Hotd - Blog Posts

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱

𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: labor, Neice reader, angst, death.

The castle of Dragonstone was bustling with excitement as Lady Y/N, wife of Daemon Targaryen, was about to give birth to their first child. The halls were decorated with banners of House Targaryen and the sound of cheers echoed through the corridors. But within all the joy and celebrations, there was one person who was not happy - Y/N's mother, Princess Rhaenyra.

As Y/N's labor pains became more frequent and intense, she longed for the comfort and support of her husband. However, her mother made sure that Daemon was nowhere to be found. Rhaenyra had always been against their union, finding Y/N unworthy of her uncle's love and a hindrance to their family's legacy. She saw this as an opportunity to separate the two once and for all.

Y/N's maids and servants, well aware of their Princss's schemes, were hesitant to go against her orders. But they couldn't bear to see their lady suffering in pain without her husband by her side. So, they secretly sent a message to Daemon, informing him about Y/N's condition and pleading him to come to her aid.

Despite Rhaenyra's efforts, Daemon found his way to Y/N's chambers. The moment he saw his wife's pale and sweat-drenched face, he knew something was wrong. He held her hand tightly and whispered words of comfort, promising to never leave her side.

Y/N's labor was long and difficult, but finally, the cries of a newborn filled the room. As they held their child, a beautiful baby boy, Y/N and Daemon's eyes filled with tears of joy and love. But their smiles were short-lived as they noticed Y/N's weak and pale state.

Panicked, Daemon called for the maester, but it was too late. Y/N had lost a lot of blood and her body couldn't take it anymore. In the arms of her beloved husband, Y/N took her last breath, leaving behind her devastated husband and their newborn son.

Daemon's grief was immeasurable as he held onto his wife's lifeless body, blaming himself for not being there when she needed him the most. And in that moment, he swore to never forgive his Niece for her selfish actions that cost him his beloved wife.

The news of Y/N's death spread throughout the castle, casting a dark shadow over the once joyful celebrations. Rhaenyra, whose jealousy and spite had caused this tragedy, was consumed by guilt and shame. She begged for Daemon's forgiveness, but he could not bring himself to forgive her for taking away the love of his life.

As the days went by, Daemon named his son after his late wife, a constant reminder of the love and sacrifice she had made. And though he would always miss Y/N, he found solace in their son, knowing that a part of her would always live on in him. As for Rhaenyra, she spent the rest of her days haunted by the memory of her daughter's death, a punishment she had brought upon herself.

𝔈𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: Jealous Rhaenyra, Daemon x niece reader, Incest, reader's pregnant with Daemon's baby.

The sun was setting over the Red Keep, casting a warm glow on the city of King's Landing. Inside the castle, the royal family was gathering for dinner. Daemon, the handsome and charismatic prince, sat at the head of the table, his wife and niece, Y/N, by his side. They had been married for just over a year, and Y/N was now pregnant with their first child.

As the feast began, Rhaenyra Y/N's mother, entered the room. She was known for her beauty and her fierce love for her family. But tonight, there was a darkness in her eyes that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. Rhaenyra took her seat at the opposite end of the table, her gaze never leaving Y/N.

As the evening went on, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. Rhaenyra's behavior was becoming more and more erratic, and she seemed to be glaring at Y/N with hatred and jealousy. Y/N knew that Rhaenyra had always been fiercely protective of her husband, but she never expected her own mother to turn against her.

When the feast ended, Y/N excused herself and made her way to her chambers. She could feel Rhaenyra's eyes following her, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. As she entered her room, she found Rhaenyra waiting for her, a wicked smile on her lips.

'Mother, what is the matter?' Y/N asked, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

Rhaenyra's smile widened. 'You, my dear. You are the matter. How dare you steal my uncle's love and bear his child? You are nothing but a pawn in his game.'

Y/N was taken aback by Rhaenyra's words. She had always known that her marriage to Daemon was unconventional, but she never imagined her own mother would see her as a threat. But before she could respond, Rhaenyra's hand shot out and grabbed Y/N's wrist tightly.

'You will not bear his child. I will not let you,' Rhaenyra hissed, her grip tightening.

Y/N's eyes widened in horror as she realized what Rhaenyra was planning. She was going to harm Y/N and her unborn child. Without thinking, Y/N pushed Rhaenyra away and ran to her chambers, locking the door behind her. She could hear Rhaenyra banging on the door, demanding to be let in.

Y/N's heart was racing as she looked around her room, trying to come up with a plan. She knew she couldn't stay in her chambers, but she also couldn't leave the safety of the castle. Suddenly, she remembered the secret passage that led to Daemon's chambers.

With trembling hands, Y/N opened the hidden door and made her way through the dark tunnels. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel the baby kicking inside her. She prayed that Daemon would be in his chambers and that he would protect her and their child.

As Y/N entered Daemon's chambers, she was greeted by the sight of her husband, sitting by the fireplace, lost in thought. She ran to him and collapsed into his arms, tears streaming down her face.

'Y/N, what is the matter?' Daemon asked, concern etched on his face as he held her tight.

'It's mother. She...she wants to harm our child,' Y/N sobbed, her body shaking with fear.

Daemon's face hardened as he pulled away from Y/N and looked into her eyes. 'I will not let anyone harm you or our child. I swear it on my life,' he said, determination in his voice.

Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of love for her husband. She knew that he would protect them no matter what. But she also knew that they couldn't stay in the castle any longer. Rhaenyra would not stop until she got what she wanted.

Together, Y/N and Daemon made their escape from the Red Keep, leaving behind the treacherous world of the Targaryen's. They found a new home in Dragonstone, far away from the chaos and danger of King's Landing. And there, surrounded by love and safety, Y/N gave birth to a healthy baby boy, their firstborn. He was named Maegor, after Maegor the first.

As they looked at their child, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for Daemon's love and protection. And as for Rhaenyra, she was never seen or heard from again. But Y/N knew that her mother's love for Daemon would always burn bright, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the woman who had lost everything to her own jealousy.

Breed you

Warning: sex, unprotected sex, smut, breeding.

Masterlist

As the sun set behind the walls of King's Landing, you found yourself in the throne room of the Red Keep. Your lover, Daemon, stood before you, his silver hair shimmering in the dim candlelight. He was a man unlike any other- fierce, bold, and unafraid to take what he wanted.

You could feel his eyes roaming over your body, hunger in his gaze. He had summoned you here for a reason, and you knew it would be nothing short of wild and passionate.

'Māzigon issa jorrāelagon,' he purred, his hand extended towards you

Without hesitation, you walked towards him, your heart racing in anticipation. As you drew closer, you could see the intensity in his eyes, his desire for you burning like fire. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you against him, his lips crashing down onto yours in a heated kiss. You could feel his hands roaming over your body, igniting a fire within you.

Without breaking the kiss, Daemon lifted you up and placed you on the Iron Throne. It was cold and hard beneath you, but with his warm body pressed against yours, you didn't care. He began to undress you, his hands moving expertly over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned against his lips as he traced a line down your neck, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone.

'Issa dārys,' you breathed, pulling him closer to you.

He pulled back to look into your eyes, his own smoldering with desire. 'Nyke jaelagon naejot breed ao, nyke jaelagon ao naejot carry issa riñar isse aōha fertile womb.' he whispered huskily.

Your eyes widened at his words, the thought of carrying his child filling you with a mix of excitement and fear. But with Daemon, you knew you were safe. You nodded, giving him your consent.

With a smirk, he lifted you up and positioned you on his lap, his hard length pressing against you. He buried himself deep inside you, causing you to gasp and cling onto him for dear life. 'Gods, ao feel sīr sȳz sīr ȳrda syt issa issa dāria ' he groaned, his thrusts becoming faster and more urgent.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, lost in a world of pleasure and bliss. As Daemon's pace quickened, you felt your body building towards a powerful climax. With a loud cry, you reached your peak, your whole body trembling with pleasure.

But Daemon wasn't finished yet. He continued to move within you, his intensity never wavering. 'Nyke going naejot breed ao ēva aōha grevenka rūsīr issa riñar isse aōha womb.' he growled, his voice filled with possessiveness.

The thought of carrying his child ignited a new fire within you, and you eagerly welcomed him deeper inside you. You could feel him nearing his own release, and with one final thrust, he cried out your name, filling you with his seed.

As you both caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You gazed into each other's eyes, knowing that in that brief moment, you had created something magical.

'Avy jorrāelan,' Daemon whispered, his hand stroking your cheek lovingly.

'Se nyke ao,' you replied, feeling more connected to him than ever before.

As you both sat on the Iron Throne, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that you were meant to be together. And as you felt his love and warmth surround you, you couldn't wait to see what the future held for you both.

Translation

Māzigon issa jorrāelagon- come my love

Issa dārys- my king

Nyke jaelagon naejot breed ao, nyke jaelagon ao naejot carry issa riñar isse aōha fertile womb- I want to breed you, I want you to carry my children in your fertile womb

Gods, ao feel sīr sȳz sīr ȳrda syt issa issa dāria- Gods, you feel so good so tight for me my queen

Avy jorrāelan- I love you

Se nyke ao- and I you

With Fire And With Blood.

Warning: violence, killing, blood, gore, Daemon being possessive.

Masterlist

Y/N stood frozen in fear as she watched her husband, Daemon Targaryen, approach her. He was covered in blood, his blond hair matted and his face splattered with the crimson liquid. His eyes were wild and filled with madness as he reached out to touch her face with his bloody hands.

“Lo nyke emagon naejot ossēnagon lī qilōni hog aōha undying jorrāelagon se attention syt issa pār sīr sagon ziry issa dāria,” he spoke in High Valyrian, his voice deep and almost inhuman.

Y/N didn't understand the words he spoke, but she could sense the intensity and desperation in his tone. She was afraid, not just for herself but for their unborn child as well. She had never seen her husband like this before, and it scared her.

She tried to back away, but he grabbed her gently, his touch surprisingly gentle despite being covered in blood. His dark eyes locked with hers, and she could see a glimmer of love and obsession in them.

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to make sense of the situation. Daemon had always been possessive and protective of her, but this level of violence was something she never expected from him.

Looking down at her swollen stomach, she knew that she couldn't let anything happen to their baby. She wrapped her trembling hands around her belly and whispered words of protection, hoping that her husband would come back to his senses.

But instead, he leaned in closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke again.

“I will do anything to keep your attention and love. I have killed thousands for you, and I am not afraid to kill more. You are mine, and no one else's. You belong to me,” he said, his voice low and almost begging.

Y/N could feel his hot breath against her skin, and her mind was racing with fear and confusion. She never thought that her husband could be capable of such violence and obsession.

But deep down, she knew that his love for her was genuine, even if it came with a darker side. She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of gratitude for his protectiveness and possessiveness, even if it had led to bloodshed.

“Daemon, please,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. “I love you too, but this is not the way. Killing for my attention and love will only push me away.”

Daemon's grip on her tightened, and for a moment, Y/N was afraid that he might harm her. But instead, he leaned in and pressed his bloody forehead against hers, his eyes closing.

“I will do better,” he whispered. “I will show you that my love for you is greater than my need for your attention. Just please, don't leave me.”

Y/N could see the genuine sincerity in his eyes, and she felt her heart soften. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she was willing to work things out with her husband.

As he pulled away, she saw the remorse and regret in his eyes as he looked at his blood-stained hands. He knew that he had crossed a line, and he was willing to make it right.

Y/N reached out and took his hand, pulling him towards her and leading him towards their bedroom. As they stepped inside, she could see the destruction and chaos that her husband had caused in his desperate attempt to win her love.

Instead of being angry, she felt a deep sense of sadness and fear. She knew that she needed to help him overcome his need for violence and obsession in the name of love.

As she lay down on their bed, Daemon joined her, his eyes never leaving hers. They lay there in silence, his hand gently resting on her stomach. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt at peace, knowing that her husband truly loved her and was willing to make amends for his mistakes.

In the days and weeks that followed, Y/N worked tirelessly to help Daemon overcome his dark desires. She showed him love and affection, and slowly but surely, he began to let go of his need for violence and bloodshed.

Their love grew stronger, and as their child was born, Daemon promised to be a better husband and father. With Y/N's love and support, he was able to become the man that she had always believed he could be.

From then on, their love was stronger than ever before, and Y/N knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would always overcome them together.

Translation

Lo nyke emagon naejot ossēnagon lī qilōni hog aōha undying jorrāelagon se attention syt issa pār sīr sagon ziry issa dāria - If I have to kill those who hog your undying love and attention from me then so be it my queen.

𝔎𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔰 𝔐𝔦𝔨𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔐𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔰

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩!

𝔄 𝔉𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥

𝔈𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰

ℜ𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢

𝔈𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡

𝔄 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔉𝔲𝔫 ℑ𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝙰 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊

𝙰 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢

𝙰 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

𝔊𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔉𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔒𝔣 𝔞 𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔄 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶

𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔙𝔬𝔴𝔰

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢

𝔄𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡

𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔈𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱

𝑲𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒎 𝑨𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒊𝒎 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑴𝒄'𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

Masterlist Part 2

Ty! I'm surprised not many people have liked this- do ya'll not watch game of thrones? Regardless it's got some spicy wlw you should check out. I'll post Abby next tho most likely

A Dragonriders handmaiden 

(A Rhaenrya x Mysaria story)

@cattjull @mitski-lovesems

Warnings: C#nnilingus, N!pple play, restraints, candle/wax play, sc!ssoring, choking, fingering, Edging (M to R)

A/N: One thing I always laugh about is Mysarias reaction to Rhaenyra claiming vermithor. Whether that was just the actress completely in awe of Emma (which would be completely understandable) or it was intentional I’m not sure, but regardless I can imagine Mysaria and Rhaenyra genuinely being into dragon role-play. 

“Oh you want me to claim you, hm?”

“Yes Rhaenyra claim me.”

“Lykiri.”

“Fuck…” 

PFFT. Anyway enjoy the story.

The politics of the realm have always been a complex affair. While it is true that wars have been settled for less, it was simply disheartening for both nobles and common folk alike. Watching a family, those who are considered by many to be gods, fight over power and title. 

Not only did brother fighting brother leave a distaste in the mouths of those who were forced to account for it, but it causes chaos, anguish, death, and it has been causing devastation since the crowning of Aegon. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen was but one piece on a board far bigger than her, perhaps larger than her entire bloodline. Born an innocent, with her fathers smile and logic, as well as his desire to solve issues with peace, rather than with the fire that danced in her veins. 

Mysaria, “white worm,” had always been a character in Rhaenyras youth. She had heard of her skill in various fields. A consort, a mistress of whisperers. She had also heard at length from various sources the extent of her beauty. It certainly enthused her uncle. 

It was strange that 15 years later she would be practically kneeling at Rhaenyras mercy. This wasn’t to say she begged, however. No. Mysaria always believed her life to be valuable, even when men, no matter how old, stupid or ugly, would tell her otherwise. 

 A knock, one night, at Rhaenyras chambers. The hour is quite late and there is but a single guard posted at her door. 

“The white worm, your grace.” The guard informs her, and Rhaenyra gets out of bed with such exertion she is worried she has strained something. A hand goes over her silver hair, putting any loose strands into the correct place in her extravagantly braided hair. She isn’t sure why she is fixing her appearance, or even now why she is so conscious of it. 

“Your grace…”

“What? Oh yes, bring her in.” Rhaenyra says, her fingers still caressing her hair. Perhaps as a nerves thing. 

“I apologise for the disturbance, your grace. I understand the hour is late, I would not have come if I thought it could wait.” Mysaria explains. She nods simply, her eyes tracing every inch of the white worm, as if looking for something. A reason for Rhaenrya not to trust her, perhaps, as there had already been so many people she couldn’t trust in her life.

“It is alright, Lady Mysaria. What is your news?”

Mysaria nods, her expression serious as she begins. “It has come to my ears that Prince Daemon has been sending his men on missions of great brutality. The tales of their actions grow more gruesome with each retelling, and his men...” She pauses, frowning slightly before continuing. “His men are starting to question their loyalty to a liege who makes them commit such horrors. It would not be surprising if some of them deserted.” Rhaenyra groans, her patience growing weary. 

“So in fact he does not which to usurp me at all? No. My husband would rather create more enemies in my name and cower back to me like a babe cowers from their punishment. What else have you heard?”

Mysaria hesitates, her gaze flickering to the others gentle blue. “There are whispers, your grace, that the Lannister army may be preparing for battle.” Mysaria announces, the warmth of the candlelight feeling all the more hot. 

"You think their movements are advancing already? A result of criston coles stupidity, no doubt, and now at the hands of prince Aemond."

“I wanted to tell you as soon as I heard. Daemon often acts quickly and without a second thought. Telling you now may give you time to consider a strategy to pursue before he conducts a new idea that will no doubt rally more enemies against us.” 

A peculiar smile pulls at the queens lips at this. The smile was gentle, genuine. It offered a sense of childlike peace that brought Mysaria back to when they were younger. Simpler, potentially, though not necessarily better. 

“Us?” Rhaenyra asks through a soft chuckle. “You got comfortable fast.”

“True that it wasn’t long since I was thrust into the darkness. An echo of a great spy. But when new pathways alight, I am not one to wait for the opportunity to run away with the candle.” She bobs her head in agreement subconsciously appreciating her mannerisms.

“You could have gone anywhere.” Rhaenyra reminds her, stepping closer and touching her hand. She wasn’t even sure she had made a decision to touch her. All she knew was she had stepped out and suddenly her hand was caressing Mysaria’s. Her skin was so soft and the contact was electrifying. Logically, of course, Rhaenyras own hand was warm from being under the covers of her bed, but to Mysaria it only confirmed Rhaenyras birth right, a true born dragon. 

“You know, I could have had your head for that?” Rhaenyra says with a grin. Mysaria’s eyes widened with confusion before she elaborates. 

“For waking me up to hear MORE disappointing stories about Daemon. He is all I hear about these days, from everyone who wants to undermine me. I hear his name more than I speak it myself as he is never. fucking. here.” Mysaria smiles weakly. 

“Daemon is a…troubled mind. A character to be certain but, well.”

“His issue is he goes around taking what he wants while genuinely believing there will be no consequences. People like that shouldn’t have a dragon.” The caressing spreads to up Mysarias arm, making her gasp in enthusiastic surprise. 

“He was everything I wanted when I was a child. Everything I wanted to be. Perhaps both.” Rhaenyra explained, and Mysaria watches intently, like there is no sound she would rather hear, even late at night on the edge of war. 

“I was everything he wanted too. The rightful heir, young enough to…mould into whatever he wanted.”

“I do not like that he took advantage of you, but, I certainly see why he was so captivated.” The soft movement across Mysarias skin stops and she takes a cautious step back. It’s so small it’s barely noticeable.

“What?”

“I remember your father. Kind, peaceful, humorous, I see him when I look at you. But without that, you are strong, intelligent, beautiful. You are a great mother and a great queen. One who appreciates the subtleties of war. A level headed ruler the realm deserve-“

Mysarias gasp of surprise is silenced by Rhaenyras tongue as it enters her mouth. She presses her warm hands on both of Mysarias cheeks, moaning and deepening the kiss, feeling a passion unmatched to anything she had ever felt before. Those words were like honey. They affirmed her in ways she wasn’t sure she had ever felt. Always so worried about her claim, her children’s claim, the whole being-a-woman thing. Never did she have someone loyal and beautiful who would actually speak to her without hidden agendas or to disagree. No, these words were gratifying and intrigued every part of Rhaenyra.

Mysarias pretty light grey gown was the first to drop to the ground, revealing beautiful skin and curves that had been so criminally concealed. Rhaenyra smiles as her eyes familiarise herself with her body. Her perfect breasts are a refreshing sight for someone who practically had only seen the pair she, herself, possessed. The cool air hardened her exposed nipples, and at this point her head is spinning. Even so, Rhaenyra managed to pull her attention to the rest of Mysaria. Her perfect cunt Rhaenyra started to imagine she was tasting was becoming more inviting by the second. Her stomach too was an image of perfection, much like something she would see sculpted in the galleries back at kings landing. 

“I’ve never…” Rhaenyra began, surprised by the sound of her voice in the deathly quiet room. It was rare for her to depict such vulnerability in these scenes. With most men she had been with, she was the one in charge. Always towering over them, taking what she wanted, using them to feel good, to feel as powerful as she was deep down. Even during her first time she was the one who instigated, never like this. Mysaria gives her a reassuring smile.

“If it is any constellation, your grace, I have never had royal pussy, either.” Rhaenyra laughs at her rather vulgar statement, feeling less tense than before. 

“I want to taste you…” Rhaenyra says, clearing her throat and installing a shroud of false confidence to her words. “May I?” Mysaria nods, sitting at the edge of Rhaenyras bed and spreading her legs. Rhaenyra follows suit, kneeling in front of her. When Mysaria is in view fully now, she notices a scar through her folds which causes her to look up for reassurance. 

“Will it hurt?” She questions. Mysaria shakes her head. 

“My father gave that to me when I was very young.”

“Oh.” She mutters, caressing Mysarias thigh. “That’s awful. I’d understand if you don’t want me to-“

“No. I want you to. Giving me pleasure in the same place he cut seems a rather satisfactory form of revenge would you agree?” Rhaenyra smiles at this.

“I would.” She hums into her inner thighs, kissing and sucking at the skin there. 

An excited gasp leaves her mouth and Rhaenyra notices the way Mysarias excitement drips.

“Need to…” Rhaenyra lets out, tone desperate. Mysaria nods. “Go for I- mmm.” Rhaenyra licks quickly over her clit and the higher sections of her cunt. The pace is eager and unrelenting, causing Mysaria more pleasure than she had anticipated from someone new to all this. Mysaria wraps her hands over her head, fingers weaving into the silver braid she so adored. Now Rhaenyra goes lower, in between her folds and all the way down to her pretty hole, tongue exploring the entrance and pulling a cacophony of noises from Mysaria all at once. 

She tugs on the braid a little and uses strands that had fallen down onto her face to guide her to where she wanted, bringing her closer by the second. 

“fuckfuck…so…ahh-“ Rhaenyra goes even faster, if possible, moving her head now in rhythm. 

Mysaria tugs her hair tight as she cums. Her orgasm rippling through her in waves. Rhaenyra licks every delicious drop, moaning in satisfaction at her new found favourite hobby. She almost felt angry at herself for not experimenting with girls in her youth. Especially when she could have been doing this the whole time. 

She stands up, smiling nervously at Mysaria. 

“Was…that…um…” Her chin is glistening, like that wasn’t answer enough, but Mysaria new words of affirmation was needed right now. Maybe always.

“You did amazing, my queen.” She speaks breathily. Rhaenyra grabs her hips, pulling her in. Then she starts licking and sucking over her chest, making Mysaria gasp again. When she pulls away, Mysaria sucks on Rhaenyras neck, hard, untying the string of her nightdress as she did so.

“This alright?” Mysaria asks. Rhaenyra nods, letting out a hushed “yes.”

Rhaenyra is a sight just as breathtaking. Her smooth, beautiful Targaryen features making Mysaria flush. Perhaps she had chose the wrong Targaryen all those years back. Not that it was much of a choice. 

“You must have a lot to teach me…” Rhaenyra says, feeling exposed in the cool air. Mysaria chuckles softly. 

“Go to the bed and lie down. We will test the waters. See what you like.” Rhaenyra nods. Her imagination could think up many things to be certain, but at the same time she had no idea what she was in for. 

Mysaria gets on top of her, legs on either side of Rhaenyras waist. Her body travels from her collarbone to lower stomach, then to her sensitive cunt. Mysaria raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re so smooth down there.” She remarks. Rhaenyra laughs. 

“The hair that grows there is very fine but I still like to remove it when I have the chance. You like?” Mysaria puts her middle digit onto Rhaenyras tight bundle of nerves, drawing a satisfied “mmm” from her lips. 

“I like.” Mysaria agrees. Her two middle fingers continue, going a little slow just to offer the chance to revel in every sensation. Then, Mysaria curls her fingers inside her loosening walls, hitting every inch so good her eyes were rolling back. 

“Y…you’re good at that.” Rhaenyra breathes out. Mysaria gives a grateful smile. 

“I have been wondering something my queen.” Mysaria says, going a little faster. Rhaenyras eyes flutter.

“P..please… if we are acquainted enough for you to…put your fingers in me…you can at least use my name. Mmm…”

“I have been wondering, Rhaenyra, if it’s true about Targaryen’s being immune to fire.” Rhaenyra lets out a half laugh, half moan.

“That is meant to be legend. Though I hear some Targaryen’s truly can withstand… ohgods..ahem…um…fire.”

“And you?” She asks, removing her fingers and grabbing the flickering candle by her bedside table. 

“Can you be burnt?”

Rhaenyra nods slowly, her eyes dancing with the flame. 

“Some women like mixing a little pain and pleasure.” Mysaria explains, moving the candle in circular motions in the air. “Do you?” Rhaenyras gaze is deadly and intoxicating as she ponders her words.

“Perhaps…we can see.” She says, and Mysarias eyes sparkle in response, well, that and the candlelight reflecting so brilliantly in Mysarias deep coloured eyes.

“We should have a word to say if you want me to stop.”

“A word? What’s wrong with…’stop’” Rhaenyra questions genuinely. This brings another smile to Mysaria. 

“Often when pleasure or pain is overwhelming us in the best way possible, we say stop stop. Even if theres nothing we would want less than to stop. A word like…tart, is an effortless distinction to put a foot on the wheel.” Rhaenyra nods. 

“Tart…I like it.” Mysaria switches the candle to her left hand, putting her fingers back into Rhaenyra with her right. Cautiously, Mysaria pours the wax onto her body, making Rhaenyra shudder in pain. The combined sensation of her nearing orgasm caused her to cry out.

“Do…you need to say tart, Nyra?”

“N..no…Fuck it feels…I’ve never felt…” Mysaria nods in silent understanding, continuing to pump in and out of her. 

The wax solidifies on her skin and Mysaria puts the candle down, rubbing her fingers over it, already sensitive from the burning. 

“So…so good.” Rhaenyra hums, eyes shutting tight.

“I know…let it out I know you can.” Rhaenyra obeys, orgasming intensely and grabbing onto her tightly. 

“What else?” Rhaenyra asks when she finally catches her breath. 

“Need more.”

Mysaria is both surprised and impressed. She starts pulling off the thin bedsheet that was previously perfectly sat on Rhaenyras bed. She gives her a confused look.

“What are you doing with that?” 

“This,” Mysaria starts to say as she pulls at the sheet. “Can be used for restraints. Put your arms up.”

Rhaenyra does so and Mysaria ties it. 

“Have you ever experienced such intense sensations you wanted to scream and writhe around in your pretty bed, but you couldn’t move your arms at all? Couldn’t…defend yourself, almost.” Rhaenrya shakes her head, the idea already exciting her in a way she doubted was healthy. 

“Remember the wor-“

“Tart. I know.” Rhaernya says impatiently. Mysaria grins at the queens eagerness and spreads her legs before climbing over them and positioning her own, wet cunt above Rhaenyras. Slowly, she rotates her hips, making Rhaenyra immediately moan in surprise. She watches Mysarias movements and wants so badly to level herself with each hand and move with her, but they remain very much bound.

“Ahhh…fuck…” Rhaeyra moans again as Mysaria goes even faster, grinding right over her clit over and over again. The sound of them sliding together, slick coating warm skin, it was a melody that would sell for millions. 

The familiar, scream worthy feeling in her stomach swirled and her head revelled as Rhaernyra grew closer to orgasm, eyes rolling back, curses and moans falling out of her lips constantly. That was when Mysaria got off her, standing up in front of where she lay on the bed. Rhaenyra groans in frustration.

“Why did you stop?” She asks bitterly. Mysaria says nothing, ensuring she makes direct eye contract as her fingers plunge into herself. Rhaenyra gasps at this.

“Wh- in front of me?”

“You must have been close, huh?” Mysaria taunts. Rhaenyras eyes darken.

“Mysaria. Get back here.”

“Beg.” Mysaria says. Her words are dangerous. Status wise Rhaenyra has almost infinitely more power than Mysaria, and with men that power always translated. Never would she beg for anything. Never…

“Please.” Mysaria smile is wider than the narrow sea before she returns to her position on Rhaenyra, rocking her hips back and forth.

“Ah~ seven hells that- fuck you, don’t stop..” A mischievous look paints Mysarias eye as she obeys Rhaenyra. She wasn’t going to stop. Not even if she was begging for it. When Rhaenyra cums harshly, her hands still restrained. She expects the unrelenting pace to let up, her cunt already so sensitive. 

Mysaria stands up, curling her fingers inside Rhaenyra again. 

“Gods- Mysaria what are y- ohfuckstopstop mmm”

“You know the word.” Mysaria reminds her. And she does. Tart. A word as bittersweet as the ones she used to pick the lemons off of as a child. It was a lot, in truth. She had cum all over her fingers, she had her pussy soaked against Mysarias and now her fingers were inside her again. She was covered in sweat, wax and slick, whether it was hers or Mysarias she didn’t know. It would be a perfect point to stop. To clean herself and lie in Mysarias arms. But as her fingers pumped in and out, making her scream in pleasure and pain, she simply couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“I kn…know.” Mysaria hums in satisfaction, continuing her thrusting harder now. When Mysaria finally lets up after her third orgasm, she unties Rhaenyra and kisses her deeply, tongue caressing the inner walls of her cheek. Rhaenyras hair is a mess. The braid, whatever remained of it, was over half out, with strands sticking to her face in different places.

“That was…yes.” Rhaenyra says a little awkwardly. Mysaria nods.

“Does this mean I can say I have ridden a dragon?” Rhaenyra laughs at the statement. 

“Daemon is a targraryean too. Thought you were already a dragon rider.”

“That was a long time ago. I’d rather be with you any day than the father of a school of bastards who runs for the hills and makes bad choices.” Rhaenyra sighs at this. She is right, of course, but her words sting to hear.

“My sons…they” Rhaenyra started to say. Mysaria smiled brightly. 

“I know. They are perfect.” She says, exchanging a knowing look that lasts long enough for the silence to spread.

“At least you needn’t worry about mothering my children, Rhaenyra. We don’t exactly have the requirements for it.”

The unexpectedness of the sentence causes them both to laugh and Rhaenyra pulls her in to a hug.

“Thank you for your support.” Rhaenyra mumbles. Mysaria nods.

“Of course your grace.”

A Dragonriders handmaiden 

(A Rhaenrya x Mysaria story)

@cattjull @mitski-lovesems

Warnings: C#nnilingus, N!pple play, restraints, candle/wax play, sc!ssoring, choking, fingering, Edging (M to R)

A/N: One thing I always laugh about is Mysarias reaction to Rhaenyra claiming vermithor. Whether that was just the actress completely in awe of Emma (which would be completely understandable) or it was intentional I’m not sure, but regardless I can imagine Mysaria and Rhaenyra genuinely being into dragon role-play. 

“Oh you want me to claim you, hm?”

“Yes Rhaenyra claim me.”

“Lykiri.”

“Fuck…” 

PFFT. Anyway enjoy the story.

The politics of the realm have always been a complex affair. While it is true that wars have been settled for less, it was simply disheartening for both nobles and common folk alike. Watching a family, those who are considered by many to be gods, fight over power and title. 

Not only did brother fighting brother leave a distaste in the mouths of those who were forced to account for it, but it causes chaos, anguish, death, and it has been causing devastation since the crowning of Aegon. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen was but one piece on a board far bigger than her, perhaps larger than her entire bloodline. Born an innocent, with her fathers smile and logic, as well as his desire to solve issues with peace, rather than with the fire that danced in her veins. 

Mysaria, “white worm,” had always been a character in Rhaenyras youth. She had heard of her skill in various fields. A consort, a mistress of whisperers. She had also heard at length from various sources the extent of her beauty. It certainly enthused her uncle. 

It was strange that 15 years later she would be practically kneeling at Rhaenyras mercy. This wasn’t to say she begged, however. No. Mysaria always believed her life to be valuable, even when men, no matter how old, stupid or ugly, would tell her otherwise. 

 A knock, one night, at Rhaenyras chambers. The hour is quite late and there is but a single guard posted at her door. 

“The white worm, your grace.” The guard informs her, and Rhaenyra gets out of bed with such exertion she is worried she has strained something. A hand goes over her silver hair, putting any loose strands into the correct place in her extravagantly braided hair. She isn’t sure why she is fixing her appearance, or even now why she is so conscious of it. 

“Your grace…”

“What? Oh yes, bring her in.” Rhaenyra says, her fingers still caressing her hair. Perhaps as a nerves thing. 

“I apologise for the disturbance, your grace. I understand the hour is late, I would not have come if I thought it could wait.” Mysaria explains. She nods simply, her eyes tracing every inch of the white worm, as if looking for something. A reason for Rhaenrya not to trust her, perhaps, as there had already been so many people she couldn’t trust in her life.

“It is alright, Lady Mysaria. What is your news?”

Mysaria nods, her expression serious as she begins. “It has come to my ears that Prince Daemon has been sending his men on missions of great brutality. The tales of their actions grow more gruesome with each retelling, and his men...” She pauses, frowning slightly before continuing. “His men are starting to question their loyalty to a liege who makes them commit such horrors. It would not be surprising if some of them deserted.” Rhaenyra groans, her patience growing weary. 

“So in fact he does not which to usurp me at all? No. My husband would rather create more enemies in my name and cower back to me like a babe cowers from their punishment. What else have you heard?”

Mysaria hesitates, her gaze flickering to the others gentle blue. “There are whispers, your grace, that the Lannister army may be preparing for battle.” Mysaria announces, the warmth of the candlelight feeling all the more hot. 

"You think their movements are advancing already? A result of criston coles stupidity, no doubt, and now at the hands of prince Aemond."

“I wanted to tell you as soon as I heard. Daemon often acts quickly and without a second thought. Telling you now may give you time to consider a strategy to pursue before he conducts a new idea that will no doubt rally more enemies against us.” 

A peculiar smile pulls at the queens lips at this. The smile was gentle, genuine. It offered a sense of childlike peace that brought Mysaria back to when they were younger. Simpler, potentially, though not necessarily better. 

“Us?” Rhaenyra asks through a soft chuckle. “You got comfortable fast.”

“True that it wasn’t long since I was thrust into the darkness. An echo of a great spy. But when new pathways alight, I am not one to wait for the opportunity to run away with the candle.” She bobs her head in agreement subconsciously appreciating her mannerisms.

“You could have gone anywhere.” Rhaenyra reminds her, stepping closer and touching her hand. She wasn’t even sure she had made a decision to touch her. All she knew was she had stepped out and suddenly her hand was caressing Mysaria’s. Her skin was so soft and the contact was electrifying. Logically, of course, Rhaenyras own hand was warm from being under the covers of her bed, but to Mysaria it only confirmed Rhaenyras birth right, a true born dragon. 

“You know, I could have had your head for that?” Rhaenyra says with a grin. Mysaria’s eyes widened with confusion before she elaborates. 

“For waking me up to hear MORE disappointing stories about Daemon. He is all I hear about these days, from everyone who wants to undermine me. I hear his name more than I speak it myself as he is never. fucking. here.” Mysaria smiles weakly. 

“Daemon is a…troubled mind. A character to be certain but, well.”

“His issue is he goes around taking what he wants while genuinely believing there will be no consequences. People like that shouldn’t have a dragon.” The caressing spreads to up Mysarias arm, making her gasp in enthusiastic surprise. 

“He was everything I wanted when I was a child. Everything I wanted to be. Perhaps both.” Rhaenyra explained, and Mysaria watches intently, like there is no sound she would rather hear, even late at night on the edge of war. 

“I was everything he wanted too. The rightful heir, young enough to…mould into whatever he wanted.”

“I do not like that he took advantage of you, but, I certainly see why he was so captivated.” The soft movement across Mysarias skin stops and she takes a cautious step back. It’s so small it’s barely noticeable.

“What?”

“I remember your father. Kind, peaceful, humorous, I see him when I look at you. But without that, you are strong, intelligent, beautiful. You are a great mother and a great queen. One who appreciates the subtleties of war. A level headed ruler the realm deserve-“

Mysarias gasp of surprise is silenced by Rhaenyras tongue as it enters her mouth. She presses her warm hands on both of Mysarias cheeks, moaning and deepening the kiss, feeling a passion unmatched to anything she had ever felt before. Those words were like honey. They affirmed her in ways she wasn’t sure she had ever felt. Always so worried about her claim, her children’s claim, the whole being-a-woman thing. Never did she have someone loyal and beautiful who would actually speak to her without hidden agendas or to disagree. No, these words were gratifying and intrigued every part of Rhaenyra.

Mysarias pretty light grey gown was the first to drop to the ground, revealing beautiful skin and curves that had been so criminally concealed. Rhaenyra smiles as her eyes familiarise herself with her body. Her perfect breasts are a refreshing sight for someone who practically had only seen the pair she, herself, possessed. The cool air hardened her exposed nipples, and at this point her head is spinning. Even so, Rhaenyra managed to pull her attention to the rest of Mysaria. Her perfect cunt Rhaenyra started to imagine she was tasting was becoming more inviting by the second. Her stomach too was an image of perfection, much like something she would see sculpted in the galleries back at kings landing. 

“I’ve never…” Rhaenyra began, surprised by the sound of her voice in the deathly quiet room. It was rare for her to depict such vulnerability in these scenes. With most men she had been with, she was the one in charge. Always towering over them, taking what she wanted, using them to feel good, to feel as powerful as she was deep down. Even during her first time she was the one who instigated, never like this. Mysaria gives her a reassuring smile.

“If it is any constellation, your grace, I have never had royal pussy, either.” Rhaenyra laughs at her rather vulgar statement, feeling less tense than before. 

“I want to taste you…” Rhaenyra says, clearing her throat and installing a shroud of false confidence to her words. “May I?” Mysaria nods, sitting at the edge of Rhaenyras bed and spreading her legs. Rhaenyra follows suit, kneeling in front of her. When Mysaria is in view fully now, she notices a scar through her folds which causes her to look up for reassurance. 

“Will it hurt?” She questions. Mysaria shakes her head. 

“My father gave that to me when I was very young.”

“Oh.” She mutters, caressing Mysarias thigh. “That’s awful. I’d understand if you don’t want me to-“

“No. I want you to. Giving me pleasure in the same place he cut seems a rather satisfactory form of revenge would you agree?” Rhaenyra smiles at this.

“I would.” She hums into her inner thighs, kissing and sucking at the skin there. 

An excited gasp leaves her mouth and Rhaenyra notices the way Mysarias excitement drips.

“Need to…” Rhaenyra lets out, tone desperate. Mysaria nods. “Go for I- mmm.” Rhaenyra licks quickly over her clit and the higher sections of her cunt. The pace is eager and unrelenting, causing Mysaria more pleasure than she had anticipated from someone new to all this. Mysaria wraps her hands over her head, fingers weaving into the silver braid she so adored. Now Rhaenyra goes lower, in between her folds and all the way down to her pretty hole, tongue exploring the entrance and pulling a cacophony of noises from Mysaria all at once. 

She tugs on the braid a little and uses strands that had fallen down onto her face to guide her to where she wanted, bringing her closer by the second. 

“fuckfuck…so…ahh-“ Rhaenyra goes even faster, if possible, moving her head now in rhythm. 

Mysaria tugs her hair tight as she cums. Her orgasm rippling through her in waves. Rhaenyra licks every delicious drop, moaning in satisfaction at her new found favourite hobby. She almost felt angry at herself for not experimenting with girls in her youth. Especially when she could have been doing this the whole time. 

She stands up, smiling nervously at Mysaria. 

“Was…that…um…” Her chin is glistening, like that wasn’t answer enough, but Mysaria new words of affirmation was needed right now. Maybe always.

“You did amazing, my queen.” She speaks breathily. Rhaenyra grabs her hips, pulling her in. Then she starts licking and sucking over her chest, making Mysaria gasp again. When she pulls away, Mysaria sucks on Rhaenyras neck, hard, untying the string of her nightdress as she did so.

“This alright?” Mysaria asks. Rhaenyra nods, letting out a hushed “yes.”

Rhaenyra is a sight just as breathtaking. Her smooth, beautiful Targaryen features making Mysaria flush. Perhaps she had chose the wrong Targaryen all those years back. Not that it was much of a choice. 

“You must have a lot to teach me…” Rhaenyra says, feeling exposed in the cool air. Mysaria chuckles softly. 

“Go to the bed and lie down. We will test the waters. See what you like.” Rhaenyra nods. Her imagination could think up many things to be certain, but at the same time she had no idea what she was in for. 

Mysaria gets on top of her, legs on either side of Rhaenyras waist. Her body travels from her collarbone to lower stomach, then to her sensitive cunt. Mysaria raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re so smooth down there.” She remarks. Rhaenyra laughs. 

“The hair that grows there is very fine but I still like to remove it when I have the chance. You like?” Mysaria puts her middle digit onto Rhaenyras tight bundle of nerves, drawing a satisfied “mmm” from her lips. 

“I like.” Mysaria agrees. Her two middle fingers continue, going a little slow just to offer the chance to revel in every sensation. Then, Mysaria curls her fingers inside her loosening walls, hitting every inch so good her eyes were rolling back. 

“Y…you’re good at that.” Rhaenyra breathes out. Mysaria gives a grateful smile. 

“I have been wondering something my queen.” Mysaria says, going a little faster. Rhaenyras eyes flutter.

“P..please… if we are acquainted enough for you to…put your fingers in me…you can at least use my name. Mmm…”

“I have been wondering, Rhaenyra, if it’s true about Targaryen’s being immune to fire.” Rhaenyra lets out a half laugh, half moan.

“That is meant to be legend. Though I hear some Targaryen’s truly can withstand… ohgods..ahem…um…fire.”

“And you?” She asks, removing her fingers and grabbing the flickering candle by her bedside table. 

“Can you be burnt?”

Rhaenyra nods slowly, her eyes dancing with the flame. 

“Some women like mixing a little pain and pleasure.” Mysaria explains, moving the candle in circular motions in the air. “Do you?” Rhaenyras gaze is deadly and intoxicating as she ponders her words.

“Perhaps…we can see.” She says, and Mysarias eyes sparkle in response, well, that and the candlelight reflecting so brilliantly in Mysarias deep coloured eyes.

“We should have a word to say if you want me to stop.”

“A word? What’s wrong with…’stop’” Rhaenyra questions genuinely. This brings another smile to Mysaria. 

“Often when pleasure or pain is overwhelming us in the best way possible, we say stop stop. Even if theres nothing we would want less than to stop. A word like…tart, is an effortless distinction to put a foot on the wheel.” Rhaenyra nods. 

“Tart…I like it.” Mysaria switches the candle to her left hand, putting her fingers back into Rhaenyra with her right. Cautiously, Mysaria pours the wax onto her body, making Rhaenyra shudder in pain. The combined sensation of her nearing orgasm caused her to cry out.

“Do…you need to say tart, Nyra?”

“N..no…Fuck it feels…I’ve never felt…” Mysaria nods in silent understanding, continuing to pump in and out of her. 

The wax solidifies on her skin and Mysaria puts the candle down, rubbing her fingers over it, already sensitive from the burning. 

“So…so good.” Rhaenyra hums, eyes shutting tight.

“I know…let it out I know you can.” Rhaenyra obeys, orgasming intensely and grabbing onto her tightly. 

“What else?” Rhaenyra asks when she finally catches her breath. 

“Need more.”

Mysaria is both surprised and impressed. She starts pulling off the thin bedsheet that was previously perfectly sat on Rhaenyras bed. She gives her a confused look.

“What are you doing with that?” 

“This,” Mysaria starts to say as she pulls at the sheet. “Can be used for restraints. Put your arms up.”

Rhaenyra does so and Mysaria ties it. 

“Have you ever experienced such intense sensations you wanted to scream and writhe around in your pretty bed, but you couldn’t move your arms at all? Couldn’t…defend yourself, almost.” Rhaenrya shakes her head, the idea already exciting her in a way she doubted was healthy. 

“Remember the wor-“

“Tart. I know.” Rhaernya says impatiently. Mysaria grins at the queens eagerness and spreads her legs before climbing over them and positioning her own, wet cunt above Rhaenyras. Slowly, she rotates her hips, making Rhaenyra immediately moan in surprise. She watches Mysarias movements and wants so badly to level herself with each hand and move with her, but they remain very much bound.

“Ahhh…fuck…” Rhaeyra moans again as Mysaria goes even faster, grinding right over her clit over and over again. The sound of them sliding together, slick coating warm skin, it was a melody that would sell for millions. 

The familiar, scream worthy feeling in her stomach swirled and her head revelled as Rhaernyra grew closer to orgasm, eyes rolling back, curses and moans falling out of her lips constantly. That was when Mysaria got off her, standing up in front of where she lay on the bed. Rhaenyra groans in frustration.

“Why did you stop?” She asks bitterly. Mysaria says nothing, ensuring she makes direct eye contract as her fingers plunge into herself. Rhaenyra gasps at this.

“Wh- in front of me?”

“You must have been close, huh?” Mysaria taunts. Rhaenyras eyes darken.

“Mysaria. Get back here.”

“Beg.” Mysaria says. Her words are dangerous. Status wise Rhaenyra has almost infinitely more power than Mysaria, and with men that power always translated. Never would she beg for anything. Never…

“Please.” Mysaria smile is wider than the narrow sea before she returns to her position on Rhaenyra, rocking her hips back and forth.

“Ah~ seven hells that- fuck you, don’t stop..” A mischievous look paints Mysarias eye as she obeys Rhaenyra. She wasn’t going to stop. Not even if she was begging for it. When Rhaenyra cums harshly, her hands still restrained. She expects the unrelenting pace to let up, her cunt already so sensitive. 

Mysaria stands up, curling her fingers inside Rhaenyra again. 

“Gods- Mysaria what are y- ohfuckstopstop mmm”

“You know the word.” Mysaria reminds her. And she does. Tart. A word as bittersweet as the ones she used to pick the lemons off of as a child. It was a lot, in truth. She had cum all over her fingers, she had her pussy soaked against Mysarias and now her fingers were inside her again. She was covered in sweat, wax and slick, whether it was hers or Mysarias she didn’t know. It would be a perfect point to stop. To clean herself and lie in Mysarias arms. But as her fingers pumped in and out, making her scream in pleasure and pain, she simply couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“I kn…know.” Mysaria hums in satisfaction, continuing her thrusting harder now. When Mysaria finally lets up after her third orgasm, she unties Rhaenyra and kisses her deeply, tongue caressing the inner walls of her cheek. Rhaenyras hair is a mess. The braid, whatever remained of it, was over half out, with strands sticking to her face in different places.

“That was…yes.” Rhaenyra says a little awkwardly. Mysaria nods.

“Does this mean I can say I have ridden a dragon?” Rhaenyra laughs at the statement. 

“Daemon is a targraryean too. Thought you were already a dragon rider.”

“That was a long time ago. I’d rather be with you any day than the father of a school of bastards who runs for the hills and makes bad choices.” Rhaenyra sighs at this. She is right, of course, but her words sting to hear.

“My sons…they” Rhaenyra started to say. Mysaria smiled brightly. 

“I know. They are perfect.” She says, exchanging a knowing look that lasts long enough for the silence to spread.

“At least you needn’t worry about mothering my children, Rhaenyra. We don’t exactly have the requirements for it.”

The unexpectedness of the sentence causes them both to laugh and Rhaenyra pulls her in to a hug.

“Thank you for your support.” Rhaenyra mumbles. Mysaria nods.

“Of course your grace.”

Could someone please recommend some good tragic Rhaenicent fics? I’m open to any length, and they don’t even need to be endgame—I just want something tragic, painful, and gut-wrenching. I’d even accept fics that aren’t explicitly romantic, as long as they love each other more than they should and their relationship is colored by their envy, hate, and everything in between.

For example, an AU where Rhaenyra survives, but all her children are dead, so she visits Alicent in her tower—not just to torment her, savoring her slow descent into madness, but also because she craves her company. She still loves this woman in front of her, even as she hates her for everything she is and has done.

Do you get what I mean? I want it to hurt, I want it to bleed, and I want madness—whether it’s mine or theirs, it doesn’t matter.

Star Wars HOTD AU

An AU where it is the HOTD setting with Star Wars characters. There's so many ideas that won't leave my mind. Like:

The jedi as dragon riders who protected the republic. Having the force and their dragons. With lightsabers being an equivalent to Valyrian steel swords.

Coruscant as King's Landing. With the king being replaced with the chancellor.

Each mayor planet being a kingdom with the lesser ones being cities.

Mandalore as Dorne, with their dragon killing beskar spears and hatred of the jedi. Having been able to resist conquest and refusing to join.

The unkown regions being the zone beyond the wall. Where sith magic and the darkside abound.

Plot wise I was thinking about how similar Daenerys and Luke are. Maybe Luke is the one that brings dragons back into the realm in a parallel to the ritual Daenerys did, only with Darth Vader, Sidious and himself instead of Khal Drogo, Mirri and Daenerys.

Or maybe we could see Anakin falling to the darkside and leading to the end of dragons and jedi alike.

There's so much that could be done with this idea, but i am curious as to what other people think.

Spoiler!!!!! 2x08!!! Spoiler...don't watch it if you aren't ready for it

We're off to battle again, old girl. | Rhaenys & Meleys

Crying over the fact that Aemma had a daughter and then lost 5 sons/children and Rhaenyra had 5 sons and then lost her daughter.

Daenys VI

The dance of the Golds and Reds

The dance of the Golds and Reds

Chapter 12 is out

Princess Rhaenyra of house Targaryen heir to the iron throne

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen

The queen who never was

Chapter 11 is out

The dance of the Golds and Reds

Tyshara Lannister

Former lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen

Cerelle Lannister

Former Lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen

Chapter ten is out

Chapter nine is out

 Millicent Belmore

Former lady in waiting to the late queen Aemma Aryn

Lady Ruby Stokeworth

Lady in waiting to Queen Daenys Targaryen

Ser Criston Cole

The Dance of the Golds and Reds

Daenys Targaryen Queen of Love and Beauty

The dance of the golds and the reds

chapter 8 is out

The dance of the Golds and Reds

Chapter 7 is here guys

Lucielle Corbray

Grand maester Bartimos