#daenerys imagine

[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

[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 𝟐𝟎����𝟐 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

[fandomnerd9602]

Daenerys x abused reader

Daeny tends to Y/N’s wounds…

Her dragons feed on Y/N’s former master…

Daeny: No one will ever hurt you again. You are free now.

Y/N: can I be yours?

Daeny: always

Daeny gently kisses Y/N…

#daenerys targeryan #queen daenerys #daenerys stormborn #daenerys x reader #daenerys mother of dragons #daenerys targaryen #yandere daenerys #Daenerys imagine #game of thrones fluff #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got incorrect quotes #got #emilia clarke

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Legacy of Fire (II)

Chapter Two: Departure

Summery: Vaeloria Targaryen begins her journey

Warnings: Cursing, death by sword, death by fire, death by hanging, war, humiliation, betrayal, violence, use of the word bastard, incest, angst, fluff, burning, threatening, future smut, P in V, fingering, cunnilingus, scissoring, blowjob, handjob, anal sex, girl x girl, boy x girl, boy x boy, dragons

Word Count: 2,6K

The moon hung low in the night sky, its pale light casting long, ghostly shadows across the chamber of Vaeloria Targaryen. The room, once a sanctuary where she had dreamt of dragons and heroic deeds, now seemed oppressive, its walls closing in around her. She moved with a sense of purpose, packing her belongings into a simple leather satchel.

Gently, she folded her Targaryen garments, each thread infused with the weight of her heritage. The dragon and wolf pendant, its silver chain cold against her fingers, rested next to her heart. It was a reminder of the legacy she bore, a legacy she had only recently discovered.

Her father, Rhaegar Targaryen, had always been a distant figure in her life, his memory a hazy specter of a time she could barely recall. The tales of his songs and prophecies had always intrigued her, but they had never truly defined her until now.

As she reached for a well-worn book of Dornish poetry, a soft, hesitant knock sounded at her chamber door. She paused, her heart quickening, and then hurriedly stashed the book in her satchel. Her life had become a tapestry of secrets, woven together with threads of deception and danger.

“Come in,” she called, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her.

The door swung open, revealing two figures who slipped into the room with the grace of whispers. They were Tyene and Elia Martell, her cousins, the daughters of Oberyn Martell. Their expressions were a blend of confusion and concern, their eyes wide with worry.

“Rhaenys,” Tyene began, using the name they had known her by for years, “what are you doing? Why are you packing in the dead of night?”

Elia’s hazel eyes, so much like her sister’s, mirrored her worry. “Is something wrong?” she asked softly.

Vaeloria hesitated for a moment, torn between her duty to keep her true identity hidden and her love for her cousins. She couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet, not until she understood it fully herself. “I’ve had restless dreams,” she replied carefully, “and a yearning for something more than what Sunspear can offer. I need to find myself, to discover who I truly am.”

Tyene and Elia exchanged uncertain glances. “But why so suddenly?” Tyene pressed. “And in the middle of the night?”

Vaeloria knew she needed a convincing lie, a tale spun from threads of half-truths and crafted with the care of a practiced storyteller. “I’ve heard whispers,” she said, her voice tinged with false concern, “whispers of a Targaryen resurgence, of a new dawn for our family. I cannot ignore it. I want to see the truth for myself, to be a part of this change.”

Elia’s expression softened, and she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch Vaeloria’s arm. “You could be in danger out there,” she said, her voice filled with sisterly concern. “You must take someone with you, at least for your safety.”

Vaeloria’s heart sank. She had hoped to slip away unnoticed, to embark on this journey alone, but her cousins’ protective instincts were unyielding. After a moment’s thought, she relented, realising that their concern was rooted in genuine love for her.

“Very well,” she said, her voice tinged with reluctant acceptance. “I’ll take Lara, my trusted maid, and Ser Ian Caerlight, my sworn protector. They will ensure my safety.”

Tyene and Elia exchanged glances once more, finally relenting. “Promise us you’ll return safely,” Tyene implored.

Vaeloria nodded, her eyes glistening with gratitude for her cousins’ love and concern. “I promise.”

With that, she closed up her satchel, her hands trembling as she secured the last of her possessions. The room felt emptier now, as if a piece of her heart had been packed away with her belongings.

As they left her chambers, Tyene and Elia walked by her side, their presence a comforting reminder of the family she would leave behind. They descended the grand staircase of Sunspear, the ancient castle that had been her home, and stepped out into the moonlit courtyard.

The night air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the Dornish sun she had known all her life. Vaeloria felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as she crossed the threshold. Her departure marked the beginning of a journey filled with secrets and uncertainty, a journey into the heart of Westeros where she would uncover the truth of her lineage and fulfil the legacy she carried in her heart.

Under the watchful gazes of Tyene and Elia, Vaeloria took her first steps into the moonlit night, accompanied by her trusted Lara, her loyal maid, stood by her side, her dark eyes filled with determination. Ser Ian Caerlight, a towering figure in gleaming armor, had taken his place as her sworn protector. The road ahead was shrouded in darkness, but Vaeloria was determined to navigate it with courage and purpose.

She turned to her cousins one last time, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft but filled with gratitude. “For understanding, for caring.”

Tyene embraced her tightly, whispering words of love and encouragement. Elia followed suit, her hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Take care of yourself, Rhaenys,” Elia said, using the name they had always known her by, a name she no longer possessed, it did not belong to her. This name she did not deserve, apparently the story of a servant's child having taken the place of poor baby Rhaenys was a lie after all and the real one had died the horrible death people shuddered when reminded of. Vaeloria wanted to tell them, but she did not have the heart to throw this truth in their faces, their poor hearts wouldn't be able to take it, not after their father's death, not after everything they've been through.

With their blessings and promises of reunion, Vaeloria, Lara, and Ser Ian Caerlight set out into the night, leaving behind the familiar walls of Sunspear. The path ahead was unknown, a tapestry of uncertainty waiting to be unraveled.

As they ventured further from the palace, Vaeloria couldn’t help but wonder about the truths she would uncover and the challenges she would face. Her heart beat with a sense of adventure and the weight of her true name, Vaeloria, that had been revealed to her, a name that meant the Valiant Queen in the language of her ancestors, a language she insisted to learn from a young age.

With each step, she moved closer to her destiny, determined to rewrite the story of House Targaryen and fulfil the legacy she carried within her. The journey had begun, and Vaeloria Targaryen was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

The night was alive with the sounds of Dorne as Vaeloria and her small retinue made their way through the winding streets of Sunspear. The city had always been a place of vibrant colours, exotic scents, and bustling markets, but tonight, it seemed different, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to change.

Lara, Vaeloria’s trusted maid, walked beside her, her steps soft and sure. She had been with Vaeloria since childhood, a loyal confidante who had shared in both her joys and sorrows. Her presence brought comfort to the young Targaryen as they navigated the unfamiliar terrain of secrecy and uncertainty.

Ser Ian Caerlight, the sworn protector assigned to her by House Martell, kept a vigilant watch over their surroundings. His armour gleamed in the moonlight, and the hilt of his sword was within easy reach. He had sworn an oath to safeguard Vaeloria’s life, and he took that duty with the utmost seriousness.

As the moon cast its silvery glow upon the road ahead, Vaeloria could no longer bear the weight of her hidden truth. Lara and Ser Ian Caerlight had been her loyal companions, steadfast in their support, and they deserved to know the full extent of her identity.

Vaeloria slowed her pace, causing Lara and Ser Ian to do the same. Her voice quivered with the magnitude of the revelation she was about to make. “Lara, Ser Ian,” she began, “there is something I’ve kept from you, something that no one else in this world knows.”

Both Lara and Ser Ian turned their attention to Vaeloria, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern. The night seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to continue.

“I am not who I’ve pretended to be,” Vaeloria confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I am not Rhaenys Targaryen. My true name is Vaeloria. Vaeloria Targaryen.”

The words hung in the air, a revelation that shattered the foundation of the life they had known. Lara’s eyes widened in disbelief, while Ser Ian’s stern countenance softened with understanding.

Vaeloria nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the truth. “Yes,” she confirmed. “Jon Snow is my brother, and we were separated at birth to protect us from those who wished harm upon House Targaryen.”

Ser Ian, ever the stoic protector, absorbed the revelation with a sense of duty. “My lady,” he said, addressing Vaeloria by her true name, “your safety and your mission remain our highest priorities. Your lineage does not change our loyalty to you.”

Lara’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she spoke. “You are our lady, Vaeloria Targaryen, the true heir of House Targaryen. We will stand by your side, as we always have.”

Vaeloria felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude. Her decision to reveal her true identity had been a momentous one, and she was relieved that her trusted companions had accepted it without hesitation.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “We are embarking on a journey that will reshape the fate of House Targaryen and the entire realm of Westeros. Together, as a family, we will navigate this path and reclaim our legacy.”

With her secret finally unveiled, Vaeloria, the Dragon, continued her journey northward, her heart filled with newfound strength and purpose. She was no longer burdened by the weight of deception, and her true identity would guide her as she sought to reunite with Jon Snow and rewrite the story of House Targaryen.

As they made their way through the city, Vaeloria couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. She had grown up here, amidst the splendor of Sunspear, where the shadow of House Martell loomed large. It had been her sanctuary, and her cousins, Tyene and Elia, her closest confidantes. Now, she was leaving it all behind in pursuit of her true identity.

The streets grew quieter as they ventured farther from the palace, and Vaeloria’s thoughts turned to the challenges that lay ahead. She had learned the truth of her lineage, but the world beyond Sunspear was vast and unforgiving. She had to find Jon Snow, her long-lost twin, and seek out Daenerys Targaryen, her aunt, to continue the legacy of House Targaryen.

But she also knew that her journey would be fraught with danger. There were those who would stop at nothing to extinguish the last remnants of House Targaryen, and she had to remain vigilant.

Lara, ever perceptive, spoke softly, breaking the silence. “My lady, are you certain this is the right path?”

Vaeloria nodded, her resolve unwavering. “I must know the truth of my family, of who I am. Sunspear cannot contain me any longer.”

Ser Ian Caerlight’s voice was gruff but filled with loyalty. “We’ll protect you with our lives, my lady. You have our word.”

Vaeloria smiled at her two trusted companions. Their unwavering support meant more to her than words could express. “Thank you, both of you. We’ll face this journey together, as a family.”

As they continued through the night, the world of Westeros stretched out before them, a vast and mysterious realm waiting to be explored. Vaeloria knew that every step would bring her closer to her destiny, and she was determined to embrace it with the same spirit of courage and determination that had defined her life thus far.

The legacy of House Targaryen had awakened within her, and with it came the responsibility to rewrite the story of her family. The road ahead might be perilous, but Vaeloria Targaryen was ready to face it, armed with the truth of her identity and the unwavering support of those who believed in her.

As they walked on beneath the Dornish stars, the world watched, unknowing, as the Dragon embarked on her journey to reclaim her legacy and reshape the fate of Westeros.

Under the watchful gaze of the Dornish stars, Vaeloria and her companions ventured further into the night, the path ahead illuminated only by the pale moonlight. The world of Westeros was vast, and its mysteries awaited discovery. Each step they took was a step closer to the truth, a step deeper into the tapestry of intrigue that enshrouded their family’s legacy.

As they moved through the quiet streets of Sunspear, Vaeloria’s thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. She carried the weight of her true identity, the knowledge that she was not Rhaenys but Vaeloria Targaryen, the lost twin of Jon Snow. The burden of her heritage was both a source of strength and a shadow that clung to her.

Lara, her loyal maid, remained by her side, her presence a soothing balm to Vaeloria’s unease. She had been more than a servant; she had been a friend, a confidante, and a pillar of support through the years. Her unwavering loyalty had been a constant in Vaeloria’s life, and tonight was no different.

Ser Ian Caerlight, the sworn protector, maintained a vigilant watch over their surroundings. His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, scanned the darkened alleys and corners. His every movement spoke of unwavering dedication to his duty, and Vaeloria knew that he would defend her with his life.

Their journey took them through the heart of Sunspear, past the grand bazaars that had once been Vaeloria’s playground. She remembered the laughter of children, the tantalising aroma of spices, and the vibrant tapestries that adorned the stalls. Tonight, those memories seemed distant, overshadowed by the gravity of her quest.

As they reached the outskirts of the city, Vaeloria glanced back at Sunspear one last time. It was a city of secrets and intrigue, a place where the legacy of House Martell had thrived for generations. Now, she was venturing beyond its walls, into a world where the Targaryen name carried both power and peril.

The road stretched before them, a ribbon of moonlit silver leading to an uncertain future. Vaeloria knew that they would encounter challenges and adversaries on their journey, but she was resolute in her determination to uncover the truth of her family and forge her own destiny.

Lara broke the silence once more, her voice gentle. “My lady, do you have any idea where we should begin our search?”

Vaeloria paused, her mind racing with possibilities. “We must head north, towards the Wall,” she replied, her voice filled with conviction. “There, we may find Jon Snow, my twin, and from him, we may learn more about our family’s legacy.”

Ser Ian Caerlight nodded in agreement. “The Wall is a formidable place, my lady. We’ll need to tread carefully, for it is a land of ice and danger.”

Vaeloria acknowledged the warning, knowing that their journey would be perilous. But she also understood that she could not turn back. The truth of her identity and the destiny that awaited her compelled her forward.

With every step they took, the world of Westeros unfolded around them, a tapestry of kingdoms, alliances, and betrayals. Vaeloria carried the legacy of House Targaryen on her shoulders, and as the Dragon, she was determined to rewrite the story of her family.

The night was their cloak, the stars their witnesses, and the road their guide. The legacy of House Targaryen had awakened within her, and she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The journey had just begun, and the fate of Westeros hung in the balance as the Dragon embarked on her quest for truth and redemption.

#game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fic #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones oc #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #game of thrones daenerys #game of thrones au #jon snow smut #jon snow #jon snow x oc #jon snow fanfiction #daenerys fanfiction #daenerys targeryan #queen daenerys #daenerys imagine #daenerys smut #house targaryen #house stark #house martell

[fragileheartbeats]

Can you make an original Valyria house (like Targaryen and Velaryons). A house that had the most beautiful people and rode ice dragons?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐑 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑃𝐸𝑂𝑃𝐿𝐸 𝑂𝐹 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝑉𝐸𝑁 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

─ 𝘐𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𖤐

─ 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴 𖤐

House Celestyr, descended from the ancient and mystical bloodlines of Old Valyria, stood as a beacon of beauty and grace amidst the dragonlords of their age. Their sigil, a majestic ice dragon mid-flight encircled by a ring of stars on a field of iridescent blue, symbolized their affinity for the heavens and the frozen beasts they tamed. Their words, "Beyond the Flame, Our Essence Soars," whispered of their nature, transcending the fiery passions of their kin to embrace the ethereal and the intellectual. The members of House Celestyr were paragons of ethereal beauty and physical perfection, their stature towering and their features fine. Their senses were sharp, able to detect the faintest whisper of a threat or the subtlest of nature's wonders. Resilient to the ravages of time and ailment, they were the embodiment of the Valyrian ideal, their slender forms housing a strength that belied their graceful appearance. Their connection to the ice dragons of the Shivering Sea, creatures as rare and enigmatic as the house itself, granted them a dominion over realms both frostbitten and arcane. The Celestyrs were lovers of the world's innate splendor, drawn to the sea's endless depths and the night sky's diamond brilliance. Their home, the Fortress of Frostfire, was a marvel of architecture, perched upon the edge of the world where the sea kissed the stars. Libraries and gardens adorned its halls, reflecting the house's unquenchable thirst for knowledge and beauty. Yet, the Celestyrs were not untouched by flaw. Their pursuit of perfection could breed a dangerous pride, and their hearts, though resistant to darkness, were not immune to the lures of power and vanity. It was their challenge to navigate the fine line between their noble pursuits and the temptations that came with their gifts. Among them, the most radiant was Valyra Celestyr, a name that echoed her house's affinity with the skies above. Daughter of a Targaryen princess and a Celestyr king, she possessed a beauty that seemed to cast a spell over all who beheld her. Her hair was a cascade of gold-silver strands that shone with the light of the stars her ancestors adored, and her eyes, a shimmering violet, held the depth of the cosmos. Valyra was the epitome of her house's virtues, a lover of nature, art, and the mysteries of the world. Her intellect was as renowned as her beauty, and her presence was as soothing as the sea breeze. But it was not just her mind and looks that drew people to her; Valyra's spirit, kind and unassuming, was a stark contrast to the ambition and intrigue that often surrounded her. The history of House Celestyr is a tapestry woven with threads of light and shadow, its legacy enduring in the legends of a people who soared beyond the reach of fire, to dance with dragons in the frost-kissed heavens. Their tale is a reminder of the beauty and peril that come with extraordinary gifts, and of the eternal dance between the lofty stars and the mortal hearts that aspire to reach them.

Chapter 1

@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

#ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝒟 eαr dıαrч 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀ #house celestyr #my oc #house of dragons #game of thrones #hotd #song of ice and fire #house targaryen #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon i targaryen #hotd fanfic #daemon targeryan #aerys targaryen #viserys targaryen #daenerys targaryen #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd x oc

[axelsagewrites]

Main Masterlist Here

House of the Dragon Masterlist Here

Warnings/Guides

【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇

Request Line Up and Request Rules

♡ Jon Snow ♡

🆇What he's like in bed🆇

Blind date

🆇Milady🆇

🆇Home Alone🆇

🆇Price of My Secrecy 🆇

Relationship Moodboard

🆇Couldn't Resist🆇

♡ Robb Stark ♡

Best Friend

Marriage night

🆇Dream🆇 🆇part two🆇

Frey Girl 🆇part two🆇

🆇I miss you🆇

Cloak

Honey Cakes (cloak part two or standalone)

Comfort

Sweet Girl

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇Good girl🆇

Yearbook

Don't Die For Me

🆇Little Secret🆇

🆇Can't Catch a Break🆇

Goodnight Dear Husband

♡ Sandor Clegane ♡

Most People Say Goodbye Part One - Part Two

🆇Brat🆇

♡ Beric Dondarrian ♡

Home

♡ Thoros of Myr ♡

Favourite Friend

♡ Brienne of Tarth ♡

【P】Queen in the North and South【P】

♡Ned Stark♡

🆇MiLord🆇

🆇Wife🆇

♡Ramsay Bolton♡

🆇My Father Would Kill Me🆇

🆇Catch You🆇

🆇How Far Would You Go🆇

🆇Appreciate You🆇

🆇Bath🆇

🆇Little Mouse🆇

♡Roose Bolton♡

Perhaps

Not Yet

♡Edmure Tully♡

【P】Who We Call Family【P】

My Queen My Love

♡Theon Greyjoy♡

Dream of Sweet Memories

🆇Give it back🆇

♡Sansa Stark♡

Roommates

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇What's This?🆇

Surprise Visit

♡Podrick Payne♡

🆇Praise🆇

♡Daenereys Targaryen♡

🆇My Queen🆇

♡Jamie Lannister♡

🆇Extra Credit🆇

♡Oberyn Martell♡

🆇Duty🆇

♡Margaery Tyrell♡

🆇Ropes🆇

♡Cersei♡

🆇Morning🆇

♡Tormund♡

🆇Real Man🆇

🆇Use your words🆇

♡ Yara Greyjoy ♡

Flirting

Preferences/Multicharacter

🆇Company🆇 - Yara and Ellaria threesome

🆇What they're like in bed🆇 – Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick

How they react to teasing – all

🆇What They're Like in Bed🆇 – Margaery, Sansa, Danny, Yara

Share pt1 🆇Competition pt2🆇 🆇Wait p3🆇 - Robb and Jon

🆇Hook ups🆇 - Theon and Jon

Love Languages - Jon, Robb, Bran, Tormund, Podrick, Oberyn

Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage

Dividers from here and here from @saradika

Post topper made on Canva

#game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #ned stark x reader #robb stark x reader #sansa stark x reader #bran stark x reader #jon snow x reader #sandor clegane x reader #jamie lannister x reader #ramsay bolton x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #podrick payne x reader #got #got x reader #got imagine #game of thrones imagine #masterlist #game of thrones fanfic #robb stark #jon snow #game of thrones smut #robb stark smut #theon greyjoy x reader #yara greyjoy x reader #daenerys targaryen smut

[charliedawn]

"Marry me."

How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.

Sandor Clegane:

"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.

"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.

"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.

"No."

"Ah."

"…"

"…"

"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.

"Sure."

He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."

There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.

Oberyn Martell:

"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:

"No."

He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.

"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."

He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.

"…Really ?"

He chuckled.

"Yes. Really."

He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.

"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"

You sighed before closing your eyes.

"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"

Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"

Tyrion Lannister:

"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.

"What ?"

Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.

"…Why ?"

Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.

"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.

"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"

"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.

"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.

"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.

"Because I am not a good man."

You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.

"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."

Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.

"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"

He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?

Jaime Lannister:

"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.

"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.

So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.

"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"

That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.

"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"

That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.

"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"

"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.

"Then I will give you whatever you want."

In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.

The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.

"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.

Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :

"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.

He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.

"Why ?"

You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?

"Does it matter ?"

He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.

"Depends. What will it bring me ?"

You looked away.

"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."

He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.

"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"

You hesitated before sighing in defeat.

"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."

At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.

"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."

Sansa Stark:

You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.

"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"

Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.

"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.

"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.

She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.

"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."

You smiled and shook your head.

"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."

Sansa smiled back.

Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.

Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)

"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.

"What ?"

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.

When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."

You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.

Daenerys:

"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.

But, marriage ?

Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.

She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.

"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.

"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.

Ser Jorah:

"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.

"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…

"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.

"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…

Ser Jorah accepted.

After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.

#sandor clegane x reader #ser jorah x reader #daenerys x reader #jon snow x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #littlefinger #petyr baelish x reader #sansa stark x reader #oberyn martell x reader #jaime lannister x reader #got characters x reader #fandoms #imagine #got

[reareaotaku]

Yandere! Daenerys Targaryen Headcanons

I've never watched Game of Thrones [GOT] so I'm sorry if this is OOC, but just know I tried my best. [I know a little bit about her from Tiktok Edits]

From the moment she saw you, she was enchanted and had to have you

She'll approach you bold and confident, hoping to catch not only your eye but maybe your hand as well

She doesn't care where you're from, even if you're a White Walker, she will take you and engrave you into the House of Targaryen

^ Her brother will see it as a betrayal, but she's quick to hush him up, saying he knows nothing of love

Loves when you call her Dany/Dannie, it makes her feel warm and special inside

Will braid your hair, telling you it's part of a tradition, whenever you win a tournament and battle, under the guise that it's easier for her to braid it

Would love if you braid her hair after winning a fight

It makes her feel closer to you and you're sharing a special moment

She hums to you while she braids it

Mostly lullabies

She turns you around when she's done braiding and looks at your face. She'll slowly caress your cheek, before putting some baby hairs behind your ear

^ She looks at you like you're the only person in the world

And to her, you are

Will take you riding on her dragons

At first you were scared, but she's quick to console you and tell you it'll be fine

God, she loves when you squeeze her tightly in fear of falling

Every rejection you send her way just makes her more determined

She's protective over you. If anyone dares threaten you, she will kill them. How dare they try and threaten the love of her life? They were asking for death

She would do anything for you, all you have to do is ask. You want a specific food? Well, she'll travel across the world to get it for you

Sometimes she doesn't think about her actions in full and can end up accidentally hurting you

In those moments, she becomes frustrated at herself for hurting you. She becomes angry and will profusely apologize

Speaking of anger, whenever she does become angry, especially when it's because she hurt you, someone always gets hurt. She has to hurt someone else to replace the feeling of guilt and shame from hurting you. She doesn't care who, just anyone besides you. Maybe even someone you dislike?

#daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targeryan #yandere daenerys targaryen #yandere daenerys targaryen x reader #got #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #dragons #mother of dragons

[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

[dannyboy-writes]

Stand and look pretty

You didn’t know where she’d gotten the idea of you not fighting, but it was a hard one to take off of her mind.

“I just want you to be safe, y/n.” She said, for the third time this evening. 

“Haven’t you thought maybe I also want you to be safe. That perhaps I don’t love the idea of you flying thousands of feet off the ground. With barely no safety.” She was about to interrupt, but you were in full rambling mode now. “But I know how important it is to you to go out there. To fight for your people.

“I know you will do everything to come back to me. I just hope you trusted me enough to know that so would I.”

You stormed off without letting her utter a word. You were just too upset and if the conversation dragged on any longer you might say something you don’t mean. 

Over half an hour after leaving Daenerys with her words in her tongue you felt a sudden breeze over you. Warm, nevertheless. 

Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal fell in front of you, encircling you. But not trapping you.

“Come on, Dany, really. A search party?” You scoffed, but quickly noticed Daenerys wasn’t on top of Drogon as usual. They had come alone, to get you.

Rhaegal leaned his head close to you as you patted his nose. Admiring the calm of the beast. 

Oh how could they end it all, should they want to.

You sat with them, caressing them and them offering you warmth. Always warmth.

Daenerys came some time after, attempting to get in between Drogon and Viserion, but they didn’t budge. Rhaegal hurdled closer to you, protectively.

“Come on, guys,” you said, stepping aside from Rhaegal and in front of Drogon. His onix scales shifting as Viserion opened the way for Dany.

“You know I didn’t mean it as a lack of trust, don’t you, y/n.” She said, holding your hand.

“Yes.” You nodded. “But still it bothers me. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, I just -- I needed some time to think.”

“With good company, I see.” She smiled at her children.

“I actually thought you were with them, they took care of me, I suppose.” You said, caressing Rhaegal’s face. 

“I trust you. Y/n,” she said sternly. “I trust you more than anyone. I guess that’s why it’s so hard to see you in danger.”

“I know. But I also need to do things,” you chuckle. “I can’t just stand and look pretty.”

“I think you do that pretty well,” she says, caressing your cheek, leaning in for a kiss.

#daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones fic #dragons

[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

[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

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Legacy of Fire (I)

Chapter One: Awakening

Summery: Rhaenys Targaryen learns of the truth

Warnings: Cursing, death by sword, death by fire, death by hanging, war, humiliation, betrayal, violence, use of the word bastard, incest, angst, fluff, burning, threatening, future smut, P in V, fingering, cunnilingus, scissoring, blowjob, handjob, anal sex, girl x girl, boy x girl, boy x boy, dragons

Word Count: 1,5K

Rhaenys Targaryen knelt beside the small cot where her elderly wet nurse lay, frail and gasping for breath. The chamber was dimly lit, the sunlight struggling to penetrate the heavy curtains that shielded them from the harsh Dornish sun. Rhaenys dipped a cloth in cool water and gently dabbed it against the wet nurse’s fevered forehead.

“Please, you must get better,” Rhaenys implored, her voice trembling with worry. “I cannot bear to lose you, especially now.”

The old woman’s eyes, once bright with life, gazed up at Rhaenys with a mixture of sadness and determination. “My lady,” she rasped, her voice barely audible, “there is something I must confess before I depart from this world.”

Rhaenys leaned closer, her heart heavy with anticipation and dread. “What is it? What troubles you, dear friend?”

The wet nurse’s chest heaved with a labored breath, and she clutched Rhaenys’ hand weakly. “You are not who you think you are.” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You are not Rhaenys Targaryen. You are…”

Rhaenys felt her pulse quicken as she waited for the revelation, her world hanging on the precipice of truth.

The wet nurse continued, her words a fragile thread of disclosure. “You are Jon Snow’s twin. Your true name…is Vaeloria”

Rhaenys’s heart seemed to stop as the weight of those words settled upon her. She couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of the secret her wet nurse had carried, a secret that had been buried in deceit for all her life.

“But why?” Rhaenys choked out, tears filling her violet eyes. “Why was this kept from me?”

The wet nurse’s grip on Rhaenys’ hand tightened, and she summoned the last of her strength to respond. “Your father, Rhaegar Targaryen, believed it was the only way to keep you safe. And your uncle, Eddard Stark, swore an oath to protect you both.”

The sands of Dorne whispered secrets, their shifting grains echoing tales of forgotten bloodlines and concealed destinies. Underneath the scorching sun, the coastal breeze carried the faint scent of salt and the distant promise of adventure. It was here, in this land of fierce beauty, that a young woman known as Rhaenys Targaryen began her journey.

As dawn painted the horizon in hues of pink and gold, Rhaenys stood atop the battlements of Sunspear, the ancient seat of House Martell. Her silver-gold hair cascaded like liquid fire down her back, and her violet eyes glistened with determination. She had awakened to a world forever changed, a world where her true identity as a Targaryen had been unveiled.

The revelation had been both a curse and a blessing. It had set her on a path she could not deny, a path fraught with secrets and treacherous ambitions. She knew that the road ahead would be perilous, but she was resolute in her purpose���to find her twin brother, Jon Snow, and to seek out the last living heir of House Targaryen, Daenerys, whose vision she believed in with unwavering conviction.

In her heart, a burning desire smoldered, a desire to fulfill the promise of fire and blood, and to continue the legacy of the Dragon. Her journey had begun, and it would take her across the Seven Kingdoms, through the treacherous landscapes of power and betrayal.

The world of Westeros awaited her, with its intrigues, rivalries, and hidden dangers. But Rhaenys Targaryen would not falter. She had awakened to her true self, and she was determined to shape her own destiny.

As Rhaenys gazed out over the shimmering waters of the Summer Sea, a sense of both excitement and foreboding coursed through her veins. The sprawling palace of Sunspear, with its sandstone towers and hidden courtyards, had been her home for as long as she could remember. But now, it felt like a gilded cage, its walls closing in on her.

She had learned much from her kind “uncle” Doran Martell, the ruler of Dorne, and her time in Sunspear had been one of safety and tutelage. Yet, the secrets that had been kept from her had become a weight too heavy to bear.

Rhaenys Targaryen stood in the lush gardens of Sunspear, wondering what her beloved uncle Oberyn would have thought of her if he were still alive this day after the revelation, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the salt-tinged breeze from the nearby sea. The sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the palace grounds. She was no longer the young girl known as Rhaenys, but the memory of her childhood with Oberyn Martell remained etched in her heart. Oberyn despised the Lannisters for what they did to his sister, he raised her to hate them as well but would he have hated her more if he knew she was one of the fruits of his sister’s husband’s betrayal? A result of what had caused the rebellion and eventually his sister’s death. The woman he raised her to love and care for even when she did not know thinking she was her true mother.

As she strolled along a cobblestone path, her mind wandered back to a simpler time. She had been a spirited child, her silver-gold hair flowing like a river of fire as she ran through the gardens. Her uncle Oberyn, the Red Viper, had been her playmate, his sharp wit and fierce determination a constant source of fascination.

One particular memory stood out—a day when Oberyn had taken her to the Water Gardens, a sanctuary of cascading fountains and crystal-clear pools. They had laughed together as they splashed in the water, carefree and oblivious to the weight of their names.

“Rhaenys,” Oberyn had called her, unaware of the secret that hid beneath the false name. “You have the spirit of a true Dornish woman. Fearless and untamed.”

She had grinned up at him, the innocence of childhood in her violet eyes. “Like you, Uncle.”

Oberyn had chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Yes, perhaps you take after your old uncle more than you know.”

In that moment, as they had shared their laughter and the warmth of the Dornish sun, the world had felt like a place of endless possibilities. The looming shadows of politics and secrets had been distant, and Rhaenys had reveled in the love and companionship of her family.

Now, as she walked those same paths, her uncle’s words echoed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he would have reacted when he learned the truth of her identity. The thought weighed heavily on her, but she was determined to face the inevitable revelation with the same courage and spirit that had defined her as a child.

The memory of Oberyn, blissfully ignorant of her true heritage, remained a bittersweet reminder of the innocence she had lost. She would carry it with her as she embarked on her journey to reunite with Jon Snow, seek out Daenerys Targaryen, and rewrite her destiny in the ever-complicated world of Westeros.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Rhaenys descended from the battlements, her mind racing with plans and questions. How would she find Jon Snow, a brother she had never known? And what of Daenerys Targaryen, the last living ember of House Targaryen’s once-mighty flame? Could she convince the world that the Dragon must rise again?

Her first step led her to the chambers of her loyal confidante, the servant who had revealed the truth. There, she found the older woman with eyes red from weeping.

“Are you certain about this?” Rhaenys asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

The servant nodded. “I have no doubt, my lady. The blood of House Targaryen flows in your veins.”

Rhaenys’ resolve hardened. “Then it is time. I will begin my journey.”

With a heavy heart, the servant handed her a small, ornate chest. Inside lay a dragon pendant, a symbol of her true lineage. It was a reminder of the legacy she carried, a legacy she intended to honour. The other side of the had pendent a dire wolf was engraved, a dragon and wolf she was, a rare gem she was.

As she fastened the pendant around her neck, Rhaenys knew that the path she had chosen would be fraught with danger. She would be hunted by those who sought to extinguish her family’s name, and she would be tested in ways she could scarcely imagine.

But she was ready. With each step she took, the sands of Dorne whispered secrets of power and destiny, and she would follow their call.

The Dragon had awakened, and its fire would burn brighter than ever before.

As her wet nurse’s breathing grew shallower, Rhaenys felt a torrent of emotions—anger, confusion, and a burning desire for the truth. The revelations that had come to light had set her on an unexpected path, one that would lead her to confront her true identity and reshape her destiny.

As the wet nurse’s eyes closed for the final time, Rhaenys held her close, vowing to honour her memory and fulfil the legacy she had unknowingly carried all her life.

The Dragon had awakened, and with the weight of her true name, Vaeloria, Rhaenys would forge her own path in the world of Westeros.

#game of thrones smut #game of thrones fic #game of thrones au #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #prince oberyn #rhaenys targaryen #vaeloria targaryen #jon snow #daenerys fanfiction #daenerys stormborn #daenya targaryen #daenerys fanfic #daenerys targaryen #daenerys imagine #daenerys targeryan #daenerys x reader #queen daenerys #game of thrones oc #got oc #house targaryen #house stark #house martell

[meraxesmoon]

Had a thought that i wanted to share

Imagine the dragons have been gone for a few days and when they come back they have a little girl with white hair and purple eyes with them.

Later is found out that she is viserys bastard and dany just adopts her on the spot... She is what keeps her sane

(and she would ride rhaegal)

And since the daemons bastard hates him, danys baby girl loves her completly... But she is very scary towards jon bcs thats her mama and he better be carefull before catching these hands.

Dany laughts at it tho

Idk i just love her

*Gordon Ramsay voice* finally some good fookin food

No, but on a serious note, I think Dany would absolutely adore her niece! When Rhaegal and Viserion bring the small girl to her, Daenerys knows that it's meant to be. When she learns that this is Viserys' daughter, though? I feel like she'd cry a little bit once she found out. Despite how utterly horrible her older brother had become before he died, she loved him dearly. Daenerys feels as if she's regained a piece of herself that she lost.

I do think that Dany would be a little delusional with her little niece, especially since Viserys is dead. She genuinely begins to believe that (Name) is her biological daughter and would punish whoever dared to say otherwise. You can't even convince her that she isn't Dany's daughter, and the little girl is raised to believe that Daenerys birthed her and fed her at her breast.

Once Daenerys figures out that her baby and Rhaegal have bonded? She'd be so happy! I think Dany would be highly paranoid of something horrible happening to her daughter, so once (Name) has a dragon to protect her, Daenerys' worries die down a bit. Rhaegal is known to be very vicious towards others, so Dany knows her baby is being well protected when she's not around.

As for Jon, I can definitely see (Name) holding him at sword-point and threatening him to make sure he'd never betray her mama.

Rhaegal and (Name) are such an iconic duo, too 🫶🫶🫶

i fucking love rhaegal

#cw: yandere content #cw: yandere blog #cw: yandere #yandere daenerys targaryen #yandere got #yandere game of thrones #yandere blog #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere content #yandere #kay writes #mangled parasite

[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

Kinktober List Here

“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

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