing a hand flat against their chest, feeling their heartbeat speed up. | @stormbcrn sent a raven

her palm is flush with his toned chest , resting just above his breastbone. dark eyes remain fixed upon her hand , so much SMALLER than his own , so much SMOOTHER , her callouses acquired from riding atop her dragons no where near as rough as those he had acquired from years of wielding a blade. he is still so unused to being touched in such a way ──── the time he had spent with ygritte had been BRIEF , his duty and honor calling him back , the arrow she took STEALING her away from him before more could occur. their love had been DESPERATE , PASSIONATE , and though jon would carry that heartbreak to his grave , he finds himself falling for the LAST of house targaryen.

she is FIERCE and NOBLE , KIND and LOVING. all that a queen should be. for him to so much as be in her presence is a privilege , his title of KING IN THE NORTH be damned. beneath it all , he was naught but a BASTARD and an OATHBREAKER. yet she looks upon him with those beautiful lilac eyes and smiles , as though she sees beyond those things. as though she sees him only as jon.

the beating of his heart grows wild beneath her touch , and jon turns his head away from her , abashed. “ apologies , your grace. i am not used to being . . . touched , i suppose. ”

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HOW STUPID SHE FELT! Dany's hands fell from his hair, leaving the strands as they were matted against the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry, I only meant -" Her words came quickly, embarrassment heating her skin. "I should have asked you first."

@stormbcrn / daenerys + sandor + spotify wrapped meme 🎁 : a pearl by mitski

❝ i don't want your touch. it's not that i don't want you. ❞

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George R. R. Martin to Amazon.co.uk: The whole point of the scene in A Game of Thrones where Daenerys hatches the dragons is that she makes the magic up as she goes along; she is someone who really might do anything.

George R. R. Martin in an online Q&A from 1999: The birth of Dany’s dragons was unique, magical, wonderous, a miracle. She is called The Unburnt because she walked into the flames and lived.

George R. R. Martin to Desde Hollywood: Magic is coming more and more to the fore. Magic has awakened when the dragons awoken.