#khal drogo x you

[aifanfictions]

a story about (y/n) who is khal drogo's translator and khal drogo slowly falls in love with her and asks her to be his khaleesi in front of all his people one night by the fire

The Khaleesi's Heart

(Y/N) had always been captivated by the vastness of the Dothraki Sea, with its endless golden plains stretching as far as the eye could see. She had joined the Khalasar as a translator, seeking adventure and a chance to immerse herself in the rich culture of the fierce horse lords. Little did she know that her journey would lead to an unexpected and life-changing encounter.

Khal Drogo, a man of immense stature and a reputation that preceded him, had never taken much interest in the affairs of outsiders. His heart was bound to the warrior code, and his focus was on conquest and the endless expansion of his Khalasar. As he led his people through the sea of grass, he rarely spared a second thought for anything or anyone beyond his warriors and his beloved bloodriders.

One fateful evening, as the setting sun bathed the horizon in hues of fiery red and orange, Khal Drogo's warriors captured a party of travelers on the fringes of his territory. Among them was (Y/N), who had been accompanying a merchant caravan on her journey to learn the Dothraki ways. She found herself standing before the imposing Khal, her heart pounding in her chest.

(Y/N) knew the importance of diplomacy and the art of communication. Fluent in both the Dothraki tongue and the common language of Westeros, she was able to bridge the gap between her people and the fierce Khalasar. Her eyes met Drogo's, and she bowed respectfully, uttering the words of introduction in flawless Dothraki.

"Anhaan vekhat hoshori, majin adak jin," she spoke, introducing herself as a translator.

Khal Drogo, unaccustomed to hearing his mother tongue from the lips of a foreigner, was taken aback. His dark eyes bore into hers as if trying to decipher her intentions. Her confidence, intelligence, and the fire in her eyes intrigued him in a way that no one ever had.

Over time, as (Y/N) continued to serve as translator, she and Khal Drogo shared more than just words. She found herself drawn to the strength and honor that defined his character. He, in turn, began to seek her presence during meetings and discussions, valuing her insights and wisdom.

As the weeks turned into months, a connection grew between them, though they rarely spoke of it aloud. (Y/N) saw beyond the fearsome exterior of Khal Drogo, recognizing the depth of his heart and the unspoken longing in his gaze. Khal Drogo, a man of few words, found himself yearning for (Y/N)'s companionship, her laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled when she shared tales of her homeland.

The Khalasar continued its relentless journey across the Dothraki Sea, conquering rival clans and collecting tribute. In the midst of the dust and chaos of battle, Khal Drogo and (Y/N) found solace in each other's presence. They shared stolen moments by the campfire, where he would listen to her recount stories of the world beyond the grasslands, and she would learn of the proud history of the Dothraki.

One night, as they sat by the fire, the sky above them was ablaze with a tapestry of stars. Khal Drogo turned to (Y/N), his eyes filled with an intensity she had come to know all too well.

"Anhaan vekhat anni, (Y/N)," he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "You have brought light to my Khalasar and to my heart. You are strong, wise, and beautiful. Will you be my Khaleesi?"

(Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat. She had never anticipated such a proposition. To be the Khaleesi of the Great Khal Drogo meant leaving behind her old life, her dreams of adventure, and embracing a destiny she had never imagined. Yet, as she looked into the eyes of the man who had come to mean so much to her, she knew that her heart had already made its choice.

"Yes, Khal Drogo," she replied, her voice unwavering. "I will be your Khaleesi."

Word of Khal Drogo's declaration spread throughout the Khalasar like wildfire. The warriors and the women ululated in celebration, recognizing that their Khal had chosen a powerful and deserving Khaleesi. The union of two strong souls promised a future of prosperity and unity.

As the flames of the fire danced around them that night, Khal Drogo and (Y/N) sealed their commitment with a sacred Dothraki ritual. Their love would be tested in the trials of the unforgiving Dothraki culture, but they were determined to stand together, a force to be reckoned with.

And so, under the vast, starlit expanse of the Dothraki Sea, a new chapter in their lives began. Khal Drogo, once a warrior without equal, had found something even more precious than conquest – love. And (Y/N), the outsider who had ventured into this world seeking adventure, had found a love that would change her destiny forever.

As the months turned into years, Khal Drogo and his Khaleesi led the Great Khalasar to new heights, forging alliances and achieving greatness that had not been seen in generations. Their love story, whispered through the winds of the Dothraki Sea, became a legend, a testament to the power of love to transcend boundaries and unite even the fiercest of hearts.

In the heart of the Dothraki Sea, beneath the endless sky, Khal Drogo and (Y/N) embarked on a journey of love and destiny, a journey that would shape the future of the Dothraki and etch their names into the annals of history as a love that conquered all.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Jason Momoa Masterlist.

Until Sunrise (Khal Drogo x Reader)

The Ritual

~*~ Drabbles and shorts ~*~

Bend

Hold me Down

[novaursa]

Savage Crown

- Summary: Khal Drogo comes to see Daenerys, as your brother and Illyrio arrange. But it is not your younger sister that drew his attention, it was you. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Khal Drogo

- Note: This one-shot is based on an anonymous ask I received not long ago. I don't have time for something longer or a series about it, but I hope you like it none the less, dear anon.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The hall is grand but oppressive, a crumbling remnant of a better time. You stand in the shadows behind Viserys. The air is thick with the smell of incense and sweat, a testament to the preparations Magister Illyrio had overseen for this meeting. Your brother stands tall before you, his silver hair glinting in the light, his pale violet eyes filled with barely contained ambition.

Daenerys, your younger sister, is beside him, her head bowed, her silver-gold hair flowing like a river down her back. She looks like a lamb to the slaughter, meek and silent under Viserys's command. It sickens you, though you dare not let it show. Your brother is not forgiving of defiance.

And then you hear it—the heavy footfalls of horses, the deep, guttural voices of the Dothraki. The door to the hall creaks open, and Khal Drogo strides in. He is magnificent and terrifying, a towering figure with dark skin bronzed by the sun, long hair braided with bells that chime softly as he moves, and eyes like onyx. He surveys the room with the air of a conqueror, his presence commanding every ounce of attention.

You cannot help but stare. His gaze is piercing as it sweeps across the room, pausing briefly on Daenerys. Viserys steps forward, his voice filled with practiced charm.

"Great Khal Drogo," he begins, his tone obsequious, "I present to you my sister, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. She is—"

Drogo's gaze shifts mid-sentence, moving past Daenerys and falling upon you. Your breath catches as those dark eyes lock with yours, the weight of his stare almost suffocating. He takes you in, his expression unreadable but intense, lingering far longer than he did on your sister.

Viserys notices and falters, his voice sharpening with irritation. "My youngest sister," he emphasizes, stepping to the side as if to block Drogo's view of you.

But the Khal doesn't seem to care. He steps forward, his gaze still fixed on you, and speaks for the first time. His voice is low and rough, a deep rumble that seems to resonate in your chest. The Dothraki words are foreign, incomprehensible, yet you feel the weight of them as he gestures toward you.

Magister Illyrio interjects with a nervous laugh, stepping in to translate. "The great Khal wishes to know… who stands behind the prince. He says you are like silver fire in the darkness."

Your heart pounds. Viserys stiffens beside you, his face a mask of barely concealed fury. "She is not for you," he snaps, his composure slipping. "She is my elder sister, and she is of no consequence. It is Daenerys who will wed the Khal, as agreed."

Drogo's lips twitch, the closest thing to amusement you suspect he allows himself. He says something else, short and commanding, and Illyrio hesitates before translating. "The Khal says he will decide what is of consequence."

You can feel Viserys trembling with rage beside you, but he dares not insult the Khal further. Drogo turns to one of his bloodriders, speaking in a low tone. The man nods, and Drogo turns back to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he steps back. Without another word, he and his men stride out of the hall, their heavy footsteps fading into the night.

The silence is deafening. Viserys turns to you, his face a storm of fury. "What did you do?" he hisses, his voice venomous. "You stood there like some… temptress! Do you want to ruin everything?"

"I did nothing," you reply, your voice steady despite the fear curling in your stomach. "I simply stood where you told me to stand."

"You will not ruin this for me," he growls, stepping closer. "You are nothing compared to me. Nothing compared to the dragon. Remember your place, sister."

Daenerys says nothing, her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands trembling at her sides. Illyrio steps forward, trying to ease the tension. "My prince," he says placatingly, "this could be… an opportunity. Khal Drogo is a man of strength and desire. If he has taken an interest in your sister—"

"I don’t care what he desires!" Viserys shouts, cutting him off. "Daenerys is the one who will wed the Khal. Not her. Not… her."

You say nothing, meeting his gaze with calm defiance. In that moment, you realize something: Khal Drogo had chosen you. Whether Viserys liked it or not, the Khal’s attention had turned away from his plans, and it would take more than his temper to change that.

As the torches flicker and the silence stretches, you feel a strange mix of fear and exhilaration. Whatever happens next, your life is no longer your brother’s to control.

The Dothraki celebration is wild and untamed, a tempest of sound, movement, and firelight. The air is thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wines, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and blood. Flames leap high into the dark sky, the orange and red light dancing across the sea of bronze-skinned warriors, their shouts and laughter echoing into the night. Drums pound in an unrelenting rhythm, matched only by the ferocity of the revelers.

You sit beside Khal Drogo on an ornate wooden throne covered in furs and adorned with braids of horsehair, a place of honor overlooking the madness. His hand rests casually on the armrest, his face stoic but his eyes watching the festivities with quiet satisfaction. You feel his presence beside you like a storm contained, powerful and commanding even in stillness.

Your dress, a blend of Valyrian silk and Dothraki leather, feels strange on your skin, a mix of your heritage and the savage culture you've been thrust into. You feel the weight of eyes on you—not just the Dothraki, who marvel at their Khal’s silver-haired bride, but Viserys’s gaze as it burns into the side of your face. His fury radiates across the distance between you, as palpable as the heat of the fires.

Viserys sits further back, his face twisted with anger. His hand grips a goblet of wine so tightly that you wonder if it might shatter. Daenerys sits meekly beside him, her eyes downcast, her small frame shrinking further into the shadows with every passing moment. She dares not speak, not when Viserys is like this.

Finally, Viserys’s venom spills over. He slams the goblet down onto the low wooden table in front of him, startling Daenerys and drawing the attention of those nearby. His voice is sharp, cutting through the revelry like a blade.

"How dare you," he seethes, his words directed at Magister Illyrio, who sits nearby with a plate of half-eaten lamb before him. "You promised to help me. And instead, you give her to the Khal?"

Illyrio dabs at his mouth with a silk napkin, unperturbed by Viserys’s outburst. "My prince," he says smoothly, his tone carefully measured, "the Khal chose as he wished. You know how the Dothraki are—no one tells them what to do, not even I. Be grateful that he accepted a bride from your house at all."

"Grateful?" Viserys’s voice rises, his face flushing red. "Do you think this is what I wanted? My elder sister married to a savage, while my plans fall apart? She was never supposed to be part of this!"

Illyrio sighs, setting his napkin down with deliberate patience. "And yet, here we are. The Khal accepted her, not Daenerys. Would you rather he had taken offense and left you with nothing? No crown, no army, no future?"

Viserys rises to his feet, his fists clenched, his voice trembling with rage. "This was not the agreement! You swore—"

"The agreement," Illyrio cuts in, his voice firm now, "was to forge an alliance. And we have. The Khal is pleased, and the alliance is sealed. Your plans remain intact, my prince, whether the bride was Daenerys or—"

"Enough!" Viserys snaps, his voice cracking. "Do not speak as if you have any authority over me! I am the dragon, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

Across the space, you feel Drogo shift beside you. His eyes flick briefly toward the commotion, then back to you. He says nothing, but you sense his irritation awaking beneath the surface.

You glance at Viserys, a mixture of pity and disdain bubbling within you. He is a boy playing at being a king, too blind to see the fragile position he truly holds.

Daenerys, seated behind him, dares a glance at you. Her expression is a mixture of fear and apology, though she says nothing, her small hands twisting nervously in her lap.

"You shame yourself, brother," you call out, your voice calm but carrying easily over the din. The words are like a slap, freezing Viserys mid-rant. His head snaps toward you, his violet eyes blazing.

"You dare speak to me like that?" he spits, his voice trembling. "You forget your place, sister. You belong to him now, do you not? You are nothing but a slave to this savage."

The Dothraki around you grow quiet, their laughter and music fading as they turn to watch. You feel the weight of their eyes, and of Drogo’s, but you refuse to back down.

"I belong to no one," you say firmly, rising to your feet. "I am the blood of the dragon, just as you are. And I will not be diminished by your petty tantrums."

Viserys takes a step toward you, his hand twitching as if he might strike you, but before he can, Drogo speaks. His voice is low and commanding, a single word in Dothraki that sends his bloodriders forward, placing themselves between you and your brother.

Viserys freezes, his bravado crumbling under the weight of their silent threat. He glares at you, his lips curling into a sneer, but he does not move closer.

The dread hangs heavy in the air until Drogo stands, his towering presence a clear statement. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, then turns to the bloodriders and gives a short command. They back away, though their eyes remain fixed on Viserys.

Drogo says something else, a string of Dothraki words spoken with quiet authority, and Illyrio translates, his voice calm but firm. "The Khal says the dragon must learn respect, or he will be taught."

Viserys’s face turns ashen, his bravado utterly gone. He mutters something under his breath and sits back down, grabbing his goblet and drinking deeply to hide his shame.

The festivities slowly resume, the anxiety easing as the Dothraki return to their revelry. But you remain standing, your gaze locked with Viserys’s, your heart pounding with the realization that you have just defied him—and survived.

The aftermath of your union with Khal Drogo is a stillness that feels almost sacred. The furs beneath you are soft and heavy, the firelight from the brazier casting flickering shadows across the walls of his tent. The air is warm and heavy with the mingling scents of sweat, leather, and the faint sweetness of oils from your earlier ceremony. Drogo lies beside you, his body a fortress of muscle and heat, his breathing deep and even.

You rest your head on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat a steady, grounding sound. It feels surreal—this closeness to a man you’ve only just begun to understand. His presence is overwhelming, his silence louder than most men’s words. Yet, there is a calmness to him that you did not expect, a quiet strength that intrigues you.

Tentatively, you trace your fingers across his chest, marveling at the scars that speak of battles won and stories untold. Drogo doesn’t stop you, though his dark eyes open slightly, watching you with curiosity.

“Drogo,” you murmur, testing his name on your tongue. It feels strange, foreign, yet powerful. He hums in acknowledgment, a low sound that vibrates through his chest.

“I want to understand you,” you say softly, your voice a whisper in the dim light. “But I don’t know how.”

Drogo tilts his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. After a moment, he lifts his hand, calloused and strong, and brushes a strand of silver hair from your face. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a contrast to his otherwise imposing demeanor.

You take a deep breath, searching for the few Dothraki words you’ve managed to learn. “Kirekosi…?” you begin hesitantly, the word for “how” feeling clumsy on your tongue.

A ghost of a smile touches Drogo’s lips, and he responds in Dothraki, the words flowing like a river. You catch only fragments—something about strength, perhaps, or heart. Frustration wells up in you, not at him, but at yourself for not knowing more.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, shaking your head. “I need to learn.”

Drogo sits up slightly, propping himself on one arm. His hair falls over his shoulder, the bells woven into his braid chiming softly. He speaks again, slower this time, pointing to his chest as he says a word.

You frown, repeating it. “Ramasar?”

He nods, tapping his chest again. “Ramasar,” he repeats, then points to you. “Chiorikem.”

You blink, the realization dawning on you. “Ramasar means… land? And chiorikem woman?”

Drogo’s smile broadens, and he nods, clearly pleased with your understanding. Encouraged, you sit up fully, wrapping the fur around your shoulders. You point to him, raising an eyebrow in question. “And you?”

He smirks, tapping his chest again. “Lajak,” he says, his voice rich with pride.

“Lajak,” you repeat, tasting the word. “A warrior.”

He nods again, his eyes gleaming with approval. The moment feels like a small victory, a step toward bridging the chasm between your worlds.

Buoyed by his response, you press further. “Why did you… choose me?” you ask, your voice quiet but steady. “Not Daenerys?”

Drogo’s expression softens, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing your cheek. He speaks slowly, his voice a deep rumble. Though you don’t understand all the words, the emotion in his tone is clear—admiration, perhaps even respect. He ends with a word you recognize: anni, meaning “mine.”

Your breath catches, the simplicity and certainty of his claim leaving you momentarily speechless. There is no hesitation in him, no doubt. He chose you, and that is enough for him.

But you want more. “Anni,” you echo softly, meeting his gaze. “And you are mine.”

His eyes narrow slightly, as if testing the weight of your words. Then he nods, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. It is not a grand declaration, but in his world, it is enough—a promise made in the quiet of the night.

You lean into him, your lips brushing his in a kiss that is both gentle and bold. He responds without hesitation, pulling you closer, his hands firm but reverent. In that moment, words are unnecessary; the connection between you is deeper than language.

When the kiss ends, you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. “Teach me,” you whisper. “Teach me your words, your ways. I want to know everything.”

Drogo pulls back slightly, his gaze steady and serious. “Annithilat,” he says, the word unfamiliar but spoken with a weight that makes you shiver.

“What does that mean?” you ask, tilting your head.

He takes your hand, pressing it to his chest where his heart beats strong and steady. “Annithilat,” he repeats, his voice softer this time. “Courage.”

You smile, the warmth of his words settling deep in your chest. “Annithilat,” you repeat, the foreign syllables feeling natural now.

For the first time, Drogo chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that makes your heart skip. He pulls you against him, his arms wrapping around you, and for the first time since your arrival in his world, you feel truly safe. Truly seen.

The night stretches on, and with every word, every touch, the distance between you and the Khal grows smaller. You know the journey ahead will be difficult, but as you drift to sleep in his arms, the sound of his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, you feel a flicker of hope. Together, you will bridge the divide. Together, you will learn.

[writeshite]

(Okay, you're Drogo ask about Reader distracting everyone got my mind working, suffer for my sins)

Dothraki men found you irresistible.

You felt the same about them, so when your travels brought you to Vaes Dothrak during a meeting of the khalasars, and you found your eyes feasting on a nearly endless sea of tall, muscled, perpetually shirtless men, radiating strength and virility, to say you were *excited" was an understatement.

Only the Khals and their bloodriders were needed for whatever meeting or ritual was happening further in the city, so the city was filled with bored Dothraki looking for a good time. You had caught more than a few interested glances, and had simply been looking for a good opportunity to slip away from your master. Alas, the gods seemed determined to interfere in your fun, and two of your potential paramours decided they didn't like the thought of sharing you. Fists were swung, curses were yelled, your master shrieked hysterically, and now you were stuck between two Khals and *not* in the way you would have liked.

"This is your men's fault." One of them - Khal Drogo, you were certain you'd heard, currently in the running for the most *unfairly* attractive man you'd ever laid eyes on - snarled at the Khal opposite him. "Fighting over ass."

The other Khal - Moro - was a little less striking, but his anger was rapidly fading into naked lust every time his eyes found you, the wicked glimmer in his eyes and confident way he carried himself told you the man was on the verge of forgetting the whole thing for a chance to get you into bed. "It's an ass worth fighting over." He was looking at you, his eyes trailing over your body and you stood a little taller, flashing your most alluring smile. It worked, judging by the promising way his eyes darkened.

Drogo barked something in Dothraki, and Moro's head snapped towards him, mouth twisting into an angry sneer. You needed to save this, and you resorted to the bluntest manner possible.

Your outfit was revealing enough as it was - your master liked his male attendants to show off their beauty - and easy to remove. The fabric slipped down your shoulders and hips, pooling at your feet, leaving you in sheer silk undergarments that left little to the imagination.

Drogo and Moro stared at you. Drogo's eyes widened slightly, while Moro muttered something under his breath. "Praise the Moon for sending this gift..." He tore his gaze from you, turning to stick his head out the door and bark at his bloodriders. "This place is ours for the night. I do not want interruptions."

Drogo shook his head as though in a daze, turning his gaze back to Moro. "...who said he was yours?"

"Khals, please..." You spoke in your clearest Dothraki, and both men turned to you again, if possible looking even more aroused. "Peace?" You smiled coyly as you began stepping backwards towards the bedroom. Both followed, their previous animosity eroded by desire. You reached out to run you palm slowly up Drogo's arm, biting your lip as the strong, thick muscle of his bicep flexed under your fingers. Your other hand playfully slid up Moro's chest, fiddling with the leather straps across his chest. "Why not forget the violence and turn our attention to more...pleasurable pursuits?"

The Khal's eyes flicked to each other. There was a moment of silent communication as they studied each other's faces.

"All is forgiven." Moro said.

"I want his ass first." Drogo responded, a wicked grin lighting up his handsome face. His large hands seized your waist and in a quick movement he had you over his shoulder, taking long strides towards the bedroom.

You yelped, excitement flaring hot in your belly. Moro yelled something to the men outside, before darting after you both, eagerly shedding layers as he went.

It would prove to be a delightful night.

[lalunanymph]

GRASSLAND ROMANCE

SUMMARY the strongest tribal chieftain sets the stage to claim his most priceless reward

WARNINGS prisoner of war!reader, slave!reader, tribal chief!sylus, first time, fight-to-death-trope, concubine!reader, oral sex, breeding, mentions of lactating, size kink, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of misogyny, bartering, winning her favor trope, loosely based on the new sylus myth card, mdni, 18+

DAWN SAYS it's daddy sylus's time hehehe second one down, 2 more to go !! sylus is my ult bias and I definitely wanted to go for more of a khal drogo x daenaerys vibe when I started this out, so keep an eye out for bit of dark content discussed here... that being said, will be cross-posting this to a03 soon so stay tuned! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ZAYNE ⊱ XAVIER ⊱ RAFAYEL

The grasslands were not kind to those unfamiliar with its ways.

As a little girl, your grandmother would tell you stories of the fearless warriors traversing these bare lands in search of resources to plunder, steal and conquer. It instilled a sense of fear in you; a knowing instinct to never step out of line less you wanted to suffer the consequences of losing everything you loved.

The day you met Sylus was the day your short life came to its meaningless end.

Taken from your homelands to his tribe, you were relegated to cleaning tasks and cooking; trying to keep your head down and eyes off of you less you wanted to suffer fatal repercussions.

Your days living in sweet bliss were over; your childhood and girlhood gone in one fell swoop.

And yet, despite your best efforts to go undetected, you wound up catching the eye of the fearsome chieftain. His calls for you to his yurt could not be ignored.

You fully expected him to take advantage of your vulnerable state, using his position to conquer what remained of your dignity and hope. 

But, Sylus proved to be a different man behind his ruthless reputation.

A fan of music and wildland games, he often asked you to keep him company for the day, and when the nights got too cold, you were ushered into his private space, allowed to warm yourself with his brazier. 

The scent of moist rose and grapevine trimmings filled the air as you lounged right in Sylus’s arms, enjoying the warmth of his presence and the fire glowing brightly while snow and sleet raged outside of his yurt.

The fearless tribal chieftain was a relaxed man tonight, savoring the presence of his favorite concubine right in his lap. His large hands stroked your hair, fingers running through your locks. The robes he dressed you in were heavy yet comfortable, providing you shelter from the cold; a stark difference from the slave rags you were forced to wear during your earlier encampment. 

“What is on your mind, beloved?”

Beloved. Despite what everyone said or thought about you, Sylus saw you in a different light. A tender and cherished one.

You turned your head to gaze at him, a softness you reserved solely for him shining from your eyes.

“I was lost in my thoughts; thinking back to the time when I first got here.”

A dark look flitted across his face, and he fixed you with a prodding look.

“I know what happened was not ideal for you, beloved. But, you are safe now. I will not let anyone in this camp harm you.”

His promise was as good as gold in this world. Sylus was not someone who would mince words or give you false hope. Despite his stature as one of the most fearsome conquerors of this land, he was a man of integrity and word.

And yet… you couldn’t help the sadness eclipsing your features. 

The ceremonial choosing of his bride was coming up soon, and from the lines of women prepared for him, you paled in comparison. These women were trained from birth to please him, cook for him, and be the bearer of his children. They were thought in the grassland ways, something you were not familiar with.

The women chosen for him did not stick out like a sore thumb, nor were they foreigners of this land.

Each of them were meticulously handpicked to appeal to his tastes and desires; where you fit in, you had no clue. 

It wasn’t as if you were his tribe’s de facto pick. You were sure you weren’t on any of the elder’s lists, your fate relegated to being his concubine for life.

As if he could read your mind, Sylus tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. 

“Beloved, you are the only one for me. There is no one else in these lands I would rather spend my days with.”

You wanted to ask him why; what could possess a man like him to love a lowly woman like you?

But, you enjoyed his caresses on your cheeks and jaw; snuggled closer to him as the wind tore through the night, safe and secure right in his arms.

The next morning, you were pulled aside by one of the village elders, Enkh, as he looked you up and down. 

“My son needs a new wife after his old one died in childbirth,” scrutinizing you from head to toe, he fixed his beady gaze on you like a dishwasher studying a piece of vermin on a brass plate. “And you will do.”

The idea of being married to Enkh’s son, known as the most ruthless and cruel man in the entire tribe, filled you with unadulterated fear. You had no say in your fate, and spent the entire day wondering how to tell Sylus—the chieftain himself—of your dilemma.

But, you didn’t have to open your mouth and divulge the truth.

Sylus already knew.

He called you out to his tent, where some men who were sparring upped and left the second you arrived. In your hands, you held a pouch, given to you by Enkh’s wife before you left their yurt.

A symbol of choice for a woman about to be married, you were given explicit instructions to hand it to his son after his sparring win tomorrow. It was tradition for the winner to receive a wife as compensation, and from the thunderous look on Sylus’s face, you could tell he was not at all pleased about this latest development.

“They claimed you, just like that? Without my agreement?”

Despite not being his official concubine, everyone in the tribe knew of your position with the chieftain. You were virtually untouchable, and only higher up families like Enkh’s, could make the play for one of his concubine’s hands. 

This displeased your lover, who took it as an affront to his rule. 

But, he didn’t react the way you expected him to, with violence and malice as the forefront of his actions. 

Sylus led you to the heart of his yurt, where thick layers of felt and wool provided insulation from the chill. Dressed in traditional Bökh gear, he was preparing for the ceremonial sparring to begin when he heard word of your impending nuptials to Enkh’s son. He dragged you down to his side, letting you rest on the rugs and pillows surrounding the area before he shared what was on his mind. 

“Do you want to marry into that family, Y/N?” 

Instinctively, you shook your head. “No, Sylus.”

He nodded, pleased at your swift rebuke. “I am going to be honest with you—the only way we can circumvent both of our fates to marry different people is for me to participate in the fights myself.”

You gasped, wide-eyed at the revelation. “But, it’s unheard of. You are the chieftain!”

Rough fingers touched your face, caressing your cheek with a softness he only showed to you.

“I know, my beloved. But, think about the alternative. I do not want to lose you.” 

A grin stole across his handsome features, and he shot back: “If I lost, I’d be stuck here forever—in this limbo of never having you… but then again, could I really lose?” 

Unperturbed by his musings, you raised the stakes by straddling his lap, glaring down at him. In this position, he had to hear you out; he had to allow logic to take hold of his wilful mind. 

“Sylus, the rules of the game means that you have to steal the gem from your other opponent and then you can stake your claim. Are you sure you want to do this? You cannot back out once the games have started.”

The Grassland Festival, or the most important festivity for Sylus’s tribe that was happening in a few hours, was in tandem with the fighting ring for men to win the hands of their future wives. 

His red eyes, which shone like a grassland sunset, appraised your form astride his lap; soft and sure.

“My love, you severely underestimate my devotion to you.”

Turning your fates around, he flipped you back onto the soft pillows and rugs, a look of fond playfulness in those jewel-toned eyes.

“All I have to do is fight, yes? And I have never lost a fight.” 

His soft touch tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “You are the prize I must win, my love. I will do everything I can to make sure we stay together.”

Filled with happiness and the surety of his tone, you put your faith in what came next. 

Long and nimble fingers snuck to your waist pockets, where he retrieved the pouch given to you by Enkh’s family. 

“Hey—!”

You tried to reach back for it, but he held it from you, a smirk playing on his defined lips. 

“Is this what you are going to give the boy?” 

Warmth splashed across your cheeks as you tried to glare him down.

“Despite what you may think, you do not own every aspect of me, Sylus. I reserve the need to keep some secrets to myself.”

He hummed, clearly not believing you. “And yet, you spoke of the sincerity of our feelings. Isn’t this me being honest, little dove?” 

You sputtered, tripping over your refutes, and he rolled his eyes.

“Alright, love. Let me make it simple—”

He lifted you closer to him, letting you fall over his lap. The sudden proximity filled your senses purely with him; igniting sparks of heat across your entire body. 

“If someone were to hand the champion a pouch, should he take it?” 

He was teasing you, and it was clear he wasn’t planning to let up anytime soon. 

You huffed, trying to swipe it again. But, he was nimbler than you, yanking the pouch away from your outstretched hand. 

Sighing, you tried to pull him up, grumbling when you barely made him move an inch.

“Have you been training more?” You grumbled, eyeing his broad shoulders; the muscles stretching across his tanned skin. 

“Perhaps. Although as much as I have been honing my skills, I do still need someone to look out for me.” 

His smirk threatened to affect your entire composure, and you darted your eyes away, flushed and embarrassed at how easily he could get to you. 

The faith you had in him to win was astounding; there was a reason why he was known as one of the best warriors in the grasslands. 

“You’re the champion,” you grumbled under your breath. “Do you need me to watch your back?”

In response, Sylus’s smile softened around the edges, his red eyes taking on a tender quality. 

“Let me paint you a scene, love: I win the challenge, and then I get to be yours. How does that sound?” 

Tugging a stray lock of hair which fell loose from your braid, Sylus waited for your answer patiently. 

It was useless to try and dispute him. Whatever the strongest wanted, he would get—and he clearly wanted you. 

“Alright,” you responded softly, conceding with a smile. “If you win tomorrow, I will hand you my pouch. There is nothing you cannot do.”

Responding to your confidence, he chuckled softly, teasing you more by dragging you closer to him, enjoying your weight pressing onto his body.

“Or, we could do it together.”

He hummed, touching the hollow of your throat with his cool lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to staunch your reckless sounds.

“The second I get that gem, you run up to me, crowning me as your chosen one and I respond back.”

Struggling to control your raging thoughts, you murmured: “Will it work—such boldness?” 

To answer your question, he smirked, finding your flustered expression and slight doubt adorable. 

“My, my, love. Are you doubting me?” 

The world flipped around, and suddenly you were thrown over his shoulder. You gasped, confusion mingling with surprised delight as Sylus manhandled you with practiced ease. He stepped past the plush pillows and rugs, opening the flap of his yurt to bring you out into the mellow morning. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” Your sharp inhale spurred on his laugh, his low and rich chuckle making you flush warmly. 

“Didn’t you tell me this before, love? Actions speak louder than words.” To your mortification, he was heading right to the middle of the courtyard, where spectators were already gathering to witness the fight. 

“Sylus—!”

You smacked his broad shoulders, but he wouldn’t let you down. Sylus already had a plan in mind and you were helpless to stop him. 

“Oh, love, relax,” he teased, taking long, purposeful strides towards the other villagers. “I need to show them I already have a lover. And since she won’t let me take her away…” you could plainly picture his cocky smirk. “... I’ll just have to take her myself.” 

The rest of the villagers stopped in their tracks when they noticed their chieftain walking towards them, a smaller woman in his arms. Elders dropped what they were doing to whisper under their breaths, their judgemental eyes trained on Sylus’s smug face and the look of mortification on yours.

“Sylus—”

He set you down in the front stand, tossing you a wink for good measure.

Whispers rushed around the arena like wildfire, catching aflame from the look of pure devotion in his eyes; a look reserved just for you. 

Enkh’s son, a hulking brute by the name of Altan, shot him a glare—insulted by Sylus’s blatant claim on you.

Motivated by his wrath, the tribal chief turned to the other man, raising a brow. 

“Altan, son of Enkh!” 

His voice boomed across the field, shocking you out of your mortified stupor. 

“You dare claim one of my concubines as your wife? Do you know what that entails?”

The atmosphere in the arena tilted towards a frenzy, the people inadvertently roped in to witness the showdown of the year.

Since ceremonial rites were read and sacrifices were made, the last agenda for today would be the warrior fights. Sylus took his spot in the ring, unafraid. The head monk, a calm man by the name of Bataar, whispered something to Enkh, who glared at you as if this entire ordeal was your fault.

You shrank back in your seat, attempting to hide your scorching cheeks behind your palms.

The fight began, and it was clear from the onset that it would be an unfair one. Sylus, whose expertise and years on the field, easily overpowered Altan, pinning him to the ground. A horn blared, and the winner was declared.

A stirring eagerness and relief moved you from your seat, and you didn’t care for customs or etiquette when you ran across the ring, jumping right into his open arms. Sylus lifted you off your feet with ease, spinning you around, his laughter mingling with yours. 

In his palm, he held the priceless gem he stole from Altan’s belt— a symbol of his opponent’s virility. Its capture meant that he had won the other man’s intended bride fair and square. He handed it to you, and right in front of his entire people, you proudly proclaimed your acceptance of his proposal—slipping the jewel right inside of your pouch and handing it to him. 

Triumphant, Sylus took your offered gift, tucking it in the lapels of his leather harness with a contented grin. 

The tribe elders were helpless to stop their strongest from claiming you, as was the custom of these rituals. 

Sylus had no hesitation when he slung you over his shoulder again, a conqueror who had rightfully won his beloved. 

He didn’t care if whispers of your status or his incredible defiance towards the elders would reach his ears; all Sylus could think about now was savoring this priceless reward he fought hard to obtain.

Bringing you back to his yurt, Sylus let the flap fall close behind him, a clear signal to the rest of the tribe that he intended to enjoy his winnings in peace.

Your back met the soft pillows and rugs, his broad build blocking out the rafters letting in warm morning sunlight; lost in the depths of his jewel-tone eyes.

They shone like precious rubies, far more valuable to you than any material item in this world. 

The feel of your palm stroking his cheek, your fingers playing in his hair, suddenly made his stomach twist into hard knots. They were impossible to unravel, a bowline loop which went on for eternity.

His breathing turned ragged, gaze going soft as he looked at you—really took you in.

The sight of his beloved—his bride—right here in his home, about to be taken and claimed by him, set his nerves ablaze more than any war cry ever could. 

Sylus moaned unabashedly when you tangled your fingers in his hair, bold enough away from the prying eyes of others to fall prey to the undeniable attraction you’ve felt for him since the first time you saw each other.

He lets you bring him in for a kiss, your lips sweeter than wildberry dew.

“Sylus…”

The possessive need to claim you flared in him when you called out his name.

Smoldering attraction turned into a wild, untameable blaze, threatening to consume him whole. 

Due to his rugged nature, he never had a woman this close to him, her touch a balm to his rough edges.

In your arms, Sylus was more than the fearsome tribal chieftain whose name could strike fear in any man’s heart. 

He was wont to your desires, an instrument of your love.

“Please,” you licked your lips, and his eyes followed the gesture with a blatant look of desire. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. Sylus captured your lips in a deep and passionate kiss, swallowing your moans whole.

Your tinier fingers in his hair tightened, bringing his body closer onto yours. He fought back a shiver from the force of his desires as his body covered yours completely, trapping you beneath him under his weight.

“My love, you are playing a dangerous game,” he growled, adoring how fragile and small you felt under his hulking mass.

Dragging your hands down the slope of his shoulders, you felt his muscles rippling under your touch; his broad frame and the layers of sinew forming his brawny build leaving you lightheaded.

“Oh, my love. The sight of you underneath me, looking so vulnerable and lovely,” his voice dipped lower, a hoarse edge taking over it. “... it’s driving me wild.”

Shying away from such a bold declaration, you bit your lower lip. “Sylus, will it hurt?”

Sensing you were speaking about the act of copulating, he took your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. 

“A little, but it is nothing you cannot handle. Besides, I will be with you through it all—I will not hurt you, my love.”

The idea of a ruthless tribal leader like him, promising some young slave girl that he would be gentle with her, was so far-fetched from your idea of what a conqueror was that you began to relax in his presence.

You trusted Sylus because he has proven time and time again how your comfort and safety were his priorities.

Especially when he was this close to claiming you.

Steady yet hasty hands slowly unraveled the lapels of your thick coat, his breaths tumbling out in silent huffs. Sylus’s large palms were warm—far too warm on your chilly body.

The great chieftain was a silent, nervous wreck when he glanced down at his beloved, watching her with soft eyes and reaching out to her with an even softer touch. 

“Sylus… please.” 

The cadence of his name on your tongue will never not be the sweetest thing he's heard in his life. 

You returned the gesture, removing his leather gauntlets, slowly stripping him off his warrior bravado to reveal the sweet and gentle man underneath.

“Please, what?” He whispered against your throat. Outside, the cool breeze rattled the rafters, but inside his yurt and in his arms, you were warmer than a butterfly in spring. 

You seized, back arching when he kissed a tender path from your neck to your bare chest. 

The sight of your hardened nipples and smooth curves whipped through him like a frenzy, and Sylus grew impossibly hard at the image of your sweet body, swollen with child.

His child.

The fantasies of your breasts filling up with milk, the slope of your belly gently curving with the promise of his heir… 

 His thin patience was hanging by a thread.

Sylus shrugged off his sheepskin pants, tossing it to the side of the yurt as he quickly worked on the lapels and hooks of your clothing. 

Once your smooth body was bare to him, Sylus’s gaze softened, his tone almost reverent when he said:

“You look beautiful, my beloved.”

You had not imagined your wedding night (or, in this case, morning) to be a tender affair.

Where every brutish belief you once held towards his people melted away with every tender touch of this gentle chieftain.

Sylus propped a pillow under your hips, careful to lean his full weight onto you. Your eyes fluttered shut, a moan seeping past your swollen lips when you felt his tongue glide across your breasts, taking his time to play with and suck on your nipples.

His mouth moved down your body, teasing you with whispery kisses.

Parting your thighs wide, you realized a second too late what he was doing until he slotted himself in between; mouth pressed to your pelvis.

“Sy—”

The protests fizzled out the second you felt his tongue parting through your folds, tasting the effect he had on you.

Low whimpers slipped past your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Sylus… mhmm… s-stop—

But, he didn't relent. He glanced up at your flushed face, shaking his head. 

You can take it, beloved. Can't you? For me?

It wasn't the reluctance that set you back but the shame of such an intimate experience.

You had never experienced a man this close to your sensitive parts; the idea of him in this position itself was too much to bear. You should be worshiping him, not the other way around.

But, Sylus refused to listen to your pleas and moans—hellbent on pleasuring you.

His tongue traced patterns on your clit, drawing out more of your high-pitched whines. There was little doubt whoever passed by the yurts could hear your pleasured sighs. 

Sylus couldn't care less.

He wanted the whole tribe to know you were his;  that he had chosen you and you had chosen him.

His tongue delved deeper into your core, tasting your excitement. Some of it stained onto his face, his chin drenched with your juices.

Your hips rocked to the rhythm his tongue set, your moans reaching fever pitch.

Good girl. That's it. Show me how much you want it.

Sylus murmured, working you through your cresting pleasure.

It came like a rising high within you, soaring higher than any eagle could as you crashed to the ground, screaming his name.

Sylus tightened his grip on your thighs, doubling down on his efforts. Your mess stained his cheeks, his chin, driving his desire to a burning point.

He worked his way up your body, leaving kisses on every inch of skin his mouth could reach.

Finally reaching your lips, Sylus poured every bit of his devotion for you into this heated kiss, swallowing your moans and letting you taste him on his tongue. Strings of saliva connected your lower lip to his, hanging by a tenuous thread.

The heat of your cheeks would have burned you alive, the tension between your bodies rising to a feverish pitch.

Tenderly, he nudged your thighs to wrap around his defined waist, opening you to be taken by him.

The first stretch was accompanied by his lips on yours, coaxing you to relax and open up to him.

That is it… good girl… taking me so well…

The deeper he sank in, the more loud he was with his praise.

I adore you… you sinful, sweet girl… take me… take me good… 

Sylus!

Your cries reverberated across the sheepskin walls. It felt like drowning, your body sinking deeper into the plush woolen pillows.

Oh, oh… oh, right there…

He licked into the heat of your mouth, tracing the ridges of your teeth. 

There? Does it hurt? Do I make you ache?

Yes, you responded deliriously. Yes, yes and yes.

It was the kind of pain you could never forget, yet you desired it all the same. A masochistic plea of your body to be devoured and conquered.

Sylus raised himself up on his forearms, the bulging, rock hard muscles rippling with every exertion; his thrusts almost knocking you backwards if it weren't for his tight grip on your hips.

Every collision of his cock against a spot deep inside of you made your toes curl; leading you closer towards your desperate end.

Sylus—can't… close… 

It felt like a ball of tension growing bigger and tighter, growing uncontrollably hotter with every thrust, every heated whisper of his praise against your ear.

Sylus nipped your jaw, tracing his tongue against the curve of your lower lip.

His gentle insistence, coupled with his brutal thrusts made your body run hot and cold.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin. You were growing dizzier and hotter.

You gasp—fuck, fuck, this is too much—and he tells you just take it, darling.

Take it for me.

He nipped Your earlobe, pushing deeper against your body. 

Does it feel good? Are you close? 

Squeezing your eyes closed, you nodded.

Yes, Sylus… almost… 

Good, he traced his tongue across the heated Seam of your mouth.

Give it to me, darling. Let go for me.

One request. You gave into him.

“Yes, yes,” you shuddered, digging your heels into his lower back. 

Sylus groaned, expressions contorting into painful bliss when your walls contracted around him.

He worked you through them, letting you stab your nails into his broad back.

That's it, darling. Give it to me. Come undone for your husband. 

Husband. 

Husband. 

The word sent an unrestrained quake straight through your soul.

Yet, the reality was far sweeter.

Sylus slumped on top of you, spent after releasing ropes of warmth deep inside your quivering cunt.

Languidly, he rolled you onto his chest, skin pressed to warm skin. You were spent, soaked and still wrapped around him.

The act of consummation was over. You finally belonged to him.

And for the test of his days, Sylus would make sure to show you how much you mean to him; going above and beyond to declare his love. 

“I love you,” he slurred into the heat of your throat. “Always have. And from the very beginning.” 

You nestled closer into his side, feeling safe in the warmth of his arms, finally allowing yourself to embrace the reality of this powerful man’s infatuation with you. 

Amidst the vast and intimidating grasslands, you had ensured your survival as the feared chieftain's wife, with Sylus unwaveringly by your side.

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost on other websites and claim as your own. do not feed my content to AI.

[solbaby7]

If ur still taking requests can i ask for azriel x reader. Where reader and Az are newish friends. One day Elain asks reader for help on how to please a man (I imagine elain always on her back 🤷‍♀️). Reader asks elain if its to show Az and elain just blushes sweetly saying "maybe". Reader being a girls girl shows elain how to be ontop and how to do other favors like if they were besties. ( idk if uve seen game of thrones but a girl shows khalessi how to ride khal drogo. The girl straight up straddles her with clothes on of course, And shows her. I have it in my head that while reader straddles elain Az walks in and is like 😮😮). Readers a bit jealous cuz she has a mini crush on azriel but doesnt show it. She sees elain with some hickies and what not and she decides she cant be around Az anymore (hurts too much blah idk lol). Az is like wtf! Turns out that Elain was asking for sexy help for lucien!!! Doesnt have to be detailed smutty at all, whatever ur comfortable with is cool with me. Oh btw i so so loved that possessive toxic azriel fic u posted the other day. 🫠🫠🫠 🥵🥵🥵

I love love love love love this idea! So happy you requested it🤍💗

—

Teach Me

azriel x reader

[ part 2 ]

“Well—can you help me with that?” A furious blush fans across Elain’s cheeks, eyes wide and hands fumbling at her sides. Dainty fingers dig into the intricate lace detailing of her dress, nails raking over the pattern in attempts to calm the racing of her heart.

“You want to know how to please a male,” You repeat gently, slightly shocked after she’d timidly slipped into your bedroom with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It took Elain ten whole minutes to reign in her rambling until she’d finally blurted it out. “Anyone in particular?” She doesn’t meet your eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot and your stomach rolls at the turn your mind takes. Elain had been spending a lot of time around Azriel; afternoons spent tending to the garden and evenings were blocked off to trail behind as she baked some new sweet treat. “Az, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Elain mutters softly, subtly taking in the contents of your room. The pictures propped against your side table and the endless jars and creams stacked neatly on your vanity. “Can you please teach me?”

Pushing side your curiosity, you offer an encouraging smile, patting at the spot beside you on the bed. “Come here.” The first step is hesitant and so is the one that follows but Elain still finds herself following the gentle command and complying even further when you urge her to lie back. You can feel her thighs shake when you swing a leg over to straddle them but the trembling subsides when you adjust her hair and straighten out her dress. “Sex is like a dance.”

Immediately, she’s hooked, hanging onto every word as if you were the Mother herself coming down for a personal visit. Briefly, Elain’s gaze flicks to the door, shoulders relaxing when noting its shut and locked; curtains drawn and the fireplace crackled with life. The smell of you is everywhere. Something light yet memorable, soft and elegant, classic and slightly sweet—soothing in every way. “A dance?”

“It starts off slow,” You begin, a sliver of your abdomen exposed in your Night Court attire. A breathable onyx top that seemed to wrap around your chest like a bandage, blending into a lighter material that was slightly see-through. “Lingering glances from across the room, the heat of feeling his eyes watching you long after you’ve looked away.” Her confusion is palpable in her furrowed brows and slight pout. “Love always begins in the eyes—I’ve heard of women who’ve finished males with nothing more than their gaze alone.”

“Finished?” Your brow raises, a teasing smirk accompanying it and the implication alone has Elain’s cheeks rosy once more. “Oh, gods. I don’t think I’m capable of anything like that.”

Your fingers trace along the length of her bare arms, holding her hands and guiding them to the sides of her head as you hover, voice low. “You are a woman. You’re capable of anything.”

Elain swallows thickly, taking in the words as if it were the first time she truly wanted to believe them. “What if he doesn’t like it? Like me or the fact that I’m not very experienced.”

“They don’t care about if you have experience or not. They simply desire what they’ve never had.” She hangs onto every word, analyzing the way you guide her through the motions of what she’d do. Talking her through the scenarios on how she’d touch; when to kiss and gently tug at hair. Eventually the blushing becomes less frequent, Elain’s eyes fluttering closed as she visualized it, working through the new feelings that brewed at the thought of being able to use such teachings.

“And they like that? Us on top?”

“If you like it then they’ll love it.” You rest her hands at your waist, demonstrating the sensual rocking of hips going back and forth. “Fae males are not like the human men you were accustomed to—all sweet and gentle. Fae’s fuck. They take control,” You’re still above her, watching as her thoughts race a mile a minute, thick lashes fluttering before she moves in a flurry. Quickly the position is changed and while it’s a little sloppy, Elain was obviously paying attention as she hooks her leg over your thighs the same way you had hers. “Good job—exactly like that.”

She lets out a laugh, seemingly surprised in her own actions but the thrill of it all is evident across ethereal features. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Breathe through it and always remember that no matter how highly you think of him in your mind, no matter how highly others think of him—in that room, he belongs to you. There for you to do as you please and if you’re ever uncomfortable you can always say no. You can always stop no matter how far you’ve gotten.”

Elain nods in understanding, dainty fingers barely gripping at your wrists. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do if—just, thank you.”

She lingers a tad longer, following every instruction you give and just as you’re about to correct her, your door creaks open. A familiar voice calls out your name, shadows slinking across the wallpaper but they freeze once they take you in—sprawled out against the bed with Elain straddling you, hands pinned by your head.

“We were just—“ Elain scrambles off of you, cheek and chest a furious red as her mouth opens and closes; unable to come up with a reasonable explanation before she’s sliding past Azriel and rushing down the hallway.

“Most people knock.”

But Az wasn’t most people. You’d been friends for years and long since had he forgone the formality of knocking before entering. He hasn’t moved an inch, still donning his fighting leathers and surely he must’ve just rushed in from flying because his hair was a fucking mess. Inky strands lay messily atop his head, flopping over his forehead and teasing the thick of his brows. “What was that?” A finger points in the direction Elain had just disappeared off too and you’re unable to explain why such anger swells in your gut—all too aware of the fact that another female would be using your moves on him.

Seducing him in a manor that belonged to you but would never actually be you.

“Just wait a little, I’m sure it’ll make sense soon.” Confusion sweeps over the angles of his face at the vagueness of your words, skewing the corners of his mouth and you have to physically tear your eyes away before you did something stupid. Like, kiss him. You suck in a sharp breath, a hand curling around the doorknob. “You should get to bed, Az. It’s late.”

You can’t bear to see the look on his face when you close the door on him but it was for the best. It was one thing crushing on him while knowing he wanted another. But it was more complicated now, teaching the object of all his desires exactly what to do to him—how to please him and draw out the sounds you’d been dreaming about for decades.

You flop down on your bed, nose scrunching at the lingering smell of Elain on your pillows.

Sleep doesn’t grace you with her presence that night, instead offering a series of scenarios of what could be happening a few hallways down.

Elain’s back two days later, a goofy grin spread across her cheeks and a line of hickeys branding the side of her neck in a way that makes your stomach turn. It takes everything in you to hide the jealously, to smooth over the embarrassment of ever possibly thinking that Azriel would go for you when he had a blushing Archeron hanging off his arm. “I take it that it went well.”

“More than well,” Elain confessed, dressed in a pale shade of green with ivy’s laced into the thin sleeves. “It was perfect—everything was perfect thanks to you.” She continues on, divulging naughty details and devastating descriptions of Azriel’s fingers grazing at bare skin, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his body when the nights chill became too much. “I’d always heard whispers about the males of Autumn but you guys really weren’t joking,” Your head tilts to the side at that certain detail, brow quirking and your spoon halts its swirling about the teacup. “Fire really does run through their veins.”

“Autumn males?” Your hair flicks behind your shoulder with the wild way you turn to face her, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “You were with Lucien last night?”

Elain nods with a knowing smile growing at the corner of full lips, the tulle of her dress shifting obnoxiously when she takes a seat on your bed.

“I guess I just assumed you’d be with Azriel.”

“Not quite my type,” She replies wistfully, gaze far away as if she were reminiscing on the night before and the male involved. “He’s yours though,” It’s not a question but a statement, thrown out there as if it were a known fact amongst others and you were the last to be let in. “—you like him.”

The teacup pressed to your lips muffles the words but Elain still understands perfectly clear. “”He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t really look at friends the way he looks at you.” You swallow audibly, attempting to hide your interest and yet it’s the quick flick of your eyes that gives you away. “It’s exactly as you said the other night,” Elain raises from the bed, a gentle hand trailing up your arm the same way you’d done to her. “Love always begins in the eyes. Just look at him—really look at him and see what’s right in front of you.”

Your hands tremble in your lap and for the first time in a very long while, it was you that felt like the blushing virgin searching for answers and not knowing where to look. “I don’t think I’m capable of handling what I might find.”

“You are a woman,” Elain softly answers. “You’re capable of anything.”

[fantasydreamland]

Lonely Nights

khaleesi x fem reader

Summary: You were her handmaiden in Pentos. You followed her and the khalasar when she married Khal Drogo. You have been by her side through all the heartbreak after he died. You all continue your travels and one lonely night Daenerys invites you to her tent for comfort.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!!! soft khaleesi, wlw, inspired by that doreah scene, smutttt, dry humping, fingering, oral (f&f), fluff fluff fluff, slight angst, some spoilers

word count: 1016

masterlist

“You called for me Khaleesi?” You say as you enter her tent late at night.

“(y/n), yes… I just cannot find sleep. Truthfully it has been difficult sleeping alone.” She says sadly, “An odd request to ask of you but- would you just lay with me?”

“Uh, yes, of course, Khaleesi.” You say a bit timid.

She moves to make room for you as you climb into her bed and lay beside her. She sighs, stuck in thought.

“If you want to talk with me Khaleesi, you know I am here to listen.” You gently say.

“I don’t know. I have just been feeling so dreadful after everything that has happened.” She confesses. “My nights have been restless.”

“Of course Khaleesi. You have been through so much of late. It is no wonder your mind won’t silence.” You say as you both slightly turn to face eachother.

“It has felt rather lonely…” she sighs. “You are truly the only person I feel I can trust (y/n)”

“I am glad to be the one who you can depend on.” You give a soft smile.

She smiles at your words and gazes into your eyes creating unknown tension between you. Her beauty was even more breathtaking up close like this.

You clear your throat to break the tension.

“Hmm,” she smiles turning her face. “I suppose I should try and get some rest.”

“Of course, Khaleesi. I will be right here.” You give a soft smile.

You both drift off to sleep until she gasps waking from a nightmare. You jolt awake.

“Are you alright Khaleesi?” you ask, concern in your voice.

“Yes. Yes. I-I’m fine.” She pants. “Just another dream.”

She turns to you and her startled face softens.

“It is nice to see your face when I wake though.” She lightly brushes hair from your face. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Of course, Khaleesi.” You almost whisper, lightly touching her arm.

She lightly touches your arm in response, giving you a grateful look. This leads to delicate appreciative touches on eachothers arms, hair, cheeks. The electricity between you becoming more intense. She holds your cheek for a moment, her soft doe eyes looking longingly into yours. You feel your heart stop. You watch her quickly glance to your lips and back to your eyes. You do the same, your stare lingering on her lips for a longer moment before meeting her gaze again.

She slightly shuffles closer to you, and you do the same, her hand still on your cheek and your eyes never parting. You both continue to slowly move closer to eachother until you’re merely a breath away.

Her eyes continue to gaze into yours, with a more heated look. The moment is unbearably slow as you inch your faces closer until you connect with the lightest kiss, lips barely touching. After parting you both look at eachother, eyes full of lust and excitement, before meeting your lips again. You moan as your tongues gently dance together, it slowly builds into a deeper more passionate kiss. She pulls your body closer against her and you move to straddle her, lips never parting. Her breath hitches as you begin to grind against her, she grabs your hips to aid your movements.

Your lips part as you sit up, rhythmically moving your body on her creating friction of pleasure. The new position adding more pressure. You both breathe heavily as you now move back and forth faster, harder, her fingers digging into your hips and yours into her legs behind you. She gazes up at you admiring all of your beautiful features. You do the same admiring her golden beauty below you.

As your heavy breaths turn into whimpers and moans her hands wander slowly up and down your body. You both let out a long final moan as fireworks explode within your bodies. The whole khalasar able to hear but neither of you could find care in that moment.

With heavy breaths your lustful eyes meet once again. You both break into a small smile and giggle until her eyes turn heated once more. You gasp as she quickly grabs you and flips you over, laying on top of you. You moan as she boldly kisses your lips hard before moving down your neck and chest. She moves below your shirt and kisses down your stomach as her hands push up your skirts. Without hesitation she moves her mouth onto your core drawing a loud whimper from your throat. Your hands nestle into her golden hair as her tongue expertly licks your bundle of nerves. She slowly slips in her fingers causing a long groan from you. She moans against you at the way you tighten around her. Her tongue hits the perfect rhythm as her fingers move slowly in and out of you. You pant and moan as you begin to reach your second peak, grinding against her face. Her fingers suddenly speed up causing wave after wave of pleasure to hit you. You cry out her name before letting out a final heavy breath.

She gives a shy smirk as she moves back up and lands her lips on yours, tasting yourself on her tongue. You quickly push up her skirts and she yelps as you pull her onto your face. Before you’ve really even begun she already cries out, quickly hitting her own second peak as she rides out the wave of it against your mouth. She looks down at you with heavy eyes before plopping down on the bed beside you.

You lay face to face and give bashful smirks and giggles. She looks at you like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say.

“Goodnight Khaleesi.” You smile and brush her hair from her face.

“Goodnight (y/n).” She blushes and gives a soft smiles back.

You watch her quickly drift off to sleep before you follow right after. Khaleesi had the first peaceful sleep in a long time. No longer awakening to nightmares, but waking up to the relief of seeing your lovely face laying beside her.

[motherofdogs1010]

Solar Flare (Feyd-Rautha x Reader)

Summary: Chosen as the bride of na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, Y/N finds herself at the hands of the sadistic na-Baron who seems keen on having his bride on their wedding night...

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, arranged marriage, DUBCON/ pinv sex, fingering, loss of virginity, brief knife kink, small breeding kink, crude language, forced arranged marriage

A/N: I took inspiration from S1 GoT with Khal Drogo and Daenarys' relationship lol, can you tell I love that show?

Open to further parts in the future

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Geidi Prime was so different from her own world, one that was known for its windy, sunny atmosphere where nearly anything thrived in the fertile soil; she looked out the window of the bedroom she was in, seeing how the black sun of the planet truly blotted out any color. She could hear the hum of life within the ship as she awaited for her brother to summon her, to see if her fate would be sealed or not.

She wore a simple satin dress of a lavender shade, her hair loose and held back by two simple braids with some bells that hung from it as it was a fashion trend in her planet. Y/N sucked in a breath as she recalled her reason for being on Geidi Prime, that reason being that her brother was selling her off like a broodmare to the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

She had heard the rumors of Feyd-Rautha, the sadistic nature of the man and it made her tremble in fear as she thought about it.

Knock. Knock.

Turning her head, Y/N looked at the bedroom door, watching it slid open to reveal her handmaid, Illaria.

"Your brother is calling for you", she said, Y/N felt her hands go sweaty as she knew why he was calling her.

🌑

"Where is he?" her brother asked, inpatient.

They were outside their ship on the landing pad where Houses meet, the bright light from their ship fought back the black-white filter that the black sun gave. She stood slightly behind her brother as he grumbled, she knew he was doing this to gain more Spice, the man was addicted to it.

"The Harkonnens are not known for their puncuality", her brother's advisor, Minos replied.

Minos was an overweight man with a long beard that nearly went past his heavy stomach.

Y/N looked between the two men chatting before seeing the Harkonnens, her heart skipped a beat as Minos joyfully went to greet them; she saw the large, menacing figure of the Baron, how slumped in his floating seat he was. She saw all of their ghastly pale skin and hairless appearance that differed from the beauty standard of long, thick hair on her planet.

And it was then she saw him: Feyd-Rautha, he was similar to his kin with the white skin and bald head, dark eyes that were sinister and she swore she saw black teeth.

"Do you see him?" her brother whispered, gripping her arm. "Feyd-Rautha is the fiercest warrior in the universe, they say he's never been defeated in battle. Of course, he's a Harkonnen and a savage... but you're going to be his na-Baroness."

He chuckled just as Minos called out to her to join him where the House stood.

Slowly, she made her way to where Minos was and she saw Feyd locking eyes with her. When she got to where Minos was, he moved her a little in front of her just as Feyd walked up to her, staring down at her.

He had a lean figure, she noted as he stared at her with his black eyes and she saw his tongue lick his bottom lip as he stared. His skin was practically white from the planet and she saw he had a slightly protruding eyebrow bone but he was a handsome man, a psychotic man but handsome.

She stared into his ink-black eyes, the smell of the polluted air of the planet going into her nose as he stared back into her own E/C eyes. His eyes trailed her full figure, taking in her hair and appearance as they stared at one another for what felt like an eternity before he turned to his uncle and walking away with the others following behind.

Y/N felt herself let out a breath as she lived, he hadn't killed her.

"Wait! Did he like her?" her brother cried out, rushing to where they were.

Y/N blinked at the interaction as Minos said, "he liked her."

"How could you tell?"

"Trust me, Feyd Rautha makes it known when he does not like a woman."

"Well then, when is the wedding?" her brother asked, Minos looked at her.

"Soon", Minos said, Y/N felt dread at his answer.

Soon enough, the wedding to her Harkonnen groom came and it was an event. Fireworks were booming as in one of the many Grand Halls, drums were beat up as the music was loud as she sat near her now husband, who was taking pleasure in watching a fight between two men over a woman commenced. Y/N held back a grimace as she looked around and saw the table where the food was, she prayed that the meats on that table weren't human.

Minos mumbled that if there were no fights during a Harkonnen wedding, then it was not a wedding. The ceremony had been a brief one with the Baron, himself, officiating the ceremony and dark, throaty singing in the background as he talked of how she was now Feyd-Rautha's in body and mind, that her will was now his and her duty to produce heirs.

Feyd, himself, had been dressed in a black leather ceremonial suit that was fitted to his body while Y/N had been forced in an tight, silk dress that had slits on either side of her body, a deep cleavage bearing neck line and the veil she had been given to wear trailed behind her in a long train.

The maids that had gotten her ready had told her that Feyd had found her fuller figure appealing hence the dress and her hair hung down as she was also told her enjoyed that as well.

Y/N saw one of the attendees grab a rather bloody piece of dark meat from the table and she recalled the cannibalistic nature of Geidi Prime; the festivities proceeded before suddenly, Feyd stood up and she swallowed her spit as her breath got caught.

She had hoped he would turn to his concubines for the wedding but it seemed he truly wanted to consummate their marriage and Y/N felt her heart beating faster as the music, as everything stopped.

Feyd was waiting for her down the steps as everyone stared at her, she slowly got up as she felt her eyes want to water. He held a hand out and Y/N slowly walked down the steps, feeling the stares of everyone as she grasped his hand before letting out a small squeal as the man threw her over his shoulder without effort.

The room erupted into laughter and clapping, music picking up as Feyd walked around, carrying her around like she was some prized animal he hunted. The attendees were enjoying the show as Y/N felt a sense of humiliation before it was finally over and he walked them out of the hall.

It was silent with the exception of the fireworks.

"Are you frightened?"

His voice was raspy and Y/N swallowed, "N-No husband."

His footsteps echoed in the hall as his voice teased, "You should be, I could easily feed you to my pets and be done with it, wife."

Y/N blinked rapidly as tears welled up in her eyes, "I believe that would not be in your best interest."

She hadn't even realized they made it inside his bedroom until he tossed her onto a bed, she was surprised by the softness of the bed and the coolness of the sheets.

Feyd smirked at her as he stared down at her before climbing over her, a cold knife slid up against her cheek as she stared into his eyes.

"And why is that, my na-Baroness?"

"Are your pets worthy enough of bearing you a strong heir?"

He slid the knife down until it nicked her skin, a hiss of pain escaped her lips as Feyd stared at her.

"What makes you believe that you can carry my heir, hm?"

His thumb pressed on the cut, making the blood from the cut come out more before he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it off.

"You'll have to find out", she responded back.

Feyd smirked before crashing his lips on her, her eyes closed as a heat came up on her face as the hunger his kiss conveyed consumed her and she fisted his clothes as he dominated the kiss. She tried her best to kiss back before Feyd pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their mouths as Y/N panted.

"Your brother was right in his bragging, you truly have never had a man."

Feyd seemed proud in his statement as he used the knife to rip the bodice of her dress, exposing her breasts to him and he seemed pleased at their appearance as he brought his mouth down one of her buds, sucking on it harshly and sliding the knife over the other. The coldness of the knife made her nipple harden and the sensation of Feyd's mouth of her breast made her cunt begin to throb in a painful way and she felt a wetness begin.

She watched him toss the knife away as the hand that held the knife dove under her skirts, the Harkonnen man ripping and tear at the skirt with his hand as he fisted her panties before tearing them down her plump thighs.

Her heart was beating in her chest, she was experiencing so many emotions: fear... confusion... lust.

She felt his cold fingers probe at her cunt, a smirk coming on his face as he pushed her legs open before his swiped a finger through her lips; she felt a odd sensation, a throb of electricity go through her as he pressed a calloused thumb to her swollen clit and pushed two fingers into her hot, slick walls.

Y/N couldn't help but arch her back and her eyes flutter at the sensation of Feyd beginning to literally fuck his fingers into her, rubbing harsh circles on her clit that seemed to light her body on fire.

She clutched his shoulders as she cried out as she felt him massage his fingers into her as he chuckled.

"Such a little whore you are, wife", he rasped, "I haven't even shoved my cock into you and you're already mewling like a whore."

It was true, her toes where curling as she moaned and gasped.

"Wonder how you'll be once you have a cock in you."

🌑

Feyd was determined, Y/N would later conclude towards having her carry his heir was her legs had been thrown over the lean man's shoulders. He was pressing down hard into her, his hips brutally slapping into her as he let out these animalistic growls and groans.

She clung to him, fingers digging into his flesh as the pleasure that rocked through her body overwhelmed her.

The intrusion of his cock when it first entered her in one rough thrust had stung, tears had pricked her eyes for those brief moments of pain, but now it was tears of tears that rang down her round cheeks.

She panted and moaned, back arching, "Feyd!"

"Let everyone hear you", he demanded, "I want them to hear who you belong to."

She squealed as she felt another orgasm come over her, having lost count of the many he had already forced out of her body.

"I want them to hear who's heir is being bred into you."

[book-daenerys]

A list of Daenerys Targaryen's positive moments

i.e., scenes that highlight her kindness and/or compassion.

Ordered Jhogo and Quaro not to harm or kill Viserys (AGOT Dany III)

Begged Jorah not to tell Viserys he was being mocked by the Dothraki (AGOT Dany IV)

Pleaded with Khal Drogo (going so far as to use the "pillow tricks" Doreah taught her) to allow Viserys to rejoin them at the head of the column (AGOT Dany IV)

Asked Viserys not to call the Dothraki "savages" (AGOT Dany IV)

Prepared a meal and gifts (including fine clothing and a cloak) to Viserys to help him look more regal and earn the respect of the Dothraki (AGOT Dany IV)

Calmed Doreah with a touch and defended her from Viserys (AGOT Dany IV)

Asked Jorah to stop a drunk Viserys from provoking the Dothraki (AGOT Dany V)

Offered Viserys her dragon eggs and a seat beside her as long as he dropped the sword (AGOT Dany V)

Took on the task of translating Viserys's demands to Drogo to spare Jhiqui from harsh punishment (AGOT Dany V)

Purchased a fertility charm for Doreah and sought gifts for Irri and Jhiqui (AGOT Dany VI)

Found a stall selling sausages made with garlic and hot peppers and offered them to her handmaids and the men of her khas (AGOT Dany VI)

Took the Lhazareen women under her protection to shield them from sexual violence (AGOT Dany VII) (as George R. R. Martin puts it, "In the village of Lhazarene, Dany is appalled by the rape and slaughter that she’s seeing. […] Dany can’t enact the idea of “don’t take slaves”, but what she does there is saying “I’ll take the slaves. I’m the queen, all the slaves belong to me.” and in that way she can extend some protection over the women who were being raped.")

Ordered Qotho and others not to harm Mirri (AGOT Dany VII, AGOT Dany VIII)

Was determined to die for Drogo if necessary (AGOT Dany VIII)

Freed Drogo's slaves and offered them the choice to leave or join her khalasar as equals - "I see the faces of slaves. I free you. Take off your collars. Go if you wish, no one shall harm you. If you stay, it will be as brothers and sisters, husbands and wives. [...] To each of you I say, give me your hands and your hearts, and there will always be a place for you." (AGOT Dany X)

Resolved to be a source of strength for her people, suppressing her own fears and embracing her role as Drogo’s queen (ACOK Dany I)

Went without food and drink with the rest of her people while they crossed the Red Waste, refusing any special treatment for herself (ACOK Dany I)

Cared for Doreah as she succumbed to fever, providing her water, comfort, and support until she died, before allowing the khalasar to continue their journey (ACOK Dany I)

Ensured her people's basic needs for food and water were met in Vaes Tolorro (ACOK Dany I)

Tasked Rakharo and a group of men with pulling up the plaza in Vaes Tolorro to make the land fertile (ACOK Dany I)

Ordered Aggo to repair the gates of Vaes Tolorro to make sure she and her people were prepared for any potential threats (ACOK Dany I)

Tended Jorah's wound herself (ACOK Dany I)

Wanted to restore Jorah's home and honor (ACOK Dany I)

Wants to avoid destroying King's Landing, rule with compassion and create a beautiful, joyful kingdom where her people can thrive and welcome her as their queen (ACOK Dany II)

Acknowledged the need to train her growing dragons to avoid destruction (ACOK Dany III)

Diffused tension between Ser Jorah and Arstan by gently intervening and telling Jorah that no offense from Arstan's part was intended (ASOS Dany I)

Believes that "a queen must listen to all, the highborn and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal", that "a queen should hear all sides before reaching a decision" and that "a queen must listen to her people" (ASOS Dany I, ASOS Dany II, ADWD Dany VI)

Is horrified and visibly shaken by the brutal training methods of the Unsullied, especially the requirement to kill infants (ASOS Dany II)

Invited Arstan to join her in her litter, concerned for his well-being in the intense heat (ASOS Dany II)

Apologized to Irri for Drogon biting her hand and gently kissed the spot where Drogon left his marks (ASOS Dany II)

Is willing to kill her enemies, but refuses to harm innocents (ASOS Dany II)

Believes that kings and queens are meant to protect the vulnerable and deliver justice (ASOS Dany III)

Freed Missandei, eight thousand Unsullied, all the slave boys in training and all the other slaves in Astapor (ASOS Dany III)

Killed the slavers of Astapor and spared all children under twelve (ASOS Dany III)

Abolished the practice of giving the Unsullied new slave names every day, allowing them to return to their birth names or choose new ones (ASOS Dany IV)

Allowed the Unsullied to choose their officers (ASOS Dany IV)

Allowed all the freedmen to join her, even though they were a burden and couldn't fight, out of a sense of moral obligation (ASOS Dany IV)

Attacked the Yunkish slavers when they least expected it at night to spare the former slaves from heavy casualties (and it works: only about a dozen were killed) (ASOS Dany IV)

Was merciful to the Yunkish slavers and left Yunkai untouched (ASOS Dany IV)

Freed the slaves of Yunkai (ASOS Dany IV)

Offered mercy to sellswords or slaves who pledged loyalty to her (ASOS Dany IV)

Decided to conquer Meereen to secure food for her people and prevent them from starving along the march (ASOS Dany V)

Sent for a healer to ensure Strong Belwas's wound was properly cared for before proceeding with her council (ASOS Dany V)

Refused to risk the lives of her Unsullied in an attack on Meereen's gates where the Meereenese could use boiling oil to kill them (ASOS Dany V)

Engaged with the freedmen, allowing them to touch her for encouragement, listening to their requests, and even stopping to speak with a pregnant woman seeking her blessing for her child’s name (ASOS Dany V)

Ended slavery in Meereen (ASOS Dany VI)

Promised to take Missandei home someday (ASOS Dany VI)

Crucified 163 slavers in response to the slavers' crucifixion of 163 slave children (ASOS Dany VI) (some would disagree that this was a positive moment, but I believe it was because, in this feudal setting, it's uncommon for monarchs or nobles to care about commoners, let alone take action against those who mistreat them, so it does showcase her compassion towards the slave children. Also, Dany's real mistake was not killing enough slavers to neutralize their power to retaliate)

Hung murderers, amputated the hands of looters, and castrated rapists (ASOS Dany VI)

Rejected the luxurious harpy throne in favor of a simple ebony bench (ASOS Dany VI)

Forbade men to sell their wives and children, ensuring no one is forced into slavery (ASOS Dany VI)

Forgave Ser Barristan and spared Jorah's life despite his betrayal (ASOS Dany VI)

Decided to stay in Meereen and rule as its queen to protect the freedmen and prevent the city from falling back into chaos or slavery (ASOS Dany VI)

Took it upon herself to wake up in the middle of the night and personally see the body of Stalwart Shield, the first of her soldiers murdered by the Sons of the Harpy (ADWD Dany I)

Honored Stalwart Shield by closing his eyes, giving him a proper burial, vowing that he wouldn't be forgotten and naming a company of freedmen after him (ADWD Dany I, ADWD Dany II)

Had the Unsullied walk in pairs at night, then eventually ordered them to stop patrolling the streets of Meereen to prevent further assassinations (ADWD Dany I, ADWD Dany II)

Rejected Skahaz's suggestion to punish noble families indiscriminately and instead increased the reward for information about the Sons of the Harpy to a thousand honors (ADWD Dany I)

Was merciful to Reznak despite her suspicion that he might be one of the betrayers Quaithe warned her about because she acknowledges the treacherous nature of prophecies (ADWD Dany I, ADWD Dany II)

Sent her small khalasar, led by her bloodriders, to free slaves in the hinterlands and secure crops for Meereen’s market (ADWD Dany I, ADWD Dany V)

Sent Daario to negotiate with Lhazar, leading to an alliance that brought food and trade to Meereen (ADWD Dany I, ADWD Dany V)

Wanted to win the Meereenese nobility to bring peace to the city (ADWD Dany I)

Agreed to wear the tokar to be accepted as Meereen's queen, despite her initial desire to ban it (ADWD Dany I)

Didn't force the Meereenese to adopt her language, instead learned theirs and spoke to them in their own tongue, while also allowing them to continue using their language freely (ADWD Dany as a whole)

Refused to grant the slaver Grazdan any compensation from the freed weavers and instead ordered him to give the freed weavers a new loom for forgetting the name of the old slave woman who taught them (ADWD Dany I)

Ensured fairness by alternating between summoning former masters and freedmen for their petitions (ADWD Dany I)

Spared the life of a noble boy who tried to attack her after she denied his request for justice due to her pardon for crimes during Meereen's sack (ADWD Dany I)

Made a point of personally listening to the petitioners instead of delegating the responsibility to her advisors (ADWD Dany as a whole)

Dismissed Reznak's suggestion to scourge those who come to her with complaints about her dragons, saying that "no man should ever fear to come to me" and thinking many of the claims must be genuine (ADWD Dany I)

Paid the claimants for their lost animals, but required them to swear an oath at the Temple of the Graces in the future to ensure the validity of their claims (ADWD Dany I)

Locked Rhaegal and Viserion after Drogon ate Hazzea (ADWD Dany II)

Rejected Skahaz's advice to execute Hazzea's father or to rip out his tongue (ADWD Dany II)

Chose to pay the blood price for the death of Hazzea, offering the father a compensation and memorial while asking him never to tell what happened to anyone (ADWD Dany II)

Comforted Missandei after her brother died by inviting her to share her bed, offering to send Missandei home to Naath and expressing her desire to keep her safe (ADWD Dany II)

Balanced the demands of the craftsmen's guilds with the needs of the freedmen, deciding to allow only guild members to claim titles of journeyman or master, while ensuring the guilds accept skilled freedmen into their ranks (ADWD Dany II)

Replanted olive trees (ADWD Dany III)

Vowed to be the calamity that transforms the slavers back into people (ADWD Dany III)

Proposed a trade deal with Xaro, offering Meereen's salt and wine (ADWD Dany III)

Ordered the construction of a ditch to bring water to the fields for planting beans (ADWD Dany III)

Rejected Xaro's comparison between slavery and rain and passionately defended her belief that no one wants to be owned (ADWD Dany III)

Spared Ghael's life even after he spat in her face (ADWD Dany III)

Hugged and kissed Mezzara, one of her young hostages, to thank her for bringing her morning meal (ADWD Dany III)

Assembled a diverse council that included both nobles and freedmen, ensuring the latter held important roles in both her administration and her army (ADWD Dany III)

Refused Xaro’s offer to leave Meereen in exchange for ships (ADWD Dany III)

Chose not to kill her child hostages even after the Sons of the Harpy continued to murder freedmen at night despite Skahaz's protests (ADWD Dany IV)

Said she "would sooner perish fighting than return my children to bondage" (ADWD Dany IV)

Thinks she owes it to the freedmen who perished (Stalwart Shield, Mossador, Rylona Rhee) to marry in order to end the slaughter in Meereen (ADWD Dany IV)

Agreed to marry Hizdahr if he gave her ninety days without killings in Meereen and eventually fulfilled her promise (ADWD Dany IV, ADWD Dany VII)

Believes that "a queen belongs not to herself, but to her people" and "the realm" (ADWD Dany IV, ADWD Dany V, ADWD Dany IX)

Rejected Daario's suggestion to kill all the Great Masters during a wedding (ADWD Dany IV)

Rejected Groleo's suggestion to use her dragons against the Yunkish (ADWD Dany V)

Supports agriculture in Meereen by planting beans, grapes and wheat (ADWD Dany V)

Forbade Skahaz from torturing Hizdahr after realizing that torture doesn't bring reliable results (ADWD Dany V)

Rejected Skahaz's suggestion to seize the kin of ruling families in Meereen, choosing instead to trust Hizdahr and hope for peace (ADWD Dany V)

Ordered food to be brought to the first Astapori refugees who came to Meereen (ADWD Dany V)

Refused Ben Plumm's advice to use her dragons in battle (ADWD Dany V)

Corrected Ben by emphasizing that the people she feels responsible for are not mere "bad apples," but human beings who are sick, hungry, and afraid, seeing them as her children (ADWD Dany V)

Set up a camp and sent food and medical care for the Astapori refugees sick and dying of the bloody flux (ADWD Dany V, ADWD Dany VI)

Insisted on personally delivering food to the Astapori refugees, despite the risks, to show solidarity with her people and understand their suffering firsthand - "I will not turn away from them. A queen must know the sufferings of her people" (ADWD Dany VI)

Knelt beside an old man and bathed him on her own initiative (ADWD Dany VI)

Shamed her followers into helping her prepare and burn the dead, organizing the effort and working alongside them (ADWD Dany VI)

Allowed Grey Worm and the Unsullied to bathe in the salt sea after their work, respecting their faith and privacy regarding the true name of their goddess. (ADWD Dany VI)

Believes that "a queen loves where she must, not where she will" (ADWD Dany VII)

Ordered Daario to treat Quentyn with courtesy (ADWD Dany VII)

Refused Quentyn’s marriage offer because she didn’t want to abandon her people (ADWD Dany VII)

Ended her affair with Daario after marrying Hizdahr (ADWD Dany VII)

Reassured Quentyn when he was scared of her dragons, expressing understanding rather than mocking him for his fear (ADWD Dany VIII)

Warned Quentyn to leave her court for his own safety (ADWD Dany VIII)

Insisted that the leftover food from the feast was given to the poor (ADWD Dany VIII)

Remembers the people she lost (Doreah, Quaro, Eroeh, Hazzea) in an attempt to accept the deaths in the fighting pits as a necessary price for peace and to avoid greater bloodshed (ADWD Dany VIII)

Ensured that a collapsed palanquin bearer was moved off the street and provided with food and water (ADWD Dany IX)

Forbade children to participate in the combats at Daznak's Pit (ADWD Dany IX)

Refused to allow thieves or debtors to be sentenced to fight in the pits, only murderers, rapists and slavers (ADWD Dany IX)

Ensured only free men who chose to fight would be allowed in the arena (ADWD Dany IX)

Stopped Hizdahr's plan to have dwarfs (unbeknownst to her, Tyrion and Penny) fight three lions in the pits (ADWD Dany IX)

Flew Drogon away from Meereen and prevented further harm to her people (ADWD Dany IX)

Bonus: On the ADWD cover for Brazil, I [Marc Simonetti] put Daenerys at the top of the stairs of the Meereenese pyramid. I had undoubtedly been, unconsciously, influenced by the series. And George [R. R. Martin] told me that Daenerys wants equality for everyone, she wants to be at the same level as her people, so I had her climb down to keep it consistent.

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Title: Hearts of Fire

Daenerys Targeryen x reader X khal drogo(slightly)

---

The air was thick with the scent of blood and incense as the Dothraki gathered in the sacred tent, their voices rising in a cacophony of anticipation. At the center of it all stood Daenerys Targaryen, silver hair cascading over her shoulders, her violet eyes set with steely determination. Beside her, you stood just as resolute, your fingers intertwined with hers as you both faced the daunting task ahead. This was a ritual meant to prove strength, resilience, and the power of life growing within Daenerys. But the Khaleesi was not alone, for you had bound your fate to hers long before the Dothraki had ever known either of your names.

When Khal Drogo had chosen Daenerys as his Khaleesi, you had been a part of the bargain, an unconventional condition that neither he nor his people had expected. The blood of the dragon burned hot in both of your veins, and your love for each other was as fierce as the flames that had birthed you. Drogo had seen the fire in your eyes, the unwavering loyalty you held for Daenerys, and had accepted the challenge of marrying not just a dragon, but two.

Now, the Dosh Khaleen—the ancient crones who led the ceremony—looked on with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. No other Khaleesi had ever brought her heart-bound to this ritual. But this was not just any Khaleesi, and you were not just any woman.

As the crones brought forth the raw, bleeding heart of the stallion, the murmurs of the Dothraki quieted. The heart was massive, still warm, and the scent of fresh blood filled your nostrils. It was a symbol of the life growing within Daenerys, the life of the stallion who would mount the world. But for you, it was also a symbol of the bond you shared with her, the unbreakable connection that had brought you both to this moment.

Daenerys took a deep breath, her grip on your hand tightening as she stepped forward. You could feel her fear, her determination, and you gave her a reassuring squeeze in return.

"We do this together," you whispered, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Together," she repeated, her voice a vow as strong as any oath.

The Dosh Khaleen began their chant, an ancient and haunting melody that echoed through the tent. Daenerys raised the heart to her lips, taking the first bite with a grimace that she quickly hid. The taste was foul, the texture tough and chewy, but she forced herself to chew and swallow, her eyes flicking to you for strength. You stepped closer, your free hand brushing a strand of her hair away from her face as she continued to eat, each bite a struggle.

When the time came for you to join her, you did so without hesitation. The Dothraki watched with bated breath as you bit into the heart, the taste just as revolting as you had imagined. But you didn't falter. The blood of the dragon did not yield. You would not falter.

The ritual was gruesome, the task daunting, but together, you and Daenerys persevered. Bite after bite, the heart began to disappear, the blood staining both your lips and hers, a symbol of the shared strength and love that had brought you to this point.

As the heart was finally consumed, a hush fell over the tent. Daenerys swayed on her feet, but you were there to steady her, your arms wrapping around her waist as she leaned into you, exhausted but victorious. The Dothraki began to chant her name, their voices rising in a roar of approval. The stallion who mounts the world had been proven, and the Khaleesi had shown her strength. But as you held her close, you knew that the real victory was not just hers, but yours as well.

Khal Drogo stepped forward, his dark eyes locking onto yours and Daenerys's. There was a fierce pride in his gaze, a recognition of the bond you both shared. He placed a hand on Daenerys's shoulder, then on yours, a silent acknowledgment of the strength you both possessed.

"You are both my Khaleesi," he declared in his deep, resonant voice, the words carrying a weight that the Dothraki understood. It was unprecedented, a union of three, bound not just by tradition but by love, respect, and fire.

As the ceremony came to an end, the Dothraki began to disperse, their excitement turning to celebration. You and Daenerys remained in the tent, the tension of the ritual finally giving way to relief. She turned to you, her violet eyes softening as she reached up to cup your face, her thumb brushing away a smear of blood on your cheek.

"You were incredible," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "I couldn't have done this without you."

You smiled, leaning into her touch, your heart swelling with love. "Neither could I, my love."

The two of you stood there for a moment, lost in each other, the world outside forgotten. In that instant, it didn't matter that you were in a foreign land, surrounded by people who still didn't fully understand your bond. All that mattered was that you had each other, that you were stronger together than apart.

As the sounds of celebration grew louder outside, you and Daenerys shared a kiss, the taste of blood still lingering on your lips, a reminder of the ritual you had just endured. It was a kiss filled with promise, with the fire of dragons, and with the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

Together, you would conquer, you would rule, and you would love, bound by fire and blood, forever.

Request anytime 😊

[esther-dot]

I mean it's worth mentioning that Mirri exploited the grief of a fourteen-year-old girl, one who attempted to save and protect her, taking both her husband and her child (and therefore her security and stability in the society she was still pretty new to, as well as getting a lot of the slaves Dany saved from worse fates killed) in the process. I'd probably kill someone for that too. And if I knew I'd get a dragon out of it? Fuck that bitch if I can't have my son I'm having a dragon.

Like yeah it's not great but per the moral standards of this series Dany is pretty good

I've already explained, Mirri didn't kill Drogo, and Dany knows Mirri didn't kill Rhaego.

As for Dany's age meaning she isn't responsible for her actions:

"Unsullied!" Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. "Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see." She raised the harpy's fingers in the air . . . and then she flung the scourge aside. "Freedom!" she sang out. "Dracarys! Dracarys!" (ASOS, Daenerys III)

Dany ordered her men to kill kids younger than that.

And Dany "saved" Mirri? They burned and murdered and pillaged and raped throughout her village. Dany thinks of it all as the cost of the throne ie Dany's ambition demands it. You don't have to agree with each POV, every thought they have. Sometimes you are meant to judge them. Listen to Mirri's perspective on being saved:

"I spoke for you," she said, anguished. "I saved you." "Saved me?" The Lhazareen woman spat. "Three riders had taken me, not as a man takes a woman but from behind, as a dog takes a bitch. The fourth was in me when you rode past. How then did you save me? I saw my god's house burn, where I had healed good men beyond counting. My home they burned as well, and in the street I saw piles of heads. I saw the head of a baker who made my bread. I saw the head of a boy I had saved from deadeye fever, only three moons past. I heard children crying as the riders drove them off with their whips. Tell me again what you saved." "Your life." Mirri Maz Duur laughed cruelly. "Look to your khal and see what life is worth, when all the rest is gone."(AGOT, Daenerys IX)

And then what does Dany do? She takes Mirri's life.

"You will not hear me scream," Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing. "I will," Dany said, "but it is not your screams I want, only your life. (AGOT, Daenerys X)

Dany didn't save anything. She took. She repeatedly benefits from other people's suffering.

You can convince yourself to be cool with this, but the author isn't. He didn’t intend for audiences to work themselves into moral pretzels to avoid condemning Dany or realize where her story is going.

Here is what he said of some famous Dany essays:

And here are some quotes about Dany from those essays:

(link)

This is not a hero.

[targaryenluvs]

SEE YOU AGAIN

pairings: robb stark x fem!targaryen!reader, platonic!stark family x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: i had only two drafts and this was one of them!! might just get back into got/hotd writing! god this was written a while ago

Within an hour you wound up being introduced to the entire Stark family. You especially liked Ayra, she reminded you of Rhaenyra in certain aspects such as her rebellious behaviour. Although you did have to cover your head with a scarf for the most part, your violet eyes were quite hard to miss. You chalked it up to a birth defect and were introduced as a maiden of the Red Keep, returning home for marriage but also a friend of the Eldest three children.

You yourself had never visited the North before, as your parents had deemed it unworthy of being visited by a Princess. But you found yourself growing fond of the place despite its cold nature.

You had also found Nyraxes huddled in front of a bonfire in a near by cave. Surprisingly she hadn’t torched the entire area and it’s inhabitants. You had wondered how the Starks had managed to tame a dragon.

But at the moment you were more concerned about getting home. As nice as it was to be in the area, you found yourself surprisingly longing for the Red Keep. Currently you found yourself dining with the family, the food seemed foreign, scarcely containing any notable fruit or vegetables but Jon had explained the lack of crop in such harsh times, which you understood. You felt uncomfortable, out of place.

Everyone chatted so freely, everyone knew each other where as you were an outsider in every way. Your gorgeous purple eyes in contrast to the ever so common brown and black, bright, striking silver hair which was no longer covered, compared to red and brown.

“Y/n, who are you marrying my dear?” Catelyn questioned you as the entire table diverted their gaze to you. Your face became hot, especially under Robb’s sharp gaze. “Yes Y/n, who are you betrothed to?” You felt like ripping him a new one, perhaps feeding him to Nyra.

“I’ve returned home for my parents, we’re heading up to Casterly Rock for the wedding, he’s a lord but I doubt you would know of him your grace.” Laughs bellowed out around you, Robb loudest of all.

“Your grace?” Robb cried out. “Hush you all. She has decorum and respect unlike most, why mock her for it? My dear, please, call me Catelyn.”

You nodded.

Ed and Catelyn still didn’t know of your real name, nor your lineage/descent. That much they may have been able to get their heads around but you weren’t so sure they would have opened up their castle to you quite so swiftly if they knew of the, as most royals and small folk would claim, “Beast” in the caves.

You sat at your windowsill looking out onto the courtyard as a someone knocked on your door. “You alright if I come in love?” You allowed him in. “Not the view your used to?” You nodded, “I wish to go home Robb. But if what you say is true how can I? All the Targaryens are gone. My Aemond, ended up dead in battle Above the Gods Eye along with my Uncle Daemon. Aegon, Helaena, Her children, Otto, Rhaenyra, Nyra, Jace, Luke everyone. In the history books and life I am forever known as the Princess who Hid. A coward.” You cried as he sat down and hugged you.

As he soothed you Robb slowly raised you face to him, as he wiped away your tears. “Not everyone.” Your head shot up, “What?” You croaked, “I didn’t finish the book my love. Aenys the mad King has two surviving children. Daenerys and Viserys. Although Viserys passed away a long time ago.”

“A-and Daenerys?” “Alive, and well as it seems. She’s been wed to Khal Drogo seemingly pregnant too as it seems.” Robb swiped a stray hair behind your ear as he leaned in, so did you.

-

You woke up the next morning after Robb as his side of the bed was seemingly empty. You prayed to the old gods and new that no one had heard the two of you yesterday. And if they did that they wouldn’t mention anything it. Everyone had broke their fast earlier on in the day as you had slept longer than usual. You weren’t use to having such lengthy nights of rest but were more than grateful.

After dressing you walked the halls with Arya for a bit before making your way to the courtyard where everyone seemed to have gathered for something, it wasn’t long before Sansa pulled you in front of all the people where the reason for the spectacle (rather reasons) came into view.

Robb was laughing loudly before Jon attacked, blade in hand. Robb swiftly moved to the side away from Jon and used his blade to propel Jon forwards again. As Jon fell Robb raised his sword to his neck.

“And you’re dead.”

Jon laughed, “Perhaps you should become a knight brother.”

They’re laughter stopped as you stepped out, fully dressed in your old clothes and determined. “I take it you’re planning on leaving now?” You smiled and nodded, “I appreciate your hospitality Robb, Jon. But if I do have surviving family than I must go to them. Thank you, truly.” You spoke as you walked past them, as much as you wished to stay longer you knew you’re descendants needed your help.

So as you mounted your Nyraxes, you couldn’t help but look back at him.

Maybe, you’d see him again.

[themotherofhorses]

about.

vic | she/her | 20s

southwestern native american and hispanic

gemini | bi-demi

ao3 | spotify

All Content 18+ | minors DNI

all my fanfics can be read below in my masterlist or found under my "vic writers 🧸" tag.

happy readings <333

Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty)

“There he is …. Simon Riley.”

multi-chapter series:

paloma (masterlist)

a multi-chapter series exploring the love story between a british sas lieutenant and his indigenous woman.

one-shots:

(to be added)

drabbles:

love at first sight w simon

holding simon while he cries

Aemond Targaryen (House of the Dragon)

"...Prince Aemond, despite the loss of his eye, had become a proficient and dangerous swordsman under the tutelage of Ser Criston Cole, but remained a willful child, hot-tempered and unforgiving..."

multi-chapter series:

last of her house no more (masterlist)

aemond targaryen with the daughter of daenerys stormborn and khal drogo.

just like animals (masterlist)

a dark & obsessive!aemond targaryen hunting down his sweet modern!wife (and also she’s preggos).

his handmaid's tales (masterlist)

the love story between prince aemond and his handmaid.

one-shots:

blood is thicker than water (but betrayal stains the most)

requests:

even the whales fall prey to men

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

bodyguard!aemond x president’s daughter!reader

drabbles:

foolish men dream foolish lives

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

obsessive!aemond targaryen with niece!reader

an eye for an eye (1) — a son for a son (2)

Alys Rivers (House of the Dragon)

"...Was she, in truth, a witch who lay with demons, bringing forth dead children as payment for the knowledge they gave her?"

one-shots:

mother's day special (part of "his handmaid's tales")

bewitched

drabbles:

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

[novaursa]

Khal Drogo Masterlist

main list

- Savage Crown - Khal Drogo comes to see Daenerys, as your brother and Illyrio arrange. But it is not your younger sister that drew his attention, it was you. - mature 16+

[writeshite]

Haggo: "It's a bad idea--"

Qotho and Cohollo: "Yeah, yeah, we know..."

Reader: *walks past wearing the most Fuck Me outfit imaginable, slipping into his tent with a playful look over his shoulder*

Haggo: "...I mean, what the Khal doesn't know can't hurt us--"

Drogo elsewhere: Why do I feel angry all of a sudden?

[greycloudsinwinter]

Hi could I request romantic yandere khal drogo x gender neutral reader headcanons please and could you make reader the brother/sister of Daenerys and Viserys. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

YANDERE KHAL DROGO X TARGERYAN READER

⚔️you were the brother / sister of daenerys and viserys targeryan . It was said your beauty could enchant men and women . However no one believed it was true until they see you .

⚔️when khal drogo came to look at Daenerys and he saw you he felt he had been cheated with this deal. He wanted the most beautiful spouse he wanted someone that others would die just to get close to. Daenerys was beautiful he will give her that but she was nothing compared to you .

⚔️so he started to renegotiate with viserys, of course viserys couldn’t afford to be picky so he reluctantly agreed that you would be khal drogos wife instead. He was pleased with that answer and left.

⚔️ever since then he was cursed of only thinking of you everything about you to your head and your toes.

⚔️once you were married he was over the moon with joy. He had what he wanted he didn’t care about viserys greed or anything like that no all he thought was you.

⚔️he gifted you the finest gems and horses trying to prove his devotion and love to you.

⚔️ rejected him it won’t matter you can’t speak his language and he can’t speak yours. But if you tried to learn his he will shake your rejection off as someone tried to trick you in what you were saying . And the teacher who taught you had there tongue cut out.

⚔️rivals he doesn’t have any really since he is in charge of everyone but if he ever did he would be painfully slow killing them wanting to make them suffer.

⚔️if you want the iron throne he will give it to you but he wants you to repay him with your really love not your fake love.

⚔️he wants kids bad and if you do have them , he is under your thumb forever. If you simply can’t have kids he is more then happy to take in children who’s parents have died and look after them as his own.

⚔️he wants you too feel how he feels in all honesty for instance if you wish to die he must die with you … it’s a very complicated love

⚔️if you get a dragon he will most likely kill it if he can but if he can’t he will step on egg shells near you he doesn’t want to die or you to leave him.

⚔️if viserys wanted to marry you and tried to take you from khal drogo he will get the boiling gold crown.

⚔️he is a delusion and devoted yandere to have.

⚔️ overall maybe in the middle of your on his good side he will treat you like a god /goddess if you are still resisting him he won’t care he will just ignore your pleas.

Thank you so much for this request ❤️❤️