#fandom: A song of ice and fire

[polyamships]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister/Ned Stark/Catelyn Tully Characters: Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Ned Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sedoretu Summary:

The six pairs of a marriage, and the marriage all together.

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

More medieval dyes for y'all!

[rhaenyraslaena]

do i update star crossed or start a new aemond x oc fic 🤔🤔

[motorway-south]

fire and blood is really the perfect text for the wiki warriors and i think thats why there are so many fans who act like theres no reason to care about any characters but died-in-childbirth blonde #3 or daeron the diva #16. like they don't want characters or interiority they want a bullet pointed list of things they can point at fed to them in an easily digestable way. not since the marauders fandom has a fan community so transparently used character names to project their ocs onto

[violetumbrellalover]

Victim of war Princess Rhaenys and her Balerion 🐈‍⬛

[readorsigh]

I die a little inside every time asoiaf fans don't know what colonialism is or use the word colonialism to describe every single military takeover or conquest that has ever happened.

[synchodai]

I get this impression that House of the Dragon doesn't get that "named" heirs aren't really the norm in Westeros. If it were that easy for someone to just give everything to their favorite child, Randall Tarly wouldn't have needed to force Sam to go to the Wall and Tywin could have simply chosen Cersei over Tyrion as heir of Casterly Rock.

If we look at the history Westeros borrows from, the concept of "naming" heirs wasn't really a thing in medieval England. Landed gentry didn't have direct say over the order of succession until the Statute of Wills in 1540. Before then, land and subsequent titles could only be inherited through agnatic primogeniture.

Agnatic primogeniture prioritized the living, eldest, trueborn son. Claims can only be passed on patrilineally. This means that a grandaughter can inherit a claim of her grandfather's titles through her father, but a grandson cannot be given the same through his mother. However, if his mother finally does have land and titles under her own name (not under her father's), only then does her son and other children enter the line of succession.

The reason it was like this was because it kept land and titles under one family. Daughters are less preferred because when they are married, they become part of their husband's family — meaning that any titles they receive will be inherited through a new line. This wouldn't be an ideal situation because it gives two families claims to the titles. The more claimants there are, the more unstable the hold the owner has.

In other words, agnatic primogeniture was practiced for stability. Because back in the day, titles weren't just property or land. They came with governorship over a people, so a stable and predictable transfer of titles was necessary to avoid civil conflicts and questions of legitimacy.

A landed lord or lady wasn't given the right to designate heirs for a few reasons:

Most of them were vassals who oversaw the land in the name of someone higher up. It technically isn't even theirs to give away (see: feudal land tenure).

The wishes of a human being are less predictable than having a determined line of succession based on birth order. What if he becomes incapable of declaring an heir either through illness or disability? What if he's captured and a bad actor forces him to name this person heir under threat of violence?

People died unexpectedly all time. This was before germ theory and modern medicine — child mortality was extremely high. With no refrigeration technology, a single poor harvest could mean dying from starvation. Bandits, cutthroats, and raiders were a constant threat. They could not afford to rely on a person choosing a different heir every time the old heir drops dead, because the landed lord/lady could die just as suddenly.

Even 21st century families stab each other in the back over who gets grandma's house — so imagine having an uncertain line of succession in the middle ages over a life-defining lordship and without a modern-day court system to mediate.

Going back to HotD, whenever Targaryens did go against the established line of succession, they could only have done it by consolidating the support of their vassals. Only royalty seemed to have the power to bend agnatic primogeniture, but even then they were beholden to it.

When Jaehaerys I ascended the throne over Aerea, it was mainly because there were those who saw Maegor the Cruel's act of disinheriting Jaehaerys as null and void. This restored Jaehaerys place in the line of succession above Aerea.

And when Rhaenys was passed over for Baelon, Jaehaerys had to convene his lords and offer compelling reasons as to why — her young age, her lack of an heir, her Velaryon last name, etc. It wasn't a given that just because she was a woman that she was ineligible. If he was doing it purely out of misogyny, he still had to legally justify his misogyny in order to strip away her rights.

Even after consolidating support, the book mentions Jaehaerys I and Viserys I's respective hold on the crown was still weakened. Even though their claims were backed by reasons cosigned by a powerful majority, they still had to ensure the security of their rule through other means. There were people who doubted their right to rule, and those people had to be placated with gifts (by Viserys) or intimidated into submission (by Jaehaerys).

So we come to Viserys I who never gave his vassals a reason why Rhaenyra should supercede his three sons other than, "I said so." Had he convened with his lords and maybe made the argument that a first marriage takes precendence over a second one, then maybe he could have set a new precedent and gathered support.

But no, he didn't. He relied on the power of his own words and the lords' personal oaths — oaths that he didn't exactly plan how he would enforce posthumously.

And the Realm did not choose to adopt a different succession law after Jaehaerys's designation of Baelon in 92 AC or the Council of Harrenhal choosing Viserys on 101 AC. If those two events did change anything, it was that now women were exempt from the line of succession for the crown and only the crown. It did not set the precedence that monarchs could freely choose heirs. It did not upend the whole system; it only made a tweak, as most lawful policy-changes do, by carving out at an exception. It was a committee, not a revolution.

Before and after the Dance, no other monarch, lord, or lady "declared" an heir that went against agnatic primogeniture, save for Dornish who have cognatic (equal-gender) primogeniture instead. Ramsay had to get rid of Roose Bolton's living trueborn son AND be legitimized by the crown in order to be recognized as heir (only a crowned monarch can legitimize baseborn children which is another world-building pillar a lot of people miss). Randall basically had to force Sam to abdicate because he wanted his younger brother to inherit instead. And of course, Tywin despite his intense hatred of Tyrion is forced to acknowledge him as his heir.

The rigidity of the line of succession is a major and constant source of conflict in the series, so it baffles me that people really thought that characters could just freely choose their heirs. That's why we have a civil war. It wasn't a misunderstanding. It's the expected consequences of someone carelessly going against a foundational tenent of the society they inhabit.

[targaryen-dynasty]

SEMPITERNAL. (5/5)

Dad!Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, breeding kink, slight praise kink, kinda medieval daddy kink (?), size kink, lactation kink, lactating, pregnancy, pregnant sex

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Precious Delights comes to an end with this. I‘m a bit sad, because I really started to love the series, but I think I've managed to end it in a good way. Thanks to everyone that joined me on this journey.

It was going to be a day of revelry. The construction of the Red Keep had been completed, and your husband found it fitting to throw a feast in celebration for those who had taken part in it. 

Taking on a fatherly aura the moment your twins took their first breaths, Maegor didn’t want the festivities to start without his precious family present, even though you were meant to depart for your chambers once they started to indulge themselves in bawdier things. 

“You have to sit still if you want Mama to finish the braid quickly,” you warned the little girl sitting in front of you, though there was no sharpness to your tone, knowing you could not expect your daughter to sit still for so long. She was just three summers old after all, and just as excited about the feast as everybody else. 

Your own flowing locks loosely cascaded down your back and shoulders, not combed and unbraided as you had been taking care of your children the whole morning, often taking their care into your own hands as they were a blessing from the Gods above. And, while Visenya was clad in a black dress that once belonged to you when you were around the same age, your swollen curves still were concealed by a white nightgown. 

The raspy chuckle you heard, as your little girl didn’t remain still long enough for you to finish the task properly, prompted you to turn your head towards your husband, sitting in a stool not too far away while the barber tended to his hair and neatly trimmed beard. 

You raised an eyebrow in innocent enquiry at the sound, which briefly changed into something different while your eyes flickered over his frame. He was dressed, but barely. His cloak, and most pieces of his wardrobe, still were draped over a chair across the room from where he sat. His torso was exposed from the waist up, covered only by the leather breeches he wore. 

Maegor had a grin on his lips – entirely different to the expression he usually wore around servants and maids. In the confines of your chambers, he often lowered his guard, not too concerned about what others thought was proper. But in the presence of other people, he was always focused on remaining harsh and cold, wanting to display his dominance and power. 

“Have you been at this all morning?” Maegor asked, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes trailed over your body just like yours had done before. A hint of nervousness filled your veins, and you scolded yourself internally for your thoughts to stray towards things you should not be thinking at that moment. 

Not bothering to hide the blush that covered your cheeks, you finally replied. “Yes, I started at first light, not long after you left. I was hoping to finish before sundown, but this little one…,” you emphasized the word, causing your daughter to glance over her shoulder, flashing her father a big smile, “... has other ideas.”

You continued to braid her hair, trying to stop the braid from becoming too tight whilst also keeping the little princess’ fidgeting at bay. The barber was done trimming Maegor’s beard at this point, packing his utensils and scurrying off at once. 

“You would think that at three she would be more disciplined,” you sighed, smiling softly at your daughter. “But she takes after you.” Briefly pressing your lips into a thin line, you wondered if you had overindulged yourself in the bantering the moment the words slipped past your lips, and if Maegor knew you were just joking. Partially, at least. 

Visenya was the spitting image of your husband in more ways than one. Not when it came to the looks, as she was taking after you in that, but her rambunctious spirit was most definitely one of the attributes she shared with him. Aerion, however, was a different story. His looks resembled Maegor’s more and more with each passing day, while he had inherited your gentle presence. 

As Maegor chuckled, your frayed nerves calmed again. “You might have been better off dressing yourself before attempting to braid her hair,” he jested. 

“And I thought you might have helped, instead of sitting there and making witty comments,” you replied, glancing at Maegor, and trying to disguise your slight frustration as playfulness, directing your husband to your current predicament. 

You knew you couldn’t expect the King to take care of his children, not on an important day like this, but you also knew that Maegor more often than not had deferred his duties in the past in order to bond with the twins. 

Not wanting to admit defeat, you continued to braid your daughter’s hair, fighting against her lack of patience, and trying to finish before she kicked the entire braid off her head. Eventually, you were successful, pulling the braid into a bun behind little Visenya’s head. 

Maegor rose from his seat, and walked over to where you sat behind your daughter. He focused his attention on her, admiring her and your work for a moment, a soft sigh escaping him as he scooped her up into his arms. 

You smiled at the sight, your heart swelling in your chest, more so as you watched the gentleness with which he handled her. In a feeble attempt, Visenya tried to escape his bear hug, grumbling slightly as he snuggled her head and smelt her hair. It was the same as whenever you did it, but something in your children’s scents was just too intoxicating. 

Tilting his head back, Visenya’s little hands grazed over his beard, seemingly enjoying the feeling of the coarse hairs under her fingers just as much as you did, before she placed them at the sides of his thick neck for stability. 

He smiled softly at your daughter, a smile that scarcely graced his features when looking at you. It was gentle and loving, and whenever his eyes met yours, his expression was tinted with desire and longing. 

“Does Mama not know that your Papa is a skilled swordsman, and not a hairdresser?” Maegor asked your daughter in a playful tone, swaying her in his arms and pressing his lips to her temple. She was giggling uncontrollably, barely comprehending what he said, clearly keening at his affection and attention. 

When the doors to your chambers opened, the wet nurse came in with a styled and dressed prince at her side. Getting Aerion ready had taken you one hour at most, and was far less complicated. 

Upon spotting his father carrying his sister in his strong arms, the boy all but barrelled towards him in jealousy. The wet nurse failed to pull him back, leaving him as he tugged on the leg of Maegor‘s leather breeches, demanding to be picked up as well. 

You used the opportunity and leaned past Maegor, trying to fix a stray strand of Aerion’s silver hair – but the excited boy didn't have any of it. 

“My my, look who is here,” Maegor said with a smile, kneeling down while carrying Visenya on his hip.

The boy hugged his father tightly, squeezing him with all the strength he could muster with his tiny arms, which left Maegor chuckling. You could not feel any greater joy than seeing the brute of a man, mostly known for his harshness, so soft and full of affection for his children. 

“I want up, Papa. I want up, now,” the boy demanded, wrapping his arms around Maegor’s neck. The sight was adorable, and you could see on your husband’s face just how much he basked in your children’s affection. 

“Up you say, mh?” Placing a hand under the boy’s bottom, your husband lifted him up with ease, carrying both children on his hips. 

You sighed, bringing a hand to your swollen belly as you planted your feet firmly on the ground, and slowly rose from your seat. It was evident Maegor had wanted to help you, to reach out to support you, but with both arms filled with your twins, he could merely offer you his forearm for you to hold onto. 

This pregnancy was not as woeful as your first one, truly a blessing from the Gods above. And your husband was more generous this time as well, allowing you to walk the gardens and the keep all by yourself, despite it taking you a bit longer to be with child again. The pregnancy in general was not that strenuous for your body, though your breasts and bump had swollen to ridiculous proportions already, and you barely exceeded the fifth moon. 

Approaching them, you brought both hands up to their cheeks, the pad of your thumbs brushing along their soft skin as they leaned into your touch. “That is enough, you two,” you hummed, smiling softly. “You must go with Erena now. We have guests arriving soon, and Mama is not ready yet. It would not do to keep our guests waiting.” 

The twins pouted, but with neither you nor Maegor being too lax with them, they knew there was no chance they could stay for any longer. You motioned for the wet nurse to approach, before you cupped your children’s faces one by one, and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. 

“Aye, you have heard your mama,” Maegor said, having your back. His eyes had taken over a half-lidded look as they were all but glued to your features, your lips mostly, watching you and admiring your motherly aura. 

He put both of them down, but not without ruffling your boy’s hair in a way that had you taking in a deep breath, trying to keep the anger of him destroying Aerion’s hairdo at bay. 

Clinging to the wet nurse's hands, they left the room at once, no doubt going to their chambers for her to read them a book. There were merely two servants around you at this point, stopping in their tracks as Maegor’s deep voice rang out. “Leave us,” he ordered sternly, his usual demeanor crawling back to the surface. 

It was the side of him your children were not meant to see, at least for now, and with Maegor’s paw coming to your swollen belly once you were alone, the softness returned. Cupping your bump gently, he looked down at it in awe.

“Are you ready for the feast?” you asked, smiling softly at him before your eyes trailed over the expanse of his bare chest. 

“I am, for as long as you’re by my side,” he said, his other hand trailing over the slight curve of your waist. Both his hands now rested where the swell was, feeling the gentle curve of your bump. When he spoke again, you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, his words making you chuckle. “But I fear the crowd will pay more attention to you than me.” 

Bringing your hands up to his face, you cupped it just like you had done with the twins before, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw. His eyes softened, fixing yours. “I can not wait for you to be with my fourth child,” he spoke with a mischievous grin. 

You raised a brow. “Oh, only if you will be the one carrying the babe,” you retorted, the tease in your voice and sparkle in your eyes hinting at something only he would understand. “I doubt this pregnancy will spare me from the terrible birthing pains, and I do not know whether I can endure it for a third time.”

Maegor sighed at your words, his hands running over your sides once more, before one moved to the back of your head, threading into your thick locks. Gently tugging your head back, he leaned down to press a kiss to your jaw. 

“Would you like me to try?” he chuckled against your skin, pulling back just enough for you to spot the smirk on his lips. His tone had taken on a huskier edge, one that always forced you to squeeze your thighs together. “The Gods will be on our side this time. There will be only one babe, I am sure.” 

Licking his lips, he kept his grip on your hair, and pulled your face towards his. You anticipated a kiss, but alas, he kept a few inches between your faces, your heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips. 

You tried to chase him for a kiss, but Maegor kept your head in place. “I hope you know the dangers of challenging a Targaryen man,” he teased. 

Oh, you did know. More than once had he proven that it was just not wise to challenge him. It was impossible for him to resist a good challenge, no matter how bold or brazen. Your late brother Aegon was the perfect example, and also the reason he and his dragon Quicksilver were slain by your uncle in the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. 

Slinging your arms around his thick neck, you kept your eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “I shall take my chances,” you replied, biting your bottom lip. 

That was the last bit that caused his resolve to crumble. Bowing his head forwards, he pressed his lips to yours fervently, void of any gentleness. Your hair was released, only for him to snake one arm around your waist and bring the other to your arse. Cupping it, it was easy for him to lift you up, holding your body to his in a cradle carry with your lips still connected. 

You pulled back from him to chuckle breathlessly. “We can’t… not now,” you laughed, bringing a hand to his bare chest as if you meant to stop him. “Our guests will soon arrive.”

But he was not having any of it. “Oh, is that so?” he taunted, slowly walking towards your marital bed, shrugging his shoulders when he came to a stop. “Let them, they can wait.”

You stared up at Maegor with wide eyes as he placed you down on the bed, one of your hands cupping your bump, while the other just rested on your chest, your full breasts hard and heavy. He stood at the side of the bed, and began to undo the laces in the front of his breeches. 

As much as you wanted to lock your gaze with his, your eyes always trailed down to where his fingers were fumbling with the laces, your breathing growing heavier and your mouth running dry. 

Maegor was the most handsome of all men, and his other skills were unparalleled. Even though his cock was the only one you had seen, you knew Maegor was very well endowed, and probably possessed one of the most beautiful cocks in Westeros.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged the skirts of your nightgown up as much as your bump allowed, and shimmied your way out of your smallclothes. Your swollen belly was obvious, but you hadn’t thought of it as so obtrusive. But your husband didn’t seem to mind, if anything, he was even more determined and motivated to have his way with you.

Maegor eyed you just as hungrily, and his jaw set as he noticed the slight glistening of your womanhood as you spread your legs. You were eager and ready to take him. 

Stripping the last of his clothes off, Maegor joined you in bed, making himself at home between your parted legs. Leaning over you, careful not to put any of his weight on your bump, he planted kisses to the side of your neck, trailing up to your lips. His large frame completely covered your significantly smaller one, making you feel protected and safe as your fingers entangled into his silver strands, tugging on them gently and keeping his lips locked on yours. 

His cock was hard, pressing snugly against your soaked womanhood, sure to coat the underside of it and the sac of his stones in your arousal. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against him, rutting your swollen folds against his hard member which prompted him to groan against your lips. 

“Be still, would you,” Maegor scolded, but his tone was void of any harshness. 

But you couldn’t. Not when your body craved to be filled by him so badly. And Maegor seemed to notice your despair. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at you. The pout on your lips had him smirking smugly. “You have teased me long enough,” you whimpered, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s what I deserve after this strenuous morning.”

Raising his brow, Maegor sighed – he was admitting his defeat. “I shall make it quick for you then.”

His hands roamed over your bump, the white silk allowing them to slide over it with ease. He then proceeded to lean to the side, fetching one of the pillows next to you and folding it in half. 

Maegor hooked one hand beneath your knee, and used that grip to lift your hips, slipping the pillow beneath them to slightly raise your body for him, and make your back arch in a way that was not uncomfortable. It caused your swollen breasts to spill from the low neckline of your nightgown, the white silk dampened and darkened by the droplets of milk that had oozed out of your hardened buds. 

“Let me take care of you, mama,” Maegor drawled, his dark blown eyes traveling over your frame. Despite most of your body still concealed by your nightgown, he couldn’t be any more attracted to and aroused by you than he was in that moment.  

Gripping the base of his cock, he used your arousal to tug on him once, twice, before aligning the tip with your throbbing entrance. He was completely focused and careful as he pushed inside, moving slow enough for you to feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag along your walls. 

“Gods be good,” you moaned, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out by him, bliss taking over your senses. 

Your husband remained upright, his hands on your knees as he started with a slow, deep grinding. Your smaller one found his and held onto him for stability and to feed your longing for his touch, your eyes never leaving his. You felt the familiar heat building in your belly quicker than usual, the coarse hair around his member grazing over your sensitive pearl every time he moved and fueling the pleasure you felt. 

“You truly were made for me,” he grunted, a large hand moving to splay over your bump, covering most of it. “The most beautiful woman in the realm, swollen with my seed and carrying my children.” With a blush covering your cheeks, you bit your bottom lip, stifling a wanton moan. 

Noticing the color on your cheeks, Maegor smirked, slightly increasing the pace of his hips, his cock hitting deep enough to drag over the spot that had you whining and whimpering. You were squeezing him so well, making it impossible for him to keep going for much longer – not that you had time to do so anyways. 

Your pearl throbbed with anticipation, and your cunt clenched and convulsed around his member, announcing your approaching peak and coaxing grunts and groans to escape his parted lips. 

You tipped your head back into the pillows, unraveling beneath him as you closed your eyes in bliss. 

“So good,” he groaned, reaching to rub your bump before trailing his hand up to your full breasts. “I shall fuck you full of my seed, and bed you until your womb runs dry.” You weren’t sure if it were his words, the thoughts accompanying them or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your brain went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you couldn't think straight and answer him. 

His big hand tugged the neckline of your nightgown down to the point it ripped at the seam, freeing your breasts from their confines. It could have been a growl or a groan rumbling in his chest – either way it sounded threatening and dangerous, lured out by the sight of your leaking breasts. Clamping one of your darkened buds between his calloused fingers, he squeezed it to force some more droplets of milk out of it, coating his fingers in it.

Bringing them up to his lips, he sucked them clean with a groan, only for him to pay equal attention to your other breast not long after. It was not much, but already helped enough to relieve some of the pressure and ease the fullness. 

You bit your bottom lip and started up at him with half-lidded eyes, a teasing grin on your lips. “Want to get your fill, papa?” you asked, feigned innocence weaving itself through your tone. 

Maegor panted heavily, his eyes glued to where his fingers were milking you. “You little minx,” his husky voice drawled, interrupted by strained breaths. He was close. “Later.”

The coil in your belly tightened each time his body rutted against your pearl in combination with his fingers on your breasts, and it eventually snapped and allowed your peak to wash over your body with a loud cry. Maegor watched you mesmerized, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered around his cock with relief etched onto your features. 

He seized the opportunity, and bowed his bull-like body forwards, placing one hand next to your frame to support his weight as he increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts. Your cunt melted around his hard member, sucking him in with each snap of his hips.

You couldn't deny the slight aching that started to blossom between your legs, growing more apparent with the repercussions of your peak slowly subsiding, but you knew Maegor was racing for completion at this point, his breathing ragged and his jaw set. 

“When this babe is born…,” he rambled, panting in between the words. Strands of his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, a sheen of sweat on his skin. “… I shall fuck another into you. I can not get enough of watching your body swell with my seed, making it clear to everyone that you are mine.”

“Y-Yes, Gods, please.” The flush on your cheeks grew hotter, matching the growing volume of your whimpers and moans. Suddenly, the thought of another babe growing inside of you didn’t seem too bad. 

It was with a final thrust of his hips that his body finally relented, his cock spending in a burst so strong Maegor stilled his movements. You felt him twitch and throb inside of you, spilling his seed and painting your walls as you milked him for every drop. 

The sight was divine. His muscular body crouched forwards slightly, blonde strands framing his chiseled features, beads of sweat highlighting his flexing muscles, and his jaw set tight enough you feared for his teeth. 

If you weren’t with his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit. 

Every muscle in his body was tensed, until he eventually collapsed into the vacant spot right next to you, careful not to put any weight on your swollen belly. His flaccid cock slipped out of you in the process, causing you to pout at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

But you were quickly distracted when you looked to the side, studying him carefully. The blissful smile on his lips sent heat straight through your veins again, reigniting the fire and longing for more. You traced your fingertips over his sharp cheekbones, while his hand had remained splayed over your bump in a protective manner. 

Moving to lie on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, mischievous thoughts filled your head, inspired the moment you glanced down at his thick cock. Teasing and arousing you was a weapon only Maegor possessed, and he wielded it so perfectly – intended or not. 

“Mh, our guests may have to wait a little longer,” you said, voice laced with desire. 

It was a bit troublesome for you to get up, but once you managed to do so, you moved to straddle your husband’s hips, his cock trapped between your soaked womanhood and his lower stomach.  

He watched you with an eyebrow raised, but made no move to stop you. You rutted your hips over his length, coating him in your mixed essences and coaxing him to full hardness again. 

Maegor propped himself up on his elbows, a groan leaving his lips, and brought his paws up to graze over your sides. He understood what you wanted, and was eager to give you just that. With unsurprising strength, he fisted the silk of your nightgown and tore it in half, exposing your whole body to him. 

You gasped, more because of the chill air hitting your hot skin than the shock of the sudden movements. 

Licking a flat stripe over the curve of your full breast before wrapping his lips around your hard bud, Maegor sucked on it a few times to swallow some of your milk. You moaned at the stimulation, tipping your head back as your cunt clenched around nothing. 

He pulled back with a string of saliva connecting his swollen lips and your skin, glancing up at you mischievously. And when he spoke, his voice was husky and strained, teasing you with a smug smirk on his lips. “I think they will understand.”

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme @valyrianglass

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui

[ladythornofrivia]

Aemond existing:

Me: no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, you could dracarys me like how you dracarys the Riverlands, or take me as a prize of war and i'd still ride you.

(Decided to make part 2)

[arte072]

In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree. There she knelt. Red leaves rustled. Red eyes peered inside her. The eyes of the gods. "Tell me what to do, you gods," she prayed. For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb. And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf. Gooseprickles rose on Arya's skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father's voice. "When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives," he said. "But there is no pack," she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. "I'm not even me now, I'm Nan." "You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you." "The wolf blood." Arya remembered now. "I'll be as strong as Robb. I said I would." She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee. It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside. I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth. - Arya X, ACoK

Arya is so rarely associated with faith and prayer in this fandom, yet when she prays to the Old Gods for guidance, they respond and restrengthen her sense of self. Arya of Winterfell! Daughter of the North! She is a direwolf and done with wooden teeth! ✨🤍🩶🐺✨

[daeneryseastar]

daenerys: has finally decided that negotiating with the masters is a lost cause and plans to bring fire and blood to them (because slavery has to end somehow) in her journey to dismantle a thousands upon thousands year old violent regime; which would result in freeing millions of innocent men, women, and children from the terrifying brutality they’ve been subjected to their entire lives.

antis: she’s choosing violence, this is foreshadowing for her burning king’s landing! or the water gardens! MAD KWEEN! she’s a targaryen! the targaryens are evil incest lizard people with superiority complexes! and daenerys is one 😱😱 (i’m so intelligent!) bad colonizer! dragons are nukes! what about the innocent slavers? did you know every time a targaryen is born THE GODS FLIP A COIN—

[arr1x]

An old drawing of Sansa Stark

I still can't understand how ANYONE can hate her, she's such a good character and totally deserved better. Im happy she at least got her happy ending.

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

More natural dyes! I honestly love stuff like this so much.

[silverflameataraxia]

Sansa and Jeyne are the only people to call Arya ugly.

Meanwhile Ned, Jon, Gendry, Lady Smallwood, and the kindly man have all commented on her beauty, but this fandom ignores it in favor of two middle-school-aged mean girls who have to put Arya down to feel good about themselves.

[paulyenvol6]

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 2)

Contains: Kissing, touching, inappropriate behaviour between niece and uncle, power imbalance

Wordcount: ~2.69k

Masterlist of this story

Obviously you would have wanted to spend the evening in your chambers.

You didn’t want to attend this feast, perhaps see Daemon once more with Rhaenyra and you didn’t want to put on a nice face for all the guests but you knew you couldn’t go hide again. Your father would be angry with you if you did.

Speaking of him, you were standing in the corner of the hall now and saw the King searching for someone. When his eyes met yours his face changed and he walked towards you.

"Daughter.", he spoke and you looked to the ground. "Look at me Vhaela." You painfully raised your gaze and saw your father watch you with raised eyebrows.

"What was that, Vhaela? Why didn’t you come with us to greet your uncle?"

"I’m sorry.", you whispered but your father shook his head. "You didn’t answer my question." "I was feeling unwell. I had a headache." Viserys took a deep breath. "Are you feeling better now?"

You quickly nodded and lowered your gaze again. There was a moment of silence and then your father caressed your arm and leaned down to you. "Vhaela…" You still didn’t look at him. "What is wrong? You don’t seem well."

Of course you knew that your father didn’t really believe you, perhaps he believed that you had a headache but he definitely knew that there was something else bothering you. "I don’t want to talk about it, please don’t make me.", you said, tears in your eyes.

"Did you fight with your sister?" Now you neither shook your head nor nodded. "Look, daughter, I know that your sister – " "No please, father. Please can we just not talk about it? I will be better if I simply forget it." Viserys sighed and straightened up again. "Fine. Alright, we will let it slide. For tonight."

You finally looked up to him. "Thank you." "But I want you to know that your sister loves you. Even if she sometimes can’t show it." You nodded but didn’t really agree with his words.

"And I love you also, daughter. Very much. You and your sister, you are the two most valuable things in the world to me." Now was the first time a soft smile appeared on your face and your father took your hand.

"I love you too, father." He returned the smile and then the conversation was over. The king walked away to talk to some council members while you were left alone.

You took a cup of lemonade from one of the servants and remained in your corner. It was a very common position for you, watching the feast from afar and observing the guests. You saw your sister dance with your cousins and several lords, saw her laugh and smile at the right times. And you saw the lords‘ reactions. They were thrilled by the lovely Princess and like so many times before in your life, you wished you were just a little bit more like your sister.

You were overwhelmed when you had to talk to one lord on an entire evening. You couldn’t make them laugh or smile and if they made a compliment it had been made out of good manners.

And you knew that your father knew about your lack of social intelligence by now as well. He had tried to encourage you to socialise with some lords in the past. Now that you were 16 years old you were of age and in the near future should be betrothed to an honorable lord. But ever since your father had saw you try to make conversation with multiple lords on your sister’s name day he hadn’t pushed you again.

You had actually appreciated his reaction because he didn’t make a big thing out of it. He had simply smiled at you softly and said that you two would find a good match for you. That if you won’t find a good match naturally, you could just go on a tour across the continent.

So at the moment you didn’t force yourself to make conversation with the guests. You had greeted some people and exchanged some words but mostly kept to yourself. Perhaps the people could sense that you didn’t feel very well because usually even though you weren’t good at socialising, a lot of people would still come up to talk to you. But now you had time to watch the ceiling, the other guests and let your thoughts flow.

Daemon had also attended the feast by now. Your father had said a few words to express his gratitude for his brother and from your corner you had seen your uncle talk to Rhaenyra. She was glowing, it was like she lightened up the room. There was this glistening in her eyes and you could see Daemon’s wide smile clearly.

You didn’t even bother to feel hurt. It was the way things worked. Rhaenyra was more charming and prettier than you and so she got the attention. But deep down you still felt miserable. You were happy that Daemon was back but you knew it would also be exhausting from now on to either watch your sister and uncle get along so well and try not to be sad that he wouldn’t grant you the same attention or fight for it.

It didn’t matter what you would choose, it would hurt you and tire you.

The minutes went by and the feast was now in full swing. People were dancing and the music was playing loudly. You were holding a cup of lemonade in your hand when you saw your uncle walking through the crowd in your direction. At first you thought he was looking for Rhaenyra or your father but then his gaze met yours and he approached you.

"Niece, I’ve been looking for you." "Sorry, I was…."

"You wanted to hide in this corner.", he smirked and leaned with one arm against the wall next to you. He held a cup of wine in his other hand and watched you smugly. "You look pretty.", he said and you looked up to him.

"Thank you.", you whispered and felt your face getting warm. "And you’re wearing the necklace I brought you." You nodded and now gave him a little smile. Daemon straightened up again and you looked at him curiously.

"May I have this next dance, little owl?" You felt your mood getting better at his words and your smile intensed while your insides already danced. "Yes."

Daemon offered you his arm and smirked while the two of you walked towards the middle of the room where the people were enjoying themselves to the music. Your uncle put his right hand on your waist while your left connected with his shoulder. His other hand held yours gently and you started moving to the music.

"Aōha kepa vestragon naejot emagon shijetra nyke" (Your father seems to have forgiven me.), Daemon suddenly said in High Valyrian.

Your uncle referred to a disagreement the King and Daemon had had a few weeks before he had left King’s Landing to fight at the Stepstones. Your uncle and his army of gold cloaks had messed around in the city and killed and hurt criminals. The King had been furious about the fact that Daemon had broken the law even though he obviously didn’t tolerate the criminals either. Daemon had argumented that he only had brought justice but your father had said that only because Daemon was his brother didn’t mean that there were different rules for him.

"Īles iā bōsa jēda.  Ziry's sepār biare bona ao māstan arlī." (It was a long time ago. He’s just happy about your safe return.), you spoke and Daemon shook his head.

"Aōha kepa iksis iā sȳz vala. Yn ziry shijetra tolī adhirikydho." (Your father is a kind man. But he forgives too quickly.) You frowned. "Skoro syt gaomagon ao daor kirimvogon zirȳla bona ziry daoriot ȳdragon hen ziry dombo?" (Shouldn’t you be grateful that he doesn’t speak of it anymore?)

"I am.", Daemon said. "But I don’t want his enemies to think that he’s weak." Your gaze wandered to your father who stood next to lord Corlys.

"He’s not. He just really wants you in his life." Daemon raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"He doesn’t like it if the two of you fight. Every time you do he’s afraid he’s gonna lose you. That you’ll run away and never come back. He’s not like this with everyone, he can be resentful but with you… He sees you as a bird who’s always by the open window, about to fly away. He does everything in his power to pull you back in. Even if he has to swallow his pride and forgive you anything."

You looked at your uncle again and saw him smirk. "What?", you asked. "You’re a good observer, little owl. You see things and understand them." You didn’t know how to react to his words and so just dropped your gaze to your feet.

"No.", Daemon spoke and reached out with the hand that had laid on your waist to lift up your chin. "You’re always doing this.", he said quietly and you looked right into his glistening eyes.

"You always look away or to your feet. I want you to look at me, little one." You gulped and forced yourself to look in your uncle’s eyes. You could feel your pulse in your veins and your face got even hotter.

Daemon seemed to have noticed that you were nervous because he slightly, just a little, soft touch, ran his thumb over your chin. Then he dropped his hand again and watched you intensely. "Come." Without waiting for a reaction he pulled you with him and the two of you left the dance area. You could see Rhaenyra in the corner of your eye looking at you but you couldn’t really focus on her at the moment.

Daemon guided you out of the hall and through the corridors of the Red Keep. The two of you were walking silencely until you found yourself in a dark corridor. You could still hear the music from the feast, so you weren’t too far away from the hall but you couldn’t see any guards or anyone else except Daemon who was now standing in front of you.

"What are we doing, uncle?", you whispered and you felt your hand slightly shake. He didn’t answer you immediately but moved a strand of hair out of your face. You watched him nervously and he chuckled at your tensed expression.

"Byka atroksia…" (Little owl), he whispered darkly and caressed your burning cheek. You could only stare up to him. You were frozen and weren’t able to say anything. Your heart was beating twice as fast as usually and you were glad that in the dark corridor Daemon couldn’t see the colour of your face.

"Such a pretty face you have...", he growled and moved his finger over your jaw until he reached your neck where he ran his fingers over your soft skin. Your breath was fastened and you could only look at his lips that were only a few centimeters away.

Daemon had moved closer to you and you could feel the wall against your back. "Daemon.", you said so quietly that he almost wasn’t able to hear it. Your uncle chuckled and now he connected his other hand, that wasn’t occupied with touching your neck with your waist. He moved even closer to you and slightly pressed you against the wall behind you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and you felt like you couldn’t get enough air.

"Daemon.", you said again, not knowing why you had said his name and it almost sounded like a whine. It drove Daemon mad and he tightened his grip on your waist. He then finally leaned down to kiss your lips. At first very gently because he just wanted to savour the softness of your lips, but then really quickly he wanted more of you. He pushed against your mouth and his tongue demanded entrance. You had never kissed anyone before and were quite overwhelmed with the action but it felt good so you opened your mouth for him.

Daemon moaned against your mouth satisfied and his tongue entered your mouth. You couldn’t help but let out a helpless whimper and moved your hands to pull at his shoulders to get some support. In the meantime, he had his right hand on your neck to press you closer to him while his left still tightly held your waist. It was messy, intense and you felt like in a fever dream. What was happening right now?

It felt like it wasn’t you who was doing this. It was wrong, obviously. You shouldn’t kiss someone before getting married and so you shouldn’t let him touch and kiss you like this right now. But it felt too good to stop him. His touch felt like fire warming your skin and you had started to feel a pulsating heat between your legs. You didn’t know what exactly that was but it started to be uncomfortable so you unconsciously tried to get rid of it by moving against your uncle’s leg that was pressing against your thigh. You only realised what you had done when Daemon chuckled against your mouth and followed your movement. He pushed his leg between your legs and you let out a surprised noise.

His mouth continued to explore yours and you just tried to keep up with everything and not sink into a cloud of overload. Then, suddenly Daemon’s mouth traveled away from your lips and kissed his way down to your neck. He left a trail of soft, wet kisses and you intuitively held on to his hair. His mouth found your collarbone and his lips sucked on your skin.

"Daemon.", you whined. "We shouldn’t do this." Your uncle stopped his tongue movement, raised his head and his gaze found yours again. His mouth changed to a smirk and he placed his hand on your cheek.

"We shouldn’t, yes. But I don’t care what we should or shouldn’t do." His mouth got close to your ear and he very quietly whispered: "And I have a strong feeling my precious little niece is a bit eager for more, isn’t she?" Daemon let go of your face and rested his hands on the wall to the right and left of your face.

You breathed uncontrollably and then leaned forwards to kiss him again. But he moved his face away before your lips could touch and simply laughed at your discontent expression. You tried again but he denied you once again. Now you were angry and confused and didn’t know what to do. Daemon just watched you with a cocky smile and for some reason it made you even angrier at this moment.

So you put your hands on his chest, pushed him away from you and attempted to leave. But your uncle didn’t let you, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back so you were trapped between his body and the wall. He got very close to your face and then slowly pressed his lips on yours. It was only very short this time and after a few seconds he backed away once again. You grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to pull him back to you but you didn’t have a chance to move his muscular body.

You felt tears in your eyes from your desperation but Daemon still didn’t give in. He just leaned down to you and kissed your cheek. Then he suddenly reached down and lifted your skirts. In a matter of seconds you could feel his hand on your naked thigh and you were pressed to the wall once again. Your uncle’s face was close to yours and he lightly brushed with his lips over your jaw.

"Have you ever touched yourself, little owl?" "Touched myself?", you asked, not knowing what he meant.

"Between your legs. On your most intimate parts. Until pleasure washes over you that feels like a hundred waves crashing."

[violetumbrellalover]

~ Jaehaera was a lonely child, prone to weeping and somewhat simpleminded, yet she had seemed content in her own chambers with her maids and ladies, her kittens and her dolls. ~

Fire and Blood

I’ve started a series of green queens and ladies illustrations

Queen Jaehaera Targaryen, Queen Alicent Hightower and Queen Helaena Targaryen