#daenerys targaryen imagine

[targaryenimagines]

My Khaleesi

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,586

Summary:

Warnings: Smut and G!P Daenerys.

Notes: Wasn’t sure if you wanted Dark!Dany (in a sense) or not, but decided to just do it that way for this one shot! If you’d like another one with a non dark Dany, I’ll be more than happy to do that. Also, this is definitely the most graphic smut I’ve written… I apologize if it’s bad.

Ash still falls from the sky like distorted flecks of snow— rubble shifts under foot as you make your way through the courtyard of the Red Keep. You didn’t have to turn your head far to see the destruction that had been wrought across King’s Landing, a destruction that had come at the hands of the woman you love the most in this world.

Fire and blood had come to Westeros, you think, side-stepping a charred corpse. And penance seemed to have been paid in full.

The sights, along with the smells, that assault you the farther you trek into the once great city aren’t something that sits well with you, nor does the knowledge that Westeros had pushed Daenerys, your Dany, to this point. That all of her grief: Viserion, Jorah, Rhaegal, and Missandei, along with all of her men that she lost in the North, had forced her spirit into shattering so completely.

I don’t want to be Queen of the Ashes…

A saying that had constantly been thrown towards Daenerys, that had been used as a means to control her, keep her line, and what better way to do that then remind her of her father’s legacy, a tale that’s haunted her ever since she discovered it, and had been continually repeated until Daenerys spouted it out as if she was simply talking about the weather. Her drive, the passion that had carried her through Essos, slowly being driven out of her the longer she spent in the toxic landscape that is Westeros; forever surrounded by the tales of her ancestors, by the fear and hatred that the people she saved showed her, at the clear refusal to ever accept her as anything more than a Targaryen Whore.

Rounding the corner of yet another hallway, you pause just outside of throne room, or what you believe to be anyway, and think over everything that had transpired. Think of the darkness that had seemed to have only grown in intensity since the Night King had been dealt with. Would Daenerys, after all of this, still wish to see you? Would you still have a place by her side?

Only one way to find out…

With a deep intake of breath, you step fully into the debilitated area that had once been a source of great pride— at the head of it all being the almost legendary throne itself, a mass of melted together swords, and standing before it?

Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps, Daenerys turns from her perusal of the throne, and a warm smile quirks her lips at your nearing form.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon,” she murmurs, adoration clear within violet eyes. Slim arms wrapping around your middle the moment your close enough for her to grab. A single gloved finger gently tracing down the expanse of your cheek, rubbing away the hints of ash that still remained. “I’m glad to see you unharmed. I don’t know what I would have done if that hadn’t been the case.”

You lean into the hand still resting on your cheek, a happy smile of your own making an appearance. “Burn down the rest of Westeros?” A dark look flashes through violet eyes, your joke suddenly taking on an all too serious light that you desperately wanted to veer away from. Bumping into her slightly, you disentangle from slim arms, warmed by the smallest bit of hesitance she had at letting you go, you step closer to the throne. “This is it? The Iron Throne?”

Daenerys settles next to you. “It is.” She touches the arm of it with an almost reverent air. “After all these years, all the trials and tribulations that I went through, I’m finally here. A Targaryen is finally the holder of the Iron Throne once more. I’ve brought honor back to my family.”

“You’ve honored them for years already, Dany. You simply being alive is honor by itself.” You angle your head, not surprised at all to see that she had already been looking at you. “This just exemplifies you into the ranks of Aegon.”

Violet eyes gleam with an almost childlike wonder, the hand closest to you touching your cheek with the same reverence she had shown the throne. “Aegon had his wives, he had his queens.” She steps away from you, taking her rightful seat on the throne. “Something that I’ll be in need of moving forward.”

Your head dips. “Anything I can help you with?”

Daenerys chuckles lightly, the sound rumbling from deep within her chest like one of Drogon’s roars. “There is, Y/N.” Gesturing for you to come closer, a command that you listen to without question, she gently maneuvers you into a kneeling position before her, slender fingers tangling themselves within the strands of your hair. “Say yes.”

“Your Grace?”

“Say yes to marrying me, to becoming my wife and queen.” Her holds tightens, forcing your head to tilt back. “Say yes to becoming mine and I’ll make sure everything you could ever want becomes yours.”

A small smile twists your lips upward. “Everything that I could ever want already is.”

At the words a small growl escapes Daenerys, her head dipping downward to press a heated kiss to your lips, maintaining that you’re kept in place by the iron-clad hold she still has on your hair. And, like with everything else, Daenerys didn’t hesitate in conquering what is hers, tongue barely brushing over your bottom lip before she plunders into your mouth, taking you for everything you have. The taste of you, the submission in which you’re showing her, along with the location no doubt, makes Daenerys almost frantic in her need for you.

Barely pulling away, giving you both a moment to breathe, before she’s claiming your lips once more— it’s wet, filthy in a way that makes your mind fog over in lust, and you can’t quite get enough air into your lungs through your nose, something that constantly ensures her scent is all that you’re surrounded by, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Wouldn’t want to be in any other position than where you are now; kneeling in front of your Khaleesi, her pleasure becoming yours.

Finally, with a ragged breath, Daenerys fully pulls away from you, a thin trail of saliva still connecting you both, before she shifts too far back and it snaps in half. Violet eyes, blown nearly black in lust, pin you in place as Daenerys slowly undoes the buckle of her pants, and jerks it down, the actions clear on what she expected from you. And, without preamble, or any sort of prompting, you help Daenerys with removing them, gently taking off her boots, before pulling her tight-fitting pants off her slim legs. The sight that greets you once you look up almost causing your mouth to dry up completely.

Daenerys Targaryen sat in all of her glory, bare from the waist down, her thick member jutting out from the apex of her thighs. The look in her eyes, in the darkness that lurks just out of reach, tells you all that you need to know, how your Khaleesi wished for you to service her next. Something you didn’t have a problem with doing, damn the consequences of potentially being caught in the wide open throne room.

Taking her into your hands, feeling her warmth, and the way that she twitches ever-so-slightly at your touch, is a heady sort of power that you’re never going to get used to.

Taking her into your mouth, jaw stretched wide to accommodate her girth, feeling the way she arches into the wetness it provides, hands tightening even further into your hair, the wonderful concoction of pain and pleasure, fuels you more than anything ever could.

Bobbing up and down, taking her deeper and deeper into your throat, listening to the breathy sighs she lets loose whenever she completely bottoms out, is a drug you never want to get off of. Her flavor— musky with just the barest hint of sweetness and something spicy— spreads across your tastebuds, your tongue lovingly swirling around the tip of her cock, taking in as much of her as you possibly could.

“Iksā doing sīr sȳz syt nyke.” The Valyrian praise escapes her in a low snarl, hands now guiding you in the exact way she wanted, your own simply being braced on her thighs as you let her use you. “Issare iā sȳz riña syt nyke. Ñuha sȳz riña.”

All you can do is moan in response, mouth completely stuffed full of her, but the vibrations makes her tense even further, another snarl rumbling from deep within her. You know that she’s close, can tell by the way her thighs were beginning to tremble underneath your touch, and the quickening of her thrusts, and your head moves even faster because of it— wanting nothing more than to feel her release down your throat, for your tongue to be coated by her cum.

“Issi ao jāre naejot gūrogon ziry mirre? Gūrogon everything bona nyke tepagon ao?” Daenerys groans out the question, clearly fighting with herself to not succumb just yet to the pleasure of her release. Peering up, you’re instantly met with darkened violet eyes, a rosy hue predominant across fair cheeks. Clearly waiting for a response, all you can do is gurgle around the cock currently in your throat, hoping that your eyes gave her all the answers she needed, which, by the tightening of her hands, absolutely did. “Sȳz riña.”

Within the next moment, jets of Daenerys cum shoots out, going straight into your stomach as you desperately swallow to make sure you don’t lose any of it. The feeling of warmth as her seed settles deep within you is one you’ve long since grown familiar with, but the possessive heat in her eyes as she watches you swallow it all down is definitely new. A reaction that causes your own arousal to come to the forefront of your mind finally, wetness clearly coating your thighs, waiting for your Khaleesi’s touch.

Daenerys pulls her cock from your mouth a moment later— the still hard length shimmering with the combination of leftover cum and saliva— allowing for you to take a deep lungful of air at last. Remnants of her still on your tongue.

Her thumb brushes across your bottom lip, briefly pushing into your mouth for you to suck on, before she retracts her hand and tugs you up onto her lap. Slim arms bracing your lower half perfectly against herself, settling her own body more fully on the Iron Throne.

“You did so good for me,” she murmurs, trailing slender fingers down your thighs. Nowhere near where you needed her the most though. “Do you want to continue?”

You nod. “More than anything, Khaleesi.“

Daenerys hums at the old title, hands gripping your hips in a hold that you know would leave bruises, lips ghosting across your jawline and down your neck.

“You’re mine, right?” Teeth nips into the sensitive flesh beneath your pulse point. “No one else can have you this way, fuck you the way that I can, or hear the beautiful noises you make when you fall apart.”

“Only you, Dany,” you whisper, nuzzling your nose against hers. “It’ll only ever be you. I’m yours completely.”

There isn’t need for more words after that, Daenerys simply hikes your dress higher up your waist, tearing your small-clothes away completely, before rubbing her hardened member against the wetness that has collected between your legs, a deep groan escaping her at the feeling of your clear want for her.

Within the next heartbeat, she’s buried to the hilt within you, a sharp keen being ripped from your chest at the feeling of complete fullness, the delicious stretch as your body tries to acclimate to the feeling of her, and begins to rut roughly into you. Hands slide from their place on your waist to settle on your hips, guiding you up and down as you begin to bounce in response to her thrusts.

A breathy moan falls from your lips, arms wrapped tightly around Daenerys neck, tugging her closer to you, continuing to ride her in complete abandon, wet slapping noise, intercepted by occasional grunts and moans, filled the air, echoing out across the empty throne room. A part of you thinks that you might even be able to be heard down below, the ripped open wall next to the throne offering an excellent siphon to the noises, but then Daenerys twists her hips in just the right way and everything, that doesn’t have to do with the mind numbing pleasure she gives you, vanishes from you mind in an instant.

Nails make crescent moons in the soft flesh of your hips, bruises no doubt already forming on your lower abdomen from how hard Daenerys was thrusting up into you, but the knowledge that your Khaleesi is marking you in such a way, that she’s lost parts of her control because of you, makes you not care in the slightest— you were hers, completely and irreversibly. Her pleasure was your own.

With another strangled gasp, your head falls to her chest, still glad in her formal garb, the metal cool against the heated expanse of your forehead, no longer being able to keep yourself upright. You could feel your climax approaching— coming faster and faster as Daenerys brushed against the spot within you every time she pulled out. Your core clenching around her desperately, trying to keep her within you, milk her for all that she’s worth, and the tight constriction causes a strangled sound of her own to resonate from your Khaleesi.

Feet planted firmly into the floor, she begins to piston fully into you, your body arching into her, allowing her to move you as she saw fit, clearly chasing her second release and your own.

“I’m going to mark you in a way that no one ever has.” Feverish violet eyes meet your own, strands of silvery-gold hair sticking to her heated cheeks, torn from their intricate braids, as her grip on you tightens more. “You’re going to bear my children, you’re going to continue on the Targaryen name. Would you like that?”

You moan. “Yes.”

The thought of carrying her children, of continuing on the Targaryen Legacy, filled you with a sense of purpose, a sense of warmth.

Pushing your head further into her chest, you plead. “Do it, Khaleesi. Claim me.”

With a ragged snarl, Daenerys’s hips stutter and before you know it jets of warmth fill you up, going straight to your womb. The feeling triggers your own release, a broken moan leaving you as you milk Daenerys for everything she has, everything that she’d be willing to offer. Harshly panting, Daenerys settles back onto the throne, hands gently running down your spine, holding you as closely as she possibly still could, still buried inside of you.

“Thank you,” she whispers, nuzzling you before she presses a kiss to your damp temple.

You sigh, content in her arms. “Always.”

Pressing another kiss to your head, Daenerys angles your face in order for you to look at her, the open look of adoration on her face one that’d only ever be reserved for you and her son.

“My beautiful love, my lovely wife.” She drops a chaste kiss to your lips, her hips beginning to move once more. “My eternal queen.”

“My Khaleesi.”

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys #got imagine #got imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #house of the dragon

[periodcostumefantasylover]

Ciri on fire in The Witcher 3x07

#cirilla of cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri of cintra #the witcher season 3 #the witcher spoilers #witcheredit #the witcher #freya allan #perioddramaedit #this girl is on fire #daenerys targaryen imagine

[axelsagewrites]

Danerys Targaryen*My Queen

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

Word count: 813

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

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

Masterlist Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

#game of thrones smut #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen smut #daenerys targaeryen x reader #got smut #got x reader #got imagine #daenerys stormborn #daenerys stormborn smut #kinktober

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

To Dream of Home | D. Targaryen

▹ Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Stark!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff with mentioned Angst

▹ Words: ~2.5k

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

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

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

A storm raged on the island of Dragonstone. 

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

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

“You spend an awful amount of time here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I prayed for home.”

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

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

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

How could you possibly ever deny her?

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

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

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

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

“That sounds beautiful.”

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

“It was.” 

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

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

Winterfell wasn’t home anymore. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to it?” 

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

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

“We could always return.”

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

“And if it’s no longer standing?” 

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

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

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

“And you would stay with me?”

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

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

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

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

She leaned closer, the tips of your noses brushing. 

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

“And direwolves?” 

“Maybe one or two.” 

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

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

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

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

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

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #Daenerys Targaryen x Stark!reader #daenerys x fem!reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got #got imagine #Daenerys targaryen x fem!reader #game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones fanfiction #Daenerys x Stark!reader

[multifandomfix]

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

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

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

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

For @dragonxinia

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

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got #got imagine #request #send requests #requests open

[poisonsage808]

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

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

♡ Margaery Tyrell ♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡ Sansa Stark ♡

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

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

• Once it hissed at her and she hissed back

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡ Daenerys Targaryen ♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

#poiboidrabbles #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #x reader #imagine #ask stuff #writeblr #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark imagine #sansa stark headcanons #sansa stark #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #margaery tyrell imagine #daenerys targeryan #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader

[in-my-feels-probably]

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

A Better World

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

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

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

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

—

You had never known another woman like Daenerys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s that smile.”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

You had watched both Viserion and Rhaegal die. 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She wouldn’t hurt you. Not you.”

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

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

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

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

—

Within an hour, the fighting had stopped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She spoke with a fury that you had once admired. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A death that would have been by her hands. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I do?”

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

“Why?”

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

“I did what was necessary–”

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

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

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

“I would never hurt you–”

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

“Cersei gave me no choice!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, taking her hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drogon…Dracarys!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys deserved better #daenerys targaryen imagine #jon snow x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #house targaryen #targaryen

[dannyboy-writes]

Of thrones and dragons

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

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

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

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

Click.

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

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

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

Definitely warmer.

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

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

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

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

But his eyes were focused on her. 

And not only his’, she realised. 

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

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

Your eyes however, were focused on her.

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

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

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

“Are you y/n?” She asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And tamed ones?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Sadly, no.”

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

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

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

“You could have a throne,” she offered.

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

#daenerys imagine #daenerys stormborn #daenerys targaryen #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x male reader #daenerys targaryen x reader

[madwomansapologist]

Daenerys + Mastermind

Taylor Swift Writing Challenge: Mastermind

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

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

warnings: none.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

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

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #ask box #taylor swift #taylor swift writing challenge #mastermind #midnights #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of throne x y/n #got #got x reader #got x you #got x y/n #got imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x you #daenerys targaryen x y/n #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys deserved better #daenerys stormborn #pro daenerys #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoiaf imagine #asoiaf fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #daenerys targaryen fanfic

[targaryenimagines]

Northern Lights

Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,863

Summary:

Warnings: Self Esteem Issues

The land of Westeros wasn’t as comforting as you once remembered it to be. Of course, it had been a long while since you had been within its shores, but you remember a place filled with intrigue and mystery. Laughter, with hints of wariness, intermixed within the very ground that the Westerosi People walked upon. Now it was a frigid wasteland of the home you once thought you had. 

Being back, returning to the place where you had lost everything, wasn’t exactly what you had wished to do. You enjoyed your life within Essos: the sun on your face, the shrieks of the gulls in the bay, the harmonious energy that suffused itself within the market square, and the gorgeous architecture that seemed to have lost its way in Westeros. You never wished to go back. Never would have had the thought cross your mind if it wasn’t for the woman that held your heart.

If it wasn’t for your Khaleesi. Your dragon. 

Your Daenerys. 

You knew, better than most, what taking back the Iron Throne meant to the Targaryen. What it would mean if she could take back the country that her family had built; take back everything that had been stolen from her before she was even truly born. It’s for that very reason, and for the fact that you’d do anything she asked of you, that you found yourself on the deck of the gently swaying boat. Your attention locked onto the grand spires of Dragonstone in the distant horizon; a place you had only heard about from your mother before bed. It was clearly a place of great power, even if it had been abandoned for years at this point. Valyrian expertise didn’t seem to have an expiration date; not when it came to their creations.  

The feel of the wind whipping across your body, along with the frigid coldness of it, made it abundantly clear that you were standing by yourself on top of the deck. Daenerys had disappeared into the main cabin to with her advisors to devise strategic maneuvers once landfall was obtained. You’re not sure how long it had been since she vanished, but you know that you probably wouldn’t see her until the envoy arrived on Dragonstone. It was a fact that caused a hollow feeling to well within your chest; it hadn’t always been like this. Where Daenerys would be gone for long hours at a time without telling you where she had disappeared to. 

Of course, you’re well aware that Daenerys’ time was precious. She’s in the middle of an invasion; so close to achieving her lifelong dreams that had taken her years to get to this point. You weren’t going to take her attention away from what she had strived to achieve for so long, but that didn’t mean your heart and soul didn’t ache for your dragon to return to your side. To warm your chilled hand in hers and to reignite your heart with the flame of her love. 

You would bide your time to get your moment with Daenerys, but for now you’d simply step back and let Daenerys do what she was always meant to do. In time Daenerys would come back to you and you would be complete. 

Just like it was always meant to be. 

She’s not here...

A frown pulls at your brow as you leave the fifth room that you had believed would house your Khaleesi. You had been searching for her all morning, after tending to your children, because you had made a pact the night before last that you’d finally go flying together. Something that you hadn’t been able to enjoy in her presence for longer than you’d like to think about. However, when the meeting time came and went, you knew that you’d have to go search for Daenerys. Trying to fight the feeling of self-doubt at the realization that she had forgotten about you. 

Forcing the intrusive thoughts down, you step outside into the brilliant sunlight and calming wind. Quickly making your way down the various staircases, almost slipping a time or two because of the damp stone, you soon find yourself on the private cove that some of the Dothraki had made their home for the time being. It seemed that being in Westeros didn’t agree with everyone. 

“Vorro,” you call softly, attracting the attention of one of the few Dothraki warriors you were close with. His dark brown eyes lighting up briefly at the sight of your approaching form; a reaction that you appreciated more than he could ever realize. “Do you know where the Khaleesi is?” 

He tilts his head slightly. The confusion clear on his rugged features, not that you could blame him, after all when didn’t you know where Daenerys was? She always made it a point to tell you. Or used to...

Instead of responding in broken common tongue, Vorro points towards the cave that housed the surplus of Dragon Glass. A mineral that Daenerys hadn’t found that interesting until... 

With a brief smile towards Vorro, you hasten to the entrance of the cavern that was slowly starting to lighten due to torchlight. Your earlier fears coming to life because of the sight of Daenerys’ familiar form stepping out with Jon Snow. The two were clearly in the middle of a conversation, but the moment that Daenerys caught sight of you her entire countenance brightened. Something that you would have been touched by if it hadn’t been for the fact that she had forgotten. She had forgotten because of him. 

“Y/N,” Daenerys calls, a warm smile curling her lips. “What are you doing out here?” 

It was an innocent question-- one that didn’t mean anything-- but you couldn’t help but hear: Why are you here? I’m busy, I don’t have time for you. 

You offer her a tense smile. “I was in search of you, Daenerys.” It felt wrong to use her full name, she had always been Dany, but it seemed even more wrong to use such an intimate nickname in the presence of Jon. “Drogon and Viserion are already prepped for flight. Will you be much longer?”

The look in Daenerys’ eyes told you all that you needed to know before the words even passed her lips. Before Daenerys could even hope to soothe the pain, she had unknowingly inflicted upon your heart, Jon’s rumbling voice breaks through the tense silence. 

“Your Grace,” he murmurs. “Can we continue our conversation?” 

What conversation? You wanted to scream. What can possibly be more important than us at this current moment, Dany?

However, when Daenerys shifts her apologetic gaze towards you, you swallow the acidic words down and smile dryly at her. You couldn’t burden her with the issues that were beginning to pile upon your own plate. She was in the process of spearheading a war, an invasion the likes Westeros hadn’t seen since Aegon. Your insecurities shouldn’t get in the way of that. When you dipped your head in silent acquiesce to her silent question, Daenerys passes you with a gentle smile, but her attention soon shifts back to Jon Snow. Their low voices soon getting caught up in the sounds of the sea; leaving you behind to watch their disappearing shapes. 

Forgotten. Small. 

Things you had never felt with Daenerys before. It just gave you another reason that you hated that you came back to Westeros. To the land that always seemed to take everything from you. 

The biting wind of the North felt even harsher against the exposed portions of your skin as you stood off to the side. 

Alone. 

Observing as Daenerys greeted Sansa Stark and Tyrion made a quip you only barely paid attention to. You wanted nothing more than to be standing by Daenerys’ side, but Jon had taken the spot from you. Moving closer to at least feel like you were part of the inner circle, you watch as Bran Stark-- a boy that had been through much in his few years alive-- shifted in his seat. The action causing everyone’s attention to shift towards him, but his gaze simply stared at Daenerys blankly. 

“He’s with him you know.” Even his voice sounded hollow, as if he wasn’t truly there. It was chilling affect that almost caused you to miss his next words. “Viserion. He’s with the Night King.”

Everything turned to white noise at that. The feel of the wind against your skin gone, the distant sounds of the townspeople static, and the horrified expression that Daenerys has on her face as she looks at you all but invisible. You couldn’t feel anything except the pain of your heart breaking all of over again. 

Viserion, your mind cries. Your Viserion. 

The gentlest of all your sons. The one with scales as like liquid sunlight and shimmering gold eyes that offered just as much warmth as any fire. Who crooned to you sweetly when you curled against him at Dragonstone, who always knew how to make you feel better within the poisonous landscape that is Westeros. Images of his cream-colored head bowing to you, offering you a place on his back, flits through your mind; the exhilaration you had felt when you soared high above Meereen. The bond that you had always felt with him truly cemented into place. You both growing into more than mother and son, you were dragon and rider. 

A bond that had been broken when Daenerys had headed North, beyond The Wall, to save Jon Snow. Almost costing you the love of your life, but instead you lost your son. Your precious son that didn’t deserve to perish in the icy wasteland. Who didn’t deserve to be alone when he took his last breath. 

You didn’t even register that Daenerys was softly calling your name. That concern was etched across every line on her face as her violet eyes traced over your form. You didn’t register that Missandei had made her way over to you until her warm hand gently touched your arm. An action that caused you to jerk back as if you had been burned. 

Leave. You needed to leave. 

Being around everyone, feeling their stares on you, was only causing your thoughts to spiral that much more. Hot tears brimming your eyes, threatening to spill over, and you didn’t wish to cry in front of the Stark’s. You didn’t wish to let them see how much Westeros had broken you. 

So, without putting much stock into the action, you turn and rush down the side yard that you hope would lead you out into the open area beyond the walls of the castle. Where you knew that your two remaining sons would be. You needed to be near them, to be surrounded by their warmth. It was a thought that was so consuming you didn’t see Daenerys’ gaze widen before she took off after you. Her attention, for once in a long while, completely on you; like it should have been after you had both lost Viserion. 

The crunch of the snow underfoot, and the frigid wind, wasn’t helping with your spiraling thoughts. You wanted nothing more than to be back in the warmth that was Essos. To be back in a place where Viserion would have never been taken from you. Where he wasn’t being used as a pawn in a war that he should have never been part of. 

Stumbling to a halt, your legs too weak to go any further, you sink down onto the ground and burrow your face in your hands. Trying in vain to stop the sobs from escaping the confines of your mouth; even as salty tears began to make trails down your face. Pain, and the desolation of being alone within your grief, caused your body to be wracked by the force of your grief. To the point that you didn’t even feel the snow melting underneath your knees.

Nor did you hear the sound of approaching footsteps until a familiar warm body sinks down in front of you. Gloved hands gently taking hold of your wrists to pry your hands from your face. The vision of Daenerys’ pained expression being the first thing you see through the blurry eyes. Her own violet gaze etched with her own grief but, forever the strong one, her tears weren’t going to escape any time soon. 

“I didn’t know,” she murmurs, a certain softness in her tone. As if she was afraid, you’d break entirely if she spoke too loudly. “I was too blind to see how much you were hurting, my love. Too caught up in my vision of what I wanted our future to be that I forgot about the present we’re currently living in.”

Her words, while sweet, did little abate the pain her actions had caused you. Of the insecurities that well within your chest whenever you think of Jon Snow. “When we lost Viserion--” You breath catches in your throat at the painful reminder, but you continue on. You needed to get this out. “I felt like I didn’t just lose him, Dany. I felt like I lost you too because you were consumed by the Iron Throne.”

The tears within her violet eyes become even more prominent. “There’s nothing I can say that can excuse my actions towards you, Y/N. Nothing I can say that will take the pain that I inflicted onto you away, but I want you to know that even when I wasn’t with you, I was always thinking of you.” She leans forward to place her forehead against yours; her sweet smell wafting across your senses in a way you’ve missed terribly. “When I was in the War Room, planning my next move, all I could think about was winning the battle to ensure that our life, the life I’ve always promised you, would be secure. When I spoke to Jon Snow about allowing the North to use Dragon Glass, I could only think about protecting you. That creating a strong alliance, with a standing noble house, would ensure your protection.”

Daenerys pressed a light kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“And when I went North without you, beyond The Wall, all I could think about was returning to you. About making sure that the alliances I’ve strived for wouldn’t be in vain, because of a foolish plan that you had warned me against. Then with Viserion--” This time her own voice cuts off, grief thick within her voice at the thought of son. “I-I couldn’t face you knowing that I was the reason for his death. That if it hadn’t been for my desire to make our future real, to make our happy ending a reality, then I wouldn’t have been foolish enough to agree with a plan that was doomed to fail from the start. I would have listened to you because I know you’ve always had my best interest at heart. Our son would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. If I hadn’t turned into Viserys.” 

Despite your own pain, and the residual effects of what had transpired in the last few months, you couldn’t keep the sharpness out of your tone. “Viserion dying wasn’t your fault, Dany.” You cup her cheeks, pressing your forehead firmly against her own. “It’s the Night King’s fault. He’s the one that killed our son and he’s the one using Viserion as a puppet. You love our children, more than anything, and I know that you would have never put Viserion into harm’s way unless you felt like it was necessary.”

Nuzzling closer, Daenerys lets loose a sigh that seemed to be from her very soul. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been here for you, but I promise that will change now. I’m not going to be so focused by the future, of what could be, that I forget about what’s currently happening. Can you forgive me, my love?”

“I already have, Dany.” You press a light kiss to her lips. “You’re certain that there’s nothing going on between yourself and Jon?” 

Violet eyes sear into your own gaze with a heat that could be likened to dragon fire. 

“Never, Y/N.” Daenerys pulls you closer to her body, her warmth fighting off the North’s cold perfectly. “I can see Jon Snow becoming an ally, maybe even a friend, but you will forever be the one that has my heart. You’re the light that will forever bring me home, keep me grounded, and I won’t ever take that for granted again. I can live without the Iron Throne, but I can’t live without you.”

Tightening your arms around Daenerys, you don’t feel the need to say anything else for the time being. Instead, you burrow closer in your dragon’s embrace and simply bask in the warmth you had been missing ever since you had gotten to Westeros. 

Everything falling into place after so long of everything being askew. You didn’t need anything more in this moment.

Not as long as you had Daenerys’ arms wrapped around you, and the promise of her love echoing within your heart and soul.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys #game of thrones imagines #got imagines #daenerys imagines #daenerys imagine

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

requested by ✨myself ✨

A/N: House of the Dragon fully has me back in my Dany era, I just miss her so fucking much so I had to indulge myself with this lil drabble! I hope you enjoy

“You ready?” Dany purrs dangerously as she looks down at you.

You nod as you take in the wicked smirk on her face, flashing her a smirk of your own in return. You grab onto her bare hips where she’s seated on top of yours. The two of you start to grind together, rubbing your bare pussies against each other. She lets out a dangerous chuckle as she reaches out towards the candle burning beside the bed.

Dany keeps her eyes on yours as puts her hand directly into the flame, letting her fingers dance between the burning licks of fire. You hitch a breath in anticipation as she brings that hand down and lets the tips of her fingers graze down your bare chest. You hiss at the light sting, the warm burn as her fire-touched fingers drag down your skin. But beneath the burn you feel your pussy ache, the pain on your skin mixing deliciously with the pleasure of Dany grinding against you.

“You like that?” She hums as she returns her fingers to the candle.

“Yes, Khaleesi,” you whine as you throw your head back.

Dany hums her approval as she starts to move her hips even harder against yours, pushing down hard so her cunt slid against yours in just the right way. You moan loudly when her warm hand caresses your breast this time, the fire of her fingers dancing over the sensitive skin of your breast. She squeezes and kneads your tit, letting his fingers pinch your nipple.

Your body burns, from the heat, the pain, the pleasure. All of it. Your mind goes dizzy as you feel the warmth radiate through you, undeniable pleasure sizzling in your veins.

“That’s it,” Dany hums proudly as she sees you fall apart beneath her.

Your back arches, chest pushing up into her heated hand as you rock through your climax. Dany keeps grinding against you, swiftly following you into her own climax as she moans in satisfaction above you. She smiles down proudly at you as you both slow your grinding down, your highs slowly subsiding, her hand slowly cooling back to a normal temperature on your skin.

Both of your gazes drop to your chest where her hand was still splayed between your breasts. There are the slightest of marks against your skin, definitely nowhere near as bad as you’d thought they would be. It seemed your skin had been perfectly fine with the heat of Dany’s fire-touched fingers. Dany lets out another satisfied hum as she looks down at you with a smirk.

“Hmm, maybe you have a hint of the dragon in you too.”

Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

#stranger nightmare #kinktober 2022 #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen smut #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen x you #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys smut #daenerys imagine #daenerys x reader #daenerys x you #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #game of thrones imagine

[axelsagewrites]

What They're Like in Bed

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

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

Word count: 905

Men's part here

Masterlist Here

Margaery

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

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

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

Sansa

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

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

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

Daenerys

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

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

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

Yara

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

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

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

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

#game of thrones smut #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen smut #daenerys targaeryen x reader #sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark imagine #sansa stark smut #yara greyjoy #yara greyjoy imagine #yara greyjoy smut #yara greyjow x reader #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell imagine #margaery tyrell smut #margaery tyrell x reader #game of thrones preference

[winter-soldier-101]

The Conquerers Daughter

Word count: 1008

Let me know if you would liked to be tagged.

Not my gif

“My beautiful little dragon you are specially sent from the gods themselves and I need you to know why we choose to be here on DragonStone” Aegon tells (Y/N) about his dream and his dagger.

(Y/N) loved both her brothers Aenys was nice and caring and always helped everyone but Maegor was cruel and selfish he only cared for himself and his mother.

(Y/N) stood next to Aenys and Maegor as their father died (Y/N) cried and held onto Aegon’s hand not wanting him to leave her and her brothers.

“Aenys 1 Targaryen was born in 7 ac to Aegon the conqueror and his sister wife Rhaenys Targaryen and Rhaenys became pregnant again with (Y/N) Targaryen she was born 9 ac but Rhaenys would not live to see her children grow she passed in 10 ac Aegon’s other sister wife birthed Aegon another son named Maegor 1 Targaryen who would forever be remembered as Maegor the cruel” (Y/N) tells Daenerys as (Y/N) hands her over to the wet nurse.

“Viserys you must protect your sister now and always” (Y/N) tells little Viserys as she tells the handmaiden and knights to keep both children safe and protected.

“Are you coming with us (Y/N)?” Viserys asks her with tears in his eyes.

“Not today but soon my dragon” (Y/N) tells Viserys as the handmaiden takes him and Daenerys (Y/N) watches as they sail away and (Y/N) takes baby Aegon to safety and gives him to an old friend to keep him safe and tell no one who he truly is.

(Y/N) steps up the stairs that remain of her ancestral home Valyria (Y/N) looks around and sees nothing but stone men and one withered tower as (Y/N) looks into the tower there say three stoned dragon eggs one as white as snow one dark as night and one blue and purple (Y/N) took the eggs and left the old ruins and hide away from everyone.

(Y/N) is woken up my screeching coming from the fire and sees two of the three dragons have hatched and (Y/N) let’s out a cry and the dragons crawl over to (Y/N) as she holds them and names them snow and shadow and keeps the blue and purple one in the fire hoping it will hatch soon.

16 years later

(Y/N) reads the letter and sees that Viserys is marrying Daenerys to some Dothraki warlord named Khal Drogo so (Y/N) sailed to Pentos to see Viserys and Daenerys.

Pentos

“Who is that woman IIIyrio?” Viserys asks.

“That’s (Y/N) Targaryen she is Aegon The Conquerors daughter some say she was a gift to Aegon from the gods she helped you and your sister escape those years ago before hiding herself” IIIyrio tells Viserys.

“My little Viserys you have grown into a handsome man. Where is your sister?” (Y/N) asks Viserys.

“She is over there sitting with her husband” Viserys tells you as he leads you over to her.

“Oh my little dragon you have grown into a beautiful woman” (Y/N) tells Daenyers as she makes her way over to her.

“Do I know you?” Daenerys asks (Y/N).

“You wouldn’t remember me I helped your mother deliver you and help you and your brother escape” (Y/N) tells Daenerys as she hugs her.

“What is this?” Daenerys asks (Y/N) looking down at the golden Targaryen ring.

“It was your mothers I held onto it so I could give it to you one day” (Y/N) tells her.

“Thank you” Daenerys says as she holds onto (Y/N).

“If you ever need me Daenerys write me and I will come” (Y/N) tells Daenerys and leaves shortly after.

The Kings Road

(Y/N) flys over the kings road ahead of Robert and his knights and family and stops them (Y/N) gets off her dragon and tells the knights she needs to talk to Robert.

Robert and Cersei and there children and Ned Stark and his daughters walk out and see (Y/N) and her two large dragons.

“Hello Robert it’s been so long since I’ve seen you” (Y/N) says looking at Robert.

“What is it you want (Y/N)?” Robert asks (Y/N).

“I want you to leave Daenerys and Viserys alone I know you have someone watching them and telling you everything it stops now or I’ll burn your children alive in front of you and I’ll let my dragons have you and your wife for dinner so think about it Robert because no one will protect you from me and my dragons and Ned you watch over your daughters carefully around these people and you Arya write to me if you ever feel you or your family is in danger” (Y/N) tells Arya giving her a paper with everything she needs to know to call for you as you walk away and get back on your dragons and fly away seeing the fear in all their eyes.

(Y/N) watches on as Aegon sails, becoming a great sailor (Y/N) goes over and calls for him.

“You have grown strong” (Y/N) tells him.

“(Y/N) I’ve missed you, what brings you here?” Aegon asks you while hugging you.

“I’ve come to give you this” (Y/N) says as she hands him the blue and purple egg.

“A dragon egg thank you” Aegon says as he looks at the egg closely.

“Keep it in the fire it must be with fire alway” (Y/N) tells him before leaving him alone on the dock.

Aegon smiles at the egg and looks up at the sky and smiles with tears in his eyes.

“I miss you mother and father and soon I’ll make the people who took you away from me pay” Aegon says as he makes way to his room and puts the egg on the fire and watches as it slowly heats up and cracks versus slowly.

Taglist: @Soph3333 @federalclassroom @cathy1514 @marytargaryen @stargaryenx

#gameofthronesimagine #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #robb stark x you #daenerys targaryen imagine #jon snow imagine #jon x daenerys #robb stark x reader

[livingdreams97]

Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 1)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

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

Words: 3.835

Masterlist

NOTE: If you see any spelling mistake im sorry, english is not my first lenguage and i try to do it the best possible.

POV Narrator

House Baratheon of Storm's End is a noble house of the Stormlands. With the emblem of a sable-crowned deer, on a field of gold and the motto “Ours is the Fury” .

House Baratheon gained renown when Robert Baratheon, head of House Baratheon and lord of Storm's End, led a rebellion against the Targaryen Dynasty and emerged victorious.

King Robert married Cercei Lannister, with whom he later had four children and a bastard son out of wedlock. All the king's children were completely different from him in appearance, they were blond, blue-eyed and had features identical to their mother's. All but one; the oldest.

Y/n Baratheon has always been completely different from the rest of his siblings, from his physique, to his personality and to the treatment he received from both parents. He had brown hair like all Baratheons, his eyes were green and brown.

In fact, from the day of his birth, they discovered a disease in his eyes, a disease that only made him look more identical to his Baratheon blood. The prince was born with Heterochromia, thus having the right eye of a leafy green color like the forest and the left of the color brown characteristic of his surname.

His physique at a young age was identical to that of his father, when he was his age and had a healthy physique. He had a personality very similar to his father, playful but serious when he should be, he knew how to behave when he was told, he liked to enjoy the little things and he has a heart that is too big.

King Robert saw in Y/n the perfect son, he saw himself reflected in his little fawn and from the day of his birth; It became his most precious possession. Especially after the rest of his children were born and none had a single faction similar to his.

And on his deathbed, the only one King Robert wanted to see and the only person he wanted to say goodbye to was his first son. The son who should have reigned after his father's death, but who, due to guilt and insecurity, did not accept the crown. An act that would bring consequences and great regret on the part of the young deer.

While Y/n was his father's sweetheart and his clear favorite child, his mother was the complete opposite and she never missed an opportunity to show her contempt for her first child behind closed doors.

When Y/n was born, his mother was in love with him and his eyes. Cercei spent hours and hours looking into the different but mesmerizing eyes of her first cub. But a year later, after the birth of her second son Joffrey, Y/n faded into the background and was never her mother's priority never again.

When Cercei saw Joffrey's blue eyes and blond hair, she knew what that combination meant. In Joffrey she saw herself and her brother Jaime reflected in the child. As her children grew and two more were added to the family, the clearer was Cercei's contempt for her first heir.

Y/n didn't look like a Lannister, it wasn't one of her cubs but a deer and she didn't want him. Especially when Joffrey began to adopt a personality very similar to his mother's and became everything his mother wanted him to be.

The day Joffrey died in his mother's arms, everything around her ceased to have so much importance and a part of her died with her son that day. Y/n tried to take the throne, but his mother forbade him and made sure he felt the guilt of his father's death, to prevent his coronation. And he got it.

Then it was Myrcella, the sweet and innocent only daughter of the lioness. A twisted death and in the form of a cruel revenge. Ellaria Sand poisoned Cercey's only daughter, through a kiss and an irreversible effect poison without the antidote.

Tommen was the next to reach the throne, but it did not work out very well when the Red Sparrow appeared and severely punished his mother for her sins. Cercei herself carried her youngest son into the arms of death, when she destroyed the Sept of Baelor and with it the beloved of her last two living children.

And that leaves us with now, where a Cercei Lannister is crowned queen after the explosion of the Sept of Baelor and a Y/n Baratheon is locked in the dungeon to prevent his coronation.

Daenerys POV

Tomorrow we leave Meereen for Dragonstone, my home and the home of my family. Home of the Targaryens, where dragons soared through the skies and my family was alive. Oh at least until King Robert Baratheon started the rebellion and usurped what is rightfully mine.

Tyrion: Your Majesty, can I talk about something with you? - asks knocking on the door of my chambers and sticking his head out.

Daenerys: I didn't think there was anything left to say after our talk a couple of hours ago.- I comment confused, stopping helping Missandei to pick up my clothes and alluding to our conversation about leaving Daario in Meereen ruling on my behalf.

Tyrion: And there wasn't.- He assures me entering my chambers and walking towards the wine table.

Daenerys: So what do you want to talk about? - I ask confused, walking towards where she is and sitting in one of the chairs.

Tyrion: Five minutes ago a letter arrived from King's Landing.- he announces, pouring himself a glass of wine. -A letter reporting the death of Tommen Baratheon, the coronation of my sister Cercei and the alleged disappearance of my last living nephew.- He informs me, sipping his wine.

Daenerys: I'm sorry for the death of your nephew Tyrion.- I assure him with a small sad smile. -The coronation of Cercei was something that we both saw coming, what I don't understand is why mention your other nephew.- I comment confused.

I have known Tyrion for a year and he has hardly ever talked about his family. The times he has done it has been to make a negative comment against his sister and father. His nephews are something he rarely talks about and when he does he never mentions them much.

Tyrion: I am afraid of the well-being of my nephew, my queen.- He assures me with some concern. -He is the only one who can take my sister's crown and his disappearance could not have happened on a better occasion for Cercei.- he tells me. -I fear for the life of my nephew, he has never been very loved by his mother and as much as he is her last living son, my sister does not have much esteem for his life.- he explains to me and I avoid opening my eyes surprised by what that my hand is insinuating.

Daenerys: But it's her son, I don't think that your sister, no matter how bad she is, inflicts pain and less death on her own blood.- I deny scared by the idea of it.

Tyrion: And believe me I wish that was the case.- Agrees with me. -But I know my sister, I know her ambitions and what she is capable of doing to get what she wants.- he assures me and I see the slight panic in her eyes.

Daenerys: You fear that your nephew is dead or is going to die so that Cercei keeps the crown.- I say a little unsure, understanding what he means and receiving a nod. -And what can I do? - I ask interested and wanting to help.

Tyrion: Just take him in.- He answers me simply and I look at him confused.

Daenerys: Take him in? What do you mean by that?- I ask in confusion.

Tyrion: The letter has reached Varys from one of his contacts, in the letter they report on the disappearance of my nephew and the extra presence of guards in the castle dungeons.- he tells me calmly.

Daenerys: But I still don't understand what my role is in this.- I comment still confused with the situation.

Tyrion: Varys has contacts in the city, contacts that can free my nephew and put him on the first ship to Dragonstone or a nearby port.- He explains to me and I see where he is going.

Daenerys: And you want me to take in one of the sons of a traitor, a usurper and the same person who kicked my family out of his home.- I assure myself, getting up from the chair furious.

Tyrion: I know it's a lot to ask my queen, but as the saying goes for you; it also does it for my nephew.- He comments, leaving the glass on the table. -You are not your father and you cannot be blamed for what he did in the past, therefore; my nephew should not be judged for the acts of his father as you have not been for those of your father.- It reminds me of the phrase that I myself have repeated several times.

Daenerys: I know you're right about that, but I don't think I can trust the son of my enemy.- I deny going out to the terrace of my rooms.

Tyrion: Please my queen.- he asks me leaving behind me. -I'm not asking you to trust him, but to trust me and give my nephew an option.-  he says pleadingly.

Daenerys: I don't think it's the best time Tyrion, we're just a little bit away from getting my throne and proclaiming my position as queen.- I remind him seriously.

Tyrion: That's why my nephew can help you proclaim the throne.- he says quickly.

Daenerys: How can your nephew help me? - I ask without understanding.

Tyrion: Y/n Baratheon is the only legitimate son of King Robert, he is the true heir to the throne and believe it or not, he is very loved by the people in King´s Landing.- he answers me quickly.

Daenerys: I don't know Tyrion, I'm not sure.- I say a little worried. -Because if he is the heir, he has never before risen to the throne and has allowed his brothers to be kings?- I ask curiously.

Tyrion: The day his father was attacked by a wild boar, he was hunting with Robert and blamed himself for his death.- he tells me with a small grimace. -He refused to accept the crown because he felt guilty, at that time Y/n was 17 years old and seeing his father, the only person who really wanted him to die before his eyes destroyed him.- he explains to me and I can't help but feel sorry for him.

Daenerys: And then, because Tommen was crowned and not Y/n? - I ask interested.

Tyrion: I don't know, my queen, but I wouldn't doubt my sister's presence in her decision and in the coronation of Tommen instead of Y/n.- He answers me and I think for a few seconds.

Daenerys: Okay.- I nod letting out a sigh. - Tell Varys to get a ship to take him to Sharp point and you will go look for him on a ship to take him to Dragonstone.- I tell him seriously.

Tyrion: Thank you very much, Your Majesty.- He thanks me with a huge smile before running out of my chambers.

I stay silent for a few seconds, enjoying the views of meereen for a few last moments and going back inside my bedroom. I see Missandei putting away my clothes and I go back to help her pick up.

Missandei: It is very generous of you to help young Baratheon, Daenerys.- She assures me with a shy smile.

Daenerys: I don't know if it's generous or not, but I just hope it doesn't bring me problems.- I whisper with a sigh.

I hope that Tyrion does not betray me and his nephew tries to assassinate me on the orders of his made. I don't want to regret opening the doors to both of them and ending up having to kill them both for treason. I just hope this doesn't blow up in my face.

POV You

I don't know how long I've been locked up in the dungeon, I don't know if it's been just hours, days, weeks or months. All I want is to die. I don't want to remember, I don't want to think and above all; I don't want to feel

I have lost everything, I lost my father and the only father figure who loved me almost seven years ago. I lost my only sister, the most innocent and joyful person I've known a little over a year ago. I've lost the only brother who showed me affection and appreciation for nothing, practically the same time I've been locked up here.

But that's not the worst of it. Not only have I lost my last brother, but I have lost the woman I loved and who loved me forever. Besides that I lost them the same day.

I know that many would be surprised and would raise their voices in contempt if they knew the truth. If they only knew that while my beloved, Margaery Tyrell was publicly with my brother Tommen and privately with me.

It wasn't my brightest idea to fall in love with my brother Joffrey's fiancee, but I couldn't help it and I don't regret it either. I have never been as happy as with Margaery; like when we spent sleepless nights in my rooms, talking, reading books and making love for hours.

For her I was going to declare my right to the throne after Joffrey's death, so I could be with her and we could marry. But my mother reminded me that if I wasn't even able to protect and save my own father, how could I protect an entire kingdom.

I had to watch as the love of my life married my younger brother, while I watched from a corner and suffered in silence to see the person I loved marrying my own blood.

But that didn't mean anything within the four walls of my bedroom, Margaery kept coming every night and we showed how much we loved each other. Or at least we did, until my mother had the Sept of Baelor destroyed with Margaery and the Sparrow inside.

That was the last thing I saw, before my mother's guards entered my chambers and brought me to the dungeons. The green color of wildfire and how the Sept was exploding being my last memories of the outside.

I can't sleep, remembering that deep green and Margaery's face smiling between my sheets every time my eyes close. So to avoid remembering, I avoid sleeping and close my eyes for no less than two seconds.

I jump where I am sitting on the floor, when I hear the door close and see how it begins to open. I just mentally prepare myself for what's to come, knowing that the only three times that door has been opened it hasn't been to feed me; but rather so that my mother's soldiers beat me to know what my place is.

I swallow hard, when I see two soldiers enter the dungeon in a rush and clearly in a hurry.

XY: Get up.- one of them orders me and I can only look at them confused. -Get up.- he growls, approaching me and pulling my arm up.

XY2: We don't have much time, we only have twenty minutes until they realize the lack of soldiers at your door and that you've disappeared to get on the ship.- the second explains to me, imitating his partner, when he sees that I can't walk very well and helping me to walk.

Y/n: Where are we going? - I ask with a hoarse voice, for not having spoken in time and for the lack of water.

XY2: First you'll go to Sharp point and there they'll pick you up to go somewhere.- He answers me walking quickly and securing my arm around his shoulders.

Y/n: But who is going to come for me? - I ask completely confused and with a cloudy mind.

Probably due to the lack of food, water, light and lack of movement since I've been in the dungeon.

XY: We think that Varys, we owed him a favor and you must be important to him, because he asked us to get you out of here.- He answers me with a slight grunt.

They hurriedly walk through the underground corridors of the castle, carrying me on their shoulders and carrying me towards the small beach behind the castle. Once outside, I see that it is night and I can see a small boat on the shore of the beach.

They lift me onto the boat, quickly stripping off their uniforms and pushing the boat out into the water.

XY2: Now we'll get you on a bigger ship and you'll have to hide in a box until they tell you to leave.- He informs me and I nod seeing the castle where I've grown further and further away.

I don't know how much time has passed since they put me on the ship, they put me in a box with holes in the hold and they left me locked up here. What I can tell is that there is a big storm, by the way the ship moves and by the sound of thunder.

The only positive part of this is the bread and water that I have been given as soon as I have been put in the box. My stomach and throat greatly appreciate those two things.

Suddenly one of the walls of the box opens, causing me to fall on my back and jump out of the box suddenly. I widen my eyes in surprise, fearing that it was someone helping my mother and that I would give myself to her again.

But my eyes fill with tears, when my eyes connect with familiar blue ones and a smile full of affection. I throw myself at my uncle, hugging him with all my strength and ignoring the pain in my body as I do so.

Y/n: You're alive, mother said you were dead.- I whisper separating myself from the hug to see better. -You're older.- I comment and he laughs yes in response.

Tyrion: And you look horrible.- He says to me, pointing at me, and it's the first time I've seen my clothes.

What used to be a dark gray jacket of good linen, with a black shirt underneath and black pants; it is no longer what it was before the dungeon. Now I'm just wearing the shirt, pants and shoes.

The shirt is dirty and torn in some places, where the guards grabbed me or where they made a cut where you can still see the dried blood. While the pants are just dirty and slightly torn at the bottom.

Y/n: Where have you been? - I ask confused.

Tyrion: It's a long story and I'd rather tell you at another time.- He answers me seriously. -Now we have to get out of here and take you to Dragonstone right away.- he informs me and I try to get up, but my legs fail me and I end up falling to the ground on my knees.

Y/n: I can't.- I whisper, feeling the pain in my muscles.

Tyrion: Wait two seconds.- He says and leaves the cellar with quick steps.

Not much happens, until my uncle comes back with a soldier and he puts my arm around his shoulders. With the help of the soldier, the three of us walked out and, crossing a wooden bridge, got on the next boat.

Tyrion: Soon we will arrive at the castle, where you can take a bath and where you can clean those wounds.- Points to one of the cuts that can be seen thanks to the hole in the shirt.

Y/n: Thank you.- I whisper sitting on the chair and trying to keep my eyes open.

Tyrion: When was the last time you slept or ate? - He asks me, clearly worried.

Y/n: I don't know.- I answer honestly. -I haven't eaten or slept since the explosion in the Sept of Baelor.- I comment and I see how he opens his eyes completely surprised.

Tyrion: Y/n that was a week ago.- he whispers and I open my eyes in surprise. -I think the best thing would be to take you to one of the cabins so you can sleep a bit.-  he says, getting up from his chair.

Y/n: No.- I quickly refuse. -I don't need to sleep.- I assure him with open eyes.

Tyrion: Y/n it's not true, you do need to sleep and you would agree with me if you saw yourself in a mirror.- He points to my face and I look away.

Y/n: I'm fine.- I assure her in a whisper, swallowing hard and refusing to sleep.

Tyrion: I'm your uncle, I've known you since the day you were born and I know when you lie.- He points out, approaching me and sitting back in his chair. -What's wrong? Why don't you want to sleep? - He asks me worried.

Y/n: I can't.- I admit without wanting to look at him.

Tyrion: But why can't you? - He asks me, clearly interested and worried about my state.

Y/n: Because every time I close my eyes, the only thing I see is the vibrant green color of wildfire and her face.- I answer in barely a whisper, feeling my eyes water again and my throat close.

Tyrion: Whose face? - asks without understanding anything.

Y/n: Her face.- I answer without wanting to specify.

Tyrion: I don't understand Y/n, you have to be more specific and tell me the face of who you see.- he asks me and I bite my lip to avoid crying.

Y/n: Margaery.- I whisper almost without a voice, feeling a tear slide down my cheek and fall on my hand in my lap.

Tyrion: Oh nephew.- he whispers getting up from his chair and approaching me to place his hand on mine. - Everything will pass, love and losses hurt for a while, but then that pain disappears and just becomes a ghost of memory. - He assures me, leaving a squeeze on my hand and trying to comfort me.

We sit in silence for a few moments, with me crying for the first time since Tommen and Margaery died. One week. It's been a week and I don't know it. Did they have a decent funeral?

Y/n: Why are we going to Dragonstone? - I ask, breaking the silence and wanting to talk about something else.

Tyrion: Because the next queen of the seven kingdoms awaits us, your future ally and the woman who will change the world.- He answers vaguely, but I am very tired both emotionally and physically; how to ask for more

Do you guys think that the parts are too long? Or they have a good lenght?

NEXT

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[averagewriter-inthedark]

Blood Of The Dragon 🐉 | GOT Imagine

Takes place during season 8 of Game of Thrones

GOT Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Targaryen!reader named after Queen Visenya, Daenerys Targaryen (cousin/platonic), Jon Snow (cousin/platonic), Arya Stark (platonic), Jorah Mormont (platonic), Missandei (platonic), Greyworm (platonic), Tyrion Lannister (platonic)

Content Warnings: profanity,, mentions of violence, blood, and death. references to Fire & Blood by G.R.R.M. | female reader (she/her)) | wc: 3k+

Premise: in preparation against the army of the dead, Arya Stark finds herself in the presence of Daenerys cousin—whose namesake is that of the great warrior Arya’s idolized since childhood. Visenya Targaryen, second of her name, lives up to the tales of her predecessor, and what makes the young Stark even more amazed is she’s wielding the sword thought to have vanished centuries ago.

Note: this sorta has spoilers from the book Fire & Blood which then gives light spoilers to HOTD. Keep that in mind.

——————————————

In the stories passed down from generation to generation of Aegon’s Conquest, the tale of Queen Visenya Targaryen has always drawn attention to the young Stark of Winterfell. It is said the female warrior, eldest sister-wife to Aegon and rider of the great she-dragon, Vhagar, wielded her very own Valyrian steel sword she named Dark Sister. She was skilled with the blade, effortlessing cutting Aegon’s cheek when he claimed he did not need further protection when the Queen demanded he did. When her only son, Maegor—soon to be known as King Maegor the Cruel—turned thirteen years of age, Queen Visenya bestowed the sword to him. Dark Sister was placed on the chamber walls of Dragonstone when he was given Aegon’s own Blackfyre, opting the latter as his choice of steel in battle.

When Queen Visenya died on Dragonstone forty-four years after the conquest of her and her siblings, Dark Sister was stolen by Queen Alyssa Velaryon and used in the coronation of her son King Jaehaerys following the death of Maegor. For generations the blade was passed down to Targaryen warriors. Baelon wielded and avenged the death of his brother with Dark Sister, soon later Prince Daemon would use the famed sword during the Dance of Dragons. It is even said Daemon leaped from his dragon to slain his nephew, Aemond, by thrusting Dark Sister through his eye socket.

After Dark Sister belonged to the Dragonknight, Prince Aemon, it was given to Lord Brydnen Rivers, who traveled with the blade to the Wall when he joined the Night’s Watch. The blade was never seen again after he went beyond the Wall. Until 305 years after the Conquest.

As Arya stalked down the halls of the castle, Northmen, Knights of the Vale, Dothraki, and Unsullied passed by around her. Murmurs sounded, many on edge as they prepared for the upcoming conflict. Arya was on the hunt for one of her siblings. She mostly wanted to find Jon to discuss battle plans since most of the Lords refused to include her in their conversations. Sansa was busy and Bran was nowhere to be found. There wasn’t much time till the night fell upon them. And when it did, they would come face to face with the Army of the Dead.

Cutting the corner, Arya made her way into a room thinking it was where Jon had gone, but stopped short at the sight of a longsword laying flat on the table. It was silver in steel, thin compared to most swords, and had a hilt reddish in color. A red ruby-like jewel shined in the middle between the handle and the blade.

Never seeing the sword before Arya tilted her head in curiosity. Giving a sweep around the room, no one appeared so the girl assumed she was alone and took the chance to approach the table. She leaned down to get a better look, capturing her own reflection in the steel. It was a beautiful weapon. Unlike anything the girl had seen before. Looking at it up close she saw it had a dragon head as its pommel. She carefully brought her hand to stoke the flat end, coming in contact with the cool surface.

“Valyrian steel,” she said aloud with awe. The girl realized the similarity between the sword and her knife she had holstered on her hip. The one Bran gave her which Baelish had stolen.

“Yes, it is.” In the blink of an eye Arya whipped the knife from its holster and spun around, freezing when she met the purplish eyes of a woman standing before her. Wearing dark clothing similar to the Dragon Queen, she had the same white-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail with two strands framing her face. Her features alone indicated she was of Valyrian blood, and two houses associated with possessing said blood were none other than the Targaryens and Valeryons. Arya assumed she had to be a relative of Daenerys in some way.

There was an empty holster tied to her hip, and Arya understood right then that the sword more than likely belonged to her.

Scanning over the small blade directed at her, the woman’s lips curled in a smirk, showing she did not feel threatened. “You have great taste in weaponry.” Tilting her head, it appeared as though she felt a sense of familiarity with the dagger. She obviously was aware it was made of the same steel of her sword. “How did you come into possession of such?”

Arya hesitated, but seeing the woman made no motion to attack or give sign she attempted to, Arya lowered her arm. “My brother. We don’t know who it belonged to. The man who had it before him probably nicked it from whoever.”

The woman gives a ‘Hmm’ stepping closer to the girl but stopped when she saw her stiffen. Nodding to the dagger while extending her hand, she said, “May I?” Arya glanced at her hand, then at the dagger before gently placing it in her open palm. She watched in silence as her purple eyes glanced over the blade, flipping it over and running a finger over the indents of the edge. “I wonder,” her voice went low, lifting her head to glance at the fireplace that was fully engulfed with flames.

Stepping aside, Arya followed behind the blonde as she approached the fireplace before bending down to be level. With her hand on the hilt, she thrust the dagger into the fire, the silver steel becoming a bright orange with the heat being forced upon it. Arya watched in amazement when small scripture of writing revealed a language she did not recognize. The woman withdrew the dagger and stood, standing in front of Arya with her attention on the engraved words.

“Hen Issa ānogar māzigon kivio prince, se zyhon jāhor sagon se vāedar hen suvion se perzys,” the Valyrian words naturally flew from her lips. Arya had never heard the ancient language of Old Valyria, but learned as a child it was the language of its people and the Targaryen dynasty of Westeros still spoke the mother tongue even centuries after their conquest.

“What does it mean?” She couldn’t help but ask. Had she thought to have put the blade in fire before, Arya never would have known what the engraving meant. She didn’t even think the maester had a book that could translate it if she wanted.

The woman read over the words once more, this time using the common tongue, “From my blood comes the prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire.” She lifts her head to connect her eyes with Arya, purple meeting blue. “When King Viserys, the first of his name, made it known to his daughter Rhaenyra she was to be his heir, he spoke of a prophecy King Aegon the Conqueror had in a dragon dream. The Conqueror had the last Valyrian pyromancers incise the prophecy into a Valyrian steel dagger that once belonged to his father. The blade was passed through the Targaryen line for generations to come and only fire….,” she glances at the flames briefly, “Could reveal the words hidden within the steel.”

It took a moment for Arya to piece together what the woman was implying. The look on her face was one that read, ‘Have you guessed yet, young one?’ When her breath caught in her throat, the girl couldn’t help but shake her head—almost as if she denied the truth. “You don’t mean….it can’t be.”

“Oh, but it is,” she chuckled, carefully handing the dagger back to Arya. The girl almost refused—believing there was no way she could possess a weapon that once belonged to Aegon. And if her assumption was correct and the woman before her was a Targaryen, then it should rightfully go to the Conqueror's descendent.

“I couldn’t possibly have—.” The woman gently cuts her off at the refusal.

“But it was yours. You’ve had it for this long, I believe it is best to stay in your possession. It may be of great use to you—if it hasn’t already.”

Arya bit back a smile, the memory of her slashing Baelish’s throat coming to her mind. She took the dagger and placed it back in her holster. “Thank you. It is an honor to have.” Her eyes linger on the knife before drawing back up to the woman. “I never got your name.”

Clasping her hands in front of her, Arya noticed the three cuffed rings on her hand with three little dragon heads. She gave a small smile as if to say, ‘nice touch.’ A second later Arya was still shocked again when she heard the name, “Visenya. Visenya Targaryen.”

A sharp breath left the girl, “Visenya,” she repeated, “Like Queen Visenya? Who helped conquer Westeros and burned nearly half of the Arryn fleet with the dragon, Vhagar?” She probably would’ve felt embarrassed by her reaction, but standing in the presence of a Targaryen who bore the name of one of her idols had her not caring. Already she was feeling emotional at owning Aegon’s blade, this moment was adding a whole other layer.

Visenya let out a low chuckle, “the one and only.” She stepped back to pour a glass of wine from the side table into a goblet. She poured a second and offered it to Arya, who thanked her as she took it in her hands. “I take it you’re fond of her?”

“Yes,” Arya replied after sipping the wine. “I only really paid attention to lessons on her, her sister Queen Rhaenys, and Princess Nymeria.” Arya smiled when she laughed again. “Are you Dae—Her Grace’s sister?” There was still trouble with referring to Daenerys as Queen. Like Sansa, Arya was torn at the decision Jon made when he bent the knee and relinquished his crown as King in the North. On the topic of the Dragon Queen’s family, it was Arya’s knowledge from listening in on the Lords in King’s Landing that she was the last Targaryen. It was a surprise to see that was not the case.

“No. We are cousins. My family…” Visenya trails off, debating whether or not to reveal her heritage. It was a sore subject, one she always kept hidden for the sake of not having to deal with the looks she receives from people who are well aware of the tales of her family. Taking a sip of wine, she finally said, “Daenerys' father was the nephew of my grandfather, Prince Duncan.” Having turned to her side, Visenya could see the visible reaction from Arya in her peripheral vision.

Most people in Westeros had heard the stories of Prince Duncan and his wife, Jenny of Oldstones. How the heir apparent to the Iron Throne had relinquished his title and refused to marry his betrothed in favor of the strange yet lovely girl he met while traveling along the Riverruns. Many songs were written about her, including the famous one where she danced with her ghosts after Prince Duncan was killed. There was no record if the couple had ever conceived a child, but with Visenya there in the flesh and claiming they were her grandparents, it is enough to assume they decided to keep it a secret.

It made Arya wonder how she managed to stay under the radar during Rober’s Rebellion when he was hunting Targaryens. Daenerys and her brother were forced into exile and sailed to Esos. She wondered if Visenya had been at Dragonstone all along and was with them on the journey. Sensing the woman did not want to broach the subject further, Arya drew attention to the sword laid out in front of them. “Is it yours?” When Visenya nodded Arya said, “It’s beautiful.”

“You may hold it if you like,” she offered, refilling her goblet. There was a smirk on her face, as if she knew something Arya didn’t. But then again, she did. And part of her couldn’t wait to reveal it knowing the young girl had a fascination with her namesake.

Arya did a double take between the Targaryen and the sword, shock ridden all over her expression. Visenya nodded, affirming it was okay which had Arya place her goblet on the table and take the longsword in her hands. It surprised the young Stark at how light the blade was. Although it had some weight, it was not as nearly as heavy as what Ice had been. “Wow,” she breathed out, “I didn’t expect it to be so…light.”

Visenya took a seat in the chair at the head of the table, watching Arya become infatuated with the weapon. “It is said it was crafted solely for a female warrior. It’s why it is so slim and light compared to other Valyrian swords—makes it effortless for the owner to wield.” She takes a swig of wine, gulping it before casually adding, “I mean Queen Visenya cut her brother's cheek with it before his guards could react.”

The one sentence had Arya stiffen, the blade going still in her hands as she felt her eyes widen to the size of saucers. Her reflection stared back at her, and the girl had to clear her now dry throat when the words stuttered out, “T-this—is this what I think it is?” She slowly looked up to see Visenya giving her the same smirk she did earlier. It got her heart pumping. “This is Dark Sister?”

“The one and only,” Visenya repeated the phrase, this time with a chuckle. She could understand the reaction from the Stark. Dark Sister was a legend in itself. One of two ancestral swords of the Targaryen family.

“B-but how?” Arya looked at the sword before turning back to the woman. “How—I mean, Dark Sister was lost beyond the Wall when Lord Brynden Rivers disappeared. Its whereabouts have been unknown for the last fifty years.”

Placing her now empty goblet down on the table, Visenya clasped her hands in her lap. “It was missing—for the amount of time you mentioned.” Arya just shook her head with confusion, “Then how—?”

“When your brother went beyond the Wall to retrieve a wright, I accompanied him alongside Ser Jorah. We traveled to East Watch-by-the-sea, met up with some old friends who would join us on our quest. But before we headed out, I took it upon myself to scout the castle. Like you I was well aware Dark Sister hadn’t been seen for decades.” Visenya pauses to stand, coming next to Arya and glancing down at the sword in her hands. “I was curious whether the tale of it was true, or, if there were details left out. My suspicion was correct when I practically turned the room that once belonged to the commander of East Watch upside down in my search. It was hidden in a space between the walls.”

Arya, still in awe of the weapon she held, couldn’t help but question, “How did you know it was Dark Sister?” It was a fair question. If the roles were reversed, Visenya would have questioned the story.

“My father described to me what the blade looked like, what best he could from the stories of his father and his father before that. The last Targaryen it belonged to was the Dragonknight, Prince Aemon. And since the blade was last seen with the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, it was no surprise, to me per say, that it would end up in the hands of another brother. A Valyrian steel blade with a dragon pommel at one of the Night Watch’s bases?” Visenya tilts her head with mock wonder, “was not hard to put two and two together.”

An old memory played out in Arya’s mind. It was from years ago, the first and only time she met the legendary Tywin Lannister. She remembered the conversation she had where Queen Visenya and Dark Sister were brought up. It was a fond memory, despite the events leading up and following. Had someone told her that one day she’d be holding the sword she once dreamed of seeing, she’d tell them to fuck off and stop fooling around.

But here she was. Holding said sword that once belonged to the great Queen of Westeros.

A knock at the door had her jump, nearly fumbling when she placed the sword on the table. Glancing up, she met the eyes of Jon, who was looking between the two with an unreadable expression.

“Forgive me,” he starts, eyes flickering to Dark Sister which was now being sheathed in Visenya’s holstered. “The Queen has called a meeting with all her advisors and the Lords. We’re discussing battle strategy.”

“Ah, of course,” Visenya steps around the table to make her way out of the room. When she gets to Jon, she stops, turning to face Arya. Raising her brow, she stuns the girl by saying, “Well, are you not coming?”

Jon freezes. Like Arya, he is shocked at the Targaryen’s suggestion. “My Lady, my sister is not a member of council.” Jon could see Arya’s shoulders drop. The pleading look on her face nearly had Jon regretting his words.

“And?” Visneya surprised them both again. “If we are going to work together, best to have all who’re fighting know the plans. Besides,” she cast a look at the girl, who was now fighting the urge to react. “Your sister has quite the fighting experience from what Lady Brienne has told me. She may teach us a thing or two.” Only Arya saw the way Vinsenya's eyes flickered down to the blade attached to her hip. Aegon’s dagger.

“Come now,” she then says, turning on her heel to leave. “Must not keep the Queen waiting.” Leaving the two Starks, who were still frozen, Visenya makes her way down the halls. It takes Arya a moment or two to snap out of her shock before speeding past Jon.

As she approaches the room where the meeting is to be held, Visenya runs into Daenerys walking in the opposite direction. “Ah, there you are, cousin,” the Queen greets, with Tyrion and Missandei on either side. Visenya bows her head and says, “Your Grace.” No matter how many times Dany had told Visenya she didn’t have to refer to the woman by her titles, Visenya always did. Dany shakes her head, smiling at the woman.

“Where did you run off to?” The two enter the room together, the Lords, Ladies, and advisors following moments later. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh, I had misplaced my sword,” Visenya was aware Arya arrived with Jon, the two moving to the area closest to where the Targaryens were conversing. At the sight of Arya’s blush, Visenya could tell the girl was listening in.

Daenerys chuckled, as though she expected the answer from her cousin. “You’ve got to be more careful about your weapons, Vis. Anyone could have taken it. You never told me how you came to possess it.”

Arya’s posture straightened, sneaking a glance at the women to find Daenerys back to her. Visenya was facing her, and Arya saw the blonde’s lips curl in a knowing smirk. “Oh, this thing,” she gestured to the object, as though it was anything but the weapon from Targaryen legend. “Just came across it. No one claimed it, so I took it upon myself to. I was in need of a sword as you know, my last one had an unfortunate end in Meereen.”

‘Was she not going to tell her?’ Arya thought to herself. It confused her why Visenya would not tell her cousin, the Queen, that the blade was Dark Sister. Why would she keep it to herself? Maybe the woman planned to after the battle. Maybe she feared Daenerys would lay claim to it. Or maybe, she just wanted to keep the mystery of Dark Sister in the air.

And when the Stark met the purple eyes of Visenya Targaryen, she was met with a wink. Arya felt her own smirk, giving a nod and turning away to listen as Jon called the meeting to attention.

The secret of Dark Sister and Aegon’s blade would remain with the blood of the dragon.

#game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #daenerys targeryan #Daenerys Targaryen imagine #Jon snow #Jon snow imagine #Arya stark #Arya stark imagine #got fanfic #got fanfiction #targaryen!reader #visenya targaryen #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #daenerys targaryen x reader #jon snow x reader #Arya stark x reader

[in-my-feels-probably]

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

A Dragon In The North

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

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

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

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

—

You didn’t know how it happened. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t anything. 

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed at his words. 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You guarded your secret once more.

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

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

You had to help her. 

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so. Now wait here.”

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

—

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

“Get in here.”

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

“I fear I may have upset her.”

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

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

You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath. 

“Wolf it is, then.”

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

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

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

Jon shook his head, lightly correcting her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Daenerys understood that. 

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

You nodded, pressing your cheek into her palm. 

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I’ll have you.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” 

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

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

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

You nodded, pondering her words for a moment. 

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

Daenerys didn’t answer, making you frown. You continued. 

“She’s been through a lot, love. It’ll take time, both for her and for the North. But they’ll come to see you just as I see you. It didn’t take Jon long, did it? They’ll follow him, which means they’ll follow you, eventually. I promise.”

“And you follow me?” She asked, turning to you. The look of vulnerability in her eyes broke your heart.

“I’d follow you anywhere. You know I would.”

She smiled at your words, relaxing a bit. If she could get a direwolf to follow her, a creature of the true North, then the rest of the North would follow. Everything would be alright. 

“That’s enough for me,” she grinned, squeezing your hand tight. “You’re enough for me.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope this is what you were looking for, and I hope you enjoyed it!

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