#house of black oc
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epicy0n · 2 years ago
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First design V. Most Recent
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What a difference a year makes (the new one was made today in my genocide class)
But, I need some help
I’m struggling with names
- Aquila Corvus Black
- Aquila Vulpecula Black
- Lyra Corvus Black
- Scorpia Aquila Black
- Europa Corvus Black
And many other name order variations
If anyone has any recommendations for a name for a Black Family OC PLEASE HELP ME. I’m mainly going for stars or constellations.
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descendinight · 2 months ago
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素描本 studies for Hēlēdhel
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vhaenaera · 2 months ago
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Lady Daenaera Targaryen
Rider of Veleys and Lady-wife to Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell
Lady Daenaera Targaryen was not a woman to go unnoticed. Her hair, a cascade of pale silver curls, fell to her back like woven clouds, a crown of her heritage of both House Targaryen and Velaryon. She was no wraith of a woman, but full in form, her curves lending grace to every opulent gown she adorned. Her skin, kissed by the sun, gleamed like burnished bronze even in the depths of winter, a striking contrast to the deep violet of her eyes, which shone with both warmth and mischief.
The bards likened her voice and temper to the ever-changing moods of Driftmark’s seas—soft as a summer breeze one moment, yet fierce as a storm-tossed gale the next. When she laughed, it was a melody to charm a court; when she was roused to anger, her words crashed like waves upon the rocks, unyielding and commanding.
Where she was humble vocally about her standing, it was not so much with her jewellery. Golds tended to favour her, rubies, opals, amethysts, and any gem that caught her eye she adorned upon herself in ringlets, necklaces, and countless other forms of accessories. The same was said for her wardrobe, with the sheer amount of clothing she hoarded Daenaera would be able to clothe every peasant in the North. Some even say there were more furs in her armoire than there were sheep in Winterfell.
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grimmbunniee · 10 months ago
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Not to sound like a bitch or anything but why is every HOTD oc the same person. Her name is always Aemma/Visenya Velaryon or some god awful made up Valaryian name. Her dad is never Laenor but instead ser harwin, Daemon, or sometimes Cristion coke. Her lover is always Aemond(Cregan stark is also in love with her too). Aemond ends up defecting to team black and your oc and him win the war. She also rides cannibal or has claimed more than one dragon(you’ll never be Daenerys Targaryen you can’t out do the doer).
(Don’t get me started on how some of y’all will write Rhaenrya as this god awful stereotypical boy mom. When Rhaenyra has always wanted a daughter would spoil the living daylights out of her little girl, no matter who the father was)
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wyvernest · 9 months ago
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! PREVIEW FOR COMING - SOON SERIES
UPDATE: POSTED PART1
cregan stark x targaryen f!reader
reader is Rhaenyra's eldest daughter and has a snow-white dragon.
slow burn, fluff & eventual smut, angst, follows the book events with slight deviations
>> Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.
let me know if you're interested and ill probably make a taglist <3
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bks-writing-adventures · 10 months ago
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Love? Match. (Aemond Targaryen X Stark! Reader)
This is for a request I got! If people like it, i'll do a part two <3
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“Delusional. She is absolutely delusional!” Aemond grumbled, mostly to himself as Vhagar landed on a mount of snow with a low grumble. His breath was turning to fog everytime it left his body, his nose and cheeks flushed from the icy cold. This was the worst type of cold in the world. No sun, no fluff to the snow, just bitter. His nose ached, and his body shivered as he slid down Vhagar’s wing. The great beast would not meet his eye, and he could tell that she was certainly not pleased with him right now.
“I know, I know,” He mumbled, reaching to rub the scales that covered her face. “I will be quick,” he said, but he didn’t think that to be true. The North was stubborn, it was cold, and it was the closest thing to The Seven Hells. With every step, he cursed beneath his breath. Perhaps he should’ve landed closer to Winterfell, but landing that close with a dragon would not be a good look. And while he did love to intimidate, it would do nothing but create enemies. Of course, there was always the option of burning the land, but that was not truly his style.
 When he finally caught a glimpse of the building, his eyes narrowed into slits, his lashes coated with snowflakes and his vision frosted 0ver. IF one were to cry, their tears would turn to ice on their face. He was surprised that the very saliva in his mouth had not hardened. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed his hands together to create a heat, hoping with every bone in his body that it would spread. He was told to aim for Cregan Stark. His mother believed it would be the best of ideas, since men could bond easier, and perhaps he could fish out some sympathy. He would have to get to them before the Blacks, or else they could plant whatever ideas they wanted, and it would grow out of his control. When he finally saw the first flashes of black hair, it was a miracle. 
“My Lady,” He called out quietly, taking a few steps closer. She was covered in a heavy cloak of animal skin, and her dark hair was twisted into small buns around her ears, like makeshirt earmuffs. Her face was red from the cold, and her eyes were big and endearing, almost like that of a cow about to be slaughtered. His eye lingered for a moment before he took the rest of her in, noting the metal jewelry around her neck and fingers. She wore several rings, each with a different stone, and he wondered what it would feel like to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “Are you a Stark?” He asked, despite knowing the answer. This would be difficult to play out. He wasn’t a man to stay away from violence, to use words over a sword. And it was hard to convince himself that this would work out, but he swallowed his doubts as he spoke. 
“Yes. You are a long way from home, are you not?” She asked. Her voice was quiet, but it had a certain power to it, her head tilting upward, almost as if challenging him. Her dark eyes looked him over, and a smile pulled at her mouth. He was glad for the cold now, because the redness of his face would hide his blush.
 “I am, My Lady. The West is in great need of help,” He spoke. She nodded, and she began to walk, not saying anything. It baffled him slightly, and he quickly started to follow her. Perhaps leather in the cold was not the best of ideas, because he grimaced every time it touched his skin. Fur would have been a much better choice.
 “And so I have heard,” She sighed, leading him further into the snow, until he could see smudges of people in the distance. “But what I fail to understand is how that is our problem,” She spoke, a brow raised. Ugh. Her voice was just so enticing, and he could feel his body warming up from how flustered she was making him. It was disgusting, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. 
“You understand that Targaryen’s do not back down from a fight. We will destroy each other, and we will destroy you, too. You must pick a side, there is simply right, and wrong,” He spoke, pausing in his steps as she walked along the ice. He was not nearly as graceful as her, and he moved with caution, trying not to go sliding into the mountains of snow. 
“And who is decide what is right from wrong? Because forgive me for my honesty, but I do not believe your brother has ever done a right thing in his life. The wind speaks, and we hear of his sins. We would never bend the knee to such a man,” She spoke, and he felt himself groan internally. Her words were.. Well, true. He had no interest in submitting to Aegon either. His ultimate goal was to get himself on the throne and hope that his elder brother would drink himself to his death. It was a terrible thing to think, but Aegon was a terrible man. Such a fate would only make sense. His life’s worst regret was helping Ser Criston into searching for the boy. He clearly didn’t want the weight of the crown on his head, and he knew nothing about anything. He could not tell his right from left, and he knew nothing of history or politics. 
“And I deserve to be punished for that?” He asked, looking down at her. She was a fair bit shorter than him, but just as muscular, if not more. She had broad shoulders for a lady. His Uncle Daemon had once said that a Northern woman was about as feminine as a beast, but… she was, well, she was pleasant on the eyes. 
“Do not twist my words,” She spoke. “Besides. The North has nothing to give to you. We are dying left and right. The winter is harsh, and the cold is taking limbs and lives. We cannot fight in your silly war,” She responded. He didnt’ say anything for a long moment, following her gaze out to the wall. It was haunting. The sky was dark, and it was impossible to tell night from day. He didn’t like it one bit, he could not imagine living here, or how they could survive at all. He wondered where the food came from, before he realized, it wasn’t coming from anywhere. They couldn’t grow food, and there was no warmth.
 “What if, in exchange for your loyalty, we provided food and safety to your land?” He asked. He could practically see the gears turning in her head, and he fought the urge to smirk. She definitely didn’t see that coming. “Ah, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” He asked softly, his voice tickling her ears. Her eyes were clouded with thoughts, and it took her a moment to respond.
 “I would like you to speak with my brother,” She spoke, leading him toward the building. The change from the cold to the heat was shocking and welcomed all at once. Itches grew across his body, and he could feel the snow in his hair melting down into water, making his white hair cling to his head. 
“How are we to know that you are not speaking just to speak? I could agree, and you could give nothing.” She spoke, leading him through the building. Her boots left wet footprints across the stone, and he took in a deep breath as he scratched at his neck. His clothes were sticking to his skin. This really was hell.
 “I am not one to back down on my word, My Lady.” He said quietly, drawing in a deep breath as she started climbing up the stairs. He had no idea how much time had passed, chewing the inside of his cheek. “That does not mean much to me, My Prince. I do not even know which one you are,” She said, making him chuckle.
 “Ah, so I see my fame does not spread this far,” He spoke, and his ego was a bit bruised. “I should have introduced myself. I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, My Lady.” He said, gently taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, his mouth lingering for a moment. Her skin was warm on his cold lips, and he looked at her hands curiously, reaching for her left. No wedding ring. Fascinating. 
“Ah, the infamous Kinslayer. I know you now,” She said. Her eyes showed nothing, and he squinted slightly. 
“As could be said for most of my family members. We are not known to be… agreeable,” He said softly. He wanted to know more about her, but she was hard to read. His hand was still wrapped around hers, tracing patterns along the veins beneath her skin. 
“Hm.” She hummed, saying nothing more as she held his hand, practically dragging him up the stairs like a dog. When she reached the top, she pushed open a door, a group of men sitting awkwardly, their heads whipping toward the sudden intrusion. “Brother,” She spoke, making a boy sigh. “We have an offer from the West,” She spoke, making the room go quiet. Aemond could tell that she was a mighty little thing, no one spoke a word against her. It was a bit of a culture shock, seeing the way that women were treated here compared to back home. At the small court, his mother hardly got a word in, and she’d have to use him and his brother as puppets.
 “An offer?” He asked, standing up. He was a big thing, as all Northern men seemed to be. He had a face that looked like it was carved in stone, permanently unimpressed. He was not nearly as beautiful as his sister, in Aemond’s opinion, at least. “This… boy claims that in exchange for our support and men in his stupid, meaningless-” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “In exchange for our support in the Western war, he will provide us with food and materials to last us the winter,” She spoke, brows raised. The two seemed to be communicating with their eyes, and Aemond could tell by the way that she stood that she was challenging him.
 “Sister, what of-” The man didn’t seem to know what to say. “We pledged our loyalty to the Targaryens long ago. But with them going against each other, either side is a fair pick. We may as well choose the side that will benefit us both,” She said, staring at an older man that was sitting in one of the chairs, a brow raised. After a moment, he got up, moving a few paces back so she could take the seat, crossing her legs. Cregan looked at Aemond, head tilting. He was intimidating in a way that was different from the Prince. While Aemond had a carved face and relied on his dark clothes and gaze, Cregan had a natural superiority to him. He was broad and calm, which was the worst. He didn’t show any displays of anger or distaste, he just nodded slowly. “
And is the Prince unwed?” He asked. Aemond’s heart thumped, and he straightened his back even more. This was not part of the plan. He just had to hope his mother would not be angry with him. Marriage was one of the greatest weapons at all. It could be used to bond and manipulate, and it was something that would be in the history books. It would combine their names and their value, and hopefully, give him more access to the other side of the Kingdoms. 
“He is not,” Aemond said in response. No one had really spoken directly to him, he felt like such an outsider. Cregan’s face broke into a smirk. 
“Well, sister. If we are taking all that we can..” He trailed off. It was weird. Aemond had never been spoken to in this way. It was both humbling and exhilarating. He wanted to argue and say that he never agreed to it.. But at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt.
 “And it would give us access to more weapons and money,” The Stark girl nodded in return. When Aemond came to the North, he did not expect to be leaving with a betrothed. But when two hours had passed, she was following him back to Vhagar, a quarter of her things packed into a bag on her back, her eyes narrowed as they walked. He was so awkward, not saying anything as they approached the giant beast that was Vhagar. He just hoped that the Lady Stark would not react negatively, or Vhagar might eat her. “Gīda, Vhagar. Sȳz va se riña.” He spoke, slowly stroking Vhagar’s snout. 
“I did not realize how big she was,” Lady Stark admitted after a moment. She did not look horrified, in fact, she seemed almost awestruck. Aemond smiled a little at her words. 
“The largest in the world. She is the greatest protector of Kings Landing at the moment, protecting us against our treasonous kin. My uncle has been our greatest threat, you would not like him very much,” He said quietly, taking her hand and leading her to Vhagar’s giant saddle. “Are you ready to fly?” He asked softly. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, and he was thrilled to feel her arms around him as they climbed onto the large dragon. 
“Is now a terrible time to mention that I am afraid of heights?” She asked softly as her arms went around his torso. Her arms were strong, maybe just as strong as his. 
“That it is,” He smiled, placing one of his hands over hers before they took off. To his delight, she did not scream, she just clenched her eyes shut nice and tight, and held him as they shared warmth. He knew that Vhagar could feel it, this odd feeling growing in his belly like a disease. It wasn’t love, it was.. Infatuation, perhaps. He held his lady as Vhagar’s wings steadied, rubbing her hand in slow, circular motions as she eventually fell asleep. He just hoped that she would not fall. The flight was long and covered the both in snowflakes, and he let out a breath of relief as the air grew heavy and humid once more. The air of the West tasted warm and almost oily on his tongue, the smell of mud and trees tickling his nose with familiarity. 
“Wake up, my beauty.” He mumbled softly, nudging the Stark as they made their descend back to the land, Vhagar’s mighty claws slicing into the dirt, sending a spray of dust across the field. She groaned softly, and she seemed to already be reacting to the change in weather, sneezing as she got off of the dragons back. There was not a moment for them to speak before his mother was rushing toward him, her face falling a bit when she saw the girl. Her mind was going to all the wrong places, praying that her son had not kidnapped the girl as ransom or something. 
“Mother,” He spoke, taking her arms as she approached. She was stressed constantly nowadays, and the death of his father had aged her ten years. Her brown eyes were tired, and her hair was disheveled, despite the constant conditioning treatments. 
“Aemond,” She said, her voice coming out sleepy and cautious as she eyed the dark haired lady. 
“Relax, mother. This is my betrothed,” He said softly, reaching over for her arm, slowly bringing the Stark closer as though trying to introduce two dogs, hoping they would make friends. 
“Your betrothed?” She asked softly. It was hard to tell if she was angry or simply shocked. But after a moment, a tight smile spread on her face. “And you did not think to ask? Or…” She trailed off, swallowing her words. 
“We do not have the luxury of taking things slow in war, mother. And with our marriage will come a bond between us and the North. They will fight with us if we give them the resources they need,” He said softly, and her brows scrunched. 
“And what resources would those be?” She asked, seeming rather irritated. 
“Food, clothes, safety. We need the soldiers to stay alive if we want them to fight for us. And Lady Stark has much knowledge, politically and socially,” The more he spoke, the more she seemed convinced, and after a moment of thinking, her gaze softened.
 “Very well, then.” She said, gazing back at Lady Stark. “We will get you a nice warm bath and some tea immediately. You can sleep in the guest chambers,” She spoke, slowly nodding. Some servants came to take Lady Stark’s bag, but she quickly waved them off. She did not like being separated from her belongings, and when the brunette was finally out of earshot, Alicent turned to her youngest son. “You cannot simply make decisions like that without warning,” She spoke. She didn’t know why she was angry.
It didn’t have much to do with the war at all, but rather, it was the feeling of losing her youngest child. He had remained unwed this long, and he was her best child. She would forever regret what she did to Aegon and Helaena, and she had prayed every night to The Maiden and The Mother for Aemond to get a love match. To find someone that could give him the care and understanding that she could never provide. And now he would be marrying a stranger. But at the very least, they were the same age. And Lady Stark seemed kind enough. 
“It is not a good idea to get married when the world is like this. If Daemon finds out..” She trailed off. She was very aware that Rhaenyra’s family was seeking revenge due to Aemond’s disgusting actions. And she would hate to see the Lady Stark be caught in the crossfire. “You will have no grand wedding. There will be no celebration. It will be private, and you will say nothing to anyone at the court. There are spies everywhere,” She warned, and anxiety burned in Aemond’s chest. He hadn’t thought about that, and he did not care to think about it anymore.
When he finally found himself in bed, he watched the ceiling as he desperately hunted for sleep. When it did not come, his mind wandered and his eyes shut as he thought about Lady Stark. Her arms around his torso, the feel of her head on his back, the way her breath hitched the higher they got, all those rings on her fingers- and how she would wear one from him soon, too. The more he thought, the more he wondered, and slowly, his feet touched the stone floor, and he crept to his door, slowly opening it. His guard stood outside, brows raised. 
“Going somewhere?” He asked. 
“Yes.” Aemond responded, slowly making his way down to the guest chambers. It was a walk of shame of sorts, having to walk past all the guards as they stood by his siblings and mothers chambers. They all gave him small nods, and he sighed, considering turning around. The servants would talk. The Knights would talk. It was a bad idea, but he was so close, and slowly, he knocked on the door of the guest chambers. When there was no answer, he was about to knock again, when the door suddenly whipped open. Lady Stark was staring at him, her skin still rosy and warm from her bath, her hair wet and combed out, slowly curling up again as it dried. Her ears had been covered previously, and he smiled as he saw her in full. She had such little ears, like a cute little mouse. He could almost laugh at the thought. 
“Can I help you?” She asked, arms crossed. He smiled at her feistiness, looking at her nightclothes. Her robe was comically large, and he made a small promise to himself that when the war was over, he would have some fine clothes made for her.
 “I cannot find sleep. I was hoping you would speak with me about our arrangement,” He said slowly. She looked suspicious, but nodded after some time, stepping aside to allow him into the room. The guest chambers were nothing special. A big bed with generic blankets, a washroom, a bathtub, a chamber pot, some towels, and a fire place. A dresser and a wardrobe, a bookshelf with only two volumes on it. It was dull, but she seemed to light it up.
 “My mother says that our marriage will be a quiet one. This is a dangerous family, you understand,” He said softly, following her mindlessly and heating up when she sat on her bed. She just looked so lovely like this, and he cleared his throat, averting his gaze. 
“I am well aware. When are the supplies going to the North?” She asked. She had her mind set, and her desires were clear. 
“Soon, my lady. We will marry tomorrow once the sun falls, and the day after that, I will bring the delivery myself,” He spoke. They were big promises, but he knew he could do it. When he was very young, he had an obsession with agriculture for some months. For his 14th name day, he had requested only books and seeds, and of course, a greenhouse. A greenhouse that was run by servants and farmers, and was full of plants and vegetables that were ready to go. Perhaps they could build a greenhouse in the North, and they could use mirrors and glass to direct the sun toward it. 
“Very good.” She says softly, shifting a little on the bed. “Are you going to stand there forever, or will you sit?” She asked, staring up at him. His eye widened, and he looked at the mattress. It was far softer than his own, and he could only imagine the back ache if he fell asleep on it. But he could not deny her, sitting a good foot or so away. 
“...I cannot imagine this is what you envisioned when you were a girl, dreaming of marriage,” He said quietly, making her let out a laugh. Not a soft giggle, but a full belly laugh, a soft wheeze escaping her. “You think young girls dream of marriage?” She asked, as though the idea was ridiculous. “Tell me, My Prince, have you ever spoken to a woman?” She asked him. The answer was of course, no, not really. He had interacted with his mother and sister, but outside of that.. Well, did the Septa count? Probably not. 
“Not often.” He admitted. She nodded, smiling a little as she reached out to touch his cheek.
 “Oh, I imagine you scare off the western ladies like the plague, with this little thing of yours,” She said, reaching for his eyepatch as he turned his head away. Yes, of course. That. 
“It is not my best feature,” He said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 
“Says who?” She asked, head tilted. He couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not. He grew hot at that, looking awkwardly at his hands.
 “Says most,” He spoke. He sounded pathetic. He hated what she was doing to him, but he couldn’t get enough. 
“Most people are not worth your time or mine. Now, I am tired, and I am looking forward to sleeping on this giant thing,” She sighs, flopping back on the bed, arms above her head and her legs parted like a starfish. 
“You enjoy it, my Lady. When the war ends.. I will get you the biggest bed the world has to offer,” He said softly, and after a moment of thinking about it, he finally reached out and touched her hair. It was slightly rough in his hands. It was not silky like his own, and it was much thicker, as though she had adapted to the cold air of the north. 
“You make a lot of promises. We will start with the marriage, then the supplies, and we will see where we end up,” She spoke, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. Gods. He felt like he was full of Milk of Poppy. Utterly euphoric. Now he understood why men loved brothels so much. He would pay an embarrassing amount to feel this way every day. 
“Sounds.. Sounds good,” He says, voice cracking a little. She smiled teasingly, gently pushing on his chest. 
“I will see you tomorrow, my Prince.” She spoke as he headed for the door, and he mumbled under his breath. 
“I will see you tomorrow, My Love.” He mumbled so softly that not even the strongest of ears could hear it. That night, he slept like an infant, dreaming of the days to come.
thank you to everyone who reads!! <3
-BK ♡
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sunshinepixels · 4 months ago
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Merry Christmas
some bonus shots that didn't fit aka night shots of the house, ig we can call it the night before christmas
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filmsmakkari · 6 months ago
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Part of Her World 𓇼
rhaenyra targaryen x mermaid! oc
Summary: A mermaid princess finds the only person who understands her in a princess from another world
Word count: 3.5k
CW: None!
A/N- I use a character name for this because it was easier for me to write but it can still be read as an x reader because that's what I had in mind writing it! I am seriously considering making this a series saurr let me know if you'd be interested!
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Above the thrashing, powerful waves of the deep blue sea, a ship headed by a golden dragon cut through the tides like a swordfish. 
Rhaenyra Targaryen's hair blew wildly around her face in wild silver waves as she overlooked the sea from the side of the great ship. She was in the midst of her betrothal tour- a humiliating ritual where she sailed from house to house and offered herself up like a piece of meat to the great lords.  The young princess desperately longed for freedom, and here, during these quiet moments, alone on her ship, she felt that she could get a mere taste of it. At night, when she was meant to be getting the proper amount of beauty rest for a royal princess, she would sneak out and watch the sailors in their evening merriment. Drinking and singing shanties. Life at sea gave them freedom. Total control over their lives and fates. No one was forcing them to dress up like dolls and present themselves to bidders. Rhaenyra truly longed for the same.
As she should, a light sprinkle began to drop from the air. Rhaenyra didn't acknowledge the way the raindrops glazed her face, wishing the sea would swallow her whole.
"You should go inside, princess," the profoundly irritating voice of Ser Criston Cole cut through the soft music of the rain, disrupting Rhaenyra's peace. "I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."
"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra said, exasperated. "I will not be washed away with the rain."
"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," Ser Criston tried to pull her to her chambers, but she shrugged him off.
"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston?" asked Rhaenyra. "Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."
"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."
"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.
"Princess—" a violent bump abruptly interrupted the white cloak. The knight and the princess both turned. In the distance, they could see a dark cloud highlighted with thunder and lightning.
The captain noticed at the same time. "Storm coming in fast, all hands on deck!" The first mate parroted the message, and the entire ship descended into chaos. Sailors rapidly climbed the mast, desperately cutting the lines, as the first mate rushed to the helm and furiously spun the wheel, attempting to guide the ship away.
"We need a lifeboat for the princess, immediately!" Cole shouted at the deckhands, pulling Rhaenyra by her arm. 
Rhaenyra watched as lightning struck the mast, and fire quickly spread across the deck. Her eyes widened at the catastrophe. Deckhands rapidly cut a lifeboat free, tossing it into the water for the young princess. 
"Hurry, your grace!" Cole attempted to shove Rhaenyra into the boat, but she would not go.
"No! The sailors and my ladies first!" She broke free and ran, shouting like a mad woman for all the men and her ladies in waiting to board the lifeboats themselves. The sailors didn't need to be told twice, and though they attempted to encourage her to join them, she refused, searching for every soul aboard to make sure they'd escape safely. 
"Madeline!" Rhaenyra shouted her lady's name. The small girl was curled up in a corner, holding Rhaenyra's little dog, Meria. 
"Princess!" Madeline yelled, relieved. 
"Come! Quickly come!" Rhaenyra grabbed Madeline and pulled her across the burning deck. Avoiding the masts as they crashed down and the canons as they rolled from side to side. Rhaenyra helped Madeline rise to the rail and jump, the dog still in hand. Rhaenyra watched as the pair hit the sea. The violent waves separated them. While Madeline was quickly pulled aboard a lifeboat, Myria lingered behind, desperately paddling to get to the boat. Rhaenyra panicked, but suddenly, it was like a gravitational force took hold of the dog and pulled her to safety. If it hadn't been a life or death situation, Rhaenrya would have pondered how it happened. However, given the circumstances, she quickly took it upon herself to climb onto the rail. But just as she was about to jump, the entire ship turned on its side, and she fell backward into the black sea.
All she saw was fire. Her lungs filled with water as the sigil of the mighty House Targaryen burned. A flash of purple. And then it all went dark.
˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚
Children of the sea do not have tears. It is that fact, perhaps, that separates the merfolk from the humans. Long shimmering tails and siren songspells aside, the simplest divider was that when humans were hurt, they wept. But when the young royal princess of the Carinae Sea, which humans called the Blackwater Bay, was upset, all she could do was swim for hours around her gilded cage of coral and cowrie stone. 
Princess Lerína angrily swam through the seaweed drapes that kept her grotto hidden from all others. Her powerful tail thrust behind her, creating a shining kaleidoscope of purple and blue. As she frustratedly sat down on the large rock on the ocean floor she'd made into her little sofa, her long black hair, a mass of braids and flowing curls decorated with shells and pearls,  cascaded around her head, irritating her further.
"He just doesn't understand, I don't have to see things the way he does!" she said angrily to Flounder, her childhood companion. 
The princess and the little fish had just been scolded by her father, King Oceanus, for spending time on land.
The day had started a happy one. Lerína had managed to escape the watchful eye of Kunle- the crab majordomo her father had assigned to watch after her, met up with Flounder and gone to find Scuttle- her seabird friend- to show him her recent human finds. Her latest favorite was what he called a Dinglehopper, used to create an aesthetically pleasing hairdo. She'd returned to the castle smiling, saying hello to every shark who made up her father's kingsguard and humming sweet songs. However, the day turned sour when Flounder accidentally mentioned to her father, King of The Seven Seas, that she'd been spending time on the surface again. Her father had done what he always did. Yelled, waved around that trident of his, and said that of every problem in the sea, she was his most troublesome. He'd given her the usual reminder that she would soon be married to a noble merman and that her fixation on the human world would not make her a more desirable bride. Bringing up how humans butchered the queen, however, was an unusual low blow. The reminder of her mother's fate sent shivers down Lerína's spine.
Now, as she was sitting in her grotto, the one place she had to herself, she pondered her father's words. Looking around, she took in the beauty of her human treasures: the shimmering little gold coins she'd found in a pouch lost in a kelp forest, the countless books written in a human language she couldn't understand, and the gold sphere with two glass ends that made everything bigger she'd just found that very day. 
Lerína chuckled dryly. "I just don't understand how a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad. I just wish I could learn more about them. See them dancing, walking around on those… what do you call them?" she asked, gesturing to her fins.
"Feet!" Flounder responded joyfully.
"Oh, right," Lerína smiled. "Up there, they just walk and run wherever they want! Wandering free, without the constant eyes of crab babysitters and shark guards watching their every move. Tides, I wish I could be part of that world." Lerína looked up at the circular opening at the top of her grotto, admiring the colors the rapidly vanishing sun cast onto the ocean surface.
"Well, what would  you do there? If you could," Flounder asked.
Before the young mermaid could respond, she noticed the colors she'd admired just moments before being blocked out. A ship, she thought. She'd never seen one so close. Real live humans, so near that she imagined she could hear their voices through the waves. With the reminder of her impending doom wedding looming over her, Lerína, it occurred to Rhaenyra that this may be her first and last chance to ever see humans up close. 
Father will never know.
"Lerína, I know that look. It's the bad idea look. What are you-" The little fish was abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust created by the sea princess's tail as she rapidly swam for the surface, quite literally chasing her dream. As she grew closer to the surface, she reached out her arm in front of her, desperate to be close to humanity. 
And when she breached, she couldn't believe what she saw.
The ship was smaller than most of the wrecks she'd seen underwater, but it was still the most stunning thing she'd ever seen. The wood was a rich brown, with a golden sharp-toothed creature at the head. Lerína believed the beast to be a dragon. She'd heard stories of dragons as a child. While tails, songspells, and salt ruled the seas, fire, blood, and wings ruled the skies. She'd been told that rulers of the human world chained them up and rode them like seahorses- just another sign of how primitive they were. And at the top, two large black sheets with a three-headed red dragon on them.
Dragons have three heads? Lerína thought. I wonder how humans came to control them.
She swam up close to the ship, admiring the craftsmanship of each groove and hook. 
"Isn't this amazing?" Lerína semi-rhetorically asked. 
"NO! It's terrifying! Let's go home!" said a panicked Flounder.
Lerína shot him a look and continued on, ignoring him calling her.
She swam alongside the ship, coming across what appeared to be another boat tied to the larger ship. Only much, much smaller. She wondered what use humans could possibly have of one that size. As she took it in, she noticed two people conversing. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen them this close. She wanted to get a better look, so she did something perhaps dangerous. Grabbing onto the small boat with both of her hands, she pulled herself inside the contraption, her long tail hanging out of the side.
There was a small hole in the ship's side, and she took a better peak to see the pair more clearly. The man was rather plain-looking, she supposed. Brown hair, a round face, and a strange, metallic, heavy-looking suit. He reminded her of  Tíeres- her father's kingsguard who used to follow her around. Nothing particularly special physically, besides the fact that he had legs rather than fins. But the girl who stood beside him… the very sight of her made Lerína's fins tingle, and her eyes widened with a feeling similar to awe. 
She didn't look like any of the pictures Lerína had found on the seafloor. Her hair was nearly as long as Lerína's, flowing like an ocean wave in beautiful ringlets down her back. Her skin was pale as a pearl, with pink lips like the corals her sister, Calypso, grew in her bedchamber. But the feature that stood out the most, the one that made Lerína's heart flutter, was the eyes. Lerína had never seen eyes like the girl's before. They were a beautiful shade of lavender, pure and bright. Lerína felt like she could see the girl's spirit through her eyes, a gentle yet regal and powerful one. She felt as though she could get lost in those eyes and never return.
Another thing she noticed was that the girl wore a crown. Similar to her own, but instead of rainbow abalone, pearls, and cone shells, the girl's was made out of gold, with three ruby eyed dragons in the middle. Lerína wondered if the girl was some form of a princess on land. Her question was swiftly answered as she heard the man speak.
"You should go inside, princess. I imagine the weather will only get worse as we approach the Stormlands."
A princess, like me. 
"I am not made of sugar, Ser Criston," the girl said, and Lerína knew that irritated tone well. It was the very same one she frequently used on Kunle. "I will not be washed away with the rain."
"Of course not, your grace, but in fact you are our princess. You must be protected and kept in perfect health at all times. Now, if you please," the man said.
"What if I do not want to be as my father is, Ser Criston? Complacent. Too afraid to take risks, cut off from the rest of the world. What if my desire is to fly to the edge of the Narrow Sea on Syrax and find new ways  to better our kingdom. The world advances while we remain stuck in the days of the conquest."
"It does not do well to live in fantasies, princess. Now that you've come of age, your responsibilities lie at home. Your father expects it of you."
"Yes, for me to remain cooped away in that castle in isolation and fear forever. I can't live like that. I can't explain it. Perhaps it's the blood of the dragon making me restless. But even now, I can't help but feel that there's something here calling to me.
Lerína had never felt more seen or understood by anyone. Her six sisters had all taken to their roles as rulers of their seas with ease. They knew their place in the world and fit into it. Meanwhile Lerína never seemed to get anything right, much to her father's displeasure. They could never see eye to eye, and every stroke of her tail felt like a mistake, a disappointment. She knew what happened to her mother, and yet she always felt like there was room for progress. Contact with humans could help dawn a new era for their people. She felt foolish sometimes for thinking such things. But this girl, a girl from another world, she understood.
Suddenly, the ship, and the little boat in which Lerína sat began to shake violently. A man in a pointy hat ran across the deck, shouting "Storm coming in fast! All hands on deck!"
Suddenly all the humans began to scurry around like a panicked school of fish, tugging on ropes and climbing around. The man in the metal suit pulled the violet eyed girl away- much to Lerína's disappointment. She rose up on her arms to try to get a better glimpse, but the girl was already on the other side of the ship. 
"Lerína, watch out!" Flounder's voice called out. 
Lerína turned to see a group of large rocks right in front of her. She quickly hopped out of the boat and dove into the water, escaping just seconds before the boat was destroyed. She swam around, surfacing again to see the entire ship had descended into chaos. Bright, hot wisps of orange and red were rapidly spreading across the deck, and Lerína realized that this was fire. She had previously thought fire only existed in small boxes in human homes to keep them warm, but this fire was certainly not that. Everywhere the wisps went in their violent dance things broke and shattered. The humans used knives, similar to the stone and shell ones merfolk used, to cut free more boats like the one Lerína had hid in, and quickly jumped overboard into them.
Lerína watched as the land princess helped a brown haired girl, and a furry creature with a tail jump over. The girl was able to make it onto a boat, but the other creature was being pushed back under the waves. Lerína took a risk, diving under the water, grabbing hold of the creature and pushing it towards the boat, dipping under it just before she could be seen by any of the humans. 
She swam back around to the side of the ship, looking for the girl, just barely catching a glimpse of her before the entire ship turned on its side, and the girl fell backwards into the sea. Lerína swam around the front of the ship as quickly as a swordfish, tossing away priceless human items in search of the girl. She was nearly crushed as a statue of a woman came flying at her from the ship, but she narrowly dodged it. She dove down deeper, finally seeing the girl sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. Lerína swam as fast as she could, quickly taking hold of the girl and bringing her to the surface.
Above the sea, as the waves rocked them back and forth and the burning remains of the ship illuminated the night, Lerína felt a strange sense of calm. She looked down upon the girl in her arms, and she looked so peaceful and beautiful. Lerína's heart fluttered once again. Saving a human would go against everything she had ever been taught. If she ever came in contact with them she was meant to swiftly escape, and in the worst case, use her siren song to kill. As she looked down on the most beautiful face she'd ever seen, Lerína knew what she had to do. 
So she held the girl tighter, and allowed the waves to swallow them whole.
˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚
She had never been this far from Atlantis before. She could feel the dry sand burning her hands and the top of her tail, while the waves caressed her fins back and forth. Her hair was damp against her back, and the land princess was in her arms.
Lerína laid the girl on her back against the sand, immediately leaning against her chest to check for a heartbeat. When she couldn't hear one through the girl's thick, fuzzy red and black garment, Lerína quickly unbuttoned it and pulled it apart, leaving the girl in nothing but a thin gown, which, in its dampened state, made the girl's breasts plainly visible. Lerína's cheeks, for no reason she understood, got hot. She shook the girl a few times, trying to rouse her. Finally, the girl coughed a few times, spitting out seawater. Lerína moved back, preparing to escape before she could be noticed. But when the princess didn't move, Lerína did something foolish. 
Taking a deep breath, Lerína closed her eyes, and began to sing. 
˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚
Rhaenyra didn't know where she was and she didn't know what was going on. Vague memories quickly flashed through her mind. Her tour, talking with Ser Criston, saving her ladies and her friends, and going under the water.
Suddenly, there was a voice. A voice so enchanting it flowed through the mist of her mind like a beacon of pure light. It was like a siren guiding her back home. She could barely open her eyes, only being able to make out a girl with long hair- she couldn't make out the color. From what little she could tell, it wasn't anyone she knew, and yet she felt incredibly safe and trusted her immediately. With what little strength she had, she lifted her hand and placed it above the girl's hand on her chest. But just as she was starting to regain her full vision, voices began to shout and call her name. The girl's hand quickly left her chest, and she vanished on the beach like seafoam. 
˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚
Lerína, hidden behind a large rock, watched as a group of men and women descended down the mountain, all surrounding the girl in a panic. 
"Princess!" "Your grace!" "Rhaenyra," they cried as they gathered around her. 
The man in the metal suit Lerína remembered from the ship lifted the princess in his hands and carried her back up the mountain, the entourage following behind him.
Suddenly, Lerína was overcome with a feeling she could not explain. But somehow she knew, from this moment on, things would never be the same as they were.
I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's started right now. Someday, I just know I'll be part of her world.
She watched as the princess was carried over the mountain and disappeared when she realized something—she knew the princess's name.
Rhaenyra, she thought. I'll be part of Rhaenyra's world. 
˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧🧜🏼‍♀️⋆.˚
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lov4gor3 · 5 months ago
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A Dragon is Born
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TW- childbirth, talks of death,and the stranger himself💀
RHAENYRA POV
“ ARGGH YOU CUNT “, she hears herself scream hoarsely, a sound that was came from deep within, so far yet so close. Her body burned with pain and agony, terror visible in her face as she breathes through her nose and exhales through her mouth. She swallows, terror now replaced with determination “ I will not end up like my mother “ she swallows the lump in her throat so thick as if she is choking on a rock.
Rhaenyra was incredibly nervous and terrified of giving birth, of dying like her late mother, those memories still ached into her memory forever ingrained into her mind. she wishes her mother was here to soother her, to guide her through the pain. But she is gone, of ashes and dust and she will never meet any of her grandchildren and that pains the princess deeply.
she continues to push and breathe, every breath like flames in her lungs, just like she was told and the pain…. oh the pain …… agonizing. The child bed is our battle field, her mother had one said. How Wise Queen Aemma was….. and how brutal she died.
Rhaenyra so deep in her thoughts didn’t feel the pressure between her legs,gone… empty, she opens her purple eyes, shrill screams of another…. a babe…. her babe… her firstborn.
There is still pain lingering in her body, but without a babe clawing there way out, the pain almost immediately subsided and she was grateful for it. She cries when she sees her babe, oh how beautiful her darling girl was, her babe being wrapped in a cloth and placed in her arms.
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oh this feeling… this is what her mother always tried to tell her and there was nothing like it….. oh a mothers love for it is beautifully haunting. She looks down at her little one, her girl, her heir. There is a small tuft of white hair on her head and her skin is dark but a bit lighter than laenor but certainly darker than hers. This makes rhaenrya want to cry and scream with relief and accomplishment, a heir of house Velaryon and House Targaryen.
So enchanted by her babe she barely registered the midwives calling the guards to call for her husband and father. her cries have quieted down the long she feels her mothers warmth causes Rhaenyra to coo at her.
You will understand how much I love you when you have your own children, her late mother once said to her. In her younger years she scoffed at her mother claiming them to be foolish terms for she thought she would never have children, but now she understands the words of her late mother. It only took one look at her daughter to realize what she would do whatever it cost to make sure her babe was safe, unharmed, happy.
“ You little one have caused me a great deal of pain, but how can I scold you for when I’m so in love with you my darling girl. My little dragon i see it, you were born for this world to conquer it like our ancestors, to lead men into armies, to make them kneel and obey. my sweet girl you will show this world that women can be anything they put there mind to. “
Rhaenyra brings the babe to her chest cherishing this moment, peaceful and quiet, looking at the babe she carried in her belly for nine moons, so beautiful…
When she looked up she realized the sky was clear and the sun shone directly on her babe, creating an ethereal look... something inhuman... something dark....
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"The Dragon has been born and they shall foresee a great prophecy in which the Prince that was promised shall fight in the war of death and darkness. For they shall bring the light-bringer and the Prince that was promised together to foresee and defeat death. For they are the most important piece in the game." whispered the stranger, looking down at the babe in the arms of her ethereal mother.
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to be continued......
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ashdashcrash · 3 months ago
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hogwarts moodboard 🏰🪄
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descendinight · 2 months ago
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“May this land forget your calling、May you ne’er return again。”
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vhaenaera · 1 month ago
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Queen Vhaena Targaryen
Vhaena Targaryen, the only daughter of Queen Visenya and King Aegon the Conqueror, was born just a year after Queen Rhaenys’ death. Inheriting her mother’s stern features—the sharp cheekbones, silver-gold hair, and piercing violet eyes—she bore little resemblance to her aunt, Queen Rhaenys, yet it was her temperament that most recalled the late sister-queen. Where Visenya was cold and unyielding, Vhaena was warm and wistful, her mind often adrift in fancies. Unlike her mother, who wielded Dark Sister and commanded armies, Vhaena was a creature of gentler pursuits, preferring poetry, needlework, and song. Yet there was another gift—one far rarer, and more troubling—that set her apart: the sight.
Vhaena was among the first Targaryens in settled Westeros known to possess the power of prophetic Dragon-Dreaming, a gift both feared and misunderstood. It was said she spoke in riddles and saw things no one else could, glimpses of futures yet to come and pasts long forgotten. Though some in court dismissed her mutterings as the prattle of an idle woman, others whispered of madness. None were louder in their condemnation than Tyanna of the Tower, who openly derided the queen’s visions and worked to ostracise her from court. Maegor’s other wives paid her little mind, preoccupied with their own suffering in the Black Bridegroom’s grip.
Her frailty only worsened her standing. An ailment unknown among the Targaryens before her birth plagued her from youth; her skin was pale, her body thin, and oft she grew weak and lightheaded, forced to retreat to her chambers. Some maesters sought to cure her with leechings and tinctures, but none could explain the bloodless pallor of her face or why, at times, she struggled even to mount her dragon. Whatever the cause, it left her at the uncommon mercy of Maegor, who tolerated her presence but offered no great affection in public; behind closed doors however, he assured her comfort.
At court, she was often a silent, spectral figure, her body present but her mind far away. When Maegor grew impatient with her distant stares, he would recall her to the moment with a hard squeeze upon her wrist. She flinched, but never spoke against him. Yet one thing she would not abide was the presence of Tyanna. Whenever the Pentoshi witch was seated at the council table or among Maegor’s wives, Vhaena would press herself as far away as she could, her hands turning the rings upon her fingers, her gaze averted. The sight of Tyanna made her shudder, and it was said that in her presence, the Queen’s blood pounded in her ears like a war drum.
Few sought her company. When Maegor’s other brides or the ladies of the court attempted to speak with her, they found themselves unnerved by her ways. She answered questions with riddles or fell into silence altogether, too absorbed in her embroidery to respond. In her solitude, she stitched dragons, flames, and winged figures upon cloth—symbols whose meaning only she seemed to understand.
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Some cuter facts about her, is that she has a love for butterflies. Oft does she leave her windows open so they can flutter in and enjoy the floral arrangements within the princess’s chambers. One time, Maegor had visited her under good will. He found his sister at her balcony with the delicate insect perched upon her pale finger. He fed his curiosity about her fascination, asking her why she bothers with such weak, fragile bugs. In response, Vhaena responded with a smile and proclaimed that they spoke to her. The butterflies batted their wings ever so softly to communicate, the words translated by the wind into a soft breeze in which she can understand. Maegor just scoffed and decided to quell any protest that lingered on his tongue.
Vhaena also struggled to share a bed with anyone, as nightmares plagued her youth so she took to hiding within another’s bed for comfort. The peaceful moments never lasted long, as she often sought out warmth in her sleep and in turn woke anyone who she touched with her icy hands or feet. So rules were set for her to don stockings and gloves before sharing a bed.
She would hate sherpa.
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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 7 months ago
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but imagine cregan slowly and carefully stroking your bare skin WITH his gloves on ??? 😫🦋🦋
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rainydayathogwarts · 2 years ago
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hello! can i request a smut with remus lupin x extrovert!reader? reader is very bubbly, extroverted, and popular and she's good friends with the other marauders. remus and her have been dating for a while and one time reader catches remus shirtless when she goes to visit him in his dorm and she starts having thots . . . she's actually been having thots for a while and they do it together (her first time? but not remus')
anyways, i understand if you can't get to this. have a good day and thanks from your fellow pan content creator <333
I've been DYING to write some Remus content and this is the perfect opportunity, so thank you anon :) I hope this covers everything you wanted in your request! warnings: smut, mix of soft and rough Remus, oral (f!receiving), wc: 2.5k
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You're in the common room with Lily, occupying an armchair, your legs thrown over its edge while Lily takes up an entire couch, laying flat on her back. It was oddly silent in the common room, but you figured that it was due to the lack of marauders in the room. You let out a deep exhale and Lily giggles, turning onto her stomach before bringing up the topic of relationships.
You were both lucky enough to be in a long term relationship with the boys you'd been crushing on since the beginning of your time at Hogwarts. "So you and Remus... It's been almost a year." You blush, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment as you groan. "You guys still haven't done it... You'd tell me if you did right." You fish for one of the pillows under you to toss at Lily who shrieks, and sits up.
She shuffles closer to you, hugging the pillow to her chest and leaning towards you, her eyebrows raised suggestively. "Lily I want him so bad" You groan and the both of you break down laughing. "And what, he hasn't made a move?" You go impossibly more red, and hide your face in your hands once more, whining "No. He knows I'm a-" You cut yourself off, looking around, before continuing in a whisper, as though it was taboo. "A virgin. So he's waiting for me to make the move" Lily nods in understanding, a wide grin making its way onto her features.
She starts giggling again, and you jokingly shove her shoulder just as the portrait swings open, and the common room is welcomed with the booming laughter of your boyfriends and their two other companions. You both straighten up, trying to wipe the stupid smiles off your faces, and failing.
When Remus, James, Sirius and Peter approach you, you're still smiling, cheeks red from laughter, and trying to avoid eye contact with each other. "What's with you two?" Sirius asks as Remus dips his head down to kiss you, in synch with James' movements towards Lily. You try making space for Remus to sit beside you, but instead he just picks you up, taking your place and places you on his laps. Lily makes solid eye contact with you and clearly holds back a suggestive comment, cuddling into James' side, a hand rubbing her eyes, as if it would hide her smile.
James looks down at his girlfriend, eyebrows furrowed, and leans closer to whisper something to her. You shut your eyes, knowing exactly what she replies to him in a hushed tone, the rest of the marauders starting to get suspicious of her behaviour. James grins, and looks straight up at you. You shake your head in disappointment at your closest friend, but every thought flies out of the window when you feel Remus' fingers dip under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your waist. The movement is completely innocent and there are no other intentions behind it, but it gets you thinking about him again.
The fact that he hadn't changed his behaviour with you when he found out you were a virgin had taken you by surprise and somehow made Remus even more attractive in your eyes. His tendencies to pin you up against the door of his dorm and press his body impossibly close to yours as you made out hungrily only made you want him more, but he was just too respectful. You knew fully well how needy and horny he got before every full moon but he was just too respectful of your boundaries to do anything about it. You both loved and hated him for that same reason.
"You okay sweetheart?" Remus asks and you jump slightly at the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. You turn your head to face him and nod, smiling. He holds your gaze, the hand on your waist moving down to rest on your thigh, but your moment is broken by James, who jumps up, announcing "Well I'm off to get dressed for practice." Sirius nods, murmuring something incoherent and following James up. Peter gets up, leaving the common room to meet his girlfriend, and Remus sighs, saying something about changing out of his uniform. You nod, watching as your friends go up to their dorm, only to look back and meet Lily's gaze.
You avoid her relentless stare, bowing your head down to focus on your fiddling hands. It's only when James and Sirius come down from the stairwell leading up to their dorms that you look up again, and shooting one last quick look at Lily, who follows her boyfriend out of the common room, you get up. You knock twice on the boys' dorm room, waiting for Remus to call out "Come in!" And as soon as you do, your jaw drops.
You stare blatantly at your shirtless boyfriend who takes his time finding a jumper. At your silence, he turns to you, a silent chuckle leaving his lips. He proudly walks over to you and you have to will yourself to look up at his face instead of his shirtless figure. He raises a single eyebrow at you and you flush brightly, hands immediately going to his chest when he pushes you backwards against the closed door, hungrily kissing you, his tongue dipping into your mouth to claim control of the kiss. You moan, wrapping your arms around Remus' shoulders to deepen the kiss as his come down to tightly grip your ass. He breaks the kiss to start nibbling at the skin of your neck, and the little bits of your chest exposed by your shirt and he grinds into you, causing the both of you to moan.
He digs his head further into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. His hands continue to roam your body and he groans, pressing his hips flush against yours for you to feel how hard he is. "Tell me when you want me to stop." He sighs, continuing to grind his hips against yours. You shook your head, causing him to look up and cried "No! Don't stop. Please don't stop."
At your comment, Remus completely separates himself from you, pulling a desperate whine from you. "What?" His palms are now flat against the door by your head and he looks at you straight in the eyes, as though looking for an answer in them. "Don't- I don't want you to stop." You breath out, a hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. "Y/n what are you- are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" He double checks, blinking a couple of times, and you nod.
"Please Remus, I want you to fuck me." And for the first time in your relationship, Remus' whole face goes red, and he licks his bottom lip before pulling you towards him by your wrist. You squeal, your arms wrapping around him when his own wrap around your waist, so he can pick you up and throw you onto his bed. He goes back to roughly kissing you, softly grunting as he rolls his hips into yours. Finally, he unzips his pants, looking at you with a silent question, and you grin, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere. Remus blankly stares at your chest, his hands still on his trousers, and he shakes himself out of it, shimmying out of them before pouncing on you once more.
Remus gives attention to every inch of exposed skin on your body, pressing tiny kisses on your body and leaving a cold trail of saliva on you. His hands reach behind your back, and he fiddles with the clasp of your bra. You arch your back to make it easier for him, and when he finally undoes it, his hands go straight to cupping your tits and playing with them. He tugs at your nipples with you writhing under him, and puts one of them in his mouth, instantly beginning to suckle at it.
One of your hand trails down his back, digging your nails into his soft skin while the second grips his hair tightly. Remus groans when you tug at it, but continues his job of marking you as his. His hands start to wander again, this time finding themselves going lower and lower, until they trail under your skirt, fiddling with the hem of your underwear. His fingers hook themselves to the sides of your underwear and he slowly drags the fabric down your legs. His face dips under your skirt, and just as you move to prop yourself up on your elbows to see what happens, his biceps curl under your legs, pulling you towards him, and he buries his face in your cunt.
You cry out, Remus' tongue teasing your entrance as his nose bumps at your clit. You let your head fall back in pleasure, legs automatically trying to close shut when Remus switches to sucking and licking your clit, while his fingers start to dip inside you. His unoccupied hand is firmly pressed across your lower abdomen to keep your hips from bucking into his face. Slowly, he inserts one of his fingers inside your hole and you whimper, but Remus' hand on your stomach softly caresses your skin while he ensures your pleasure with his mouth. Another finger makes ints way inside you, and Remus begins to scissor them open inside you, stretching you out as you buck up into him.
Remus separates from your pussy to look up at you, and mutters a soft "You doing okay?" You nod, your eyes shut and you try adjusting yourself to his fingers. "No darling, I'm going to need a verbal response." You gasp the instant the discomfort from his fingers turn into pleasure and moan "Oh- I'm, I'm good." And Remus can't help but grin boyishly as the sight of you moaning on his fingers. He leans over, smashing his lips against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue while he rotates his wrist in a way that keeps you desperate for him.
Finally, Remus completely pulls away from you, licking his fingers clean, while maintaining eye contact with you, and your eyes widen in shock. Remus sighs, running his eyes over your body and you self-consciously shut your legs, straightening up a little. He frowns, shaking his head. "No, come on, none of that." He places a hand on your knee, and your legs loosen up for him again. He smiles softly, both hands going back up to the waistband of his boxers. You gasp when his cock bounces up, slapping his stomach, and you're immediately thinking about how all of that's going to be inside of you.
Remus shuffles towards you and takes your last garment - your skirt - off. He starts rubbing your thighs with his big, veiny hands, and starts to reassure you. "Darling it'll be fine. It's going to be uncomfortable at the start, but I'm going to go easy on you, and if you want to stop, just say so." He looks at you, as though expecting a response, but you only shake your head at him. "Hey, remember what I said about needing words?" You nod quickly, then shake your head "Yeah I- sorry. No, it's okay."
Remus nods, lowering himself onto you and giving you a soft kiss on the lips. He's gentler now than he was before, slowly kissing you as he teases your entrance with the head of his cock. He only just realises how uncomfortably hard he's been this entire time and he groans, holding himself back from just sinking his whole cock into you. He pushes into you inch by inch, rocking back and forth to help you adjust to his size, while his hand tightly fists the rest of his dick. Your whimpers are swallowed by the kiss you share, and so are Remus' moans that come out every time you tug harshly on his hair, making him impossibly harder.
When he's completely inside you, he gives you a moment to get comfortable, and he bites his lip, his forehead falling against yours as his eyes tightly shut. It's his turn to whimper, the feeling of your tight pussy clamping on him practically begging him to start pounding into you. But he controls his urges, waiting for you to quietly give him the go ahead from under him. He exhales deeply and moans loudly when he starts to slowly roll his hips into yours, dragging his cock along your tight walls.
You let out a high pitched moan that has Remus drowning in pleasure, and his hand returns to your pussy, rubbing quick circles on your clit. "Shit." He whispers, when you beg him "Faster, please." And he does. He goes slightly faster, but it's enough to have you both nearing the edge. Remus connects your lips again, groaning into the kiss when your nails drag down his back, and the arm holding him up above you starts to shake. He focuses on your clit more, only slightly increasing his speed so you're both pushed over the edge at the same time.
"I'm so close. God sweetheart I can feel you squeezing me, are you gonna cum?" Whining at his words only encourages him to continue talking to you. "Be a good girl for me and cum on my cock. You're fucking making me crazy over here." And his words seem to have a positive effect on you by the way your leg twitches and your grip around him tightens. Remus holds back until your back is arching and you're screaming his name repeatedly for him to release inside you, his hips wildly rutting into you. He whimpers, leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth and sucks hard.
He prolongs your orgasm by continuing to buck into you and rubbing your sensitive clit, until you're pushing him away from you. Remus pulls out, his hand coming up to fist his dick, cum dribbling down onto your stomach. You moan at the sight as you catch your breath, staring at your boyfriend, his eyes shut in pleasure and his untameable hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. When he rides out his orgasm, he collapses next to you on his stomach, catching his breath.
You giggle, turning around so you're laying on your stomach, and a hand comes up to rub Remus' back. "I think it's supposed to be the other way around" Remus chuckles, turning on his side and pulling you closer to him by the waist. You grin, returning the kiss he gives you, and humming in satisfaction. "How was that?" He asks quietly, suddenly shy as insecurity makes its way onto his face. "It was amazing." You reply, bringing him into another kiss, which he breaks too early. "How about you let me go run a bath for you?" He asks, without giving you time to answer before getting up from beside you.
Your eyes widen as you watch him walk away, angry red scratch marks on his back staring right back at you. Despite that, you let yourself fall back on his bed, a wide grin making its way on your face when you think back about what had just happened.
God, Lily is going to scream when you tell her.
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anotherlikeyou · 1 year ago
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misguidedasgardian · 6 months ago
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The hour of the Wolf (XII)
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XII. The Storm that is brewing
MASTERLIST
Summary:It was the calm before the storm
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, TONGUE-LOSING, blood, death of a horsie, a tourney and all the violence that comes with it, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, birth, might miss some warnings 
+18, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 4 k 
Notes: Alright, you know what? This is going to get ugly, I’m a sucker for happy endings but I want to make this story as “real” as it can be, and if ASOIAF is known for something… is that nobody is safe, and this isn’t your usual fairytale. Sorry for the long wait but it took me a WHILE to figure out where I wanted this story to go, and how I wanted it to end, and from how it began. I felt like I drifted too much, too ooc, so… here.
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Aerion was fuzzy, it was the noise, but still, you did not want to part from him, and besides, this entire thing was for him.
A tournament had started, two moons later, knights and houses from all over the continent had come to enjoy whole weeks of celebrations for the birth of your child. 
You kept gazing back at him, with the nannies in the corner of the royal box, as knights fought to death in the field in front of you. This didn’t amuse you anymore and you wondered why they ever did. After the war, you didn’t really want to see more violence, more blood, or more death.
But nobody died yet so you were hopeful 
“Papa! look! that knight has a pointy spear, more like the others”, pointed Rickon, he amazed you more and more each day, he was so smart, nothing ever escaped his sharp little eyes. 
But soon the relaxing environment turned sour, as the spokesman presented the next joust
“Ser Daario Blackwood wished to face Ser Jonos Bracken”, you frowned as you looked around and nobody was cheering
Who organized this?
“This cannot happen”, you whispered to Cregan by your side, who frowned, “who organized this?”
Worrying whispers took over the bleachers as the people made nervous remarks. Everybody knew the bloody story between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, they would make any excuse to shed each other’s blood.
Ser Daario approached the royal box.
“Your Grace, my queen”, he offered with a big smile, putting up the visor of his helmet. “If you do me the huge honor, of granting me your favor for this joust, ill surely assure it”, he said with a big smile.
“Of course”, you offered him, throwing through the end of his spear your flower crown, it made from Crepe Myrtle leaves, which look almost black, with red roses and ears of wheat that looked golden.
“Thank you, your most gracious Lady”, he said confidently
Ser Jonos Bracken rode his horse towards it to, this time, he stopped in front of Jaehaera
“If her grace would honor me”, it was odd, to say the least, she was small, and the way he referred to her made your skin crawl. Jaehaera, oblivious to it all and the way he referred to her, she was a child, but she shouldn’t be greeted as “your grace”
She threw her flower crown at him with a soft smile and twinkly eyes, she reminded you so much of Helaena it made your chest tighten.
“Thank you, princess”, said Lord Bracken.
Then both rode to the opposite sides of the tilt
At the signal, both spurred their horses, which neighed nervously and started galloping angrily against one another on each side of the wooden palisade. They met in a horrifying crash of wood, meat and metal.
It was the Bracken who had the point of his spear sharpened and without the protection of the metal point, and when they collided, people screamed as they saw the bloody outcome.
His spear failed at the last second, instead landing on the poor Backwood’s horse, the poor thing screeched in agony. Cregan was quick to distract the children as your eyes couldn’t be taken out of the bloody scene.
The Blackwood got out of his dying mount and unsheathed his sword in a violent movement. The Bracken was quick to release his weapon and do the same
“You are an embarrassment Bracken!”, you heard him scream, “Craven!”, he met his sword with a clash, “Treacherous!”, another swing, “Cunt!”
But the Bracken was quicker, pushing him and threatening him with his sword. You jumped out of your seat and that is when the whole stadium seemed to go quiet.
The Bracken stood tall with the point of his sword in the Blackwood's neck. 
“For the one true King of the seven Kingdom, and his heir! princess Jaehaera Targaryen!”, everyone gasped and you just looked at him, straight in the eye.
Blackwood snapped out of the floor, taking advantage of the distraction, he kicked into his legs making him trip and fall, he did as well, he sliced his leg, and when he was back on his feet, he did the same as he had done him, he put the point of his sword in his neck. 
“Your grace?”, he asked, “should I slay this traitor’s neck?”, he asked loudly. You heard the children being taken out of the box by the Queensguard.
“Let’s not sully this day with death”, you said loudly, “a tongue I think, sends a better message”, you offered. He did not seem pleased, but obliged. 
He took out his tongue in front of everyone
And then they cheered as he raised it in the air.
But there was a part of the public who didn’t applaud, just watched the screaming Bracken on the floor with frowns and disgust.
And you didn’t know what to make of it.
You didn’t know what to feel, or if you should feel anything at all when the joust continued, you couldn’t let it bother you, not in front of the most important families of the realm who had come to celebrate ‘a new beginning’, allegedly. You had to show yourself strong, and that is exactly what you did.
You did not look at Cregan for the remainder of the event, you loved him, he was your husband, but you were the Queen, and you couldn’t be seen as the young girl -that you were- , looking at her husband for approval in front of any trouble that comes your way.
Although he grabbed your hand and squeezed it, in sign of strength.
And you were thankful for that. 
The Blackwood was all too happy to continue jousting, invigorated by the Bracken blood you let him spill. The Blackwoods were unhinged but they were loyal to you, and after the situation with Alysanne Blackwood, but everything seemed fine. You wanted to make them an offer of marriage soon, they were key in the victory to the Blacks.
“Ser Abelar Hightower”, out of nowhere, came a knight dressed in all green, with silver marking, a whole tower in the top of his helm, as he wasn’t on the list apparently.
And nobody in the capital had heard anything from the HIghtowers since before Aerion was born, so probably half a year now.
This was the younger brother of the clown that appeared before you when you held audiences 
“The Queen was requesting the Hightower presence!”, he said loudly, in a tone you didn’t appreciate, “so I came here to ease her worries”
Well, he didn’t, he faced Blackwood, your personal knight, carrying your favor. 
He jousted against him, and he threw him off of his horse in the first assault, he was alive, but barely as they took him out in a made up bed. 
And he kept charging at your knights, and winning, and winning yet again. 
Then he rode back right in front of your box
“You grace”, he said, taking out the helm. He was nothing like his weak brother. This man was tall and broad as a log, handsome. “I’m here to ease your concerns, and worries, there is no danger to expect from us”, he said, again, the message meant well, the issue was his tone, he was mocking you, “after you emptied out coffers, my Queen, we were forced to cut the tree a little thinner, if you get my meaning”, he said simply
“I do not”, you said back, “but again, this is hardly the time and place”, you said 
“We, the Hightowers, got nothing to hide”, he said, sporting a wide, mocking, grin, “we will always serve the House of the Dragon, and the rightful heir”, he said then, and that sparked your interest
“And who that might be? in your eyes?”, asked Cregan, as he stood from his seat, you had missed the fact that he was angrier than you.
He always got particularly in front of treachery and traitors, he took the capital without a single drop of blood, driven by justice and vengeance. And now he stood again in front of you, like the man who had taken King’s Landing in your name
In your late mother’s name.
“Well, the Queen of course!”, he said, “and the next in line, Prince Aegon and Princess Jaehaera”, there it was
It was a complicated situation, as you found the eyes of the mortified lady Tyrell of the Vale, who had attended the celebration in the Reach’s name, and representing her son. She seemed frightened of what was happening, no in any way shape or form what she desired out of her Kingdom.
But still, the Hightowers remained one of the most powerful houses in the realm. Because of where they stood… the oldest city in the seven Kingdoms, the peak of light and wisdom
“The Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne is Aerion”, said Cregan, “of House Targaryen and Stark, a son of Ice and Fire”, he said firmly, “you might not have heard”
The knight only smiled and nodded, hsi auburn hair reminded you of Alicent
Soon, your son’s cry filled the air and he seemed to have put everything back in order, as chatter spread all over the stadium and noises began filling the air.
“Your grace”, called one of the midwives, you looked back at him with a fond smile
“Take him back to the Red Keep”, you allowed, as you had still tourneys to watch, “Ser Erryk”, you called, he nodded and escorted them back to the castle.
But you yourself couldn’t hold on for much longer.
The night found you in the bowels of the Red Keep
You lit up the candles underneath Balerion’s skull, where you tended to pray before Cregan took the city, before everything was… alright.
“Ao teptan nyke skoros nyke eptan hen ao”, [You gave me what I asked of you], you whispered, ”ao ossēntan ñuha qrinuntyssy, se isse pālegon nyke teptan ao mirri nykēla”, [You slayed my enemies, and in turn I gave you some myself], “ao teptan nyke ñuha dārion”, [You gave me my kingdom], “sir iksan asking syt kustikāne naejot gaomagon ziry”, [Now I’m asking for strength to keep it]
“Tepagon nyke kustikāne naejot mīsagon ñuha tresy”, you begged, you closed your eyes and focused your energy, your mind, your senses into this moment, this silent moment
Nobody ever taught you how to pray to the Gods of Old Valyria, but so far, Balerion has been listening.
You felt him, heard him coming towards you from the hallway
“Are you praying?”, asked Cregan, Erryk following closely behind him
“I’m very sorry your grace”, he apologized
“I didn’t know you followed a religion”, he said
“Some say Targaryens, as their dragons, don’t answer to neither god nor men”, you said gently, “But I find comfort of the Gods of Old Valyria, those whose names inspired the ones of our dragons”, you told him, “Balerion is the god of death, the greatest dragon of my house, and the one whose fire shaped the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms alike”
“You ask the God of Death for strength?”, he asked, he wasn’t judging, he seemed truly surprised. You didn’t answer, “I’m very sorry for interrupting your prayers, but, I was getting worried when I didn’t see you with Aerion, your head snapped back to his
“Is he alright?”, you asked 
“Yes”, he was hastily to answer, making you sigh, relieved, “Yes, our son is well, strong like his mother”, you smiled, giving the skull one last look, you returned to the safety of the halls of the Red Keep. 
“The feast is waiting”, said Cregan. You barely nodded. And began walking next to your husband
[“I’m concerned”, he said, frowning, looking all across the sea, a cup of wine in hand, “she is alone, without no friends, no family to guide her and care for her”, he said slowly, he then turned to his friends and confidant]
Cregan searched for your hand, and you squeezed it back. 
[“She has you”]
“Let’s get Aerion”, he offered
[“It’s not the same”, he said, “I had made you come here because I believe you are the last one, the last one that could be of comfort, you are, in all effects, her aunt, cousin to her mother”, he said softly.]
“I have a surprise for you wife”, he said with a soft smile
“What is it?”, you asked him, intrigued
He led you to the rooms on Maegor’s Holdfast in which you usually would host members of the family who did not reside on the Red Keep
[Lady Jeyne Arryn sipped her cup of wine]
“Aunt!”, you said, happily, as you saw Jeyne Arryn herself waiting for you with a pleased smile. You remembered her fondly, she hosted you when you seeked her support for your mother days before the real war began.
[“I will stay, for a while, to comfort her”, she said, “as my nephew is getting ready training to be the future Lord of the Vale, and I do want to see that beautiful little cherub, a son of ice and fire, the prince of Dragonstone”]
“My Dear niece”, she hugged you back tightly
“Are you here to stay?”, you asked her once you separated, “I heard your nephew is doing great work, shows great promise to become future Lord of the Vale”, you say warmly, she smiled and nodded
“Indeed, it is my wish that I can indeed stay for a good season, to give you my company and my counsel if you so desire it”, she said warmly
“Nothing would please me more”, you said in all honesty. You missed the looks they exchanged with Cregan, you missed the complicity.
“You will be the guest of honor at our feast tonight”, said Cregan
“That would be your son”, sh chided carefully, “is him who we honor, although, not everyone was aware of that”
“Were you there today? at the tourney?”, you asked her, frowning
“Sometimes tells of treachery travel faster then the wind”, she said with warning in her voice
“It is normal, I think, to be resentment, specially after how the Hightowers were shunned”, he said
“After a fire there is always ember”, she said, “what’s important is that it doesn’t catch anything dry around it”, only five minutes -to your knowledge- here and she has already proved herself to be wise and a counsel worthy to listen to.
Until you gathered them in a great hall, you remembered how many great families are in the seven Kingdoms. So many you couldn’t possibly remember their names. 
The music was delightful, the food was delicious, the wine was floating freely, thing to Lord Redwyne, but… BUT… there was still something tense in the air.
The mysterious Lord HIghtower didn’t present himself again, he left as mysteriously as he appeared and that did not make you feel better.
You and your counsel, with the arrival of your son and other events, had completely forgotten about the fact that Old Town seemed to have been erased from the map without any word to the capital.
And you did not believed the arrival of Lord Abelar HIghtower to be a ‘proof of life’
This was only one of many feasts you were holding for the week's events, so, to everyone's relief really, it ended quite early. The guest of honor, meaning your baby son was not in attendance and you felt restless after today’s events and you wanted to see him.
You have been so caught up inside these walls that you sometimes forget there is a whole world, millions of people out there. 
What was happening in the cities? what was happening in the streets of the very city at your feet? in King’s Landing itself?
What was said today? Was it in the mind of most people that it was safe to be? That they wanted Hightower blood in the Iron Throne? that they wanted Jaehaera reigning alongside Aegon? that they believed the Greens should have won?
That you were not the one who should sit the Iron Throne.
Thoughts haunted you as you walked back to your apartments, you felt your resolve crumbling, and that could not happen, you couldn’t slip, you needed to remain strong.
You passed by Aegon and Jaehaera’s apartments, as you saw them both sleep separately you thought about marrying them, but, now? not so much. The betrothal was still not of public knowledge, perhaps you’d do well in marrying Jaehaera away from this madness, with a kind powerful family, that will treat her well, when she is at least eight and ten. Perhaps that is what is best.
She was a kind and sweet child, and even though you wanted to have her under your wing, this foul city was not for the kindhearted, for the faint of spirit.
You learned that the hard way
And despite your best efforts the Red Keep was a nest of vipers. 
“Ser Erryk”, you greeted as you found the man guarding your apartment where your son slept.
“Your grace, might I introduce you… the latest member of the Queensguard: Ser Steffon Mangold”, presented Erryk, you smiled warmly at the blonde man stationed right beside him. 
“Your grace”, he said enthusiastically, taking a knee in front of you
“It’s a pleasure, I have been told that you were the hardest to find”, you laughed softly, he smiled and stood up again. “The last spot to the Queensguard, where are you from?”
“King’s Landing your grace”, he said quickly, “I have been raised in the city, and I think that is why they chose me”, you looked at Erryk and smiled at him, he nodded back, he had done a good job, it had taken almost a year, but finally it was done.
The mythical seven guards of the Kings, Queens and Princes of the Seven Kingdoms. You looked at the other man at his side, the ones on watch.  
Down the hall, following you, came…
“Ser Mervyn Flowers”, greeted Erryk diligently. From House Peak, of Starpike, this as the bastard brother of the Lord of Starpike, Unwin Peak, but you only smiled politely
“Ser Mervyn”, you offered, “Now that I’m in the best care possible, take the night’s watch and watch the childrens chambers if you please”, you checked with Erryk who nodded at you
“It is an honor your grace”, he said, nodding dutifully, and left you
You did not like him.
And it wasn’t unfounded, his brother, half brother, the current Lord of Starpike, had been a supporter of the Hightowers during the war, gathering a host of two thousand men to support the Green army from Oldtown.
During the time Cregan held trials for the traitors and afterwards when you yourself held audiences, Lord Peak came rushing to… demand… your forgiveness, you granted it, not wanting to trouble yourself and to give instability to the Reach after everything that happened so, you pardoned him after the counsel of your now husband. The problem was… he never left. 
He had offered himself to fill the post of Tyland after his untimely demise, and Cregan had refused him, deciding to bring yet another Lannister, and now he spent his days… whining and bitching and commenting of every decision the small council had ever made, he couldn’t secure a position for him or any of his family, except for his half brother.
Who was the finalist of Erryk’s long list of candidates, in his defense, for the post of Queensguard, so they decided to pull him to the first seven, to calm his brother, and it looked like it worked
For a couple of weeks
Now the Lord of Starpike was at it again.
He had a daughter, of Aegon’s age, and he was insisting on betrothe the two. You avoided him like the plague, because of your doubts on what to do with the future of the little ones of your family. 
No matter how good you tried to put everything together, with the right people, the right family, the throne kept being like a light in the middle of a swamp, I was going to pull in all kinds of creatures, good and bad. 
“Ser Erryk, you and Ser Steffon are the ones in charge of Aerion”, you said softly, “until he is of age he will be sharing my chambers, so I want one of you at least with him at all times”
“Of course your grace”, you looked at Ser Steffon, who looked very professional and well mannered, standing there like a statue of the Father.
“Ser Steffon, can I have a word?”, you asked him, he seemed surprised, but nodded 
He followed you inside your chambers.
“Have you been out there, in the city, recently?”, you asked him
“Yes your grace”, he said, standing firmly right by the door
“Can I ask, what had been said? in the streets?”
“Your grace?”, he didn’t seem to understand your questions
“What are people saying? about after the war, about the succession?”, you asked him
“The people love their queen!”, he said rapidly, like he was afraid of high treason
“Please”, you begged him, “I won’t hold you accountable for what the people re saying, they are my subjects and if they are worried or displeased I need to know”, you said gently, he seemed pleasantly surprised, but somewhat relieved
“Well, your grace, you see, the war was hard on everyone, and when they raised against your mother, the situation was critical”, he said, “but they love their queen”
“What about those who believed Aegon was the true King, that believe in his legacy?”, you asked
“People are contented with how things turn out”, he assured you, “food is being send again, the people are fed, and you are the one who made sure of it, that is what matters”, he said, “stability, food in their bellies, and safety”
“Well, I think that yes”
“They never cared if the reigning monarch was a man or not”, he said, “they believe in their King or Queen, whoever that might be”, he said, “as long as they are cared for”
“That is right”, you whispered. “Do they accept me as Queen?”
“People is glad that the war is over”, he said, “and they see you as the symbol of that, of a new era of peace and prosperity”
“You seemed to fear me, minutes ago”, you teased
“You are my Queen, and this is the biggest honor of my life, I do not want to disappoint you”, he said
“So you have seen what I have done, or at least heard about it, do you think I am a tyrant?”, you asked
“People in the city talk about how you burn alive your enemies, the pens who caused the war, and how you flew in the back of your dragon and saved the Kingdoms from the wrath of the Ironborns, they talk about how you are in truth the protector of the realm, and I do believe it too”, he said, “you are more than the Lady of the seven Kingdoms, you also are the Protector of the realm”, he said
“Thank you Ser Steffon, I value honesty above all else”, he nodded, “you may go”, he nodded and left the room. 
The Protector of the Realm
A strong Queen
You were proving to everyone that it did not matter if you were a woman because you checked all the titles, all of your titles. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm, Queen of the Rhoynar, the Andals and the first men…
With Fire and Blood
Cregan entered the room and smiled as he saw you in your nightgown
“You are happy”, he said with a soft smile
“I have an idea”, you said, “we should take a tour”
“A tour?”, he asked
“After this is over…”, you said, “I wish to take a tour through the Kingdoms, to see my people, so they can see me, and Aerion perhaps”, he listened to you carefully and nodded
“I think it can be done”
“The people need to see me, my heir, and my dragon, to remind them, to reassure them that the war is over and the Kingdoms need to be reunited again.
“I believe, it's a magnificent idea”, he said then.
“And we should go to Oldtown first”, you warned
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PCN: I CANNOT SAY ENOUGH HOW SORRY I AM, my inspiration just left the station and didn't come back
AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE
When I woke up this morning, I had no idea, I HAD NO PLANS TO WRITE IT, it just struck me like lightening while I was working, I SWEAR WHEN I ANSWERED THAT ASK EARLIER TODAY I WASN'T WRITING IT, I HAD TWO PAGES AND WERE MOSTLY RAMBLES
Don't know what else to say or how to explain it
I guess Inspiration does have to get you while you are working.
If you read the books, you know what -might- come when I started mentioning weird names, NO SPOILYSSSS
Taglist of the most patient people on the planet
@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23 @sacredmachine @wintfleur @kitkat-writes-stuff @green-lxght @elle-28 @cloudroomblog @r-3dlips
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