#Daenerys Targaryen imagine

[targaryenimagines]

The Khaleesi’s Queen

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,559

Summary: Daenerys doesn’t like to be interrupted; not when she has everything she could ever want within her grasp.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, slightly rough (and possessive) sex, oral (R!Receiving).

Author’s Note: Changed up the prompt, which I hope is okay Tried to figure it out the first way, but I wasn’t doing it any justice in the slightest. I suppose this can be seen as a continuation of My Khaleesi, but it can be a stand-alone too. (This is told mainly through Dany’s POV, if you’d like me to make a partner through the Reader’s just let me know!)

Series Masterlist

“Do you take me as some sort of fool, Councilor?”

The question is asked in an airy tone, one that a person would use when making a remark about the weather or the coming crop season, but the fiery undercurrent, like iron piercing through the sky, kept the man it was directed to in place. Violet eyes locked on dark brown, a message clear within them: Speak. Now. I’m running out of patience.

“O-Of cou-course not, Your Majesty,” the man stumbles, trying to alleviate the situation. “I-I just wished to tell y-you what your ancestors used t-to do.”

A sneer works itself across a beautiful face. “Yes,” she drawls, disgust clear in her tone. “But those same ancestors didn’t have the bond I do with my son.” Rising from her chair, Daenerys pins the cowering man in place with her gaze. “What will you have me do, Councilor? Have sex with my queen on the back of my son’s back in hopes of creating another?” She takes another measured step closer. “Do you think I’m unaware of what’s being said about me? That I’m oblivious to the gossip and rumors being spread?” Daenerys is a mere five feet from the man now. “Everyone within the Seven Kingdoms knows about my bond with my children, but you choose to council me into doing something that’d be sacrilegious in their eyes? That’d create even more discord within the land?”

Daenerys pauses then, tilting her head as she surveys the cowering man— from his balding head down to his recently polished shoes— and her gaze darkens further.

“So, I have to ask, do you take me for a fool?” She reiterates. “Because you must if you think I wouldn’t question you or your motives.”

He shakes his head, practically throwing himself at his Queen’s feet. “I-I swear to you, Your Majesty, I’m just a lo-lowly scholar. Ju-Just trying to help.” Fear weasels its way down his spine when he felt her lean closer to him. “I-I swear it.”

A breathy chuckle echoes across the room, barren of any form of amusement. “Oh? You swear it?” Crouching down, Daenerys forces the man to look into violet eyes. “I must believe you then.”

Snapping her fingers, the shadows around the edges of the room come to life as figures clad in obsidian black step from them, silver spears glinting under the light.

“Grey Worm.” The Captain of the Queensguard steps forward, back dutifully straight. “Nādīnagon zirȳla.”

At once Grey Worm, and another Unsullied, step forward and clasp the now begging man under his armpits and begin dragging him from the room. His cries for mercy falling on deaf ears: “N-No. Ple-Please, Your Majesty! Don’t do this. Please.”

Dark oak doors close with a resounding bang, cutting off his pleading.

Silence settles once more over the office, save for the faint crashing of waves against the surf outside and the cries of gulls. If Daenerys closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back in Essos. Back when things were simple but infinitely more complex. Settling back into her high-backed seat, Daenerys lets loose a soft sigh.

“Did you just have that man executed for telling you something you didn’t wish to hear?” A teasing voice breaks through the silence, the warm cadence of it bringing a smile to Daenerys’ lips. Looking down, she’s met by the sparkling gaze of her wife. “Or did you have that man executed for interrupting us?”

Huffing out a laugh, filled to the brim with adoration, Daenerys pulls you from your kneeling position, placing her hands on your hips once you’re comfortably straddling her. “I didn’t have him executed, ñuha perzys.” She places a delicate kiss to the corner of your lips. “I just wanted to have him leave my presence in a timely manner.”

You nuzzle closer to her. “And to do that you had to scare him? Are you certain it has nothing to do with his untimely entrance?” Wiggling on her lap, Daenerys has to bite back a groan as your familiar weight bears down on her growing erection. One that had found its home in your mouth a mere twenty minutes before— only to be unceremoniously ripped out when the man had knocked, requesting an immediate audience. “I know how you get when certain things don’t go your way.”

“Careful,” Daenerys warns, nipping at your exposed neck. Delighted in the way your breath hitches at the slightest bit of pressure to the small area underneath your jaw. “It’s not polite to tease your Queen.”

Rocking your hips more, you quip back. “It’s a good thing you’re not my Queen then.” Dipping your head, you press a heated kiss to her lips, groaning when her hardness hits just the right spot through her tailored pants. “You will always be my Khaleesi.”

The sound of the title, the first one she had ever truly earned, falling so sweetly from your lips, when the taste of you was still heavy on her tongue, brings a small snarl forth from deep within her chest, rumbling out across the relative stillness of the room. Standing, Daenerys grips you tightly by the waist and deposits you on her desk, uncaring of the various baubles that fall off due to the action. She easily finds her home between your thighs, pressed flush to your beautiful form.

“A Khaleesi is very different from a Queen,” Daenerys purrs, pressing another heated kiss to your lips. Running her tongue against the bottommost one, a husky sound of contentment being made when you let her gain access to the warm heat of your mouth. Fighting for dominance, one that she easily wins, Daenerys plunders further into your mouth, running her tongue along the roof of it, savoring the taste of you. Once she starts to become impeded by the lack of air, she pulls back and nearly comes undone at the wanton expression across your face— kiss swollen lips, lust darkened eyes, a delicate sheen of sweat along your brow. Exquisite. “A Khaleesi takes without question. A Khaleesi is rough, making sure her claim is known, but a Queen is soft, gentle.” Driving her hips into you, Daenerys snarls. “Are you certain you want a Khaleesi instead of a Queen?”

Throwing your arms around her, Daenerys is pressed firmly down, both your fronts flushed together. “Yes,” you hiss, nails digging into her shoulders. “I want my Khaleesi to claim me. To show me that I’ll only ever belong to her.” Your hips cant once more, trying desperately to get some friction. “Show me what a Westerosi Queen could never accomplish.”

At the mere thought of you being claimed by another, at anyone else having the privilege of seeing you come undone, Daenerys’ world view narrows to only you, only bringing you pleasure, so that you’d never think about leaving her.

She’d turn this world into nothing but fire and ash before she’d ever let that happen.

Nostrils flaring due to the possessive fire roaring within her chest, Daenerys takes in the delicate symphony of scents that wash over her due to the action: the sweetness of your bath oils mixed with the heady scent of sweat and the musky undertone of your arousal, strong despite the layers that separated her from the source of it.

“Lean back,” she growls, pressing one last deep kiss to your lips before she began to make her way down your body. Nimble fingers tearing at the buttons and fabric that she comes across, tongue and teeth lavishing the newly exposed skin with attention, until you’re lying delicious bare, save the last bit of your smallclothes, across the dark wood of her desk. The sight of your laid open, and waiting, for her brings a jolt of arousal straight through her body, but she didn’t wish to satisfy her own needs. Not yet. For now, she’d remind you that she’d only ever be the one to give you this sort of pleasure, that no one would ever be able to replace her. Daenerys settles onto her knees between your thighs, rubbing her nose lightly across the patch of darkening fabric at the apex of them. “Don’t even think about cumming until I say you can.” Violet eyes rise to meet your own, expression stern. “Do you understand?”

Nodding, almost frantically, you spread your legs further, giving her more room to maneuver within. Taking advantage of the additional space, Daenerys mouths over your soaking center, tongue flexing against the sodden material that kept it covered from her, as her hands clasped your hips to keep you in place. The sound of breathy moans and pleading whines from above her sending a delicious thrill down her spine.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" The question is rhetorical, she doesn't expect you to answer, but the questioning keen in response brings a soft smile to her lips for the briefest of moments. Pressing closer, Daenerys finally tears at the last barrier keeping you from her, the sight, and the scent, of your glistening center causing her own mouth to water in renewed hunger. "I crave you, ñuha perzys. More and more with each passing moment. I crave to bring you as much pleasure as you can withstand." Daenerys places a delicate kiss to your throbbing clit. "I crave your taste." Lowering her head, she dips her tongue teasingly into your entrance, savoring the flavor that could only ever come from you. "I crave the sounds you make as I ruin you."

Without preamble Daenerys buries her head between your thighs, thrusting her tongue as far into you as she could reach, the keening cry of pleasure tearing itself from your lips music to her ears. You pulse around her tongue, inner muscles flexing, as you try to pull her deeper into your depths, the feeling a reminder of how exquisitely tight you always are for her, something that brings another jolt of arousal coursing through her, making Daenerys aware of the throbbing between her own legs. Forcing her thoughts away from her own need, Daenerys consumes you, tongue lashing across your clit before diving back into your slick hole, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as she keeps you in place, despite your clear desire to chase whatever friction you could find. Your desperation for her, the clear need you had for her, almost made her take pity on you, almost allowing her to let you fuck her tongue, but the only thing you'd be cumming on in the near future would be her cock -- nothing more and nothing less.

Taking notice of the heightened pitch of your cries, the growling rasp building within your moans, Daenerys knows that you're close, that you're almost cresting the peak of the pleasure she's giving you, which means, with a small bit of reluctance, Daenerys tears herself away from you, tongue running along her bottom lip, savoring the remnants of you upon it. Your responding whine allows for a satisfied smirk to grace her beautiful face, soothed that you clearly wanted her as much as she wanted you.

Maneuvering quickly, Daenerys didn't have time to deal with all of the buckles that she wore, not to mention her boots, she simply opened her zipper and shoved her tailored pants as far down as they would go, her erection finally free once more, poised to claim what had always belonged to her. Rubbing herself against your wet heat, Daenerys arches a brow. "Do you want this?" It was the last warning she would give you before she claimed her wife completely, as a Khaleesi should. "You still have time to choose your Queen."

With a heaving chest, and narrowed eyes, you spit back. "The only woman I could ever want is my Khaleesi." You hook your legs around her hips, arching against her. "So, fuck me."

Not giving you a chance to rethink your words, not that she believed you would, Daenerys thrusts into her wife, the slick channel greeting her like an old friend, the feel of it causing a deep snarl to rumble from her chest. If she could manage running Westeros from right here, then Daenerys would never leave, but the times that she could make herself at home between your legs once more were that much more important to her when she could manage to find the time -- her devotion to you superseding all else barring the devotion she had to her son.

"Yes," you hiss, nails digging harshly into her clothed back. "It feels so good, Dany. So good."

Lowering her head, Daenerys harshly bites the sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue soothing the burn that no doubt appeared due to the action. "You're so beautiful." She nuzzles against a slightly older mark she had left a few days prior, quickly going to work to make it as fresh as the one she had just left. Slamming with more force into you, delighting in the sharp keen that's torn from your lips, and the way you flutter around her, due to the action, Daenerys finally detaches from your neck. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and you're all mine."

Nodding frantically, you arch against her lithe body. "I will only ever be yours, Dany." Taking her by the face, you press a needy kiss to her lips, all tongue and teeth as you pant against her. Clearly trying to stem off the encroaching orgasm. "I will only ever want you."

"And you'll only ever have me." Legs beginning to burn due to the power behind her thrusts, and the familiar fluttering within her belly, telling her that she wouldn't be able to last that much longer, Daenerys tugs at your bottom lip. "Cum for me, my queen. Cum for your Khaleesi."

As if a switch had a finally been flipped, your body arches completely off the desk, arms and legs slightly spasming, as your inner muscles tighten completely around her, and a fresh wave of wetness coats you both. The feeling coupled with the delicious sight, causes Daenerys to come with her own groan of your name, her hips still softly thrusting as she leads you through the last waves of your own orgasm.

Once you stop shaking, for the most part, Daenerys leans forward and places a delicate kiss to your brow, still firmly planted inside of you, nuzzling against your sweat-stained temple. "You were wonderful, ñuha perzys, but don't think that I've had my fill of you yet." She runs her hands down your sides, rubbing gently across your lower abdomen. "I still have to put my heir in you."

With a delightfully tired smile, you run your fingers through sweat-matted locks, the silvery-gold still looking radiant despite it all. "I love you, Khaleesi."

Violet eyes flutter shut at the title, the affection in which it falls from your lips, warmth suffusing itself within her chest because of it. Cradling your face delicately between her hands, Daenerys confesses. "I love that you still call me that."

You huff out a laugh, pressing a light kiss to her inner wrist. "Even if we're in Westeros now, Dany, you will always be my Khaleesi. No matter what."

"And you," Daenerys replies, adoration clear within her tone and gaze. "Will forever be my darling Queen."

[axelsagewrites]

Danerys Targaryen*My Queen

Pairing: danerys x f!reader (set in Meereen)

Word count: 813

Kintober Day ten: throne/semi-public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Warnings: mentions of war, throne sex, semi public sex, f!receiving oral smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“My queen you must rest,” you warned the blonde as she stood over the battle table with her advisors.

She shot you a nasty look, her eyes quickly darting back to the table, “War does not stop so I may rest,”

You grit your teeth, doing your best to respect your queen as you considered your conflicting orders. After all it was her that had made you her personal lady, the one who was to take care of her wellbeing. Whether that be to make sure she ate or bathed or even at times just to breathe.

Tyrion shot a concerned glance at you before his eyes trailed back to the table, “Perhaps if we came back to this with fresh minds,” he said, his eyes glancing around the room, “we would be more effective,”

Danerys sighed, walking away from the table silently to stand facing out a window. You turned to the men, nodding at them to leave which they silently did, muttering their graces as they left. Once the door was shut you watched Danerys’s sigh, her shoulders slumping down.

You walked up to her, placing your hands on her shoulders and soon she slumped back into your arms. “You must relax my queen. And that is an order,”

“I am your queen,” she said, no malice behind her voice but a distant silence, “it is my job to protect you my love,”

“And it is mine to keep you sane,” you said, ignoring how she stiffened in your arms. A few moments of silence past as you gazed over the streets of Mereen. The sun was setting, the darkening and for a moment it finally looked peaceful in the streets. “I have an idea,” you finally said, taking her arm and leading her out the room with no explanation.

“How is this supposed to help me relax?” she questioned, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as you sent the guards out the throne room to guard the doors. Daenerys took your hand as you led her up the stairs, refusing to answer her question just yet.

“Sit,” you told her, and she did without question. At this time of night no one roamed the halls apart from the guards but as you sunk to your knees a brief wash of panic covered her face, “No one is awake my queen, only us,” you said, your hands moving to her ankles, slowly moving your way up and pulling the dress up with it.

“What if someone walks in?” she asked, her pale eyes darting to the doors.

You shook your head, pushing the dress slowly up her thighs, “You are the queen, khaleesi of the great grass sea. You can do whatever you wish my queen however,” you said, kissing her knee gently, “right now you are tense. You cannot rule if you cannot even think,”

“So, what do you propose?” she asked, her voice suddenly quiet and her eyes locked on yours as you led soft kisses up her thighs.

You held back a smirk at her words, “I propose you let me help you unwind,” you said, hands trailing up under her dress to feel her bare hips, “Let me serve you my queen,”

Your movements paused, your eyes gazing up to hers waiting for permission. After a moment she finally nodded. You wasted no time, your lips diving in to kiss her already wet cunt. you heard her gasps, but you did not wait as you licked a stripe up her cunt, before your lips soon found her clit.

You sucked on it gently, massaging her bundle of nerves with your tongue and relishing in the quiet moans she let out. Your fingers sneaked up, teasing her hole for a moment before finally slipping two in. her hand soon found your hair, gripping it gently as you felt her hips buck against your face.

Deliberately you let out a small moan, letting your mouth vibrate around her clit making her thighs clamp around your head. You curled your fingers precisely and teasingly slow as you heard her murmur your name over and over like a song.

“Don’t stop,” she began to mumble, and you could feel her arching her back, pushing her cunt against your face. “Please,” your queen moaned like a commoner as your tongue continued its mission.

“Fuck,” she gasped, and you could feel her body stiffening under your touch. Your movements slowed, your mouth finally falling away so you could look up at the woman who slumped on the throne with a dazed expression.

“How do you feel my queen?” you asked, slipping your fingers out and moving to stand.

Daenerys reached out to take your hand, pulling you into her lap, “Much better now,” she smiled, her hands moving to rest on your hips, “but I will feel even better once I repay the favour,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[periodcostumefantasylover]

Ciri on fire in The Witcher 3x07

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

To Dream of Home | D. Targaryen

▹ Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Stark!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff with mentioned Angst

▹ Words: ~2.5k

▹ Summary: A storm at Dragonstone brings you and Daenerys together and allows for confessions of love to slip.

▹ Note: I am very gay, that is all. My love for the Targaryen's has returned and y'all are gonna be sick of me.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A storm raged on the island of Dragonstone. 

Charcoal skies were dappled with thick silver-black clouds that brought the heavy rains that shook the keep. Roaring thunder and electric blue lightning. Treacherous seas and a storm that could rival the vengeance of a god. The inhabitants of Dragonstone seemed acclimated to the severe weather.

You, however, were used to winter winds and thick snowfall. Not devastating rain and earth rattling thunder. Sleep eluded you which led you to where you were now. Locked away in a small room near your chambers, you made a makeshift altar upon your arrival to Dragonstone with your half-brother Jon.

“You spend an awful amount of time here.” 

The voice cut through the silence, an intrusion of your time of peace. Kneeled before the makeshift altar you’d created, a half dozen flickering candles illuminated the center of your face and carved shadows on the contours of it. Wordlessly, you finished the final verses of your prayer before lifting your lowered head and turning to face the intruder. 

At the doorway, not daring to cross into the room without permission, was Daenerys. Her hesitance to intrude was strange, seeing as Dragonstone was her keep you were a guest in.

Her hair was loose, waves cascading over her shoulder and down her back. The curls and creases left by her braids were the only reminders they’d been there. She wore dressing robes in hues of blue, embroidered flowers and designs following the curve of her body. She was beautiful in an ethereal kind of way. It was the type of beauty you half expected to be a facade, that one day you would wake to find Daenerys had only ever existed in your mind. 

“I find the prayer soothing,” you responded, slowly standing. Your legs were sore from kneeling on the hard stone too long. There was a crick in your neck that tinged painfully if you turned your head too far left or too far right. Yet you did your best to keep a grimace from your expression. The last thing you needed was Daenerys thinking it was her presence you found unpleasant and not the needling pain in your body. 

“Do you pray often?” She shifted her head, causing tendrils of silvery hair to move from over her shoulder to rest along her back. Violet eyes stared at you curiously, lips pursed in an almost grin. She hardly seemed to smile, the oppressive halls of Dragonstone mimicking the impending war for the Iron Throne. 

“I do, yet I do not believe the gods are listening,” you muttered the last part quietly, followed by a deep breath. 

You glanced towards the candles and the altar, recounting every moment you’d spent kneeling before ones just like it. The years had been unkind, the horrors only growing worse as the years passed. It had shaped you into the woman you were today, hardened by deaths you never should’ve witnessed. Yet there was a part of the ten-year-old girl that still lived within you, that believed the gods were listening and that if you prayed hard enough, they would grant your wishes. 

“I never did much praying as a child, my brother didn’t see the point.” Her eyes moved past you, staring at the makeshift altar. Lit by the dim light of the room, you could see a hint of melancholy that tinged her violet eyes blue. Your gaze lowered to the ground at the mention of her brother, her upbringing so different than yours had been.

Northerners were as harsh and cold as the winter winds they grew up in, but beneath all the cold, austere facades your family was as warm as the hearth in the great hall. You’d grown up with a family who loved and cared for you. Whispers of Viserys’ anger reached even the North, his grief twisted into madness. 

Both parties may have passed, but at least you had your family's love to hold onto during the darkest nights. Daenerys had no such thing. Nothing but the hope of reclaiming her family’s stolen valor as a light in the night. 

“If you want, we could pray together.” Her attention returned to you. “It may help you sleep through the storm.”

Daenerys pondered your offer for a moment before accepting with a single nod. She crossed the threshold into the room, her gown following her like a cloak. You returned to the kneeling position you were in before, Daenerys taking her place beside you. 

“Some people believe there are specific words you have to use, that then have to be said in a specific order or the gods won’t care. But I don’t believe that, I allow my feelings to guide my prayers. Perhaps that’s why the gods aren’t answering me, but I feel better that way.” 

Daenerys nodded, watching you with such attentive eyes you had to look away in fear of the flush that would appear on your face. “Do you say them out loud?”

“Sometimes, but mostly I just mentally recite them. It feels like it's my own secret that way.” There was a hint of coyness in your voice that made a smile appear on the corners of Daenerys’ lips. 

Silence fell over the room, only the roar of thunder and the patter of rain to be heard. The candles continued to burn, the wax melting and staining the stone flooring. There was a single window in the room, a flash of lightning filling it with pale blue light. Subconsciously, your eyes moved to Daenerys’ side profile. 

Her eyes were shut and her lips slightly parted. She looked so soft and innocent, and you wondered if this was who she could’ve stayed if not for the rebellion that harshened her worldview. What would she have become if she didn’t have to fight tooth and nail every moment of her life just to survive? The quiet of the room and the soft curves of her face allowed you to imagine just how different she may be in a different lifetime. 

Your eyes had lingered on her too long, you knew, but you couldn’t look away. Your heartbeat had sped up, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. She’d always made you feel giddy like a child, but now that there was no chaos to distract you. It was easier to hone in on the feelings she elicited from you. And perhaps you shouldn’t entertain them, but a small sliver of hope kept you holding on. 

The weight of your gaze must’ve been heavy because Daenerys lifted her closed eyes from the floor and met your gaze. Her expression was unreadable, but you could’ve sworn her eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your eyes. 

“What did you pray for?” The words fell from your tongue before you could consider how invasive they could be. But she didn’t seem offended, a small blossoming on her face as another streak of lightning filled the room. It made her skin glow, making her look even more otherworldly. 

“I prayed for home.”

Her answer sent a pang of sadness that was surely reflected in your eyes. She brought dragons back to the world and freed the slaves of Slaver’s Bay while uniting the Dothraki under one banner and making them cross the sea for the first time ever. So many fantastical acts were done because of her, it was easy to forget behind it all was just a scared girl. She could make herself of steel and ice, but underneath it all would always be flesh. 

“I pray for home as well,” you uttered. 

She raised a brow, non-verbally asking you to elaborate. Her expression was so attentive, like a sponge ready to soak up whatever information you may present to her.

How could you possibly ever deny her?

“I very much wish to return to the North. The short days and long nights, the air that was sharp with a bitter chill. Grey skies and white grounds. Snowflakes that fell into my mouth as Theon and Robb chased me to the edge of the woods. The sky was bleak and void of color, but the hearths in the Great Hall made light dance in the keep, mead keeping everyone warm and merry.”

The smile on your face was tinged with melancholia, the grief making your body lock up and freeze. Those days were long gone, and you could never return to them. That didn’t stop you from wishing for it, however.

To hope that one day you might wake up and find this had all been a terrible dream. Your mother and father were still alive, Robb was preparing to become Lord of Winterfell; Arya and Sansa would continue to bicker and Jon would join the Night’s Watch to make something of himself. Everything would be right and war wouldn’t cast a shadow far darker than that of the worst winter storms. 

But those were the wishes of a naive child, the life you were in is the life you’re stuck with. But perhaps in another lifetime, you got to live out every fantasy and forgotten dream.

“That sounds beautiful.”

Daenerys’ voice pulled you from your reminiscing, your eyes wandering back to hers.

“It was.” 

“And yet you left Winterfell to come here with your brother?” 

You swallowed thickly. Winterfell had become a bittersweet place. Walking the Great Hall felt as if you were in a haunted house. The ghosts of past memories lingered in every corner, the echoes of laughter you’d never hear again filling your head. The relief being home had brought you had been short-lived, the weight of the betrayal of Theon and the Bolton’s tainting it. 

Winterfell wasn’t home anymore. 

“I--” you stuttered, unsure of just how to put your feelings into words. How do you tell someone that your home doesn’t feel like home anymore? How do you explain everything you had fought for felt empty in the end? It didn’t lift your pain or mend the scars of the past years. Instead, it ripped over the scabs and left you bleeding in the snow. 

“I don’t know if Winterfell is my home anymore.”

Daenerys hummed, nodding her head. Her expression was solemn and in her eyes, you saw understanding. She knew all too well the conflicting sentiment of fighting for something you may not want in the end. 

“When I was a girl, Viserys and I lived in a house in Braavos with a red door and lemon tree outside my window. It was the closest thing to home I’d had.” 

Subtly, you scooted closer to Daenerys, eager to unravel more of her elusive past. She hardly spoke of her life with Viserys, most of the memories too painful to reminisce on. And maybe, just maybe, her vulnerability was a sign that your feelings weren’t so unrequited. 

“What was it like?” You prod for her to speak more on her time in Braavos, enraptured by the glimmer in her eyes. 

“It was a beautiful house and so large, at least it seemed large at the time. There was even a room with a wooden beam with animal faces carved in it. I had my own room and a window to peer outside. I’d sit there for hours, watching the sunrise and the sunset.”

Her hand rested on the floor, and tentatively, you reached over and placed your hand over hers. You half expected her to brush you off, but instead, she leaned closer to you. Shoulder to shoulder, you could smell the floral oils her hair had been washed with. 

“What happened to it?” 

She sighed, eyes wandering back to the altar. “Our patron passed and the servants sent us away. But even after all these years, I still long to return. To escape to the innocence of my youth.”

A beat of silence passed, Daenerys longing words hanging in the air. 

“We could always return.”

Daenerys turned, meeting your gaze. Inches separated your face from hers, and this close up, you could see the faint freckles that created constellations on her skin. 

“And if it’s no longer standing?” 

Your heart stuttered as you hesitated on your next words. It was now or never, the time to lay your cards on the table and learn if your hope was delusional. 

“We could build a new one with a lemon tree just outside the bedroom. I’m not much of a widdler, but I could try to carve new animal faces in the wooden beams in all the rooms.”

For a moment Daenerys doesn’t speak, doesn’t even seem to breathe. Her eyes are locked with yours, wide and unblinking. Nerves begin to create a thousand cuts in your mind, perhaps you’d been too forward in your confession. 

“And you would stay with me?”

She wanted to hear you say it, to verbalize you’d never leave her side, not willingly. 

“I’m not much for the heat, but I could learn to love it to never leave your side.”

She exhaled a small puff of air, a smile lighting up her face. The apples of her cheeks were rounded and rosy, violet eyes twinkling like the stars in the sky. The sudden impulse to run your fingers through her hair came over you. And you acted on it, gently carding your fingers through the silver-gold strands of hair. 

“Then perhaps we meet in the middle and build our house with the red door in a more temperate climate.” 

She leaned closer, the tips of your noses brushing. 

“We could make our home on the mountainside? It would leave plenty of room for the dragons,” you suggested. Daenerys smiled, the whisper of a laugh leaving her mouth. The sound was the sweetest melody you’d ever heard. You’d never wanted to stop hearing it. 

“And direwolves?” 

“Maybe one or two.” 

You cut off whatever Daenerys may have replied with, placing your lips against hers. The kiss was gentle as if to seal the promise you’d made. She smiled into it, her hands weaving themselves around your neck. You pulled her closer, practically pulling her into your lap; you’d wanted her as close as possible. To bask in the warmth radiating from her body and the softness of her skin under your fingertips. 

Perhaps things would’ve been different in another lifetime, where Daenerys got to be the princess she should’ve been and you the daughter of a very much alive Ned Stark. But perhaps in those lifetimes you and Daenerys would never be more than passing acquaintances. She'd be the princess of the kingdom and you the lady-daughter of the Warden of the North. 

This lifetime felt like trying to sail through a storm and Daenerys was the lighthouse guiding you to the shore. The death and loss had been painful, but it all led you to this moment with Daenerys. It nearly made the events of the past years worth it.

"Let's win this war so we can build our silly little house," you muttered against her lips, eliciting another laugh from Daenerys before she placed her lips on yours again.

You would give Daenerys her house with the red door and the lemon tree outside, no matter the cost.   

[in-my-feels-probably]

hey! Is it okay if you write something for Daenerys where reader is usually very playful and is suddenly scared of Dany? After the thing in King's Landing, R is very cold and overly polite with Dany, calling her "Your Grace" and flinching away from her. Happy ending and female reader please!

A Better World

Request: hey! Is it okay if you write something for Daenerys where reader is usually very playful and is suddenly scared of Dany? After the thing in King's Landing, R is very cold and overly polite with Dany, calling her "Your Grace" and flinching away from her. Happy ending and female reader please!

Hi! I am so sorry it took me so long to get to this request, I was so busy and then I took a break from writing. I wanted to make sure I took some time with this request when I started writing again, I love this one. 

This is my first time writing for Daenerys and Game of Thrones, thank you for sending this in. I love this request, I have so many thoughts about Daenerys’s ending, she didn’t deserve to die and I miss her. This is a little different from your request, but I tried my best to stick to it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: mentions of death, murder, grief, execution, let me know if i missed any)

—

You had never known another woman like Daenerys.

Fierce, but kind, and undyingly loyal. She was strong, and brave, and everything the realm needed her to be. You watched in awe at everything she did. 

She often spoke of how she couldn’t do it without you by her side. From the desert wasteland after Khal Drogo’s death, to her dragons being stolen. From witnessing the deaths of slaves, to making decisions regarding the lives of those who betrayed her. 

There were countless times she thanked you for your ability to lift her spirits and keep her going. She loved that about you, how easily you were able to get her to smile and laugh, and keep her uplifted and driven.

When she and her armies secured Meereen after the attacks from the Sons of the Harpy, resulting in the death and near death of Ser Bariston Selmy and Grey Worm, she found the time to take you aside to confide in you. 

In her chambers at the end of the night, she laid in your arms with her head resting on your shoulder. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

You sat up, looking her in the eye. “Do what, love?”

“Watch people die. Watch the people who put their faith in me suffer, because I cannot protect them.”

“No,” you quickly shook your head. “You cannot think like that. You saved these people. Without you, they would still be suffering, even worse than now. You freed the slaves, gave the armies something to believe in. Someone to fight for. You are doing all you can. You are one person, you cannot be expected to save every single person who looks to you for help.”

“Why should they follow me if I can’t save them? Why should you? I was so worried for you today, I didn’t know if you were safe or not.”

“I’m fine, see?” You said, dramatically showing her your arms and legs to prove you hadn’t been hurt. 

Daenerys tried to fight it, but a smile broke through, and yours grew at the sight of it. 

“There’s that smile.”

You cupped her cheek in your palm, running your thumb across her cheekbone. 

“People die every day, Dany. People get hurt. There’s nothing you can do to stop that. What you can do is lead these people. You can break the wheel, so that nobody else has to suffer in the ways you did. The people follow you because they believe in you…I believe in you. You’ll be the one to save us all. So please, do not worry about my safety, or whether or not I’m alright. I will always be alright if I’m around you. I may have my fears, but I have never once feared for my life when it came to following you.”

—

Sticking by Daenerys’s side for the better part of her adult life, the things that scared you were far and few in between.

You had watched her take cities and free slaves. You watched her command armies, getting the Dothraki and Unsullied to believe in her fight. She was fierce and relentless, never stopping until the work was done. 

You had watched her dragons hatch and grow into the beasts they are now. Others might shake in terror at the sight of them, but to you, they really were Daenerys’s children. You never feared them. They never hurt you.

Together, after uniting the North, you had fought the Night King. You lost many, and feared for the death of friends and family, but you made it through.

You had watched both Viserion and Rhaegal die. 

In your years with Daenerys, their deaths were one of the only times you had been afraid to be around her. Watching her grieve was more than you could take. You watched her grow cold. 

But still, she was your Daenerys. Your girl, your Queen, your best friend. With you by her side, she made it through. Despite the rage and sorrow you knew she felt, she grew warm again, opening back up to you. You made it through together. 

You had fought through your fears together, and now, there wasn’t much you were truly afraid of. You had been through it all together, what was left to fear? 

—

The darkest day was when she rained fire down upon King’s Landing.

You watched in horror as she sat upon Drogon, seething as she listened to the city ring the bells in surrender. You knew that face. 

Missandei had been killed just days before, and Daenerys was devastated. That, on top of the North rejecting her as their leader, and the deaths of her dragons, it was more than she could bear. 

Instead of heading straight to the Red Keep, she set fire to the streets. The sound of screams filled your ears, people desperately trying to run away. Mothers calling for their children, crying when they couldn’t find them. 

Soldiers from the Keep were being slaughtered by the Dothraki and Unsullied, as well as any man who tried to stand in their way. 

Jon, who had been charged with keeping you safe in the unlikely event that you would need protection, kept you close by his side when the real chaos began. 

You were supposed to stay with Tyrion, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You wouldn’t stand by and let your people get hurt because Cersei was too prideful to save her own. You had gone down to the streets to try and reason with the soldiers fighting for Cersei to give up. The city was surrounded, there was nowhere for them to go, and it was a fight they would not win. All they had to do was wait for the bells to be rang, and that was it. 

Men and women screamed for the bells to be rang, begging and pleading with their Queen to surrender. Daenerys watched overhead atop Drogon, and you knew even when the bells were rung that it wasn’t the end. 

She first headed for the Keep, and you had a fleeting sense of relief that she was going to do the right thing. The people would be spared, and Cersei would die. That’s how it should have been. But people started running and screaming, and your heart sank from your chest.

Just as the men laid down their swords, and you were going to retreat to safety, fire filled the streets. 

Grey Worm commanded the Unsullied to kill the Keep’s soldiers, with the North men and Dothraki quickly following. Jon convinced a few to stay back, to not kill anyone, but quickly was forced to fight back when the soldiers swamped him and his men.

Jon immediately brought you to stand behind him, handing you a sword off a dead soldier. You knew how to use it, and you’d fight for your life, but you were scared. Even if you survived this, you wouldn’t survive dragon fire if Daenerys unknowingly turned your way on Drogon.

“Stay close to me! Don’t leave my sight!” He yelled, and you quickly nodded, following behind him.

Soldiers were burning in the streets. Mothers cried as they clutched their children to them, hiding in alleyways. Smoke and ash encased the city.

You killed any soldier that tried to kill you, but mostly watched in dazed horror as you followed Jon through the streets, running as fast as you could. 

Soldiers from your own side were murdering fathers in front of their wives and children, forcing them to run. Mothers were sacrificing themselves, giving their now orphaned children just enough time to escape. 

You could see it in Jon’s face that he was just as horrified as you, only killing when necessary. His men weren’t listening to him, and screams filled the streets. 

“Find somewhere to hide,” he told a woman who had narrowly escaped a soldier's wrath, motioning for her to get up.

You grabbed his arm, turning him towards you. “Jon, there’s nowhere to go.” 

He gave you a sad look, pulling you with him. “Just keep going.”

Ash filled the air, making it hard to see. Injured citizens were laid out all through the streets, screaming and crying in agony. Others called out for lost family, unable to find them. People were running, trampling over each other.

“We’re going to die here,” you said, narrowly escaping the buildings caving in. 

“She wouldn’t hurt you. Not you.”

You heard his words, but you didn’t believe him. An hour ago, you would have. But now, you were afraid. So afraid, and it was because of her.

“Fall back, Y/N. We have to go beyond the wall, we have to get out of the city. Fall back! Fall back!” He yelled to the surrounding people, pleading with them to follow him. 

You kept a hand tightly clutched to the back of his coat, not daring to let go. You followed where he led, trying to shut out the sounds of explosions, screams, and cries. 

The Dothraki went in to finish the job, killing any survivors the flames and wreckage missed. 

—

Within an hour, the fighting had stopped. 

There was so much ash in the air that it looked like it was snowing. You were choking on it, it clinging to your eyes and scratching its way down your throat.

Casts of people's incinerated bodies lay throughout the streets, small fires surrounding them. 

You and Jon hadn’t said a word to each other in minutes, both in shock. The silence was so loud it was beginning to hurt your ears. 

Tyrion led you through what was left of King’s Landing, before parting to go find his siblings, if that was even possible. 

Jon kept you by his side. Slowly, you walked together to the steps of the Keep, trying your hardest not to look at the dead children scattered in the street. There were a few survivors left in the city, dazedly wandering around.

You stumbled upon Grey Worm, who had Lannister soldiers in a line on their knees. He had sentenced them to die in the name of the true Queen. Jon couldn’t stop him, and you moved onward before the executions began. 

You walked through the army of Dothraki, and then the Unsullied. A banner with the Targaryen house sigil was hung over the wall. 

You climbed the steps with Jon, spotting Grey Worm at the top. Jon stopped halfway up the steps as he heard Drogon’s roar, turning to look.

You kept going. You were afraid that if you turned around, and you saw Daenerys atop Drogon, you’d never be able to get the memory of it out of your head. Your view of her would be permanently scarred. You heard the cheers of her army as she flew overhead, and you quickly climbed the rest of the steps, turning around at the top to face the armies. 

Daenerys suddenly walked through the archway, coming to stand at the top of the staircase. 

You shrunk into the corner, and were unnoticed by her. Jon took his place beside you, laying a hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said quietly. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

You nodded, watching as Daenerys addressed her army. First the Dothraki, and then the Unsullied. You had a vague understanding of each language she used, catching a few words here and there. You found it hard to pay attention to her speech, your new fear of her now outweighing your love for her. 

She spoke with a fury that you had once admired. 

But now, as you listened to her speak, you feared she was following in her house’s footsteps. She was supposed to be the Targaryen that changed everything. The one to save you all. Now, you weren’t so sure. 

Tyrion appeared, standing at her side. You only caught glimpses of their conversation, their voices drowned out by the cheers of the army. 

“I freed my brother,” you heard Tyrion say. “And you slaughtered a city.”

He removed his Hand of the Queen pin, throwing it down the steps. It grew quiet, and you anxiously watched as Daenerys commanded for him to be taken away. 

As Tyrion was led away, Daenerys finally turned around and spotted you. 

You must have been a sight to see. Covered in ash and blood, your clothes torn and your hair disheveled. A dead man’s sword, still in your grasp. You willed yourself not to shrink away from her gaze in fear, keeping your eyes on hers. 

She let out a small gasp, concern written across her face. Daenerys had never anticipated you getting hurt. You were supposed to stay outside the city and away from danger, yet here you were, lucky enough to have narrowly escaped death. 

A death that would have been by her hands. 

“Y/N,” she muttered, taking a step towards you. 

You took an involuntary step back, internally scolding yourself for showing weakness. Her eyes widened, and she gently took another step toward you. 

“What happened to you? Are you hurt?” She asked, softly cupping your chin and turning your head to get a better look at you. 

You gently pulled your face from her grasp, shaking your head. Your voice was small. 

“I’m fine, Your Grace. Just a few scratches. Jon was there to help me.”

Daenerys was confused by your words and distant tone. “Why were you here, I told you to—“

“I’m sorry,” you quickly said, taking a step back. “If you’ll excuse me, my Queen. I need a moment alone.”

You rushed off before she could say another word, finding an alleyway to duck into. You collapsed against the wall, taking deep and erratic breaths. How could this have happened? Why didn’t she accept the surrender?

It was just that morning that you looked at the woman you loved with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. Now when you looked at her, you felt fear strike in your heart. 

You thought through the events of the day. You watched her burn a city to the ground, with everyone in it. You watched soldiers from your own side slaughter innocent mothers and children. You heard cries for help as Drogon flew over the city, incinerating everything in his path. 

This was not the first time Daenerys chose the violent path. She murdered the slavers of Astapor. She crucified hundreds of Meereenese nobles. She burned the Dothraki khals alive. And who could argue with that? You were by her side for all of it, and you justified each one. They were evil men doing evil things, they deserved to die. They didn’t deserve her mercy, they deserved the gruesome deaths they got. 

But after so many liberations, the bodies began to pile up. The streets were filled with blood and ash, and who was left to rule over all of them now? Your Queen.

She freed the people of Meereen, Slaver’s Bay, and now Kings Landing. She freed them, and she would continue liberating people until the entire world was free. 

At its core, it wasn’t a bad idea. Daenerys has a good heart, you knew that much. She was doing what she genuinely believed was right. Freeing people, you agreed with. Breaking the wheel was a necessary step. But the methods in which she did and would continue to do it weren’t excusable, even by you. 

To her, it seemed as if building a better world, and burning it to the ground, were one in the same.

Fire and blood was in her nature. You hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or not yet. 

—

A few hours later, you were called to the Red Keep. 

Daenerys had requested your presence. Grey Worm led you to the throne room in silence, opening the door and guiding you in. 

“That will be all. You may leave us,” Daenerys said, and he closed the door behind you. 

She was standing before the Iron Throne, running a hand along the melted down swords. She hadn’t turned to look at you yet. 

“Tell me,” she said, her voice soft. “What were you doing in the city? You could have been killed.”

You fought the urge to scoff at her, fiddling with your hands in front of you. Biting your tongue, you answered. 

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“Your Grace?” She asked incredulously, turning around to face you. 

You held your breath as she stared, feeling like her eyes were piercing straight through you. 

“Is that not what you want to be called, My Queen?”

“Not by you. You’ve never referred to me as such. Why now?”

You chose your words carefully, keeping your gaze on the floor. “You have the throne now. You have control of the realm, you are now its ruler. As Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, is it not my place as a subject to refer to you as such?”

She ignored your answer, asking again. “Why were you in the city?”

“I couldn’t stand by any longer. The city had fallen, but the bells hadn’t been rung. If there was any chance that I could convince Cersei’s soldiers to stand down and give up control, I had to take it. I followed Jon’s men to catch up with him, and just as the soldiers laid down their weapons, the fires started. The fighting followed. I had no way of getting out of the city on my own, and so I stayed with Jon.”

You heard her approach you, faintly flinching as she got close. 

“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice quiet. “Y/N…look at me.”

Reluctantly, you glanced up to meet her gaze. She reached out, taking one of your hands. You stiffened, but didn’t pull away. You felt tears stinging your eyes, and willed them not to fall.

“Why can’t you look at me?” She asked, squeezing your hand. “Do you fear me?”

It was silent for a moment. You looked into her eyes, feeling a twinge in your heart. 

“What if I do?”

A look of sadness set on her face. It pained you to see it, so much so that you almost gave in to her touch.

“Why?”

“Have you been down there?” You asked, growing angry. “Have you seen all that you’ve done?”

“I did what was necessary–”

“No!” You said, cutting her off. “No. You did what was easy.”

You watched as her jaw clenched, and she dropped your hand. She moved to turn around, but you grabbed her shoulder to stop her. She looked at you in shock, but didn’t say a word.

“I could have died, Daenerys. Do you realize that?”

“I would never hurt you–”

“But you did! I was lucky compared to most of the people down there. I’m still alive. I didn’t lose anyone. I can’t say the same for anyone else. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. When I heard the bells toll, and the city had surrendered, I felt relief. You were supposed to go for the Keep! This was just about Cersei.”

“Cersei gave me no choice!”

You shook your head. “There’s always a choice, Daenerys. I watched innocent men, women, and children die today. Either at the hands of your soldiers, or from the fire and destruction you rained down upon them. I killed men today. I ran for my life for hours through the streets. I would have died if Jon wasn’t there to protect me. When it was all over, we walked by complete and utter destruction. Families burned to ash. Children…burned to ash. You once told me you had no interest in being Queen of the ashes. Has that changed?”

Daenerys took a step closer to you, laying a hand on your cheek. “I did not intend for you to get caught in the crossfire. You must believe me, I would never put you in harm's way. I’d never forgive myself if you had gotten hurt.”

You pressed your face into her palm, feeling fresh tears spill onto your cheeks.

“I understand that this city is corrupt. And I know how hurt you are, I know how much you’ve lost. Jorah, Missandei, your dragons, the North’s support. There’s nothing I could say that would make that any better. I know how much you’ve had to grieve, and I wish that I could take that pain away from you…but you punished a city for it. This throne, it has corrupted you. It’s made you lose your way. Dany, I know your heart is good. I know that. But I will not stand here and justify what you did today. How can you?”

Her face crumpled at your words, and she sank to the floor. You slowly followed her, kneeling at her side. 

“All my life, I’ve waited for this moment. I’ve sacrificed so much, Y/N. I’ve seen too much suffering at the hands of people like Cersei Lannister. I will not stand idly by when there is something I can do to change that.”

“I would never ask you to. I understand the world you’re trying to create, Dany. You have done so much good already. Freeing people, killing tyrants, and that is how it is supposed to happen. I have stood by your side and supported you through it all, have I not? But this is too far. Please tell me you see that.”

“I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

You nodded, taking her hands.

“I know that. But hear me now, and hear me well. You are not your Father. You are not him, or your brothers, or any other man that has come before you that has been responsible for the suffering of countless others. There is this rage in you, one that I think has been brewing for generations. Don’t let it control you. You are stronger than it. Be better than the ones who came before you.”

She clung to your hands like she was too afraid to let you go. “I don't know if I know how to do that.”

“I’ll help you,” you said, squeezing her hands. “We all will. I won’t lose you, Dany. Not after everything. But I will not stand by your side any longer if continuing down this path is what you choose.”

“I did what I thought was right,” she whispered, and you felt your heart crumble at her words. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you did. That’s why I love you so much. You’re my best friend, and My Queen. I’ve watched you for years, in awe of you every day. You’re strong, and you’re driven, and you’re brave. You care about people, and you’ve saved so many. You’re good, Daenerys.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away.

“I believe in you, Dany. I believe in your fight. But what happened today is not the way. This rage that is inside of you, in some ways, I admire it. But it is controlling you. If you truly mean what you say, then we must do better. Building a better world means protecting those who cannot protect themselves.”

She listened to your words, and sat for a moment in silence. After a moment, squeezing your hands, she stood and walked to the edge of the room where the wall had fallen. She let out a shrill whistle, and Drogon appeared from below. 

He crawled inside the keep, facing his Mother. She turned to you, giving you a sad smile, before turning back to Drogon.

“Drogon…Dracarys!”

Standing tall, letting out a roar, Drogon set fire to the Iron Throne. 

You shielded your face from the heat, watching in shock as he melted the throne down into nothing more than a pool of steel on the floor. Daenerys backed up, stopping when she stood by your side. You reached for her hand, gripping it tight and intertwining your fingers. 

Daenerys never ceased to surprise you. She was the strongest person you had ever met. She waited years to sit upon the Iron Throne, and had given up so much of herself for it, only to burn it to the ground when it really mattered. 

Your Dany was good, and she would not let herself be controlled by the demons that controlled the very men she sought to overthrow. The wheel would be broken, that was a dream she’d never give up on. But it would be broken by justice and mercy, not fire and blood.

When it was over, she turned to you. “I won’t be weak. I won’t allow the evil of this world to continue. Sometimes, fire and blood is necessary. It is the way, for those who deserve it. But it won’t control me. I won’t be cruel. I won’t kill those who don’t deserve it, and I’ll protect those who cannot protect themselves. You were right. I don’t want to be Queen of the ashes…I want to be Queen of the free. I said that I wanted to leave the world better than I found it, and that is what I intend to do.”

You smiled, bringing her into your arms. “I’ll follow you every step of the way, My Queen. As long as it takes. We’ll do it together.”

—

A/N - Hi! Thank you again for being so patient. If you couldn’t tell, I love Daenerys, and I miss her so much. She deserved so much better. Anyways, I hope you liked it, let me know what you think!

[winter-soldier-101]

The Princess that was promised sneak peek-1

(Y/N) watches on as her mother and brothers all died before their time but now she was all alone but (Y/N) knew she must continue on and defeat the darkness from the North.

172 years later

(Y/N) sat next to Queen Rhaella as she was giving birth.

“Oh Rhaella she is beautiful, what will her name be?” (Y/N) asks Rhaella.

“Daenerys her name is Daenerys, (Y/N) I’m dying so please watch over my children keep them safe” Rhaella whispers to (Y/N).

(Y/N) looks at Daenerys and in her eyes she can see her mother and brothers and sister.

(Y/N) wraps Rhaella’s body and lays her on a bed of wood and lays Rhaegar’s body next to her and calls Baelor.

“Rhaella was a wonderful mother she loved her children and protected them with her life, Rhaegar was a true dragon and now his fire is done burning now these two dragons are gone…..Dracarys” (Y/N) says as Baelor breathes out fire.

(Y/N) holds Daenerys and grabs Viserys hand as they say goodbye to their family.

“(Y/N) what’s going to happen now?” Viserys asks (Y/N).

“We are leaving soon Viserys I’m going to protect you and your sister” (Y/N) tells Viserys.

[multifandomfix]

Imagine Rhaegal bonding with you, making Daenerys realize your feelings for her.

It seemed that Daenerys had scarcely seen you in the past weeks. It was unusual, and it was starting to concern her. You provided her the best company, allowed her to just be Daenerys, not a woman of various titles and high importance, but merely human.

She inquired as to your whereabouts, and the best answer she was given was that you’d gone out to watch her dragons circle overhead. When she inevitably found you, you had been doing just that. Yet now you stood on the cliff’s edge, Rhaegal hovering in front of you. She realized then that you were reaching out to touch the great beast. Her instinct was to stop you, but had Rhaegal seen you as a threat, you would have been burnt already.

Had this been what you’d been doing all the times you were absent from her? You’d been forming a bond with Rhaegal, but why? And then it hit her. You’d done it for her. Why else? Anyone else would have avoided the dragons out of fear, but not you. It was the truest display of love, for there was no loving her without loving her dragons.

For @dragonxinia

Daenerys Targaryen: @riveranddoctorsong123, @hc-geralt-23, @floresferae, @geekyandgay98, @lady-darkswan3, @abitchnamedtia, @witchthewriter

[dannyboy-writes]

Of thrones and dragons

Daenerys x male Dragonrider reader who's from ulthos? I will probably make a part to of this who knows

Ser Jorah had told Daenerys tales of Ulthos’ weather. The thick jungle.

Trees taller than she had ever seen and the murmur of wild creatures bristling her skin. 

Countless thoughts running through her mind. But one most present. She should’ve brought Drogon with her.

Click.

A broken branch? A booby trap? Or something else?

“Nobody move,” she whispered, raising an eyebrow at Greyworm.

A bright orange ray shone above them. Almost like sunlight.

Definitely warmer.

“Maybe he wasn’t a myth,” Missandei spoke softly.

Suddenly the beast dropped in front of them, with the Unsullied unpacking their spears, and Daenerys tensing all her muscles. Bracing herself.

Dark green scales covered the entirety of your dragon. His face stoic and with gritted sharp teeth. 

He was breathing slowly, Daenerys noticed. Calm, deep breaths.

But his eyes were focused on her. 

And not only his’, she realised. 

You dismounted softly from your beast, ignoring completely the army in front of you. Their spears were sharp and in your direction. 

Every soldier was looking at you more menacingly than the last.

Your eyes however, were focused on her.

Long, pale hair, with braids as long as her waist. Falling completely over her back.

Her eyes were inviting, but there was a tint of worry. Of uncertainty.

You shifted your eyes towards your beast, caressing his side slowly until he calmed with you.

“Are you y/n?” She asked.

Quickly your eyebrow raised in your forehead. “Who are you?”

“I’m Daenerys, of house Targaryen. Blood of Old Valyria.”

“And what brings you to the wilds, your majesty,” you mocked.

“I’ve been searching for you for some time. I was starting to believe you were a myth.” She stopped. “Or a ghost.”

“Ah,” you smiled. “And what’s to say I’m not.

“Terrible dangers lie in this land. Untamed beasts and whatmore.” You grinned.

“And tamed ones?” 

“Oh, yes, those tend to be the worst. But don’t worry, Wildfire here won’t do you any harm,” you smiled, patting your beast. “Nor will I.” 

She smiled and called down her army. “I am in search of a dragon rider, some people called him the best and mightiest of them all. I’ve heard tales of the riders of Uthos.”

“Oh, did you? What did you hear if you may?”

“I heard the forests of Uthos had beasts so swift that their scales blended in with the greenery. And their riders had unmatched skills. Like nothing ever seen in the entire world.”

“Yes, that is true. And why would you need a dragon rider with unmatched skills.” You asked, “Blood of old Valyria you said, you’re supposed to have dragons as well. Although your kind faded with time, I assume the dragons remained.” 

“Sadly, no.”

“Whoever told you that is a liar, and you a fool for believing them. Dragons will outlive us all. Just as we outlive birds, and them ants. It’s the way of the world.”

Her face went stoic. “Will you help me in my quest to conquer Westeros, y/n?” She inquired.

You laughed, “Why would I, I don’t give a damn about Westeros. I don’t even know you, for all that.”

“You could have a throne,” she offered.

“I have a throne, or do you see me taking you to speak with someone about this? Why would I want another one? And one so distasteful.” You grabbed a stone from the ground throwing it lazily, “Why do you?” 

[poisonsage808]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with sansa, dany and margaery please? Reader has a black cat that absolutely despises the ladies, always hissing and even trying to scratch them when they get too close to the reader LMAO, how would the ladies react? Thank you ^_^

Her lover was sweet, kind and cuddly. Her beloved was utterly perfect! So why the hell did her beloved have such a horrible creature at their feet that seemed to try to literally scare them away.

♡ Margaery Tyrell ♡

• It started out as a useful sign. Wherever the beast was, as were you. It seemed the creature couldn’t be without your presence. Tolerable at first, now bothersome

• It hisses when Margaery is but two steps apart from you, any closer and looks about ready to mask her with power it shouldn’t possess.. but might

• “Darling,” Marg coos sweetly from the doorway, “Perhaps you would join me for a swim today? The weather is perfect for it!”

“I’d love to.” You smile as you rise to your feet, abandoning your work to offer her your arm.

Margaery wears a triumphant smirk as she accepts, hooking her arm through yours and leading you to the pond

• The damn cat sits on top of her abandoned dress and glares from shore as Margaery steals kiss after kiss from you. In the water you’re completely hers. Unfortunately unless she bargains with a witch to somehow turn you both into mermaids, it seems she’s stuck sharing your attention with this beast that loathes her

♡ Sansa Stark ♡

• If wolves did not cower in the face of lions, she certainly wouldn’t for a domesticated variant of one

• Sansa ignores your black haired beauty as it rests on your lap, batting her pale hands away if she dares to rest it anywhere on you

• Once it hissed at her and she hissed back

• Sansa does a sweep of her room before you enter. Hiding spots empty, windows closed, it seems she’s safe from torment for the night— but the moment you open the door the cat darts under the bed

• You laugh, though you don’t find it as funny when your cat hops on the bed when you’re trying to kiss your fiery lover

“Shoo!” You beg, gently waving your hand only for it to purr and rub its head on your knuckles.

“Could you confine your furry friend to your chambers for the night?” Sansa asks innocently, inching towards the edge of the bed.

She gets a well deserved glare from the beast in cat’s skin.

You sigh with a smile, “Perhaps that’s best.”

• Somehow it finds its way back into the room and pounces on the both of you while you sleep, jerking you awake as it bounds off to hide again

♡ Daenerys Targaryen ♡

• You bowed before your queen whereas the beast would rudely dance between your legs defiantly. Dany swears it’s on purpose

• She has bite marks and small scratches on her hands constantly from trying to hold you

• She’d tried everything. Bathing, bribery with treats or catmint (which only seemed to worsen the treatment she received)

• Dragons loved her! Dragons were bigger, more powerful and yet this tiny black ball of fur terrified her!

• Worse? Her children adored the terror. Not one unfortunate snack attempt was made. You were in utter awe over Drogon napping with your cat!

• The only time it scurried off was when Daenerys would take you flying. She adored the way you tightly held onto her, no little beast to interrupt you both while up in the clouds

[madwomansapologist]

Daenerys + Mastermind

Taylor Swift Writing Challenge: Mastermind

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Daenerys Targaryen | #taylor swift writing challenge | AO3

synopsis: Daenerys had to confess something to you, a sin that she carried alone for to long, but little did she know it wouldn't surprise you.

warnings: none.

Your city was liberated by her. The chain breaker. The conqueror. The mother of dragons. She saved your people, and after it she stayed to rule them. Daenerys brought justice to masters and workers: for some it means justice, to some it means care. They called her Mhysa.

Your master died during the revolt. She agonized, suffered until her last failed breath, and bled into the expensive sheets. You watched it. You didn't kill her, the other slaves did, but you watched every second. You were loyal to Daenerys even before knowing her.

Daenerys didn't kick the workers out of her new castle. She employed them, with fair contracts. And as the old palace master's seamstress, Daenerys gave you new and fair contract. She wanted you to sew her clothes. And so you did.

At first, your only interactions were when you needed to take new measurements and test the size of the pieces. As she was trying a blue summer dress, her serious expression made you swallow. "How did you learn to sew?"

With a pin, you marked the places you should press. The first time you marked her clothes with Daenerys using it, you were shaking the whole time. So scared of hurting her. 'My mother taugh me, as her mother taugh her." You don't shake anymore.

Daenerys spoke again as you knelt down to measure the hem. You saw her curling her toes. "Would you teach me?"

You bit your lip. "It would be a honor."

From the very first moment Daenerys saw you, something burned inside her. A new flame took over her entire body. She's a dragon, and you lit a fire inside her.

She can remember. You paralised, watching your old master dying, enable to do anything but stare. There was some sense of relief on your face, but she saw your hands shaking. You remind her of herself.

Daenerys would lever let chance determinate her path. You see, all the wisest woman had to do it this way. Society says women were born as pawn in every lover's game, but now Daenerys knows the truth: women were born to plan.

So, yes, everything was a choice. To keep your job, to change your quarters, to make weekly tests, to have you teaching her sew. None of it was accidental. Every unassuming touch, every supper with the employees, every second you spent talking to her about dressmaking, working to your last master, your life before her.

Daenerys heard songs about love. They didn't do justice to you.

When you played her, it was Daenerys idea. When you kissed her, it was Daenerys idea. When you went to bed with her, it was Daenerys idea. When you loved her, it was Daenerys idea. When you cried, it was Daenerys idea. When you stayed by her side, it was Daenerys idea.

Daenerys is the wind in every free-flowing sails. And she's the liquor in your cocktail.

But deep down she knew this lie-truth wasn't going to last. That she couldn't plan without feeling guilty. What wouldn't you think when you found out about everything she's done? What would you think of her?

That wasn't the first time she planned everything around her, but it was the first time she felt the need to confess. It felt like a sin. Like something you wouldn't forgive.

"Love is always a story about how once upon a time, the planets and the fates and all the stars alligned" Daenerys laid the groundwork. "Two people end up in the same room at the same time."

You left the glass on the bedside table and crawled closer to her. Your silence was a plea for her to continue.

"But what if I told you none of it was accidental?" Daenerys held your hand. She needed your touch to continue. "And the first night that you saw... nothing was gonna stop me."

And Daenerys would keep talking. She really would. She had a whole speech. But Daenerys saw a wide smirk on your face. You knew the entire time.

"A love based on chance. Mathematical chaos", you didn't try to hide your smile. "It' seen like a boring story."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[targaryenimagines]

Twin Flames

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8,219

Summary: With your due date drawing nearer, you begin to wonder what sort of life you’re going to be bringing into the world; dealing with your constantly fluctuating emotions is easier than facing the thoughts that grace your mind during the midnight hours. You should have known it’d only be a matter of time before your dragon became aware.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, grief, self worth issues, allusions to sex, and descriptions of labor/childbirth (non-graphic).

Notes: This shifted around from what I had initially planned, but I can’t say that I’m upset with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you all! Thank you to @justyourwritter69 for the wonderful inspiration — it may not be exactly what you had been thinking of, but I hope you like it all the same!

Series Masterlist

Warm palms run up the sides of your heaving body — still coiled tightly from the last shockwaves of ecstasy passing through — pulling you ever closer, even as a light laugh is hidden in the crook of your neck, the large grin stretched across your wife’s lips being more than apparent when she nuzzles the sweaty expanse of skin.

“I have to admit,” Daenerys pants, pressing one last lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw, before pulling back to peer down at you: silvery-gold hair acting as a curtain, cutting off the rest of the world entirely. “You might be starting to wear me out, dearest one.”

You arch a brow, legs opening to allow for Daenerys to comfortably settle once more between them; the heat radiating from her back, when you stroke a gentle finger down the length of her spine, offering a sense of comfort that no quilt ever could. “I wasn’t aware that was a possibility,” you tease, a lightness to your tone that caused Daenerys’ own smile to grow that much more. “In fact, I believe it was you who kept me up all night in Meereen. Because, and I quote, you wanted to watch the sun set and rise while being inside of me.” A huff of laughter falls from your lips. “Where has that woman gone to?”

Violet eyes roll skyward, but the open fondness within her gaze, and the bone-deep adoration etched across her face, never wavers in the slightest. “She’s still here, ñuha perzys. Very much so.” As if to prove her point, Daenerys ruts softly against you; letting you feel the extent of the influence you had upon her body. “But I can’t do all of the things I wish to do to you. Not when you’re carrying such precious cargo.”

A brilliant grin stretches across your face at the reminder — even as one of Daenerys’ palms slides from its place on your hip to the growing swell of your abdomen.

Precious cargo, you muse, taking in the sight of your Khaleesi’s peaceful expression. Your twins.

It had come as quite a shock to you when you discovered that you could potentially be having twins from the Palace Healer; a wave of complex emotions crashing over you as Daenerys had puffed up at the thought. It’s a trait you couldn’t help but admire in your wife. You had only ever seen her truly shaken a few times in your long relationship, even when she was the young would-be conqueror trying to find her way in the world, she rarely ever allowed herself to fall.

So, while you were swept into the tide of varying emotions, Daenerys stood as a sturdy rock beside you, preening with pride and jubilation at the fact that she’d soon have two more children to love, to adore, to protect.

In a manner she wasn’t able to before. A thought that had caused a spike of pain to lance through your heart, squeezing at your lungs to stifle the air that your two children would never be able to breathe again; Viserion and Rhaegal were never far from your mind. The golden gleam of the sun hitting the Narrow Sea reminded you of the warmth within Viserion’s aureate gaze, the pristine white of your wedding dress reminiscent of his beautiful scales. Whereas the changing seasons, from the cold winter months to the tentative grasp of spring, brought with it the memory of Rhaegal’s emerald-hued wings stretched across you in a protective embrace, the rumbling of thunder on the horizon, as a summer storm rolled in, bringing back the resounding echoes of his fiery roar to the forefront of your memory.

You knew, deep within your heart, that as long as their memory lived on within you, within Daenerys, and the people that they had graced with their presence, they’d never be truly gone.

Even though you wanted nothing more than for them to be here: to see three shadows flying over King’s Landing, to hear their roars echo along with Drogon’s, to feel the warmth of their bond within your very soul.

Their absence, as your pregnancy delved into the final months, became more apparent with each passing moment. You wished, more than anything, that you could share the kindling of new life with your darling Prūmia and Bāne; knowing that Drogon, your Mīsio, would find comfort from them as well. Instead, he now carried the burden of being an elder brother completely alone.

What was once three, is now only one…

The dragon is supposed to have three heads, but what do you do when two have been ripped away?

If you couldn’t protect Viserion and Rhaegal, mystical beasts from the oldest tales of Westeros, descendants of the mighty creatures of Old Valyria, then how would you ever be able to do so for your twins?

How could you be a proper mother when you’ve already failed so greatly?

“Where have you gone in that beautiful head of yours?” The gentle question pulls you from your torrential thoughts, unfocused eyes snapping to look into a calming violet gaze. At the sight a small smile quirks Daenerys’ lips, but you can detect the worry glimmering just beneath the surface. “There you are.”

You muster up a small smile, knowing that it was lackluster by the way Daenerys' frown seems to grow. "Here I am," you joke. "I was just lost in my thoughts, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worried."

"I will always worry about you," Daenerys replies. "As long as my enemies walk this world, and something can cause harm to you, then I will continue to be worried. That's what you do for the people you love."

"Really?" Silken skin meets your fingertips as you gently trace a line from high cheekbones, down to a sharp jawline, to full lips, and back again. "I wasn't aware I ranked so highly on your list of priorities, Khaleesi."

Violet eyes narrow at the blatant teasing. "I don't have a list of priorities." You almost laugh at the petulant pout that overtakes your wife's face. "It's true, beloved."

"I don't think that's true, Daenerys." You begin to count on your fingers. "You have the Seven Kingdoms. You have your armies. You have the whole mess with the Stark's. You have--"

Soft lips do a great job at shutting you up, an expert tongue acting in a great supporting role to make you boneless beneath the commanding form of your wife, as nimble fingers curl through the strands of your still sex-mussed hair. "Nothing," she whispers hotly against your mouth, warm breath still mingling with your own. "Will ever be more important than you. The Iron Throne means nothing to me if I don't have you by my side while I rule. My armies mean nothing if I do not have you to defend. This right here?" Daenerys rubs her nose against your own, smoothing a hand down the swell of your belly. "Our family that you've blessed me with, our son that's been ravenously waiting for his little siblings, is all that I could ever want. Nothing will ever be more of a priority to me than my family."

You allow your Khaleesi to hold you close for a moment, at peace within her strong embrace, but soon the need to rile her up once more overtakes you. "All of those things you just mentioned are priorities to you?" Daenerys hums in agreement, having shifted over onto her back to allow you a better position to rest upon her chest, slender fingers now gently carding through your hair to untangle some of the strands. "Wouldn't you call that a list, Khaleesi?"

Daenerys' answering chuckle rumbles through her beneath your ear, her fingers never halting in their soothing motion, as she pulls you impossibly closer to her lithe form. "No, I wouldn't call it a list. A list makes it sound militaristic, cold, unfeeling, and that's the exact opposite of how I feel." She peers down at you through dark lashes, full lips quirked in adoration. "I call it the very reason for my next breath, the reason that my heart will continue beating, and the sole purpose that I'll never lose my fire to continue fighting for a better future."

Silence falls then — both being soothed by the company of the other; you by the steady beat of Dany's heart beneath your ear and Daenerys by the heat of your body curled against her own. You could even feel yourself beginning to fall asleep, something you're hoping will last till morning, before a need fills you once more. This time, instead of being one to tease your dragon, it's one to reaffirm that her adoration, her love, was more than reciprocated.

"You're everything to me, Dany," you sigh, nuzzling into warm skin. "I just want you to know how much you mean to me."

"And you, my dearest flame, are the big house with the red door and the lemon tree." Her arms tighten around you, her last words whispered against the crown of your head as you drift off into sleep. "I'm no longer lost when I look back. You helped me accept my past, embrace my present, and look forward to my future."

It’s only hours later, when your wife is nestled closely to you, a lithe arm wrapped around your abdomen in a protective embrace, that you finally give up on your battle to find sleep. You had hoped, as you had the many nights prior, that Daenerys would tire you out to the point that you could fall into dreamless sleep from sheer exhaustion; something that typically worked.

But no one, not even your dragon, could maintain that level of vigor at night coupled with being Queen of Westeros during the day; although she made a valiant effort, certainly better than anyone else could hope to accomplish.

Refraining from making too much noise, even if it was to just sigh, you slowly edge your way from underneath your dragon's arm — something that's a lot easier in theory, even if you had been doing it more and more recently as sleep continued to elude you — almost panicking when Daenerys tightened her hold, grumbling something against the nape of your neck, before she slackened once more.

Slipping from the bed, after ensuring that Daenerys had truly fallen back asleep, you carefully maneuver around the room, slipping on a discarded tunic that you vaguely recall Daenerys wearing upon entering your shared chambers after dinner — having quickly shed her clothing to take a much-needed bath after the arduous day.

Following your usual route, you find yourself standing on the overhanging balcony that let you see King's Landing in its entirety as well as the harbor twinkling softly in the night. It's on nights like this, when the moon is bright and the stars are twinkling, that you have the most trouble falling asleep. On stormy, or simply overcast, nights you didn't ache deep within your bones, but when the world unveiled itself in its natural state of beauty?

It's like having shards of glass travel down your throat every time you took a breath. Memories of nights underneath a different starry sky, in arid deserts and ancient cities, wherein Viserion and Rhaegal danced across the sky like they were trying to join the very stars themselves — always testing to see who could fly higher.

Looking up now, at the stars shining so brilliantly, you can't help but wonder if they were up there now? If they had finally made it in their pursuit to see who could make it to the top. You wonder if Viserion had saved a special spot for Rhaegal... You wonder if he was currently saving spots for you all...

Tears blur your vision, distorting the sky into a hazy blob of black and silver, and you hope, that wherever they may be now, that they were happy. That they were safe and loved in a way they always deserved to be treated.

Could they see you now?

Could they hear the way your heart cried out for them?

Did they know how much you missed them?

Did they know how much you love them still? How much you will always love them?

Did they know how much darker the world had become since their light was taken away?

"What are you doing out here, ñuha perzys?"

No, your mind cries out. Why tonight, of all nights, did she have to wake up?

"Beloved?"

You hesitated in turning to look at her, knowing that the moment you did you'd be caught, but the longer you waited, the longer you stalled, the more Daenerys would become agitated, her protective instincts flaring into life. There's no way for you to get out of this... Not without the conversation you've been desperately trying to avoid.

So, with a soft sigh, you turn to face the love of your life; being met with the adorably disgruntled form of Daenerys Targaryen: clad in only a rumpled robe that had been thrown across a vanity due to her haste to have you hours before.

"Dany."

Daenerys rarely had to ask you what was plaguing your mind when it became like this — her ability to read you like a book coming in handy — and, for a brief moment, you're glad that you won't have to explain it to her. Explain to her how much of a failure you felt like you were. How your fears of becoming a mother were amplified because you had failed so spectacularly before.

Violet eyes observe you for another moment, darkening with an untold emotion, before something seems to shift inside of her.

"Do you blame me?" The question is uttered softly, on a hesitant breath, that is the complete opposite of your veracious wife. "Do you?"

You shake your head. "Blame you for what, Dany?"

Please don't know, please don't know, please--

"Viserion and Rhaegal."

The mention of their names, coupled with the latent thoughts still swirling within the dark recesses of your mind, causes you to flinch, arms instinctively tightening around yourself in a protective hold. An action that Daenerys must have taken as a positive answer to her question; if the almost injured look that's now openly expressed across her beautiful face is anything to go by.

"We've had this discussion before, Daenerys," you murmur, not wishing to rehash harsh words and reopen still barely healed wounds. "I don't blame you for Viserion. Not anymore."

Daenerys winces at the reminder of what had occurred in Dragonstone all those moons ago. "But you did." It's not a question. There's no need for pleasant lies when in the face of your soulmate. "Who's to say that you don't again? I wouldn't blame you if you did. It was my fault to listen to my advisors instead of my instincts. It was my fault to agree to send Jon Snow beyond the Wall with Jorah. It was my decision to go after them completely alone. It was my own stupidity that led me to turn my back on everything that I learned, everything that I had become in order to get to where I am now." She steps closer to you, unshed tears causing violet eyes to shimmer like untouched amethysts in the argent light of the moon. "It was all because of me that Viserion was struck down in an icy hellscape. Where he was forced to become enslaved to that thing. It was because of me that our son, our youngest child, had his fire drowned by ice."

Your eyes shutter shut at the memories her words invoke. Flashes of icy blue eyes where there should have been gentle gold viciously cycle within your head as you try to forget the brokenly shattered form of your son that you had found after the Battle of Winterfell.

"Not to mention Rhaegal," Daenerys continues, angry spite, all of it directed at herself, hardening her tone. "If I had paid more attention, if I had kept him closer to me, if I had been more cognizant that Euron would have been lurking in the waters below, then he would still be with us. You wouldn't have had to watch as he fell from the sky, you wouldn't have been bathed red by specks of his blood, you wouldn't have had to use milk of the poppy or dreamwine in order to fall asleep because you had such bad nightmares. You wouldn't have suffered if it wasn't for me. Our children would still be alive if it wasn't for me."

Even if some of what she said held merit — others being beliefs you had held onto just to inflict pain onto her; not unlike the pain you had felt when dealing with the unending grief — you refused to let her drown within her pain, refuse to let Daenerys' light get snuffed out. Not when she had been your steady rock for so long, your guiding light to bring you home, the only reason you had been able to pull yourself from the dark abyss their deaths had caused.

"No," you rebuke, tone firm. "I don't blame you, Daenerys. The Night King killed Viserion. The Night King is the reason our beautiful boy was trapped in an unending purgatory instead of the peaceful death he deserved. Rhaegal—" Pausing, lips pressed into a thin line, you take a shuddering breath before pressing on. "We didn't see Euron's fleet either. We were all aware of the potential risks he posed, but none of us took the proper precautions. Rhaegal, what happened to him, and what occurred afterwards, wasn't solely on you, Dany. You were foolish, I won't pretend that you weren't, but you were trying to make too many people happy, trying so hard to be the ruler that they all wanted you to be, instead of being the queen you were always meant to be. You got lost, Dany, and while the price we paid was high, and I don't think the pain will ever fully disappear, I'm just happy you were able to find yourself in some manner in the end." You step closer to your darling dragon, pressing a reverent hand to a flushed cheek. "So, no, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, I don't blame you for the deaths of our children."

Daenerys simply stares at you for a moment, her gaze almost inscrutable, but you can see the light beginning to return, even as her lips downturn slightly. "Then why do you blame yourself?"

No answer is forthcoming even as a thousand more spring to mind.

How could I not be? I didn't speak up; I saw what was happening and didn't do anything. I wasn't the partner you deserved, Daenerys, not like the one you have been to me and, because of that, because I couldn't find it within myself to just fucking speak up, our sons were killed...

How could I not be responsible when I still remember the sounds of Viserion's distorted roar and Rhaegal's scream of agony?

How could I not be when I'm still haunted by their faces every damn day?

You know that you couldn't say any of those things — Daenerys would probably blow a fuse — but the look within your wife's gaze let you know that she wasn't going to let you off the hook quite yet.

"I don't know," you admit, shoulders slumping as you turn from her inquisitive stare. "I don't know. Are you happy?"

The warm presence of your wife settles before you, standing closer than she had since the entire discussion had begun. "Of course, I'm not happy. You're in pain." Slender fingers gently grasping your face to turn your head to look at her. "It's something I will never enjoy seeing, but I want you understand me when I say this." Daenerys' eyes sharpen, violet pools burning with an inner fire that bespoke of her bloodline. "You need to stop wondering what might have been. It's something I couldn't stop doing, something that I still struggle with on occasion, but it will only make it so that you miss what's happening now. Viserion and Rhaegal are gone, which is something that will never leave us, but to only carry the darkness around with us would be a disservice to the light they had brought into our lives. They're gone, but they'll never be forgotten, because we won't let that happen. So, please, don't blame yourself any longer for something you can't change. Not if you won't let me share that blame alongside you." She steps closer, always drawn like a moth to a flame when you're near. "I promised to protect you from everything when I took you as my wife, to love and hold you through any storm that may come, to weather any battle that'll mean you'll be okay. Even if that means contending with the beasts that lurk within your beautiful mind. I know it's hard, my beloved, but I can't stand not knowing when you're in pain. Not if there's something I can do about. So, please, don't shut me out even if you think you're protecting me by doing so."

You nod, heart twisting at her soulful plea. "I'll try."

Even if you don't know how you'll accomplish it...

"That's all I'll ever ask for."

There's a moment of silence — wherein only the world dares intertwine within the moment you were now sharing with your dragon — before Dany gently smiles at you, love and adoration etching themselves across her face in an open mural of her devotion towards you.

“Come back to bed.” Daenerys reaches out for you, her hands slightly chilled by the night air when your own slots perfectly in place. “You know how I hate the emptiness when you're not there.”

Fighting the urge to smile, you follow your wife back from the balcony into the spacious bedchamber you’ve made into your haven, and you're not surprised in the slightest when Daenerys flops down onto her back, arms wide open in a silent invitation for you to take your rightful place between them.

This time, when you fell into your dragon's embrace, the warmth of your bed surrounding you, though never standing a chance against the heat of your wife, you knew, in that moment, that you'd finally be able to sleep.

Even if it took a while for your mind to finally catch up with what your body needed.

You’re not sure when you had fallen asleep, but suddenly awakening, standing on a sunlit coast that was all too familiar, with the sound of sea birds and crashing waves surrounding you, gave you the impression that you had at some point.

Either that or you were finally going insane.

Turning in place, you take in the sights, the smells, and the sounds of a world that you hadn’t believed you’d ever return to; even if Essos was simply across the Narrow Sea, you don’t think you’d ever be able to see it the same way again. Not after everything that’s happened.

Still, even now, you couldn’t deny that the sight of the Great Pyramid, far off into the distance, didn’t elicit some bone-deep reaction within you. Memories of easier times flickering through your mind — even as the faces of the ones you lost threaten to overwhelm you — allowing for a small smile to stretch across your lips.

A smile that turns into a full blown grin the moment you crane your neck to look at the azure sky and see two familiar shapes circling overhead; Viserion and Rhaegal. Their wings beat rhythmically, creating a soft, soothing sound that echoes across the peaceful landscape as they begin to descend. The sight of them, at the ease in which they danced upon the wind, and around the other, brings a tug of longing to your heart; wishing, more than anything, that this wasn’t a dream. That you’d be able to see it when you awakened.

Landing with a soft thump, a small spray of golden sand showering over your feet, their massive forms tower over you, but you weren’t intimidated for a moment; not when they radiated an aura of warmth and familiarity.

Viserion approaches first, cream colored scales shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight, causing the golden accents to almost appear like flames, and nudges you gently with his snout, a gesture of recognition and affection. Pressing a hand to his cheek, almost crying at the feeling of his sun-soaked pebbled scales, you look into his gleaming golden eyes, a feeling of absolution settling over you as you realize that the icy blue wouldn’t be the last color you witnessed any longer.

Rhaegal, not to be outdone by his younger brother, soon approaches; emerald scales gleam like precious gems as the bronze hues brings with it the thought of your countless hours laying in a field watching him dip and dive in the wind. Tears, that had been gathering from the moment you saw your sons in the air, begin to fall down your cheeks, a sob being stifled in your throat, as you press your hands into both of their cheeks; wanting to be reassured that they were actually there. That they wouldn’t just vanish and leave you bereft once more.

“I miss you both so much,” you whisper, throat still tight from the efforts of keeping your sobs at bay. Their soft croons in response, large heads nuzzling closer to the warmth you provided, nearly being your undoing. “I’m sorry that I failed you. That I wasn’t able to protect you.”

They both let loose short rumbles in response; clearly not agreeing with your evaluation of your past deeds. Rhaegal nudges you with his head, forcing you to take a step back, as he and Viserion seem to have a silent conversation with the other. A sight that brings a small furrow to your brow, but you're not able to say, or do, anything before the world seems to tilt on its axis and everything blurs together. Your stomach lurching at the suddenness of solid ground, and a miasma of colors, as everything seems to settle once more.

Well... almost settled, you think, casting a quick glance to the world around you; noting, with a sinking feeling in your gut, that your sons were nowhere to be found, but that wasn't the only thing that had captured your attention.

Gone were the shrieking of the gulls, the warmth of the sand beneath your feet, the almost sweet scent upon the wind; now you stood at the precipice of a cliff you hadn’t been to since Daenerys had claimed King’s Landing — a place that’d forever haunt you.

Dragonstone…

The air is unusually still, carrying an otherworldly scent of sea salt and dragon fire. The sky above is a swirling canvas of deep purples and oranges, with stars twinkling faintly through the wisps of clouds; an almost dizzying shift from the golden sunlight, crystalline skies, and a warm ocean breeze.

Beneath your feet, waves crash against the rocks with an unparalleled intensity, sending sprays of foam into the air. You didn’t have to look behind you to know that the ancient castle was looming; towers reaching towards the sky as if to grasp what the owners had lost in the years since the dragons vanished.

Twin thumps, and rush of air that ruffles your hair, is all the warning you receive that your sons had arrived.

“Why are we here?”

You didn’t have the heart, or the strength of will, to ask all of the other questions plaguing your mind: Is this my punishment for failing you both? To be forever trapped in the place that I had last seen you? Happy. Whole. Together.

Viserion’s warm head bumps against your side, a small croon bubbling from deep within his throat; it was a sound he always used to make when he wished to go flying, or wanted you to scratch just a bit to the left, or simply because he wished for you attention, for your love.

You laugh wetly, fighting a losing battle in keeping your tears at bay. “I know you dragons are beasts that'll never be fully understood, but I’d like a straight answer at least once.”

None was forthcoming — not from Viserion, whose gentle gaze never wavered from where he had curled his neck around your body, nor from Rhaegal, who had decided to rest on the opposite side, bracketing you within their warmth, keeping you from the cold, harsh wind of the surf — but, in that moment, you realized all you needed to know.

It's a realization that barely registered before Viserion confirms it for you, pressing a warm snout against the clothed area of your abdomen — a place that had once been flat, now round with the promise of new life — and you feel your twins instantly react to his presence. A fact that causes Viserion to snort happily and for Rhaegal to finally raise his head to nuzzle closer; a position that you had been in numerous times before, wedged between your youngest boys while Drogon was off with Daenerys. The bittersweet twang that this moment causes makes you want to never leave, to never get up from the warmth that they had always provided.

Knowing, that when you woke up, you'd be without them once more.

Memories of the last time you had been on this cliff, watching the sun cast a miasma of colors across the Westerosi sky, as Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers worked on the sands far below, assault you in a vicious attack; echoes of Viserion's playful chortling as Rhaegal snarled in response to his brother's continued insistence to steal some of his food. A squabble the two had grown accustomed to having — one you had grown used to overseeing — that never escalated past the first few nips; wherein you'd finally step in and give Viserion the rest of whatever you had on hand.

You remember, with sharp clarity, the way the sun had cast an almost angelic aura within Viserion's kind eyes and the way in which it brought out the darker green hues within Rhaegal's hide.

You remember the serenity you had felt watching Drogon dip and weave across the bay, leaning up against Viserion's warm side with Rhaegal's large head nestled close to your lap.

You remember the sounds of raised voices, that you had previously ignored when they graced your ears through the whistling wind, growing closer; Tyrion's exasperation and Daenerys' calm nonchalance finally keying you into the severity of what was occurring.

You remember your own objections being raised when Daenerys had told you her plan — worry and fear nearly choking you. For her. For your children. For what it could mean for her men if something were to happen. For the future that you weren't ready to live without her in.

You remember the gentle kiss and promise that she had bestowed on you before mounting Drogon: "I will be back soon. You'll be cuddled up with our children and me before you know it."

You remember the warmth of Viserion's cheek as you caressed his pebbled scales, the way your hair blew back when Rhaegal huffed as you leant to kiss his nose, and the amused look within Drogon's crimson gaze when you scratched under his chin.

You remember the heavy feeling in your chest nearly crushing you as you watched all three, along with your Khaleesi, disappear into the horizon.

And, above it all, you remember the look within violet eyes upon Daenerys' return, her pleading words when you looked out into the bay expecting to see three forms but instead saw only two, the distance that had grown between you as you dealt with your grief, the pain that kept you up at night, the regret that hung over you for not speaking up, and that same weight bearing down onto you.

You can't even bear to look out towards the open water now where Rhaegal had fallen, where his emerald scales had been stained forever crimson, and the sounds of his cries still haunted your dreams; your darling boy, your Bāne, always so hotheaded, disappearing beneath frothing water... Simply gone before you could even blink.

Both gone before you could...

The sudden realization of why you're here, why Viserion and Rhaegal were nestled so close to you, finally clicked into place and, with that realization, your tears finally cascaded down your cheeks.

"To say goodbye." You look down into their eyes, one set gold and the other bronze, as tears continue to fall from your own. "That's why I'm here. You're letting me say goodbye."

Twin rumbles meet your declaration, large heads pushing closer as they gently nuzzle your growing stomach. A sight that you would do anything to see in real life — knowing, with everything you had, that they would have made the best big brothers. Smoothing a hand down Rhaegal's jaw, and then shifting to Viserion, you lean closer and allow yourself to be fully wrapped in their embrace.

"I wish that I could go back and hold you both a bit longer. Give you a bit more of the fish I had stolen from the kitchen. Stayed a little bit longer snuggled into your side as I read. I wish that I could get all those little moments back and hold them tightly, so I'd never lose them, never lose you." Rhaegal nudges your shoulder, causing a watery chuckle to escape from your lips. "But, above anything, I wish that I had been able to show you both how much I loved you as fiercely, and as loyally, as you loved me, because I would have died to protect you. I would have gladly sacrificed myself so you both could live."

Shifting back, you look at your darling boys, never letting your hands stray too far from the warmth of their scales. "I want you to know how much I love you, how much I will always love you, and that you'll never be far from my heart. No matter how much time passes, I will never forget either of you. I will never forget the moments we made together and the love you freely gave me. I will never forget what you both have done for me." You lightly place a kiss on both of their snouts. "Goodbye, my darling boys, for the next time I see you, I won't be leaving your sides ever again."

Viserion and Rhaegal press closer, their wings stretching out further to eclipse the very sky above you; casting the diluted light into a fractured array of bronze and gold coloring. The sight bringing you peace as the beginnings of the world starts to blur at the edge of your vision.

And, even as everything fades into grey around you — the twin gazes, one gold and the other bronze, act as a beacon of light to where you were meant to go.

Rain hammers against tall windows, accompanied by the occasional flash of lightning that illuminates the grand tapestries on the walls within the royal bedchamber; the air heavy with the scent of salt and sea, mingling with the sweet incense burned by the attending septas.

You don’t know what had caused you to feel the sudden urge to travel to Dragonstone, remnants of a hazy memory being your only clue; as you rarely left King’s Landing since the news of the impending heirs became public knowledge. Daenerys hadn’t been happy about the potential trip — the way in which she had grit her teeth almost made you believe she was about to spit fire — but something in your eyes must have given her the impression that you weren’t going to back down.

Her acceptance didn’t mean it was an easy trip — with Daenerys’ constant hovering, Drogon snapping at anyone that got too close, and Grey Worm almost stabbing three maids that had suddenly appeared to help you out of the days outfit, being the lightest of the events that had occurred — but the sight of the ancient castle, with its dark spires reaching out to seemingly conquer the sky itself, brought with it a wave of relief that nearly keeled you over; the pressure within your heart clicking into place, making everything right once more.

Everything had gone smoothly for the first five days of your spontaneous vacation, but things had almost imploded when Daenerys had been told, via a raven, her presence was needed in King’s Landing due to a few of the minor noble families stirring up trouble with the visiting dignitaries from Essos. You knew that your wife didn’t wish to leave you, not so late into your pregnancy, nor did your son, but escalating drama within King’s Landing — one Daenerys wanted you far away from — compelled her to shift from doting wife to Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

She had left the next morning, with a searing kiss pressed to your lips, arms wrapped tight around your form, and a whispered vow seemingly imprinted into your skin: “I will be back within the next two days, I swear it. Even if that means I have to kill every last person that would dare keep me from you.”

Which means it was only right that you’d go into labor on the end of the second day; a raging storm, the likes that hadn’t been seen since your darling wife had been born, crashing over Dragonstone.

“Daenerys still isn’t here?” You gasp, a strangled groan escaping you at the same time. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

Grey Worm stands by your side, his sharp features etched with concern. “No, Your Grace, but I know she’ll arrive soon. Even with this weather I’m certain the raven will have reached her by now. For the moment, until Her Majesty can be here, I implore you to focus on yourself.” His rough hand clutch yours, offering what little warmth and reassurance he can. “I’ll be by your side until then.”

The maester, with his wispy beard and trembling hands, no doubt aware of what would happen to him if something were to go wrong, moves between your legs, his voice steady despite the chaos outside. “Push now, gently,” he instructs, his soft tone a sharp contrast to the tempestuous night.

You follow his guidance, clutching at Grey Worm’s proffered hand, summoning every ounce of strength left within your body.

The ancient stones of Dragonstone seem to tremble in response to each clap of thunder, as if the very castle shared in your agony. Yet, amidst the roaring winds and pain — a single strike of clarity, not unlike the lightning streaking through the sky, hits you; a profound sense of determination racing through your haggard form, burrowing deep within your heart, to bring life into this world, despite the raging storm and the absence of your wife.

Gritting your teeth, an agonized cry tears itself from deep within your chest, as you push once more, only faintly hearing the guiding words of the maester.

And, just as another streak of lightning illuminated the sky, Daenerys stormed into the room, her presence commanding and urgent; violet eyes burning with residual fury at being held up, and silvery-gold hair slightly disheveled, betraying the haste in which she had arrived to Dragonstone.

Where she is, Drogon is sure to quickly follow, you think, warmth spreading through you at the sight of your wife and the knowledge your son was home. And, just as the thought crosses your mind, a familiar shadow casts itself over the room, thundering wing-beats being easily discernible from the crackling lightning. No matter how tired he may have been from his long journey, Drogon would stay outside until you brought the twins into this world; a thought that brings a wave of affection for your eldest crashing through you.

“I’m here,” Daenerys announced, voice strained in apology but her relief was palpable as she made her way to your side; taking the spot that Grey Worm had quickly vacated. Pressing a kiss to the hand clasped in hers, Daenerys brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your overheated forehead. “I’m sorry I’m late. I wanted nothing more than to be back by your side the moment I left it.”

You’re only able to offer her a strained smile in response, another wave of pain shooting through you as the maester continues guiding the process along.

Daenerys, easily taking note of your state, turns wild eyes to the gathered servants. “How is she? How far along are we?” The strained quality of her voice, coupled with the vice grip she has upon your hand, gives you an easy understanding of where your wife’s mind had went; to the night of her own birth in this very castle — a night where Daenerys Targaryen was borne but Rhaella Targaryen ceased to exist. “Has there been any issues?”

“No, Your Majesty.” A midwife helpfully supplies, her presence near the bed signifying that you’d hopefully bringing one of your twins into the world soon. “Everything has gone well. Her Majesty has been doing well. There’s no cause for alarm.”

Daenerys, while still stiff, seemed to accept the response, her attention swiftly falling to you solely. “I’m right here, my beloved. I’m not going anywhere.”

Time seems to stretch into an eternity — you’re barely able to discern Daenerys gentle hold, and soothing words, from the maester that was still acting as a guiding light — and the pain is almost stifling until, with one final push, the first of your twins enters the world.

Exhausted, yet elated at the same time, you watch, through bleary eyes, as a midwife quickly takes the babe into her arms to clean, only giving you the barest glimpse of a tiny form before disappearing into the swarm of moving bodies.

But, however much your body may rebel at the thought, the labor wasn’t over yet; another wave of pain crashing over you, ensured that you understood that fact. With every bit of strength you had left in your body, while sweat beaded your brow, and your wife stayed steadily by your side, you give one final push and feel as your second child comes into the world; the same process quickly taking place as the babe was swept away to be seen to.

Twin cries soon fill the chamber in a harmonious display of new life — cutting through the fog that had fallen over your mind — a sound that brings tears to your eyes and a lightness to your chest, as if a weight had suddenly been lifted that you hadn’t even realized was there.

“Boys! You’ve had two beautiful boys, Your Majesty!” A portly midwife bustles towards you, a delicately small form cradled against her clothed chest. “Perfectly healthy.”

Your son is soon placed on your chest, skin to skin, and he’s soon joined by his brother; both babes swaddled but giving you a perfect view to see their beautiful faces. Looking up at your dragon, you can’t help the tears that stream down your face when you notice her own glistening upon porcelain skin.

“Two handsome princes,” you murmur, gently tracing a line down a chubby cheek. “I can’t believe we’re mothers, Dany.” Your eyes meet the violet gaze of your wife, happiness shared between you like the love that has bonded you for years. “After all this time, I can’t believe that I’m actually here.”

“I never wish to be anywhere else,” Daenerys replies, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, smoothing a hand down your back. “I would do it all over again, go through all the pain and heart ache, if it meant that I could end up right back here with you, with our children.”

Angling your head, you huff out a light chuckle, taking note that Drogon had taken his leave to, no doubt, rest on the cliff side until he was allowed to meet his siblings in person; something you were excited to do, but your new position also allows you to get a better look at your Khaleesi for the first time; your brow furrowing in concern instantly.

“I thought I was supposed to be the only one covered in blood.” You tug at the crimson stained fabric of her ornate tunic. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m more than fine, dearest one,” Daenerys soothes, calmly smoothing a wild strand of hair back behind your ear. “I simply honored the promise I made to you upon my departure.”

Even if that means I have to kill every last person that would dare keep me from you.

Your eyes flutter shut, arms tightening ever-so-slightly around the twins. “Who did you kill, Dany?” Violet eyes, filled with open amusement, are the first thing you see when you collect yourself. “It wasn’t anyone that’d cause a war, is it?”

“As if any of the nobleman would dare test me,” she scoffs, clearly affronted at the mere insinuation. “I made it abundantly clear how foolish it’d be to keep me from arriving back at your side promptly, something that most of those imbeciles seemed to take as a challenge. A feat that became even more imbecilic when I had received the raven stating that you had gone into labor.”

“How many?”

“I don’t see why that would matter—”

“How many, Daenerys?” You interrupt, the sharpness within your gaze causing your wife to halt mid-sentence. “Don’t you dare lie to me either, I’ll find out sooner or later.”

Daenerys huffs. “A little over two dozen, I’d wager.” Her eyes roll skyward, as if she still couldn’t believe the audacity of the people who had stood between her and her family. “However, as I was saying, I don’t see why that would matter. I did tell them to not get in my way, especially since I was already in a horrid mood having to deal with their foolishness to begin with, not to mention leaving your side, I simply ran out of the patience that had already been in short supply.”

“I don’t even wish to imagine what you would have done if you had missed the birth of our sons.”

Your wife tilts her head. “I would have killed them all, of course. Keeping me from you is a sin upon itself, but keeping me away so you go through something like this alone? Wherein anything could have happened to you?” Daenerys shakes her head at the mere notion. “There wouldn’t be any mercy left in my heart; for there can never be any remnants if someone dares affect you due to their actions.”

Despite yourself, and still wanting to know the finer details about who exactly she had killed, and what sort of mess you could expect upon your return to King’s Landing, you couldn’t help the affection that courses through your veins; Daenerys, for everything that she was, and everything she used to be, had always loved you. More than you think you deserve, in all honesty, but the clear dedication she had for you was never more apparent than in this moment.

So, for her, for everything that she has done, and will continue to do, in the name for her love towards you, you decide to drop the conversation for the moment. This wasn’t a time to get into a petty squabble with your wife; not when your sons slumbered peacefully against your chest.

Daenerys, clearly on the same wave of thought, runs a slender finger across the wisps of silvery-gold hair peeking out from underneath the cloth of the twin closest to her. “What shall we call them, ñuha perzys?”

You pause, ruminating over the variety of choices; Old Valyrian was an obvious choice, something strong to showcase the roots that your sons now held to the ancient world, but what names stuck out the most?

Suddenly, as if hit by a bolt of lightning, you realize the only choice of what they could be.

“I have the perfect names in mind, Dany.” Whispers of a phantom dream wisp through your mind, echoing deep within your heart and soul, your smile turning soft as you gently stroke the soft cheeks of your twins. “If you’ll allow me the honor of bestowing them?”

Daenerys’ beautiful smile in return, violet eyes glassy with unshed tears, is all you needed to see to understand that she was more than willing to grant you whatever you wished.

“I think I’ve always known. It’s just something I haven’t been able to see until now.” You lean against your wife, nestled safely underneath her arm, forever seeking the warmth she so effortlessly provided, as you spoke to the room at large: the surrounding midwives, a wizened maester, various servants, and your most loyal guards, all standing at attention. “I’d like you all to meet Prince Rhaegon and Prince Viseryn of House Targaryen.”

And, if you allowed yourself to believe, to listen close enough, through the crashing of the waves and the rage of the wind, as well as the cheering of the people within the room, you could just make out the twin sounds of answering roars from across the Narrow Sea.

[axelsagewrites]

What They're Like in Bed

Includes: Margery, Sansa, Daenerys, and Yara (Asha in the books but more ppl kno her as Yara I think)

Warnings: mentions of (but not descriptions) of various kinks, subs, doms, degradation, praise kinks, thigh riding, and oral (that kinda thing) 18+

Word count: 905

Men's part here

Masterlist Here

Margaery

Margaery comes off as very in charge at first, which she is amazing at, but she can have a subby side as well. When she’s dominant she is a soft dom though. She loves to ride your face, telling you to behave or she’ll stop. She’ll sit you on her knees or over her lap, slowly staring to pleasure you and trail kisses on your neck. This girl loves neck kisses. Like obsessed.

She doesn’t do harsh punishments and instead will ban you from touching yourself, or worse her. She’ll make you watch her pleasure herself when you haven’t listened enough to earn it. When you do behave though she will shower you with praise. The praise can also be condescending in nature, saying ‘how good you are for a stupid slut’ or telling you ‘good job’ with a condescending tone. She wants to make you work for her praise.

When Margaery does allow her submissive side to show she loves to be overstimulated and if she trusts you then fully tied up. She could spend all day being tied up and edged just for the satisfaction of her release at the end. She loves when you grab her jaw or throat, even some light chocking, but she doesn’t tolerate degrading or spanking. At least not on her. You are a different story.

Sansa

Sansa was hesitant about having sex to start with, her trust always haven been broken in the past, so when you do start having sex you have to be very gentle. However, once she becomes comfortable things get amazing.

She’s defiantly a very shy sub who blushes when you make eye contact with her. She blushes like crazy when you praise her which is often because of her massive praise kink. She loves to be told how good she is, how sweet she tastes, and how perfect she is. The praise also helps her get out her shell. When she does is when she wants to experiment with things like temperature play with you dripping hot wax over her chest.

Her favourite thing is when you run her a bath, rubbing her shoulders, and kissing her neck, before joining her in it to truly help her relax. She defiantly loves more casual sex vibes. I’m talking laughing and giggling mixing through her moans, sleepy morning sex, lazy casual sex, making out on the bed as her hands wander your body.  Her absolute favourite thing though is when you go down on her. Sansa can be a bit of a pillow princess in this regard but she’s also a very caring partner so if you point it out, she will turn her attention on you.

Daenerys

Daenerys feels a need to be dominant with her partner due to her history and never feeling like she is treated seriously. She does love being dominant though and loves a partner who will sit at her feet, praising her and begging to touch her. She loves to deny you of her touch or your finish until she has heard sweet praise and begs fall from your lips.

Her favourite positions are definitely to do with riding though. She loves to ride your face or have you ride her. Sometimes she’ll have you ride her thigh, teasing how easy it was to turn you on. She loves when you worship her body and the trails of kisses you leave across it. She realises her subby side one time when you began to suck her nipples and she wanted nothing more than for you to keep going and to please you. Oh also she loves nipple play.

When she is submissive, she loves to please and be praised, being told how good she is and how she can earn her next reward and asking permission to touch you or to cum. While she’ll ask first, she will never beg. She doesn’t handle degradation or punishment well but she never brats enough to deserve it. She just wants to be taken care of and make sure that you reach your own peak in the process.

Yara

Yara is a dom who loves to tease. This girl will tease you from the moment the sun rises till it sets regardless of whether you’re in the bedroom or not. She loves to flirt with you in front of others. She loves watching you blush and stutter at her words however she also gets a kick out of the days that you flirt as boldly back. This causes her to step up her game, sometimes dragging you off to the nearest surface or wall to remind you that she was in charge.

If her partner were comfortable with her, she would love to try a bit of exhibitionism. Maybe not go all the way but the idea of someone watching her turn you into a moaning mess riled her up to no end. She also wouldn’t be against watching you with someone else, however only if and when she allowed it and she was very particular on who she would share you with. This was also the reason she loves threesomes.

She loves to have her partner ride her thigh, choking them as she does. She’s down to try a lot of different thing but she will tease you incessantly while doing so if not straight up degrade you if you allowed her. She’s very experimental.

A/N: I love the girls but why can't they have easier names lmao I keep auto correcting to Margery not Margaery.

[livingdreams97]

Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 5)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

Words: 3.839

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Masterlist

Daenerys POV

I stand on top of the wall, looking down at the lush, snowy forest on the wild side of the wall. I watch the beginning of the forest with hope, hope that a miracle will happen and Y/n will appear from the trees unharmed.

But with each passing minute, that hope disappears more and more in the icy breeze from the wall. And while the hope inside me diminishes, the guilt increases replacing that feeling full of positive possibilities.

I knew I shouldn't have let him come with me. I knew I shouldn't have been impressed and allowed him to fly over Viserion. There is only one person who deserves to be blamed and that is me.

The only thing left for me to do is thank Y/n for his sacrifice in putting himself at risk and saving one of my children. Because I don't know what would have happened if Viserion had suffered the same fate as Y/n.

Because not only would I have to mourn the possible loss of the one who was going to be my husband and the man with whom I was falling in love with. The most sensitive, affectionate, fun and bold man I have had the pleasure of meeting in recent weeks. But also the death of one of my children, the most sensitive and trusting of the three of them.

I watch my son fly over the area, squawking and crying for the loss of Y/n. I let out a sigh full of pain and sadness, knowing that if I were a dragon; I would be doing the same.

Jorah: We have to go, majesty.- I listen as my old friend and protector tells me.

Daenerys: A little more.- I ask looking at the beginning of the forest with the little hope that I have left.

I am not the most believing person, especially after everything I have lived and everything I have seen. But praying won't hurt me and hope is the last thing to lose.

So I pray to any god or entity that listens to me, to make Y/n come back to me and be healthy. That's all I ask.

I wait a few more minutes, seeing no change, and decide that I can no longer wait for a miracle. All hope within me disappears and I feel my eyes burn with reality.

The reality that Y/n is dead and I will never see him again.

I turn around, meeting Ser Jorah's sympathetic, sad gaze. I walk straight ahead, brushing past him and stopping when he doesn't follow me. I turn my head to look at him, when I hear a trumpet and Viserion's squawks.

I walk quickly back to the lookout, immediately seeing a horse walking towards the entrance of the wall and carrying someone.

My heart begins to beat wildly inside my chest, at the possibility and the hope that Y/n is on that horse.

I turn around again, walking quickly and almost running to get down from the top of the wall. Wanting to get to the ground as soon as possible and verify the person's identity.

As soon as I get to the courtyard of the black castle, I see how two people are lowered off the horse and a tear slides down my cheek without being able to avoid it. I feel tears of relief slide down my cheeks, when I recognize the clothes of both people and distinguish them as Jon and Y/n.

I run to the unconscious body of Y/n, who is being carried by some men and placed on a stretcher.

Davos: Hurry up, take them to the ship's cabins quickly.- He orders moving quickly along with the rest of the people.

I run after them, climbing onto the ship following the stretchers and feeling Jorah on my back at all times. They put Jon Snow into his cabin first, but I keep walking and follow Y/n's stretcher.

Once he is placed on the bed in his cabin, Jorah enters the room and helps the other two men undress him, while I watch from the doorway.

My worried gaze travels over every part of his body and every bit of skin that is exposed as they remove his hard and icy garments. I look carefully, trying to find signs of bruises or visible injuries. From my site, I can't see or appreciate anything.

But it's not until he's flipped over and his back is exposed that I see the real damage to his body.

His entire back is covered with a large bruise, of different shades and colors. Although I don't think it's the worst, but the wound that runs through his arm from the elbow to his shoulder.

A worrying blue wound, similar to when a part of the body begins to freeze and lose all blood supply. And the pale blue veins surrounding the wound are also worrisome.

Jorah: Your Majesty better come out for this.- He spots me, as they turn him around again and prepare to take off his pants.

Daenerys: I'll be in my cabin.- I nod in agreement. -Let me know when you have cleaned and cured him.- I order and leave the cabin closing the door behind my back.

I walk towards my cabin, keeping an impassive and serious face before the eyes. But as soon as my back hits the inside of my closed cabin door, I collapse to the floor, letting out the tears I've been holding back.

I cry thanking the gods for listening to me and bringing Y/n back. For giving me another chance with him and being able to do things right this second time. I cry with relief and happiness that Y/n has come back to me alive.

Because even if he is injured, wounds heal and only scars will remain in their place.

POV You

Before I even open my eyes, I can feel everything around me; including my body shake. I try to open my eyes, feeling my eyelids heavy and as if they are glued to not open.

As I try to open my eyes, I realize that I am face down and that my head is resting on something soft.

I open my eyes just a few inches, noticing the wooden wall in front of me, the dim lighting of the candles in the place and the pillow under my head.

I feel the warmth and softness that something on my back causes, while in my right arm I feel the opposite. I feel an intense cold in the area, the same cold I felt when the spear of the white walkers grazed my arm.

I am also aware of the pain in my arm, more specifically in the area between my elbow and shoulder.

I try to sit up, immediately regretting it as I feel a sharp pain in my back and let out a grunt of pain in response.

Daenerys: Hey don't move.- I hear the whisper of her voice near me in the room. -Your back is very bruised.- She whispers again and I feel how the warmth of her hand is placed on my forehead. -You're burning.- She comments with a hint of concern in her voice.

Y/n: What happened? - I ask confused, since my last memory is falling from Viserion and then an icy cold wrapping my body.

Daenerys: You fell from Viserion and I don't know how you ended up on a horse with Jon Snow heading for the wall.- I listen to how she answers me and I manage to open my eyes, finding myself with the silver-haired woman sitting next to me on the bed.

Y/n: And where are we? - I ask still confused with the whole situation.

Daenerys: On my ship.- She answers me with a slight smile and slightly reddened eyes. -We are on our way to King´s Landing, for the meeting with your mother about the truce and to ask for her help with the walkers.- She explains me better and I can only let out a sigh.

Y/n: Can you help me sit down.- I ask in a low voice, feeling uncomfortable with the position and with a slight discomfort in my neck.

Daenerys: Sure.- Nods in response. -But slowly, yes?-  She tells me with a serious tone and I nod in response.

I feel her place her hands gently under my armpits, trying her best to help me roll over and sit up. With some difficulty and some pain on my part, I manage to sit up on the bed.

In this position, I can see my surroundings much better and I can better appreciate Erys's condition.

Y/n: Are you okay? - I ask a little worried, seeing the dry marks of tears on her cheeks and understanding the reason for her red eyes, and a little watery.

Daenerys: It's me who should ask you that question.- She comments avoiding the question. -It is you who has fallen from the back of a dragon from a height of more than twenty meters and been submerged in icy water for who knows how long. – She comments with worry.

Y/n: I know.- I assure her with a slight nod of the head. -But clearly something has affected you and I'm worried about your condition.-  I assure her, stretching my hand towards hers and wrapping my cold hand with her warm one.

Daenerys: It's nothing.- She denies, downplaying it and fixing her gaze on the union of our hands.

Y/n: Of course it's something.- I say immediately. -It is clear that you have cried and nobody cries for nothing.- I defend my question and concern for her condition. -So I repeat again. Are you okay? - I ask again, leaving a small squeeze on her hand and feeling one in response.

Daenerys: Now yes.- She answers me in a whisper. -Only that I have been so afraid for you, you don't know how bad I felt when I saw that you weren't on Viserion's back, or how hurt and guilty I felt when I thought I had lost you.- She admits looking at me in the eyes and allowing me to see the pain behind her own.

Y/n: But now I'm here.- I assure her giving her a small smile.

Daenerys: But you weren't until recently.- She denies trying to hold back her tears. -I thought you were dead, that I had lost you and that my last chance to be happy had disappeared.- She whispers looking away, letting out the first tear and causing a painful shift inside me.

Y/n: Erys.- I whisper the affectionate name that I only use when we are alone. -Hey look at me.- I whisper pulling her hand a little, so that she feels closer and I can wipe the tears from her face with my hand. -I'm here now and I'm with you.- I assure her again.

Daenerys: I know, but I feel like it's a dream and that when I wake up you'll still be missing in the cold water.- she whispers looking at me with eyes full of pain and sadness.

Y/n: It's not a dream.- I say raising my right hand as best I can, feeling some pain when moving it and placing one of her silky silver hair behind her ear.

Daenerys: And how can I be sure of that? - She asks me with such vulnerability in her voice, that it's almost like a knife stabbing into the heart.

Y/n: How can I show you that it's not a dream?- I answer with another question, wanting to reassure her and free her from the pain she shows.

Daenerys: Kiss me.- she whispers looking at me with eyes full of supplication.

I widen my eyes surprised, since it is a request that I did not expect and for which I was not prepared. But I'm not going to deny that in the last few weeks something inside of me has been born, a pure feeling for the woman in front of my eyes that over time has evolved and become bigger and bigger.

When I agreed to marry her, I was doing it only for the greater good and because I believed it was the right thing to do. But over time, I became something more selfish and sentimental.

I wanted to marry her because I was beginning to love her and I wanted to be able to call her my wife. I wanted people to know that I was her husband and she was my wife, that we are together and that no one can come between us.

But i believed that feeling was not reciprocal. In my head I was the only one with feelings of the two and I thought that she did it only for the throne.

Although with her request to kiss her right now, I see her approaches, comments, acts and behavior around me with different eyes.

I realize how blind I've been these last few weeks and what an idiot I've been about her intentions towards me.

Daenerys: I'm sorry, it was stupid.- She apologizes immediately, separating her face from my hands and putting more distance between the two.

That is when I realize that I have been thinking for a long time and that I have sent her the wrong signal.

Y/n: No, Erys.- I deny immediately, leaning forward abruptly to prevent her from leaving and hurting my back and arm. –Ouch.-  i growl closing my eyes tightly.

Daenerys: Don't make any sudden movements.- She orders me quickly with concern, putting her hands on my bare shoulders and pushing me to sit up straight again.

Y/n: Well, don't run away.- I ask looking at her eyes and trying to connect them with mine.

Daenerys: I'm not running away.- She denies looking anywhere but my face.

Y/n: Then why aren't you even able to look me in the eyes.- I reproach placing both hands on her and grabbing them so that she doesn't move away.

Daenerys: Because I think I've bothered you enough and I don't want to bother you anymore.- She excuses herself and I can't help but smile at her misunderstanding.

Y/n: Look at me.- I ask her without removing the smile from my face and looking at her face carefully.

Daenerys: Why are you smiling? - she asks abruptly when she sees me, frowning and looking at me with a slight fire on her face.

Y/n: Because you don't bother me, you never would and you never will.- I assure her removing the smile and putting on a more serious face. -I haven't answered you, not because I don't want to kiss you or feel the same as you; but because your request has surprised me.- I clarify seeing how the fire in her eyes disappears and is replaced by a different brightness.

Daenerys: Do you feel the same? - asks between confused and excited.

Y/n: If feeling the same as you means that I love you and that I want to marry you to spend the rest of my life by your side, then yes; I feel the same.- I assure her with a smile and receiving a huge smile from her.

Daenerys: Do you love me? - she asks, having teary eyes again, but this time with happiness and placing her hands on my cheeks, causing my hands to fall to my sides.

Y/n: A lot.- I nod in response. -And you, do you love me?- I ask a little insecure.

Daenerys: As I have never come to love anyone.- admits immediately and with all the honesty in the world.

Y/n: So do you want me to kiss you or...?- I leave the question in the air, with a playful and amused tone.

Daenerys: I'm going to let you pass that because you're hurt.- she tells me seriously. -But yes, I still want you to kiss me.-  She whispers, looking straight into my eyes.

I place my left hand on her cheek, gently caressing her and feeling the warmth of her skin against my palm.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck and gently pull her towards me. I feel the heat of her repair crash into my face, feeling the anticipation and desire of her body with the rapidity of her breathing.

I stop torturing her, finishing bringing her closer to me and bringing our lips together in a slow kiss. With some effort, I move my right arm and place my hand on her waist to bring her body closer to mine.

Her hands go from my cheeks to the back of my neck, where she leaves small caresses and pampering on the spot.

We separated for a few seconds, staring into each other's eyes and rejoining our lips in a somewhat more needy kiss.

Daenerys ends up sitting on her side in my lap, running her hands through my medium length hair and pressing her chest completely against mine.

My left hand trails down her back, wrapping around her hip and leaving a grip in place as she bites my bottom lip.

From one moment to another, I feel a sharp stab in my right arm and I break away from the kiss because of the pain.

Daenerys: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - She apologizes with heavy breathing, since in an oversight her hand ended up on my bad arm and she left a grip on the place without realizing it.

Y/n: It's okay- I shake my head with my eyes closed and holding the affected area with my left hand.

Daenerys: I'm really sorry, I've gotten carried away and I've completely forgotten.- She apologizes again with obvious guilt in her voice.

Y/n: Erys is fine.- I try to assure her, opening hmy eyes and seeing her face contracted by worry and guilt.

Daenerys: The best thing would be to let you rest.- She assures me trying to get up from my lap, but I react quickly and gently hold her forearm with my good hand.

Y/n: Don't go.- I beg her not to go and less so now that I know she feels the same as me.

Daenerys: But you must rest.- She defends herself by sitting on my lap again. -We will arrive at Dragon Pit in a week and a half if everything goes well, so you have to be rested and strong for the meeting.- She tells me stroking my hair.

Y/n: Then rest with me.- I ask, looking straight into her eyes.

Daenerys: I don't want to hurt you again by accident.- she denies insecurely.

Y/n: You won't.- I deny with a smile. -And if you do, I'm sure it's because I deserve it in some way.- I say with a certain humor, trying to convince and reassure her.

Daenerys: Okay.- Nods after a few seconds. -But I have to go to my cabin first to get some of my things, you have to eat something and they have to heal your arm.- She tells me, leaving a quick kiss on my lips and getting up from my lap. -Besides that you have to put on clothes if you want me to sleep with you.- She comments with amusement.

Y/n: Clothes? - I ask confused, looking at my body and that's when I realize I'm not wearing anything.

I open my eyes in surprise, lifting the bison blanket from my lap and seeing that she's right, since I'm completely naked. I quickly cover myself up, feeling the blush creep up my neck to my cheeks and avoiding her gaze at all costs.

Daenerys: I think that talking while you're naked is already something usual. - she comments amused.

Y/n: Anyway.- I play it down a bit embarrassed.

Daenerys: I'll be back shortly.- She tells me walking towards the door and a doubt arises in my head.

Y/n: Wait.- I call seeing how he stops and turns to look at me. -How is Viserion? - I ask remembering the dragon.

Daenerys: He's perfectly.- She answers me with a wide smile. -Waiting for you to leave the cabin to see you and receive some kind of affection from you.- She tells me with a sweet smile.

Y/n: That's good.- I nod letting any kind of possible concern disappear from my body.

Daenerys: Yes it is.- She agrees with me, before giving me one last affectionate smile and walking out the door of my cabin.

I stay alone in the room, replaying the latest events of my life and feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

Because not only have I survived an unimaginable fall, but I have also survived drowning in freezing waters, hypothermia and one of the most wonderful women in the world has admitted to returning my feelings.

I smile with a little melancholy, when a light scent of almost imperceptible lilies is smelled next to me and I close my eyes enjoying the distinctive smell of Margaery.

Y/n: Thank you for putting her in my path.- I whisper in gratitude, knowing that Margaery put Daenerys in my path and that it is her way of taking care of me from heaven.

Within a few seconds, I feel a very subtle warmth on my forehead, and then the smell of lilies completely disappears.

Margaery Tyrell was my first love and I will always remember her with one of my best smiles. But Daenerys Targaryen is the love of my life and the woman I will be able to spend the rest of my life with.

Because after defeating the white walkers, we got married on the cliff of Dragonstone and with the people we both cherish the most as the only witnesses to our marriage. In addition to my wife's children, of course.

To fight and defeat my mother, ensuring that the casualties are not other people than some people from my mother's army and thus win the throne for my wife.

The woman who proclaims herself as the first Targaryen queen, with whom by some miracle of the gods I share two daughters and a son, in addition of the return of the dragons with our heirs.

Daenerys: What are you thinking about, love?- She asks me, pulling me out of my thoughts, when I feel her hug me around the waist from behind and I stop looking at the city where I grew up and where I live again since the day she sat on the iron throne.

Y/n: How lucky I am with my queen.- I answer turning around and grabbing her slightly wrinkled face in my hands.

Daenerys: Not as much as I am with my king.- She answers with a big smile, standing on her tiptoes and bringing our lips together in a meaningful kiss.

But even after little more than fifteen years of marriage, I feel that each kiss and each caress are the first. And I don't want that feeling to ever change.

THE END

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

The beat was fast and heavy, pounding through her veins. Your voice echoed above everything, soaring high and clear, a perfect match for the rough pulse of the drums. It made Daenerys want to dance and she guessed that was the point of it, seeing how many of her people were moving to it. But hearing it made you deeply happy and that made it worth it to her.

You had been a gift from one of Illyrio Mopatis when Viserys had married her off, one of the bound servants — a pretty term to hide the fact that you were a slave — that had been assigned to her care during her time in Illyrio’s manse. He had wanted her to have someone that would be a comfort to her, not thinking or not caring about the treatment that you would receive from the Dothraki. But you had endured it all and stuck by her side through everything. And that meant a lot to Dany.

For almost that reason alone, Dany made sure to have music. It had been one of the small comforts you could afford to give her, when there was nothing else to give, and you had explained before you had been taken to Pentos you’d been training to become a vocalist. You hadn’t forgotten any of your training and had gladly shown off your gift to soothe her mind. She had offered you a promise that when she had the power, you’d always have musicians to accompany you.

At the time, it had been as much of a dream as going back to live in the house with the red door. Now, she was Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains, and she could offer you more than simple musicians. But that was all that you had asked of her. Musicians and to be allowed to stay by her side.

It was a delight to her to hear you of course, but the look on your face the first time she brought a lutist was forever seared into her brain. The fact that an act so simple could produce such a joy…She’d sworn to herself that she’d do anything to keep that smile on your face. And if it was as simple as keeping a couple of musicians in her party as they moved towards Westeros and the Iron Throne…Well, that was one of the easiest things she’d ever done.

When you appeared in front of her, Dany gave you a sincere smile that turned confused when you continued to get closer. Slipping down to sit next to her, you pushed a cup of wine into her hand. “You need to have some fun, my lady. It’s a party thrown in your honor after all.”

“I am having fun,” Dany examined her new cup before she delicately took a sip. It was good but not one that she’d have again.

“Well you will!” You took the cup from her hand and set both cups on the table in front of you, before you grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

Dany stumbled only slightly when she finally got her feet under her. “What are you doing?”

“We’re dancing! Come on, Princess. Have some fun tonight,” you drew her into a fast paced dance she didn’t know the steps too but the laughs and smiles of everyone around were uncomplicated and shouted their joy to the world.

Dany guessed she could dance with her people for a little bit tonight.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Can we get a Daenerys x reader where r can shift into a wolf, and is like from the north? 

A Dragon In The North

Request: Can we get a Daenerys x reader where r can shift into a wolf, and is like from the north?

Hi! Thank you for the request! I’ve written a Stark!Reader before for other characters, but it’s so fitting for this that I’m gonna do it again, hope that’s alright. Reader isn’t technically a Stark, but was raised as one. Also, I made the reader a direwolf. 

This is only my second time writing for Daenerys, so I apologize if it’s a little rusty. Hopefully, this is what you were looking for. If not, let me know and I'm happy to alter this or write you something else. I hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think!

(Warnings: none? idk, mentions of the Night King, mentions of Catelyn being cruel to Jon, and mentions of the deaths in the Stark family, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You didn’t know how it happened. 

Nobody in Winterfell was sure exactly how you could do it, but you had been able to shift into a direwolf at will since you were a small child. 

You had no parents to explain to you the cause. You didn’t even know who your parents were. You had been left at the gates of Winterfell when you were four years old, in the dead of winter. You would have froze to death if a guard hadn’t found you, and brought you to Lord Stark. 

At the time, his and Lady Stark’s children only consisted of Robb and Jon. 

Ned asked around the families of Winterfell to see if anyone knew who you belonged to, but nobody had an answer And nobody wanted you, slightly afraid of your abilities. 

Sansa had not been born yet, and Catelyn had always wanted a daughter. With a little convincing from Ned, they took you in as their own. After all, the direwolf was the sigil of House Stark. It was only fitting. 

As House Stark grew, so did your relationship with its children. You got along well with the rest of the family, and they always treated you like a sister. For some of them, you were all they had ever known, it was only natural for them to think of you as such. For others, like Robb, he was too young to remember you as anything else but his sister, even if you weren’t in actuality. 

Despite the acceptance from your family, you were not given the name Stark like the other children, just as Jon wasn’t. Catelyn treated you as her own, more so than she ever treated Jon, but she never referred to you as a Stark.

You took on the name Snow, just as he did. 

It was no secret that you two were the closest amongst the Stark children. Even after the rest of them were born, you remained closest to Jon. 

As children, his favorite trick in the world was seeing you shift. 

You could remember the night he had finally awoken from his sickness when he was but a mere child, still too weak to stand. You stayed by his side the entire time. Catelyn had watched over his bed for days as well, praying to the Gods to keep him alive. She promised them that if they let him live, she would love him as her own, just as she did you. 

They granted her wish, and he lived. And she couldn’t fulfill her promise. 

The second he awoke, a hate filled her eyes like none you had ever seen. She didn’t say a word to him. She only patted your hand, unable to stop her hateful glare towards Jon as she left the room. 

Jon had nearly burst into tears, knowing the only Mother figure he had ever known had no real love for him. 

But you did. 

He was your brother, blood or not. And you refused to see him upset. You had immediately shifted, curling up into his side, nudging your snout into his ribs. 

It pulled a laugh from him, and he shooed you away from his side. 

“You shed way worse as a wolf than you do as a human, you know. You’re getting fur all over my bed.”

You shifted back, narrowing your eyes at him. “Your blanket is made of fur, idiot. It’s quite literally covered in it. And to think I felt bad for you. I was trying to cheer you up.”

He rolled his eyes at your dramatics. “I didn’t say you had to shift back. I was simply letting you know that you were getting fur on my bed.”

“And I am simply letting you know that I have literal claws. Would you like a demonstration on how to use them?”

Despite how often you teased him, you never let anyone else tease him, especially if it was for something as cliche as harassing him about his parentage. 

You never understood why people looked down on him for it and not you. Maybe it was because you were a Lady, and it was easier to be nice to you. Maybe it was because everyone knew you didn’t actually have any Stark blood in you, and so you weren’t technically a Stark or a Snow. 

You weren’t anything. 

That didn’t matter to you. Jon was your brother. And you weren’t afraid to show people that while he may only be half wolf, you were full blooded. Teeth, claws, and all. And you weren’t afraid to use them. 

—

Direwolves hadn’t been seen beyond the Wall in hundreds of years. They were thought to be extinct. 

That is, until one had shown up on the outskirts of Winterfell. She was dead, with five pups huddled into her side. 

Jon convinced Ned to let his children keep the direwolves. Five pups, one for each child. And of course, the sixth pup, the runt of the litter. 

He was given to Jon, and named Ghost, for his all white fur. 

You nearly smacked Jon when he complained to you about it. “Are you kidding? You have a literal direwolf, and you’re complaining about getting the runt of the litter? Have you forgotten that I am quite literally the only direwolf you or anyone in this castle has seen for hundreds of years?”

“He’s smaller than the rest, all white, with red eyes, Y/N. At least you look scary.”

That was true enough. In direwolf form, your coat was completely black, so dark that you looked like a shadow. You stood tall, much larger than any wolf you had ever seen. Your eyes shone a brilliant green, a color most unusual for a wolf. 

The green was all that physically connected you between your human form and your wolf form. In your human form, you easily passed as human. Except for your eyes. They shone that brilliant green all the time. 

You scoffed at his words. 

“A direwolf, Jon. You have a direwolf. I happen to think he’s very handsome,” you said, running a hand through the fur of the little pup in your lap. 

“I think he likes you better than me,” Jon mused, placing Ghost back in his lap. 

“Maybe because I don’t make fun of him directly to his face.”

—

Jon grew to love Ghost nearly as much as he loved you and his siblings. 

His previous words were the words of an immature boy, too young to appreciate what had been given to him. 

Ghost accompanied Jon to the Wall, to war, and everywhere in between and beyond. He was always by his side, loyal like no other. Over the years, he became one of the closest companions Jon had left. 

House Stark dissipated as the years went by, victim to the tragedies of conflict and war. 

By the time you met Danaerys Targaryen, half of your family and their direwolves were dead. 

Once Jon left for the Wall, and your sisters left for King’s Landing, you decided to travel as well. After all, you were a Snow. Bastard or not, your future didn’t matter as much to your House. So you left Winterfell. 

It was a decision you had come to regret. All of you came to regret leaving home. But how could you have known? 

One of the few perks of leaving was getting the chance to meet the Targaryen Queen you had heard so much about. 

In truth, you wanted to see a dragon in person for the first time. It had always been a dream of yours, ever since you learned the histories of Vhagar and her rider Visenya, a tale that was one of yours and Arya’s favorites. 

Your travels brought you to Meereen, a city that had recently been freed from slavery. Under the guise of an independent soldier, a rogue knight much like your sister Arya, or Brienne of Tarth, you came into Daenaerys’s services. You started as an envoy of Westeros, knowledgeable in both the Westerosi Houses, as well as the allies and enemies amongst the realm. You later joined her ranks as a soldier, and also an advisor, much like Missandei. 

You grew close to Danaerys, coming to love her as more than your Queen. She loved you back, at least as much as she could allow herself. 

In spite of this, you never told her about your true form. She knew vaguely of your childhood with the Starks, but only that you had been brought up with them. She knew nothing of your abilities. 

You considered telling her, when you heard word of Jon’s death. 

The news broke you, shattering you to your very core. Just as you thought you would never have a reason to return to the North again, you heard whispers that he was alive, back from the dead. 

You guarded your secret once more.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Daenerys. You did, with your life itself. But dragons and wolves amongst your families never got along, and you both knew this. The history between the Targaryens and the Starks was a rocky one, and neither one of you wanted to be the one to topple that tower. 

When you heard news of Sansa returning to Winterfell, having been married to Ramsay Bolton, you knew it was time to leave for good. 

You had to help her. 

Danaerys allowed you to go. She admired your loyalty, and she knew she would see you again one day. You promised to return to her when you could. The Iron Throne would be hers, if you had anything to say about it. 

The Lannisters responsible for decimating your family would be destroyed, if it was the last thing you ever did. 

—

By the time you made it back to the North, Sansa had already fled. You somehow made your way to the wall, reuniting with her and Jon. 

You fought with them in the Battle of the Bastards, far more useful to them in your wolf form. You were there when Jon was named King in the North, so happy for him it brought you to tears. He didn’t want it, you knew that. But your House was slowly reforming together, the North was beginning to accept you again, Stark or not. It was more than you could ever ask for. 

Jon and Sansa couldn’t quite believe you when you finally told them where you had been all that time. 

When you learned of the Night King and his army of the dead, it was you that had convinced Jon to go to Daenerys. You weren’t asking him or Sansa to bend the knee, you knew it was too much to ask of them after all they had been through. 

But you truly believed in Daenerys’s claim. She wanted to break the wheel, and you intended to do it with her. 

And you couldn’t very well do it if the army of the dead killed you all before she could back the throne. 

So it was decided. You needed dragon glass. Dragonstone, Daenerys’s familial seat, had tons and tons of it, waiting to be mined. You knew Jon wouldn’t be able to convince her to let the North mine it on his own, so you accompanied him. You knew she’d listen to you, and believe you, even if she had not seen the monsters for herself. 

—

When you arrived at Dragonstone, the Unsullied, Dothraki, and Tyrion Lannister greeted you on the shores. 

“It is good to see you, My Lady,” Tyrion said, warily looking between you and Jon. “Our Queen has missed you.”

“I was one of her best soldiers,” you replied, grinning over at Grey Worm, who was taking the Northmen’s weapons. “I’m sure my lack of presence was felt.”

Grey Worm smirked at your words, letting you keep your blades on you. “Was it? I did not notice.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, letting him and the rest of the Queensguard guide you across the long bridge perched in the clouds that let to the castle. 

“Get up to much while you were gone, then?” Jon asked you once he reached your side, humor evident in his voice. 

“Not much,” you shrugged your shoulders, grinning when he gave you an incredulous look. 

All of a sudden, Drogon broke through the clouds, letting out a shrill roar. 

Your brother and his men dived for the ground, shielding their heads with their hands. You remained standing, laughing at Jon’s reaction as he shakily stood, a look of shock and potential terror etched upon his face. You waited till Drogon disappeared over to the other side of the castle before you kept walking. 

“I forgot to warn you,” Tyrion called over his shoulder, grinning at the Northmen. “You never get used to it.”

Once inside, you followed behind Jon, Ser Davos, and the guards who accompanied you as everyone made their way to the Throne Room. Once you arrived, Jon stopped you before the guards pushed open the doors. 

“Wait here,” he ordered, and you reluctantly obeyed. “I am asking her to believe in quite a lot, all from a man she has never met. For all she knows, I am just like the men that tore apart her family.” 

“You’re not—“ You started, but he cut you off. 

“I know that. But she doesn’t. She’s never met me, she has no reason to believe that anything I say is true. But she has met you. I’m hoping you’re enough to sway her. If this doesn’t go how we need it to, I need you to be the solution. She trusts you, she’ll listen to you. She’ll be happy to see you. But we may need the wolf to persuade her. Wait here until I call you in. Please.” 

You sighed, but nodded. “Alright. I trust you. Be quick about it, then. I did actually miss her and am eager to see her, you know. I think you’re going to really like her, once you get to know her.”

Jon smiled at your words, happy to see you talk so highly of Daenerys. Love was not an easy thing to come by. He was glad you had known the feeling at least once in your lifetime. 

“I hope so. Now wait here.”

The guards guided him and Ser Davos in, shutting the door behind him.

—

After what seemed like forever, the door to the Throne room finally reopened. Jon stepped out, a grim look on his face. 

“Get in here.”

“It’s not going well, I take it?” You asked, suddenly beginning to worry.

“I fear I may have upset her.”

“Shocking,” you retorted. “You’ve always had such a way with words.”

Jon rolled his eyes, brushing past your comment. “That’s why you’re here. I need you to help me talk to her. She knows you’re kin to me, but that’s not enough. We have to give her a reason to trust us both, not just you. She needs to see we have nothing to hide, that our intentions are true. Our lives depend on her saying yes, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath. 

“Wolf it is, then.”

You quickly transformed, shrinking down to half Jon’s height. He gave you a nod, opening the door to the Throne Room, letting you in.

Daenerys stood from her throne, slowly making her way down the steps to stand in front of you both. Her guards followed her down, but she held a hand up, stopping them from continuing. She looked at you wide eyed, glancing between you and Jon. 

“You brought a wolf into my home? Have you gone mad?”

Jon shook his head, lightly correcting her. 

“A direwolf, actually. But no, Your Grace. I brought my sister.”

Slowly, you transformed next to him, coming to stand at Jon’s side once again. 

Daenerys let out a small gasp as you appeared before her, her eyes softening on your frame. The wolf was foreign to her. But she should have recognized those eyes. They were unmistakable. 

“Y/N?” She asked, wavering to approach you. 

“My Queen,” you said, bowing your head. 

It took a lot for the wolf in you to bend the knee. It was a constant struggle within yourself, making decisions with your mind and not just your heart. All your life, it was a challenge to get the two to align. The wolf was stubborn, unrelenting. 

But it kneeled for Daenerys Targaryen, rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and heir to the Iron Throne. You had no problem getting it to relent. 

And Daenerys understood that. 

She approached you with soft eyes, laying her hand on your cheek. “Y/N?”

You nodded, pressing your cheek into her palm. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured my brother would need some help convincing you to help us. And it just so happens that I already know the Queen he’s asking.” 

“How did you…how long have you—why didn’t you tell me?”

“I know. I know I should have. There’s just never been the right time to. I promise you, I was going to tell you. But then we got word of Sansa, and I left before I had the time to.”

You glanced over your shoulder to see Jon, warily looking between the two of you. You took a step back, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“I heard my brother was alive. I had to go see him, I had to fight.”

Daenerys’s eyes widened, and she took another step towards you. “I heard news about a direwolf in battle. Fighting for the King in the North. Not a white one, I already know of Ghost. But a black one, with bright green eyes.”

“Aye, that was her,” Jon said, finally piping in. “Y/N fought for us.”

“Then you believe his words?” She asked, turning to you. “An army of the dead. You’ve seen it?”

“I haven’t, Your Grace,” you admitted. “But I trust my brother with my life. And if he says he’s seen it, then it’s real. And we have to do something about it. Right now.”

Jon laid a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back. He gave you a look that said, be nice. This is our only shot. You relented, letting him speak.

“I am not asking you to believe me, Your Grace. But believe her. The dragon glass on Dragonstone can be mined in order to make weapons capable of fighting them. We’re asking that you let us mine it, if nothing else. We’ll be quick, I promise. We won’t stand in your way. And then we’ll be gone.”

“Let the King in the North mine dragon glass? What will my enemies think of me when they hear word of it?”

“They’ll think you’re smart to listen to a man who’s seen the North. The real North. They’re a fool if they think otherwise, and they’ll get what’s coming to them,” you said, giving her a look of pleading. 

“Please, Your Grace,” Jon asked. “I am not only doing this for the North. They named me King, but I did not ask for it. All I want is to keep my people safe.”

“It would be keeping you safe,” you added.

Daenerys raised a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Winter is coming. The dead will come after us all, not just my House. If you let us do this, you’re saving yourself and your people as well.”

It was quiet a moment. You could practically hear your own heart beating. Finally, she nodded.

“I will allow it. I’m not saying I believe you…but I don’t think you’re lying, either. Take what you must. The rest can be discussed later.”

You felt relief flood your chest, looking over at Jon to see he felt it as well. 

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he said, giving her a grateful nod.

She nodded in return, before turning to you. “Y/N? Come with me.”

With that, she turned for the hall at the back of the room. You gave Jon a look that said you’d be alright, and followed after her. She waved her guards away, leaving the two of you alone. You finally caught up to her around the corner, stifling a gasp when she threw her arms around your neck. 

“I should have known it was you. I’ve missed those eyes.”

You melted into her embrace, holding her tight. “I’ve missed you, Dany. I wish I could have returned sooner.”

“It seems you’ve kept yourself busy,” she mused, cupping your jaw once more.

“I supposed I have,” you said, leaning into her touch. “But I’ve come back to you…if you’ll have me.”

Her eyes softened on you, and you felt her swipe her thumb across your cheekbone. She leaned in, resting her forehead against hers. 

“Of course I’ll have you.”

—

You couldn’t have anticipated the events that occurred in the following weeks. 

Daenerys returned to the North with you, bringing her army and her dragons. When you approached Winterfell, Jon led the front on horseback. Daenerys followed close behind on horseback as well, except she had a black direwolf leading the way in front of her. 

The people of the North lined up to see you come in, eyes wide as the Dothraki and Unsullied marched through the gates. Screams of terror could be heard as the three dragons passed overhead. You wished you were able to laugh as a wolf, amused by their reaction. Tyrion was right. You never get used to it. 

As plans were made, the North slowly adjusted to a Targaryen Queen sleeping beneath their skies. After all, the skies were normally occupied by her in the day. 

One evening, you found her sitting in front of the fire in the empty meeting hall. 

“Cold, Your Grace?” You mused, knowing that the blood of the dragon runs hot. She barely mustered a laugh, making you frown. You sat opposite of her, taking her hand. 

“What is it?” 

“Your sister doesn’t like me,” she finally answered. 

You smiled at the thought of Sansa, squeezing her hand tight. “My sister doesn’t like anyone. The North don’t take too kindly to strangers. There’s too much history there. Do you need her to like you?”

“I don’t need to be liked to rule. But I would like to be respected.”

You nodded, pondering her words for a moment. 

“You’re a lot alike, you know. I think Sansa does respect you, and that bothers her. The last time a Targaryen and a Stark were in a room together, the Stark ended up dead. I think she’s struggling with the fact that you’ve made her look past that.”

Daenerys didn’t answer, making you frown. You continued. 

“She’s been through a lot, love. It’ll take time, both for her and for the North. But they’ll come to see you just as I see you. It didn’t take Jon long, did it? They’ll follow him, which means they’ll follow you, eventually. I promise.”

“And you follow me?” She asked, turning to you. The look of vulnerability in her eyes broke your heart.

“I’d follow you anywhere. You know I would.”

She smiled at your words, relaxing a bit. If she could get a direwolf to follow her, a creature of the true North, then the rest of the North would follow. Everything would be alright. 

“That’s enough for me,” she grinned, squeezing your hand tight. “You’re enough for me.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope this is what you were looking for, and I hope you enjoyed it!

[winter-soldier-101]

The Conquerers Daughter

Word count: 1008

Let me know if you would liked to be tagged.

Not my gif

“My beautiful little dragon you are specially sent from the gods themselves and I need you to know why we choose to be here on DragonStone” Aegon tells (Y/N) about his dream and his dagger.

(Y/N) loved both her brothers Aenys was nice and caring and always helped everyone but Maegor was cruel and selfish he only cared for himself and his mother.

(Y/N) stood next to Aenys and Maegor as their father died (Y/N) cried and held onto Aegon’s hand not wanting him to leave her and her brothers.

“Aenys 1 Targaryen was born in 7 ac to Aegon the conqueror and his sister wife Rhaenys Targaryen and Rhaenys became pregnant again with (Y/N) Targaryen she was born 9 ac but Rhaenys would not live to see her children grow she passed in 10 ac Aegon’s other sister wife birthed Aegon another son named Maegor 1 Targaryen who would forever be remembered as Maegor the cruel” (Y/N) tells Daenerys as (Y/N) hands her over to the wet nurse.

“Viserys you must protect your sister now and always” (Y/N) tells little Viserys as she tells the handmaiden and knights to keep both children safe and protected.

“Are you coming with us (Y/N)?” Viserys asks her with tears in his eyes.

“Not today but soon my dragon” (Y/N) tells Viserys as the handmaiden takes him and Daenerys (Y/N) watches as they sail away and (Y/N) takes baby Aegon to safety and gives him to an old friend to keep him safe and tell no one who he truly is.

(Y/N) steps up the stairs that remain of her ancestral home Valyria (Y/N) looks around and sees nothing but stone men and one withered tower as (Y/N) looks into the tower there say three stoned dragon eggs one as white as snow one dark as night and one blue and purple (Y/N) took the eggs and left the old ruins and hide away from everyone.

(Y/N) is woken up my screeching coming from the fire and sees two of the three dragons have hatched and (Y/N) let’s out a cry and the dragons crawl over to (Y/N) as she holds them and names them snow and shadow and keeps the blue and purple one in the fire hoping it will hatch soon.

16 years later

(Y/N) reads the letter and sees that Viserys is marrying Daenerys to some Dothraki warlord named Khal Drogo so (Y/N) sailed to Pentos to see Viserys and Daenerys.

Pentos

“Who is that woman IIIyrio?” Viserys asks.

“That’s (Y/N) Targaryen she is Aegon The Conquerors daughter some say she was a gift to Aegon from the gods she helped you and your sister escape those years ago before hiding herself” IIIyrio tells Viserys.

“My little Viserys you have grown into a handsome man. Where is your sister?” (Y/N) asks Viserys.

“She is over there sitting with her husband” Viserys tells you as he leads you over to her.

“Oh my little dragon you have grown into a beautiful woman” (Y/N) tells Daenyers as she makes her way over to her.

“Do I know you?” Daenerys asks (Y/N).

“You wouldn’t remember me I helped your mother deliver you and help you and your brother escape” (Y/N) tells Daenerys as she hugs her.

“What is this?” Daenerys asks (Y/N) looking down at the golden Targaryen ring.

“It was your mothers I held onto it so I could give it to you one day” (Y/N) tells her.

“Thank you” Daenerys says as she holds onto (Y/N).

“If you ever need me Daenerys write me and I will come” (Y/N) tells Daenerys and leaves shortly after.

The Kings Road

(Y/N) flys over the kings road ahead of Robert and his knights and family and stops them (Y/N) gets off her dragon and tells the knights she needs to talk to Robert.

Robert and Cersei and there children and Ned Stark and his daughters walk out and see (Y/N) and her two large dragons.

“Hello Robert it’s been so long since I’ve seen you” (Y/N) says looking at Robert.

“What is it you want (Y/N)?” Robert asks (Y/N).

“I want you to leave Daenerys and Viserys alone I know you have someone watching them and telling you everything it stops now or I’ll burn your children alive in front of you and I’ll let my dragons have you and your wife for dinner so think about it Robert because no one will protect you from me and my dragons and Ned you watch over your daughters carefully around these people and you Arya write to me if you ever feel you or your family is in danger” (Y/N) tells Arya giving her a paper with everything she needs to know to call for you as you walk away and get back on your dragons and fly away seeing the fear in all their eyes.

(Y/N) watches on as Aegon sails, becoming a great sailor (Y/N) goes over and calls for him.

“You have grown strong” (Y/N) tells him.

“(Y/N) I’ve missed you, what brings you here?” Aegon asks you while hugging you.

“I’ve come to give you this” (Y/N) says as she hands him the blue and purple egg.

“A dragon egg thank you” Aegon says as he looks at the egg closely.

“Keep it in the fire it must be with fire alway” (Y/N) tells him before leaving him alone on the dock.

Aegon smiles at the egg and looks up at the sky and smiles with tears in his eyes.

“I miss you mother and father and soon I’ll make the people who took you away from me pay” Aegon says as he makes way to his room and puts the egg on the fire and watches as it slowly heats up and cracks versus slowly.

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