#modern shireen

[daenystheedreamer]

stannis baratheon single after the divorce, wife takes everything in the divorce (good for her, she's gonna spend it on her new younger gf and her new religious mlm), now spending all his time at work. living in his friend davos' spare room. davos angrily goes "shireen needs a father!!!" wake up call. starts watching youtube tutorials on crochet and minecraft and baking and makeup to bond with his daughter. shireen mentions chappell roan and davos finds stannis stone cold silent listening to GOOD LUCK BABE on shitty wire headphones. takes time off to make loom band bracelets with shireen at the park. wears her homemade beanies ("daddy your bald head will get cold") when he picks her up from school.

[ophelias-lamentation]

Modeling AU

Shireen, Arya, and Daenerys in a throwback photo shoot for the magazine ‘Highgarden’

[wpmorse]

A Baratheon Family Christmas

It started with assuming that a Baratheon family Christmas would be pretty awful. Even before Robert and Renly died. Next came thinking how ridiculous Stannis would look in a paper hat and holiday sweater. And finally realizing of COURSE Melisandre would do the plum pudding.

Besides, I wanted to do something for the holiday.

It's a little rushed but I think it came out okay. I threw Davos and Daven in the background to fill in some empty space.

I hope you all have a very Happy Christmas.

[tell-them-the-north-remembers]

To write a Jonsa fic or not to write a Jonsa fic, that is the question.

[skypalacearchitect]

#he shows her his favorite bands they both love olivia rodrigo

(a commission to @post-ironicweaboo)

shireen and his (distant) edgy cousin, aegon. or young griff.

find me on my other social media! dA/twitter/instagram: @bigwolfart

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

A Snowy Wolf Pup

Paring: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 5.2k

Warnings: mild angst, reference to past abusive relationship, implied stalking, lots of fluff

Notes: Just a little flash forward holiday drabble for the modern!au, I'm sorry it's so short. Previous Main Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Catelyn wrapped her cardigan around her tighter as she descended the stairs. The morning was cold, and it seemed overnight as if a very light sprinkle of snow had turned into a heavy snowfall that now covered the property. As she had passed down the second floor, she knew her children would all still be fast asleep this early. It was rare southern holidays and northern holidays matched up, but there was one week in the peak of approaching winter that did it. And for a house which followed both faiths, it was a busy week with many late nights for her children.

Only noticing one specific bedroom door left slightly open and empty looking, she narrowed her brows as she realized now four people in the house were awake and yet there wasn’t a sound to indicate where they were. Though, already finding the kitchen having been in use, it was clear despite the early hour those four had been awake for some time. Not bothering to search far yet, she only begun preparing coffee when the front door opened.

Her eyes trailing over only to be greeted by Ned as he put something on the smaller table off to the side of the kitchen. A fond smile coming over her as she shook her head, “Every year I believe more and more you can sense when it snows in your sleep.” A deep chuckle left him, passing her by but not before leaving a kiss to the back of her head to grab a mug of his own. Bringing up your name she only asked in a casual manner, “Was she and the others already awake at whatever hour you woke up?”

Ned had a fond smile as he gestured his head somewhat to the other side of the house for her to take a look. Outside passed the glass door leading to the porch was even more heavy snow, but this one unlike the view from her bedroom window of the clear front year, the back was not so left pristine.

Four figures were outside, and from the looks of it, you all had been for some time now.

Kneeling down, your face was twisted into a playful frustration as you were in a fight of your life to keep the toy rope. Ghost was braced in front of you with a deep growl as he tried to pull back on the toy as you did the same against him. It had turned into a game of who would pull the other into the snow, and Ghost was happy to indulge. His fur made him look almost blending into the snow around you even as it continued to fall, save for his red eyes. You amusingly knew any else would feel fear at a direwolf growling as it tried to tear something from your grip, but you knew if you simply let go and gave up now, Ghost would stop and whine for you to keep playing.

It wasn’t the only sounds though. If you looked further down the backyard, you could see two mops of inky black curls, only one much shorter to the ground, as both attempted to make a snow castle.

Even now it never failed to astound you how quickly little Eddard had started to look exactly like his father. He had your green eyes, but everything else around him was so distinctly Jon and watching them side by side now was only ever more prominent. His hair was growing very quickly, quicker then you could recall Shireens hair at just a little over one year old. Just another thing he got from Jon, luckily. All of the best genes coming from his father.

Little Eddard had seen snow before, but only light flakes and sprinklings that typically covered thin across the grass in the morning and melted by the evening. This was the first time a true snowfall happened since he was born, and the moment he saw it as he woke up he wanted to go outside, and neither of you could bear to deny him that.

Jon had jested that he was only behaving long enough to eat breakfast because you were there, but even then the little one fidgeted in his highchair as his wide, bright eyes kept looking to the kitchen window where he could still see fat snowflakes falling down in droves.

Still barley able to walk, Jon had stayed close with him the moment you put him down onto the ground as he begun to excitedly crawl through the snow. Father and son now building a snow castle, you could somewhat hear Jons deep rasp even from here explaining that their home used to be a castle. Asking his son ideas on what it looked like. Never getting even slightly impatient as he got too excited and knocked down some of the towers trying to help. Jon could get him to giggle each time instead of little Eddard wanting to say sorry, “I don’t think that looked right either.” He would say whenever the wide look came on Eddards face as if to say sorry.

They hadn’t make significant progress for how long you both had been out here, but you were fine with that. Before now, you had just been sitting back and watching them as you ran your gloved hand over Ghosts fur before he too got rowdy. Running to the other side of the yard only to come back with rope in his mouth and you read his intent clearly. Not noticing the sound of the glass door sliding open and shut, or spotting as Ned leaned against the banister along the porch steps watching with a fondness at the sight.

Sensing Ghost gaining the upper hand, you tried to lean back a bit more better leverage. Only, a grand mistake was made, guessing incorrectly at how stable of a position you already were in and the moment Ghost tugged the rope once more, did it slide from your gloves grasp. The direwolf celebrating in victory didn’t even keep it, barking loudly and playfully before all but tackling you to the ground trying to lick your face. A laugh came over you, making breathing a struggle let alone getting the large, heavy canine off of you.

The commotion had grabbed Jon and little Eddards attention, Jon knowing Ghost was only playing grinned at the sight, but his son was one, and didn’t quite understand. His voice high pitched and worried sounding did your head turn to the side as did Ghosts at the sound of little Eddard shouting “Mama,”

Flopping more onto the ground, he immediately tried to crawl over as if to push the direwolf off you himself, but Jon had a better idea it seemed. Calling over, “Ghost, ease up.” Did the direwolf give you space again as you pushed up to pet him, muttering what a trouble maker he was. Only for little Eddard to shout again, frustrated at crawling was going to make it so far away. Quickly kneeling over to the not so far his son had gotten, Jon gently grabbed him and helped stand him up, Eddards face twisted upset as he pointed at you. His eyes screaming the message that said you needed help.

But Jon held him gently on his two feet, a warmth in his voice as he muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “How about you show your mother how much we’ve been practising, yeah?” Looking over at him with wide eyes, Jon pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling back. “You’ll make her so proud if you walk over to save her life.”

That did little Eddard in. Jon knew possibly more then you did, how much your son wanted to do things like a grown up to make you proud. You were proud no matter what, but he always wanted to do things for you much like Jon. His hand coming up to his mouth almost in a nervous habit as he looked between you and Jon at the distance he’d have to walk on those waddling little legs. But Jon nodded, not yet taking his hands away so he felt the support. You pushed up, not standing but more laying half way across the ground so you could stand up easily at any time, but upright that your son understood you wanted him to come to you.

Jon learned he was more eager to learn to walk if Jon was there to do the encouraging, and the prize for walking a certain distance was to walk over into your arms, but this was the longest he’d have to try yet to make it. Nodding at Jon, it was all up to him now to start walking. Jons eyes gazed up passed you, spotting his father watching from the porch before letting his gaze turn back to his son. One last whisper for now only him to hear, “Don’t be scared if you can’t walk the whole way, your mother will be proud that you even tried.”

Nodding back at him, did he finally start to move. He took his time, waddling along and the snow didn’t help much with quickness. But perhaps it did his balance, having to focus a lot more to wade through it then walk without obstacle. Pushing now more up to sit on your heels with your hands waiting on your thighs, you watched little Eddard as intently as he watched you. Not wanting to look at his feet but make it to you no matter what.

If you were to ask him, this was the most perilous adventure, the highest of stakes he had ever faced in his short life. It was perhaps a little over five feet of a distance, but he was so small it looked double that in distance. Jon stayed crouched as he watched you both, his eyes flickering up once more to glance at his own father watching. He could read the signs that he wanted to speak to Jon about something but was waiting until this moment played out. Sometimes it intimidated him, wondering if his father was judging his own skills as a father, but if he only focused back on you both then he could ignore it for if only right now.

Closer and closer little Eddard waddled over, clearly growing tired and your own view could tell he was getting upset that he might not make it. Looking up at Jon, he read you as if you had asked him outloud. A smile and a nod, you leaned forward a little bit, prompting him to speed up as you let your arms hold out to entice him. “Come on, sweet boy, just a few steps more.”

A sound came from him, both you and Jon knew it too well. If he fell now and didn’t get to you, he might cry. Your poor son, only twelve months old put so much pressure on himself to do things for you and make you proud even though all he really wanted was to cuddle in your arms. Watching him speed up, your eyes trailed how much his feet were dragging.

Moving the second you knew he was going to trip, you pushed yourself forward just enough so that little Eddard fell into your own arms. A loud gasp coming from you, and truly, barley having to exaggerate in the slightest as you picked him up. Standing upright, you held him in the air a bit from you in a celebration, giggling right away as his hands tried wacking at you wanting to be held closer. Pulling him into your arms, close, you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he cuddled close right away. Shifting so you held him more by your side so you could run a free hand over his thick curls he asked with bright eyes, “Mama?” He never said many words at once, but you could read him perfectly, his bright eyes were actually asking you if he did it.

A soft smile came over you, pulling him back to kiss the top of his head again before pulling back, “Yes you did, sweet boy.” Spotting as Jon came over, a hand running over little Eddards curls he muttered that he would be right back, nodding behind you. Half turning to see Ned standing and watching, before turning back. “Take your time.”

Instantly you carried little Eddard over to the snow castle, sitting him down as Ghost came up to his other side while you knelt there, asking him questions about his work so far, which he happily babbled some words, and mostly nonsense about what was what.

Jon approaching the steps gave his father a look to ask what was it, only to feel a concern rise in him as he only nodded towards the house. “I’ll show you.” Both kicking snow off their boots before taking them off, as if sensing Catelyn ready to round the corner telling them not to get the floor dirty and wet again. It sat on the couch nearby, a small wrapped gift with a card on top. Unopened, as Ned specified it came that way. “I haven’t opened it yet, I thought it was best if you were here to see it too.”

That feeling increased, first picking up the card he read in silence. Knowing his face gave it away when Jon put it together, who had sent this. An anger rose in his body, warming his blood as he felt himself, muscles and jaw tense up. “How?” Looking over to Ned, “How can he be allowed to send this when-”

Cutting him off, Ned already knew what Jon was going to ask. “All the information was sent through his father, so on paper it doesn’t appear as if he sent it. And there was no restriction for him not being allowed to speak to her.”

Low and cutting an edge, Jon felt no need to hide how he felt about this. His father knew too well that anger. “So he cheats, and finds a way to send something to her. Why?” If Jon looked more to the side he’d be able to see you and his son with bright smiles as you guided his hands around working on the castle yourselves. Out of all the time, his son had just reached his first nameday too. If his jaw could break from the force which he was clenching it tightly, it would’ve.

Helped no further by his fathers answer. “I don’t think it’s meant for her. He knows she lives here now with us, and we wouldn’t let her get a gift from him this way. I think he meant it for you.” The unspoken was understood between them, it was meant as a mock, whatever this was in the gift. The card already was barley anything, a lament about missing you and how much you’ve changed since you last saw each other since there was no chance he had not heard the news a year after you gave birth.

Slowly putting the card down, his eyes darkening did Jon pull at the ribbon keeping the modestly wrapped gift sealed. Every step as he did so felt it took ages, trying to contain whatever it was he’d find only to not be impressed. In fact, Jon could feel himself shake at his audacity. Ned leaned over and he could hear his father exhale roughly, knowing he matched in emotion. The rage in Jon made him want to drive to the Dreadfort now and do what he should’ve done the day they all saw you with a black eye.

A tiny pair of shoes. That’s all it was. A card for you, a gift for your son and all of the audacity of Ramsay Bolton to mock Jon by reaching out to you this time of year. He didn’t touch nor pick them up in any way, staring at them before all but roughly slamming the lid back onto the box. Looking at his father, a darker look shining in his own, both quiet wolves understood that this better be Ramsay’s only trick otherwise it would get very difficult to hold Jon back. “Don’t show this to her.” Both knew he meant you. “I don’t care what you do with it, but I don’t want her knowing he sent this, any of this. It’ll only upset her.”

Picking it up, the timing was lucky beyond belief as Ned just walked out of sight when he heard it. A hand running over his mouth trying to bring himself back down, did Jon hear the sliding door open and close. He loved how you looked. Snow still fresh in your hair as you held your son in your arms, snow in his curls that matched Jons. Only little Eddard was snuggled close to you with an adoring look he was fully aware Jon gave you all the time. Clearing his throat, he hoped you wouldn’t pick up on any of the tension he tried to now shake off.

Forcing himself to move to you as you carefully stepped out of your own boots Jon approached looking at his son. “Too cold, pup?” His son shook his head adamantly with a more serious, stern look on his face. “No?”

Little Eddard looked over at you, “Mama cold.” Your eyes closed for a moment as you huffed out a bemused sigh. Looking back with a playfully narrow eyed look, you muttered that you were fine staying out there as long as he wished, but little Eddard was not having it. “No.” Turning to look at Jon, and you must have known your word would lose against both of you. “Daddy. Mama cold.”

Looking you over, there was a shiver about you that begged to warm up, running a hand along your neck to cup your cheek, his hand inside from the warmth seeped into your cold skin as you leaned somewhat into his touch. Stepping close, Jon tilted your head better to look up at him, watching your eyes yet flutter closed as he leaned in. Letting his nose gently trace down the bridge of yours as he rasped, “You feel cold.” Opening your mouth to protest, Jon grinned. Sliding the hand on your cheek around to behind your neck, he pulled you forward more to press his lips to your forehead before resting his against yours. “Sorry, darling. You’ve been outvoted.”

Sighing deeply, you looked between them. “Honestly you two baby me,” turning specifically to little Eddard with a grin, “More then I baby you.” Leaning in very close it made him try to back away with a giggle before you matched Jons actions to you but to the baby, kissing his forehead. “Come on, let’s get you changed to something warm instead of this.”

Sometimes Jon had an urge to tell you that you should put him down and let him crawl when at least you both were here on the carpeted part of the house, but he struggled too. Telling you to put him down felt mean, it felt controlling even though he had heard Ned and Catelyn tell you that. But little Eddard snuggling into your arms, it felt unfair to deprive him of being so close to his mother, something Jon knew he never had. But too, it was the sight for him. The love of his life carrying the son you created together in your arms, it was something Jon would never get tired of, and he knew it.

You has gotten little Eddard changed into warmer clothes by the time he joined you both upstairs. Kneeling in front of the bed where you had him sitting, you were running a towel over his curls to dry them. “You can say you enjoy the cold all you like, until the day you get sick being out there for so long.”

Little Eddard shook his head, you simply working around him moving on you without bothering to gently tell him to sit still for you. Hearing his footsteps approach, you half turned to look up at him in time for Jon to sit gently on the bed beside his son, picking him up and sitting him cozy in his lap now as he looked down at him. Your own position not having changed, Jons eyes narrowed at you playfully. “What?”

Glancing to his hair and back, you knew the snow had much like in his sons curls, had begun to melt. Instead of saying a word, you pushed yourself upward, sighing as you climb behind both of them on the bed, kneeling being Jon as you didn’t bother saying a word as you gently ran the towel over him as well before water dripped all over the sheets.

A small giggle could be heard from in front of Jon, as well as is voice low and playful, “Whats so funny?” Little Eddard didn’t respond from what you could hear, but a giggle did get let out and almost a sort of yell to make him stop, Jon no doubt tickling him for laughing at him. As you leaned back on your heels, folding the towel before you bothered moving to get up, Jon turned halfway to look at you. “He gets this from you.”

About to gently place it on the side table, you turned back with your mouth partially open. Half blindly tossing it now as you moved back, your voice slightly raised as he could surely detect. “From me? If I’m not mistaken, I’m the one who when we were children, you kept referring to as a goody two shoes.” Only muttering with a smirk that he changed his mind, you mockingly huffed. Attempting to move up off the bed, only for Jon to move quicker.

Picking up the baby in one hand, holding him high on his chest as his other snatched at the edge of your sweater and yanked. Pulling you back into his lap with you giving out a small yelp, before landing in his warmth, and your son giggling endlessly. Instead of addressing Jon, you turned to the little one. Cupping both his cheeks gently you kissed his forehead and nose, muttering lowly but with a playful smile, “I think this is proof where you get being so silly from after all.” Pressing one more kiss to each of his cheeks as he giggled. Grabbing gently at your hair so you wouldn’t back away.

Jon didn’t bother trying to stop him, instead he only shifted on the bed enough so that you could rest against him more comfortably as he moved little Eddard to be more carried by you. The baby’s very small hand now clutching your loose hair as he held it close to his mouth, something he had done since nearly the first few days we was born. A sort of soothing act Maester Luwin had said it was, like one would clutch a stuffed animal or toy, but with something much closer to his mother.

Holding him closer, Eddard snuggled more into your shoulder. Jon ran his hand gentle through inky black locks that so closely resembled his, as the thought turned to words slipping from your mouth quietly before you could stop him. “At least he looks like you.” Jon hummed a question, your own head leaning back slightly into his, feeling Jon almost nuzzle into your hair as his son snuggled his face more into your neck and shoulder, all the action of the morning catching up to his small stature. “Eddard. At least if he’s like me, he looks just like you.”

Sighing into your hair, Jon pressed his lips to where they merely sat, as his other hand ran up and down your waist. “What does that mean? At least he looks like me?”

You didn’t say it with malice, nor insecurity or judgment, but perhaps to Jon you should’ve known he’d have taken it as such. “I’m glad. I’d rather he look like you any day then me.” Holding your waist a bit tighter, Jons voice was low, and a bit on edge as if needing to jump to your own defence as he muttered that there was nothing wrong with the baby looking like you.

It wasn’t easy, still shaking off those feelings that you’ve changed since giving birth to him. The feeling as if Jon just may look at others and wonder when you’d start looking more like then again. He never expressed the thought, but it permeated for weeks when you first came home from the hospital what a mess you must look in comparison. Sometimes now it flared up, and Jon was always on the defence whenever you might even trickle into such a train of thought again.

But, you knew he wouldn’t suspect what you meant, nor did you want to explain it plainly for his own ego. You simply said it, because looking down at your son, it was so clear. “It’s like a part of you is still here, even when you have to be away for so long.” Jon went quiet, and you knew him having to still work so many days away at a time in some instances was difficult on him. “He looks just like you, and no matter what you claim, he acts just like you. Even if you’re away, he still has me and I still have him, and in a way it’s like you never really left.”

He said nothing, nor did you expect him too. He wasn’t a man of easy words when emotions ran deep and by the long, shaking exhale he let out, there was some rawness in how he felt about that. Not that you meant anything specific by it, but when you had spent the better part of the morning looking at both of them together, it was hard to keep your mind off of how you may have gifted him a child he always wanted, but he gifted you something too. A way to never truly feel alone without him anymore.

You weren’t sure how long you both sat there. Eddard not quite asleep, but his eyes drooping and drifting off as if relaxed too much to care about anything else. And with Jons warmth behind you, it made the urge to get up no faster. But, eventually one by one doors opened and voices filled the hallway outside Jons room before directing downstairs.

Leaning back into him, Jon pressed a kiss down to your neck, almost hiding against you on the other side of your neck and shoulder as Eddard, without even realizing. The sounds of breakfast downstairs starting, as meal times always made the echo in the Stark house loud, Jon muttered, “Do you want to join them? You didn’t have much earlier.”

You thought about it, and if he was suggesting it you knew Jon also could likely be hungry but you instead pulled back to run your hand over little Eddards curls. “What about you, sweet boy? Do you want to join everyone for breakfast?” Shaking his head no, you heard and felt Jon chuckle. A smile came over you, pushing your sons curls from out of his face more. “How about we get you something to eat in the kitchen, just the three of us?” He nodded at that.

You both knew why. When at proper meals, he hated being in the highchair. Only one of you could pay attention to him at a time, and you’d take turns so the other could eat and it never felt like a meal between you three that way. Whereas in the kitchen, you and Jon were much more liberal about where he could eat, and many times, he’d sit on your lap and eat as you would reach around his food to pick at yours.

Jons grip dropped to your waist, prompting you to stand up as he helped you so your hold on the baby didn’t jostle. Pausing, he looked at his son still grasping your hair. “Your mother won’t be able to eat if you’re holding onto her the whole time?” Shaking his head, as if your son was saying no he didn’t want to let go, but Jon knew. Walking to the other side of the room where his crib was, you turned to watch with a smile.

You knew exactly what he picked, and no matter how much he had now, toys or otherwise, it was still little Eddards favourite. His first toy. Jon gently cupped the side of his sons head, running a thumb over his cheek as he leaned to meet his eyes, holding up the small toy wolf plush in his other hand. “What about if your mother carries you, and you carry him? Will you let go of her hair then?”

Eddard slowly nodded, and even more slowly let your hair free as he grabbed at the wolf plush and pulled it very close to his chest, almost hiding his face in it comfortingly. Jon kissed the top of his head, before tilting your chin up to him. His thumb lightly brushed over your bottom lip before he met your lips in a kiss.

Sighing out right away, Jon captured the breath and didn’t release your kiss just yet. Instead, until you held no more breath to give, did he let go. Nothing but a slow, and chaste kiss that yet somehow left your lips tingling a bit, your eyes fluttered open far after Jons eyes opened to watch you. The words slipping from your lips without any hesitation. “I love you.”

Jon kissed you once more, muttering against them as his hot breath traced over your skin. “I love you too, darling.” Not another word was needed as he guided you both out of the hall and down the stairs.

Guiding you to the kitchen, Jon just barley could see the table everyone was sat around. Only catching Robbs curious eyes with a shake of his head to answer the silent question if he was joining. Only when Robb noticed little Eddard snuggled into your front did he nod with a smile. He knew too well not to interrupt his nephew when he was this warm and snuggling against you.

You stood in the back out of Jons way for a bit, his insistence to let him handle it as you muttered to the baby. “You did so well this morning, how far you walked? I’m so proud of you.” Snuggling closer, you pressed a kiss to the curls atop his head. Your eyes closed as you rested your head a little more comfortingly against him. He had come so far even at just a little over one.

Looking back to Jon, your own gaze softened. You had mulled over what gift to get him for the holidays for months, but in that moment you were fairly certain what you’d get him. What Jon would truly want more then anything else. You didn’t have it here and now, but you knew it would be a gift enough tonight after the baby was long asleep if you suggested it.

The question of whether or not it was too soon to start trying for a little girl.

[gauntmanor]

so when i say i ship stannis and cersei, i don’t mean it in a tee hee funny, point and laugh as the marriage falls apart kind of way

i mean i SHIP them

as in somehow happily married with 3 kids, reluctant childhood friends to lovers type beat (or in a modern AU, met in college)

one of their kids is indeed shireen

and i would also add myrcella, but i like the thought of her and shireen being cousins so in my ideal world myrcella is the only child of jaime and brienne

one day i will actually make a post explaining my logic for the stannis x cersei ship dynamic but that day is not today

thank you and good night

[burlveneer-music]

ganavya - Daughter of a Temple - another of this year's bounty of excellent spiritual jazz albums, with a stellar cast of guests performing a slate of Coltrane covers (John *and* Alice) and originals

Described by the Wall Street Journal as “one of modern music’s most compelling vocalists,” New York-born and Tamil Nadu-raised singer and multi-instrumentalist ganavya shares an ambitious new album, "Daughter of a Temple", via LEITER. The album follows her performance at SAULT’s acclaimed live debut in London in 2023, where, according to The Guardian, her “voice had a delicate emotive heft that could turn stoics into sobbing wrecks.” Her first single for LEITER, "draw something beautiful," was released earlier this year in July. For "Daughter of a Temple", ganavya invited over 30 artists from various disciplines to a ritual gathering in Houston. The results—an innovative and deeply moving blend of spiritual jazz and South Asian devotional music—were initially recorded by Ryan Renteria and then further edited and mixed by Nils Frahm at LEITER's studio in Berlin in 2024. Daughter of a Temple includes the voices, sounds, efforts, and prayers of: ganavya (voice, double bass, kalimba), esperanza spalding (double bass, voice), Vijay Iyer (piano), Immanuel Wilkins (saxophone, voice), Shabaka Hutchings (wind instruments, voice), Wayne Shorter (voice, beads, bell), Carolina Shorter (voice, beads), Ganesan Doraiswamy (voice), Vidya Doraiswamy (voice), Charles Overton (harp, voice), Peter Sellars (voice), IONE (voice), Rajna Swaminathan (voice, mrudangam, kanjira), Kweku Sumbry (percussion, drums, voice), M.S. Krsna (guitar, voice), Bindhumalini Narayanswamy (voice), Rasika Shekar (flute, voice), Shanta Nurullah (sitar, voice), Viktor Laurent Ewing Givens (voice, dance, ritualist), Chris Sholar (electronics), Darian Donovan Thomas (violin, electronics), Jiordi Rosales (cello, voice), Eden Girma (voice), and brontë velez (voice, dance, prophesy). The gathering-at-large in Houston included the presences, dances, efforts, and prayers of: Alyssa Simmons (event production, voice), Andrew Wilson (textile - making of prayer clothes, voice), Amir George (cinematography), Anya Yermakova (piano, choreography, dance), Cean Geronimo (food, voice), Charlotte Brathwaite (stage direction, voice), Frewuhn (voice), Joy Harjo (voice), Larry Blumenfeld (voice, movement), Lucía Martinez (movement, voice), Michael Ewing (event production, voice), Ricky Weaver (photography, voice), Ryan Renteria (sound engineer), Shelly Travis (event production, voice), Shireen Hamza (movement, voice), Terence Price II (cinematography), and Zahra Baker (voice). All music produced by Ganavya Doraiswamy. Additional production by esperanza spalding, Rajna Swaminathan, Ryan Renteria, Nils Frahm and Felix Grimm. Mixed by Ryan Renteria, additional mixing by esperanza spalding and Nils Frahm. Recorded by Ryan Renteria at Moore’s Opera House, Houston, Texas. Mastered by Zino Mikorey, vinyl cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle. Tracks 1, 2, 6, 8, 9: Licensed courtesy of Jowcol Music / Universal Music Publishing. Tracks 2, 6 by Swamini Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda. Tracks 1, 8, 9 by John Coltrane. Cover image by Ricky Weaver, design by Studio Torsten Posselt.

[farity]

Rush

Pairing: Modern AU!Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary:  A gallery debut for a beloved little cousin has the two of you running into some interesting people.

Warning: Smut

“Shireen! This is wonderful, you are so talented!”

The young woman beamed at you and gave you a huge hug.  “Thank you for making it, I know how busy you both are oh my gosh your dress is gorgeous!”

Aemond stepped in, giving Shireen a quick hug.  “Good job, kid, we’re never too busy to support family.”

Your second cousin Shireen might be young, but she has been an artist for years and this is her first showing at a prestigious gallery.  Her family name is enough to gather many of the city’s elite and you are delighted for her.

“We’ll let you chat with your admirers,” you added, “text me if you need rescuing, ok?”

“Will do!  Enjoy the food!”

* * * * * 

“She’s crazy talented,” Aemond said absently, studying one of the larger pieces on display.  “I wouldn’t mind this in my office,” he mused.

“Well,” you said, teasingly, “it is mostly black.  It will go with all the other black stuff.”

He leaned in, playfully biting your ear while you laughed.  “Be careful you don’t swallow my earring, it’s from this guy I met years ago.”

He let go of your earlobe and kissed your neck.  “Hmm, he must like you a lot, it’s a pretty big diamond.”

“Oh yeah he does,” you said nonchalantly, although what his mouth was doing to your neck was definitely making you want to find an empty room somewhere.  “I like him a lot, too.  He’s brilliant and so fucking hot.”  You ran your hand over Aemond’s ass, giving it a quick squeeze.

“I told you they would be all over each other.”

The man’s voice startled you and Aemond and you turned to see Oberyn Martell with his long-term partner Ellaria.

She smiled coquettishly at him.  “Then you have won the bet, my love.”

“I will be collecting later,” he said, kissing her hand, and then extended his hand to Aemond.  “Good seeing you, it’s been a while.”

“Oberyn, did you make the trip just for this?”

You kissed Ellaria’s cheek while the men chatted.  She was such a different creature from the go-getters of the city.  While everyone rushed, she seemed to glide effortlessly, and she seemed untouched by worry or time.

“We just escaped Jaime Lannister’s latest humblebrag.  Apparently he now has a Tesla at every one of his homes.” She whispered, rolling her eyes.  

“That’s Jaime, all right,” you replied, “at least Cersei is not here.”

“That woman is poison,” Ellaria snapped, then shook out her hair.  “Let us talk about nicer things.  Come and have dinner before we return to Dorne.”

“That sounds lovely!

“It will be a very small, intimate gathering,” Ellaria said suggestively, a soft smile on her lips, and you noticed her long glance at Aemond.  “Just the four of us.”

Ah.

“Well,” you replied, not missing a beat, “let us know and we will check our calendars.  It’s always so good to see you.”  You hugged Ellaria, kissing her cheek before Oberyn took your hand and kissed it.

* * * * * 

Aemond spoke to one of the gallery attendants to secure the painting he wanted for his study and caught you as you drank your wine.

“Hey gorgeous, you ready to go?” he said, slipping his arm around your waist as you handed him a glass of whisky.  “Are you purchasing anything?”

“Yeah, I already had them secured for me.”  You smiled up at him.  “We just got propositioned.”

“What?” he nearly choked on his drink and looked at you with pure disbelief in his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” you continued.  “Oberyn and Ellaria are inviting us to one of their "intimate” parties.  Like the one they had with Tyrion and Shae,” you whispered.

Aemond pulled you closer.  “Too bad for them, I do not share.”  He downed the rest of his whisky and let his hand ghost over your ass.  “Your delightfully bouncy ass is all mine,” he murmured against your temple, “your silken breasts are for my hands and mouth only,” he brushed your hair out of the way for another kiss on your neck, “and your most delectable-”

“Hey guys!”

You turned at once, your face burning, in time to see your brother-in-law, Aegon, and his wife Margaery smiling at you.  

“Oh hey!” you hugged Margaery, moving to the side a little to avoid crushing her pregnant belly.  “How are you feeling these days?”

“I am doing well,” she said, “my boobs are huge, for once, my hair is thick and glorious, and my nails are long.  Pregnancy for the win!”

You hugged Aegon, and started telling him about one of the pieces that you thought would look good in their house.  “We’ve been looking for something for over the fireplace, wanna go take a look, love?” he asked his wife, who gave you a little wave before following him.

“Okay,” you said, finishing your wine and putting the glass down on a table.  “I’m about done being caught making out with you.  Take me home and ravish me, Aemond.”

“Oh good, we found you!”

Fuck.

Your mother in law’s voice washed over you along with all the shame and embarrassment of knowing she had probably heard your last few words.

“Hey Alicent.  Viserys,” you kissed Aemond’s parents, who loved you like a daughter and had made you feel at home the moment Aemond brought you home years ago.

“Kid’s doing good, isn’t she?” Viserys asked, indicating Shireen.  He leaned in conspiratorially, “I have a feeling my wallet is going home empty tonight.”  

Alicent rolled her eyes at her husband.  “That is never happening.  Dinner on Sunday, right?” he asked you and Aemond.

“Definitely.”

The moment they left you turned, Aemond’s hand in yours, and began walking out.

“Should we say goodbye to Shireen?” he asked.

“I’m not saying anything to anyone any more.”

Aemond simply smiled as you walked out and much to your surprise, he grabbed you, lifting you off the ground, and kissed you, right in the middle of the street.  When he released you, you had to hold on to his arm to steady yourself.

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he said, “but I will take you home and ravish you all the same.”

* * * * * 

The front door slammed open while she laughed and he tried to ignore her hand down the front of his trousers.  He kicked the door shut and grabbing her hands, pressed her against the wall.  “I’m going to have you right here.”

“No,” she teased, “I want my nice, comfortable bed.”

“Three,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.

She blinked, dropping her bag on the floor.

“Two.”

Her eyes widened, and she started running upstairs, cursing the killer heels she wore. “I’m going to break a fucking ankle, Aemond!”

“One.”

He heard her throwing one shoe aside as he ran after her.  He would have her wherever he found her, maybe torment her a little as payment for her damn hand on his cock when he couldn’t do anything about it.

She’d gone into her dressing room and was struggling to undo the strap on her shoe.

“You’re mine.”

“Let me get this fucking shoe-”

He reached her before she finished and pushed her down on the fancy plush bench she had.  He’d never fucked her on that bench, he realized, and decided to rectify things.

“Aemond-”

“If I want you to use your mouth, I will let you know.”

He pushed up the hem of her short dress, tore off the lacy underwear, and fastened his mouth between her legs.  

She whined loudly as he devoured her, his mouth and tongue relentlessly working her to a quick, hard orgasm.

“Good,” he said, looking down at her, “we got one out of the way.”  Undoing the tiny buckle on her shoe, he tossed it aside and draped her legs over his shoulders.  He traced a slow circle around the sensitive knot of nerves, feeling her belly twitch with the aftershocks of her first release.  She was incredibly sensitive after, and he could usually get her to come again with the lightest of touches.   A few moments later, he was rewarded with a second orgasm, and he stood up, watching her limp form.

Walking to the other side of the bench, he pulled her up to sitting and unzipped the dress before pulling it over her head. He tossed it on the floor, and turned to find her on her knees before him.

She smiled coyly at him and ran her hand up the front of his trousers.  

“What do you want, my love?  You may tell me.”

“I want to return the favor, Aemond.”

“You want me in that tempting little mouth?

She nodded, biting on her lower lip.

God damn her.  He could never say no to her, naked or not, kneeling or not.

He cupped her cheek and she pressed against his palm.  “I fucking adore you,” he murmured, and she beamed at him before starting to unbutton and unzip.

She mouthed his hard length over the fabric of his boxers and he cursed.  This game, these amusements, she knew he would never in a million years hurt her beyond a smack on the ass or a tug on her hair.  He would cut his own throat before he ever hurt her.  

Her slim fingers slipped into the waistband of his boxers and Aemond wondered how long he was going to last because he was painfully hard and when she tugged down the garment and wrapped one hand around him, he nearly came.  Her mouth was soft and wet, her tongue swirling around as she worked him with her hand.

He would not come in her mouth, he would not come in her mouth, he would not-

In desperation, he pulled her off him and pushed her back onto the bench before driving inside her.  “Fuck, you feel too damn good.”

She licked her lips, “likewise.”

He began pounding against her, holding her hips so he wouldn’t push her off the bench, and she wrapped her legs around him, her breasts bouncing with every hard thrust.

“Fuck yes,” she moaned, “oh fuck, fuck-” she threw her head back, screaming, and watching her, her body taut in ecstasy, finally did him in, and he surrendered to his own orgasm.

* * * * * 

By the time the world stopped spinning, you realized Aemond was still kneeling between your legs, his head right under your breasts.

“I can’t stand right now,” he said in all explanation, and you began laughing, your skin still shimmering with pleasure.  

You couldn’t imagine sharing yourself - or Aemond - with anyone else.  You’d been his since the moment you first laid eyes on him at the hospital, where he had come in after a horrific eye injury.  While you started his anesthesia, you’d realized how much he was shaking, and had held his hand until he went under.

When you’d gone in to check in on him post-recovery, he’d thanked you for holding his hand.  “It’s the last thing I remember, your hand in mine.”

The eye had been too badly injured to save and he’d gotten a prosthetic replacement, until one day when he came in to thank the surgeon, and then pulled you aside.  

“So, are you officially not my doctor any more?”

You’d smiled, “no, not really, I was only there for the surgery,” you’d said, blushing at the intensity in his gaze.

You hadn’t known what to say next, and he’d extended his hand to you.  “Well then, it sounds like there is no doctor-patient bullshit to stop you from going out with me.”

And that had been that.  You’d gone out to dinner, gone back to your place, and then he’d never really left.  

“So I propose-”

“Again?” you teased.  

He raised his head to give you a look.  “I suggest, we move this party to the bedroom, now that I can stand.  I think.”

* * * * * 

Later, he watched her drift off to sleep, curled up against him.  He thought of the worst thing that had ever happened to him leading to the best thing that had ever happened to him and had long ago decided it had been a fair trade.

He’d told himself he had nothing to lose - he’d already lost an eye, he would have a nasty scar on his face for the rest of his fucking life, and he could tell himself that she had turned him down because she’d been one of the doctors on his case.

So he’d summoned his courage and after he’d talked to the rest of his medical team, he’d caught up with her and taken her aside.  And she’d said yes to going out with him.  When he’d asked her a different question a year later, she’d said yes, too, between tears and laughter.  

Whenever he told someone that he was a lucky man, he always caught the split second of disbelief.  But he knew better.

* * * * * 

Tagging:

@arryn-nyx​   @  girlwith-thepearlearring    @greenowlfactif  @hydrationqueensworld    @megzdoodle@melsunshine  @queenofshinigamis     @throughgoeshamilton   @travelingmypassion   @hb8301   @kaemond-zafiro    @arcielee

[atopvisenyashill]

How do you think asoiaf characters would do Thanksgiving if they lived in our modern world?

Cersei and Tyrion get drunk and ruin every holiday. Jaime sits in the front room w the kids the whole time, except when dinner is called, never notices anything. Arya can and WILL start a fight over politics, she’s like that “you’re looking fine tonight grandma” “cousin john you will NOT survive the revolution” meme. Sansa & Bran go to three different Thanksgivings in one day every year bc they’re social butterflies. Robb & Theon & sometimes Jon go to as many Thanksgivings as they can for the free food (Jon gets dragged along). Ned makes the turkey but Catelyn makes everything else. The Tyrells go really hard on the pilgrim thing no matter how many times Olenna says they’re tacky (tbc she doesn’t care about the racism). Stannis & Selyse make everyone listen to Shireen’s paper on why the origins of Thanksgiving are problematic, Renly spends the entire time sexting Loras under the table (he made them have dinner at noon so he could do dinner at Loras’). Robert has a second Thanksgiving at his own house that Stannis isn’t invited too. Brienne hasn’t had thanksgiving in years, she’s always at someone else’s house - she’ll go visit her dad on the weekend and bring him a pie tho. Littlefucker posts a picture of himself & Cat as kids every year with a caption like “thankful for my bestie” Cat likes it, Ned and Lysa do Not. Robb sends it to the Stark group chat that Cat isn’t in and they all dunk on it. Theon likes it to be funny.

[daenystheedreamer]

Hello! I have no ASOIAF mutuals and I just needed to confess some Sims 2 Sins: I made the Baratheons of Dragonstone in the Sims 2 and the "Baratheons" of King's Landing (I call them the Cersei Crew) SO Robert Baratheon died in a tragic pool accident that was definetly not planned (I sold the ladder) and one of Cersei's wants was seeing his ghost so that made her super duper happy for a while until his ghost started haunting poor Tommen and Myrcella. Joffrey picked a fight with a stray cat. He lost. In order for Cersei and Jaime to have a relationship and because I can't have incest relationships, I made 2 Tywins and 2 Joannas. Cersei was the daughter of Tywin 1 and Joanna 1, while Jaime and Tyrion were the sons of Tywin 2 and Joanna 2. Both Joannas tragically died in the swimming pool and I made the 2 Tywins fight for dominance and kept the winner alive (Tywin 2 won) . Tyrion is banging the cleaning maid but he has 0 chemistry with the Shae sim I made. I had to kill Shae and Tywin 2 in the swimming pool for lore purposes. I got Cersei a job in the criminal career because that was one of her wants. The Baratheons of Dragonstone are WAY more chaotic. Davos and Melisandre duke it out on the DAILY. Shireen got into private school and she's BFFs with Myrcella. Patchface got abducted by aliens and has yet to return. Selyse sat the house on fire TWICE. Everyone was so misrerable all the time so I bought them a hot tub and a stereo, and afterwards they did nothing but jump in the hot tub together like they're in some sort of weird spa. Selyse now does nothing but dancing to salsa. It's always salsa time for Selyse. Mel "sacrificed" the pizza delivery girl to R'hllor (I made her lock the girl in a room with nothing but a toaster oven and a flammable rug) but she hasn't died yet so now I keep her there. Stannis wanted a career in politics so I got him a job but he got fired after a few days because he was too busy playing water balloons with Davos in the backyard to go to work. I haven't noticed that nobody was paying attention to Shireen during the whole pizza girl on fire debacle, so her needs decayed badly and CPS took her away. Selyse was dancing to salsa, Stannis and Mel were in the hot tub and Davos was stomping the cockroaches in Shireen's room when CPS arrived and it was nothing short of pure chaos. I'm trying to adopt her back :(

davos and melisandre catty side pieces who hate each other so real. also yay shireen myrcella friendship :) in modern au esp high school au stuff myrcella gets casted as bitchy/bimbo blonde and thats not at all her canon characterisation i think her and shireen could be friends if patchface wasn't there. which he isnt here since he got abducted sorry babes.

[cassowariess]

The whole Team Black vs Team Green thing is so stupid to me. It feels like I'm watching an entirely different show to the rest of the people on this website. Everyone's trying to fit it through a modern lense and justify it as feminist/anti-feminist/other form of political topic to make their "side" seem more palatable/good.

It's like people have completely forgotten the scene in Game of Thrones where Stannis asks Shireen what side she would have chosen and she says: "None. It's all the choosing sides that made everything so horrible."

[kingsansa]

that ask omg. I don't think anyone /gets/ modern AUs like you do.

Now I'm suddenly interested in the Theon × Myranda pairing 😭 is that even a thing?

Also how did I not remember one of Arianne's possible suitors was Edmure ... like. The possibilities. Everyone is so interconnected and people don't make much use of this in modern AUs (understandable because they're usually not all related in modern AUs) but this could bring about so many fun dynamics. Arianne, Quentyn and the Sand Snakes being Jon's half-siblings' cousins .. huge. Like how Sam is related to Selyse Florent and (haven't actually checked but I think I remember him also being related to) Margaery. Shireen's cousins not actually being Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen but Gendry, Edric, and Mya (and like thirteen others). Jorah's ex wife Lynesse being Margaery's aunt. Waymar Royce being Myranda's [second?]-cousin. The Waynwoods most likely being distant Stark relatives, etc etc.

The show has ended and the books are over but there's so mug material for fics, it's crazy. I love that this fandom is still so active 5+ years later.

I feel so seen!

I headcanon Theon and Myranda more as partners in crime than anything else. Like a once upon a time they might have had something once but then they realized that they were better off as friends and became each others wingman. When Theon introduces her to Patrek Mallister >>>

I don’t see the sand snakes and co being the most welcoming to him, with the exception of Arianne, and I think while Aegon and Rhaenys spend holidays with their mom (you better believe that joint custody agreement is ironclad) Jon and Dany end up getting shuttled to the Baratheon’s vacation home, where there’s no shortage of beach, cousins, baby moms, and nannies running after children around the house screaming “PUT THAT DOWN NOW.”

Selyse and Sam’s mom are first cousins, which makes Sam and Shireen first cousins! Margaery’s maternal grandfather married Sam’s aunt, so they are sort of related! Jorah’s ex wife being Alerie’s younger sister is hilarious to me and I have no idea why. You know she’s showing up to every holiday party in a fur coaf reminding Margaery to marry rich. I’ve also decided that she’s best friends with Cersei because why not? There’s so much stuff to play with and that’s what makes writing about it so much fun!

[blissfulphilospher]

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Who Brings the Dawn?

Rhaenys × Robb Aegon × Aeolian

Rhaenys and Rhaella survives and are alive in King's Landing as Robert's Hostage. Aegon and Dany survived too but are not in Westeros. There are more Targaryens in Lys.

High fantasy fic. This was my first.

Freeze my Heart and Cease my Soul ❄️

Jonnel x Sansa Jon x Sansa

Reincarnation of Jonnel and Sansa who once ruled as the Lord and Lady of Winterfell after Cregan Stark's death. But it follows how and why they married.

This was my second and for my favourite OTP Jonsa!!

Your Daughter, Your Grace

Rhaenys × Viserys Rhaegar x Many

Rhaegar as Henry VIII with one daughter, six wives.

Rhaenys as Queen Mary Tudor. The first reigning queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Lost on You

Rhaenys x Viserys Aegon x Shireen

Targaryens exiled in free cities but they all were kids. Elia married again to Stannis and had Shireen. Years after war happens Targaryen come back but not with Fire and Blood.

Plus it is my favourite actually. I wrote seven books worth plot in one chapter.

The Queen and her Bastard

Aegon x Aeolian Viserys x Rhaenys

How Elia would have treated Jon Snow?

Plus it has more of my AU in which Rhaegar won the Rebellion. So this is not just about Elia and Jon's relationship but about more people too like Aegon, Lyanna, Jaime.

Yes they have povs.

Born to Die

Aegon II x Viserra

A modern fashion queen is reincarnated in Dance of the Dragons.

My first SI kind of fic.

Viserra Velaryon is Rhaenyra's eldest child and daughter. She expects her mother to name her heir but that never happens so she starts her own dance.

Tears of Labour

This is going to be about every queen and queen mother of Westeros since Aegon's conquest.

There are more queens then kings.

The POV will be through Aeolian Dayne. My OC who will be Aegon's queen in WBtD and TQahB.

Not started yet. 😅

The Grudge

Alyssa x Gwayne Aegon II x Helaena Aegon III x Jaehaera

I am gonna explore more of my Targaryen history with this one. Dance of Dragons and aftermath but a lot different.

Alyssa is Daemon and Rhea's daughter. My OC. Rider of Silverwing.

Not started yet.😅

[sophiemariepl]

Although I did very much enjoy House of the Dragon season 1, I have to admit that I really hate how much of the original Fire and Blood material was squeezed by the writers, so that the build-up for the Dance of Dragons could happen in just one season.

Like, so many important and interesting plotlines and character archs were lost as a result of this! Ser Harwin Strong, Laena Velaryon, Laenor did not have it much better… and don’t get me started on Larys Strong. This guy literally seems to be just a psychopath for being a psychopath. As a character, he does not stand next to either lord Varys or Petyr Baelish a.k.a. the Littlefinger.

And I have one theory about the circumstances that led to this state of the final product we got. It consists of two major points:

1) Large part of the budget went into the animation of the dragons, so they simply did not have the money to focus on nuancing and developing the storylines,

2) HBO had a survey made regarding the attention span of modern audiences and found out that it largely decreased in the past 10-15 years, so they chose to fit this new “criteria”.

The problem is, that one of the major assets of the original Game of Thrones is the fact that the storyline develops gradually, and in a relatively slower pace. This way we get the time to understand the political game of Westeros and we get attached to the characters we’re watching (regardless of whether it is a positive or a negative attachment). And this way, once a particular stage of the political game comes to it's conclusion and one of the characters dies, we feel the whole emotional baggage that comes with it. No matter if it is the sadness about heartbreaking death of Shireen Baratheon or the satisfaction of seeking Joffrey getting poisoned at his own wedding, it has it's own emotional baggage.

Meanwhile, many deaths of key characters in HotD just don’t have this baggage.

Ser Harwin Strong? He had such a cute relationship with Rhaenyra. Shame that he ended smoked on a grill, he was a hot baby daddy. Next.

Laena Velaryon, who appears so little that in each of her scenes she is played by a different actress? Oh no, she’s dead. Another point from the book behind us. Next.

Vaemond Velaryon? That guy who argued with Corlys in some of the earlier episodes? To paraphrase a text of a typical Polish grandma: I don’t know the man.

And I could count on and on…

[swimmingferret]

like what even is the point of reading my Dany centric fic if you think modern dany stans are idiots and basically call me a dumbfuck lmao like just quit reading???

shireen in my fic: I think these men deserve to see their family, including Ser Davos who I care for as a second father. I will sacrifice my own future to make sure the men who remained loyal to Stannis can return home, especially as I was traumatized in having my father die in front of me and witnessing the carnage of a battlefield and wish to stop any further violence.

This random comment: You wrote her like shit, she should've died for that cause despite never once showing ambition for the Iron Throne in canon and her risking her life by going to King's Landing and beg to King Aegon to protect Stannis's last men and making sure they have a future is dumb.