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sansa stark defender.

[dragonknights]

A RAVEN CAME FROM THE CITADEL… paige, she/her pronouns, nineteen, house targaryen+dayne loyalist, braime endgame!!

A WHITE RAVEN main blog, sports rpf blog (i am not able to follow back from this blog, if you would like to be mutuals, just lmk 🫶🏻)

WINTER IS HERE up next & requests:

not in order, i choose my own path

nsfw alphabet requests!

from far off lands

requests are currently open! i’ll pretty much write anything lol, just send me an ask! (but i should say that im not the fastest writer, so it might take me a while to actually post stuff) the characters down below are the ones i write for (italics indicate favourites)

fire and blood: aegon i targaryen, visenya targaryen, rhaenys targaryen, maegor targaryen, aegon ii targaryen, helaena targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, alicent hightower, gwayne hightower, criston cole, cregan stark, jacaerys velaryon, brynden rivers

dunk and egg novellas/a knight of the seven kingdoms: baelor targaryen, duncan the tall, aerion targaryen, maekar targaryen, valarr targaryen, daeron targaryen, donnel of duskendale, roland crakehall

a song of ice and fire: daenerys targaryen, rhaegar targaryen, viserys targaryen, jaime lannister, cersei lannister, tyrion lannister, tywin lannister, ned stark, jon snow (stark), sansa stark, sandor clegane, tormund giantsbane, jorah mormont, petyr baelish, roose bolton, victarion greyjoy, theon greyjoy, davos seaworth, stannis baratheon, arthur dayne

©DRAGONKNIGHTS, all works are my own and i do not consent to any reposts, translations, copies or ai alterations.

[dragonknights]

I will take one for the team and finish asking for all the great bastards: pretty pls can we get Daemon Blackfyre with V, X and Y from the nsfw alphabet?

-🌌

omg I’ve been waiting for this one 🤭 daemon is one of my favesssss idc if his claim meant nothing baby I’ll follow you anyway

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Maybe an unpopular opinion, but he’s loud as hell. No point hiding how much he’s enjoying it; whoever dares to judge him will meet the tip of his sword (the actual blade, not the one in between his legs). When he gets close to that edge, he'll make whimpering, crackly little noises that just sound so sweet and honestly kind of hard to believe that such a respected and skilled warrior can make sounds like that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is known for his striking good looks, a true Valyrian; that passage continues on once you're in his breeches. Slightly above average, thicker than it is longer, with a blushing red tip that makes your heart pound. Not perfectly groomed but neat nonetheless, with stark white hairs at the base that curl a little.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It was high already, especially when it came to you, but during the rebellion? Anytime he wasn’t on the battlefield, he was inside you. During the earliest of hours was his favourite time, and fortunately that happened every day! So it’s safe to say that out of all of his half-siblings, he is the horniest.

[dragonknights]

i had to enter the chat. E/F/G with my QUEEN shiera pretty please with cherry on top?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s got plenty; they don’t consider her to be a seductress for nothing. Most of her sexual escapades are with men, but she’s captured the hearts of several women too. Shiera knows exactly what she’s doing, familiar with all the ways a person can crumble with the perfected flick of her silver tongue. She expects a similar amount of knowledge from you too; at the very least, she expects that you know how to eat it. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Scissoring missionary style, she prefers it with you on top and desperate as she bucks into you manically. Her hands will move back and forth between each of your sweaty bodies; sometimes she’ll have her touch heavy on your skin, soft and teasing as she grinds nails down your back. Other times she’ll keep her hands to herself, maybe wrapped around pieces of her soft hair or circling her perked nipples. You’ll have her on her back when you eat her out, her legs wrapped tight around your shoulders as she forces your mouth further on her. (I'm not sure what Westerosi customs come up with regarding sex toys; maybe you'd have to find something from the Free Cities, a Cleopatra-esque bees-in-a-jar type thing.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Shiera is very witty and beyond mischievous, but it doesn’t play a major part during these intimate times. Not exactly humorous, she won’t laugh at you or direct cocky insults, but she will remain condescending. Sometimes cruel with her jests, other times she will whisper the sweetest of words into the crown of your hair.

[dragonknights]

Atp I'll start using an anon emoji for how often I plan to stay here hehe

But anyway- I am here to ask the important questions, who has better dick, Bloodraven or Bittersteel?

-🌌

Mmmm. I’m thinking of 2 different scenarios right now. What I wonder constitutes “better dick”? Like who’s got better dick game, or who has a more impressive penis? 🧐🧐🧐

Maybe I am a little biased, but Bloodraven has got some ferocious dick game, he knows what he’s doing with that thing. Like literally every other time it’s punching the shit out of you, and he knows it too, like please Brynden it’s too much I can’t take it.

On the other hand, Aegor’s got a hog in his trousers. Veiny, heavy, curves to one side. I like the concept of most targs/targ-adjacent individuals having micropenises it makes me laugh 😭but definitely not Bittersteel, he’s packing crazy length, type d on the catching print scale (that’s why Bloodraven hates him so much) Shiera seriously doesn’t know what she’s missing.

[dragonknights]

Ok but we need to give Bittersteel some love toooo. Can I get x, f and d for Aegor pls 🥺

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not that he’d ever wish to admit it to you, but he is intrigued by the idea of “acting it out”. Maybe you’re some wench in a far-away tavern, sat on his cock, funnelling mead into his awaiting mouth as he thrusts up into you. Maybe you’d dress up in old sets of armour, and the two of you would battle it out in style. Maybe even you’d dress up like his half-sister.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. His chest is pressed to the backs of your thighs, slapping against them until the soft skin there is raw. He’ll grip onto your calf with one large, calloused hand. With the other, he’ll place it around your neck, squeezing down every few moments as you gasp around him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Well above average, (Am I the only one convinced that targs have small dicks? Other than Maegor ofc he’s built crazy.) It curves to the left and sits heavy and veiny. Does unbelievable work on your cervix. He knows just how to use it and loves to watch you struggle to take it. Sprouts of coarse black and white hairs on the pubic bone, a nod to his mixed lineage.

[dragonknights]

The Brynden Rivers obsession is going strong bestie 😩 can I request C, D and P for the nsfw alphabet?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s indifferent about it, or at least he tries to be. Has a particular fondness for finishing over your face, kneeling in front of him and waiting. But also, I would say, to a certain degree, he is a traditionalist. Likes the idea of cumming inside you, creating life with a single breath. He most definitely likes knowing you’re walking around with it trailing down your legs from beneath your skirts. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

“How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? A thousand eyes, and one.” Voyeuristic to a fault. Brynden is a watcher, especially when you're least expecting it. Maybe he’ll watch just from the corner of your bedchamber, hidden behind an alcove or a set of curtains. You’ll be on the bed, legs spread, dress skirts hiked up enough until you're able to pleasure yourself with a shaky hand. He’ll watch and do nothing at all—won’t act surprised when you finally see him and rage. Certainly won’t touch you, not until you start begging. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very deliberate with his pace. If he thinks you can’t take it, he’ll go fast, a punishing brute speed that’ll have you hanging onto bedposts for dear life. If he thinks you're enjoying it a bit too much, he’ll slow down, thrusting without any harmonious force, leaving you unable to predict what’s next. 

[15-lizards]

This Brynden Rivers tea…

[dragonknights]

bloodraven when he gets sent to arrakis instead of the wall

[dragonknights]

a brynden writer at last… welcome back azor ahai 🙏🙏 love the stuff you’ve written so far!

would you please be able to do any of M / O / V for the NSFW alphabet for mr bloodraven?

thank you so much in advance!

tis i, the prince that was promised. also u were the first to request something for this so thank you 😼

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice. The way it appears behind him like a vision. Your touch, a hand brushing through his hair and down his birthmark, fingers dancing over the darkened skin like it's silk. Eye contact from across a busy room is what really can get him going. He’ll be by himself in the corner, eye scanning over the room like a hawk. He’ll watch you for hours as you mingle, face unchanging. Someone will try talking to him; he’ll respond with single words, unmoving his gaze. And when you finally look back to him, you know exactly what he wants.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He uses it as a tool of control. When going down on you, he likes to remind you of his authority. Never too much at one time, he’ll prolong the experience for as long as necessary. At first it’s gentle, faint kisses to your heat that you can only feel if you're really paying attention. Then he’ll delve deep once you're truly desperate, languid strokes of his tongue down your cunt. Once you're finished, he’ll keep going.

It’s similar for when he gets the same treatment. One firm hand slipped through your hair, the other feeding his cock slowly into your mouth. It’s paced and meticulous, as he always is. Those shallow sounds of his grow louder the deeper you go. You bite down softly just to see how he reacts; he’ll snarl before wrapping his hand around your neck. Not tight enough to halt your breathing, but still enough to keep you from getting too brave.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t the loudest; he groans quiet and low with every few thrusts. When you clench down on his length, he has to bite back any feral sounds, heightened cries, or whimpers. Though, when he’s close to peaking, it’s hard to hold back. Involuntary noises leave his pursed lips, cracking little moans that sound like flames.

[dragonknights]

i would like to do nsfw alphabets but i don’t want to do entire ones for just one character.. so pls send an ask with a character and maybe 1-3 letters and ill write some blurbs!!!!

also please specify what type of reader you want! for example please include: afab, amab, pronouns! ♥️

characters i’ll write for: aegon i targaryen, visenya targaryen, rhaenys targaryen, maegor targaryen, aegon ii targaryen, helaena targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, alicent hightower, gwayne hightower, criston cole, cregan stark, jacaerys velaryon, brynden rivers, shiera seastar, aegor rivers

baelor targaryen, duncan the tall, aerion targaryen, maekar targaryen, valarr targaryen, daeron targaryen, donnel of duskendale, roland crakehall

daenerys targaryen, rhaegar targaryen, viserys targaryen, jaime lannister, cersei lannister, tyrion lannister, tywin lannister, ned stark, jon snow (stark), sansa stark, sandor clegane, tormund giantsbane, jorah mormont, petyr baelish, roose bolton, victarion greyjoy, theon greyjoy, davos seaworth, stannis baratheon, arthur dayne

and honestly those are just the characters i have in my pinned post, i’ll write for anyone, especially the more obscure characters so even if you want the magnar of thenns or anguy the archer ill write for them LMAO 😭

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

[dragonknights]

i really really want to write a long(ish) fic for jaime, i know most of my readers prefer akotsk stuff but would anyone want some kingslayer????

[dragonknights]

want to post a fic to ao3 because the idea is way too crazy for tumblr…. but now i’m even contemplating writing it 😭

[dragonknights]

asoiaf fandom is crazy cuz why tf are you shipping everyone LMAOOOO

[dragonknights]

plain sight

valarr “valarra” targaryen/fem!reader, 1529 words.

valarr is gender swapped in this fic if that wasn’t clear already, it’s heavily inspired by these artworks by CrazyTom0712, wlw (my first time writing it i’m sorry if it’s chopped) this was lowkenuinley supposed to be a fic for rhaenyra but i changed it once i saw the art 😼, nsfw content, cunnilingus, kinda angsty if you squint

She could hear the old man talk through his wine. Dribbled red liquid slipped down the corner of his mouth, reaching far enough to stain the collar of his rumpled doublet. He’s old, much older than her, but still breathing. That’s all that’s required for him to be a possible suitor. Men from all over the realm have come to the castle tonight, not in search of honour through battle, but for the princess' hand.

Valarra was the firstborn child of Baelor Targaryen, who happens to be next in line for the Iron Throne. He will be king one day; all in his line must prepare themselves, her included, most importantly.

She’s of age now, has been for a number of years, but Breakspear has a soft spot for his daughter that no one can deny. There were words spoken of a betrothal to her cousin Daeron, but nothing came of it; he was far too drunk. Aemon was too bookish, a marriage close to that of her uncle, and Aerion was too cruel to even consider it, though that never stopped him from pestering her whenever they happened to be together.

She didn’t want to marry some faraway lord and be forced to spend her days as a broodmare, pushing out wired heirs to a name that didn’t matter. She didn't want to leave the place she only ever knew, whether it be the towering Red Keep or gritty Dragonstone. Valarra just wanted you.

You were her lady-in-waiting, her closest companion, and had been ever since your father arrived to the capital as a courtier under Daeron the Good’s reign. She remembers the day you first met, corsets sewn tight, hair done high. You came with your father to find a husband; at least that was expected of you. Never would you think to find anything more.

Nights spent giggling under covers, fingers peeling back the pages of old love stories. Days spent in gardens, flowers trampled under your step, wind in your hair. And then, that late afternoon. It rained heavily that day, and the downpour embraced the cobbled streets with a dense hand. You remained in the princess’ bedchambers for most of the day, talking about magic and dragons and whatever came to mind. It was good; it was kind. Then, you kissed her. It was a swift touch, a gentle press of lips before breaking apart. Before you knew it, the both of you fell into laughter, maybe at the idea, maybe at the way it made your hearts race. You leaned in and kissed her again and again until her back was flush to the settee, silken brown curls splayed on the cushions like a crown.

The truth lingered in the quiet moments: how wrong it was. How she knew the Gods were watching, how distasteful it seemed. But it didn’t matter, not when your hands happened to be so soft, so safe. You never spoke of it again, but you never stopped doing it either.

She locks eyes with you from her place at the table; a drink sits in your grasp. You tilt the goblet towards her, a small smile on your face. She responds silently with an eye roll, sticking out her tongue in disgust. That causes you to laugh into your cup; her heart flutters at the sight. The lord talking at her catches the act and grumbles. He must know that she’s making fun of him; a soured pout curls his wrinkled features. The man stands with a huff and leaves her there; relief floods her mind as she settles against the chair. A serving boy appears beside her, a tray of drinks in his hand. She takes one and thanks the servant; he blushes before dispersing, stuttered footsteps taking him away to the next table.

“Not to your liking, Princess?” You ask now in front of her; the hemline of your satin dress flutters against her ankle. It’s a pale pink colour, with windows of skin trailing up your arms.

“He recollected my grandmother's beauty when she was my age and compared it to mine.”

You laugh again, hand coming up to cover your mouth as it happened to be much louder than you intended. A smile graces her face as she watches you, thumb skimming the edge of the lace tablecloth. She’d marry you if it was possible; you spend all day lounging in corners of the castle or in the godswood, head in your lap as you brush through her hair. No more disturbances from ancient lords, no dwelling on whether seed had taken root in her womb. Just you and her.

As the evening came to a close, and the sun had finally turned below the horizon, Valarra finally felt as if she could breathe again. Her bedchamber has a balcony attached, overlooking the godswood. From the edge, she can hear the trees graze against one another, leaves falling from the wood. The sound is peaceful; she tends to stay out there when sleep evades her or just to take a moment of solace.

“Something haunting you, my love?”

Your voice appears like a lantern in the fog, beaconing her to return to a state of being. She sighs before turning back to the room; you're at the table in the center, feet kicked up on a plush footstool. Without thinking, Valarra places herself sideways on your lap, chin coming to rest on your shoulder as she nudges your shoulder with hers. You counter the new weight with a tender hand grabbing her waist, balancing her on top with ease. “My father hopes to secure a betrothal soon enough; I can feel it.”

Her words are muffled as she presses herself closer, mouth resting on your neck. Yes, it’s likely true. The realm grows weary the longer she stays unmarried, already tense tethers of loyalty unraveling faster than the truth. She’s a woman of the Seven Kingdoms; her fate was confirmed the moment she was born. You bear a similar resolution, but you were just the daughter of a nobleman, no princess. It ate away at you, the anxieties that consumed every fibre of her being. You wished to pacify her worries, soothe the stress that had her in tears most nights alone.

Maybe, they’d let you go with her, as a companion, something familiar from home. Maybe she’d go to you the night of her wedding, body aching after the bedding ceremony. You’d clean the dried fluid off her thighs and simply watch as she climbs into your bed. It’s unlikely, but maybe the Gods would be merciful for once.

“I do not long for it.” She confirms quietly, threading her fingers through the small hairs on the nape of your neck. “I do not know what I long for.”

“I could help you with that.”

She lifts her head from your shoulder, eyes glittering with sudden desire. You hardly need to say a word; she already knows. Valarra nods, tucking her top lip into her teeth. You kiss her while sliding your forefinger under her chin. Lips slanted together, the touch grows intense when she grinds down.

Without breaking the kiss, you guide her upwards until you're both standing. Slowly, you walk her back until she sits down on the bed. Then, you kneel in between her spread legs, slipping your hands under the dark dress. The skin gets warmer the further you reach; a soft moan leaves her as you press into her heat. The skirt rides up on her thighs, bearing the flesh for all to see. But it's only you here; you’d cut down anyone else who dared to look.

"Please" She begs, gripping your shoulder.

Her expression is one of indulgence, despite you not doing anything yet. Your princess is kind; there’s no need to tease, so you don’t. Her chemise is linen, practically sheer. You can see everything without lifting it, but you do anyway. Her cunt is as pretty as she is; wisps of coarse brown hair rest on the mound. The colour of her skin is usually a fleshy pink, but due to her arousal, it’s turned into a wine red. She’s eager for it, legs closing around you as you lean in. First, you place a soft kiss on the warmth, then you lick a strip down the slit.

Valarra responds accordingly, moaning as you continue with the languid kisses.

She tugs harshly at your hair as you lap at her nub, toes curling as she shudders. “Oh— seven hells.”

You laugh, teeth grazing the sensitive skin; she just pulls tighter. Your hands are braced over her thighs, trying to pull her closer.

You can’t stop; the sweetness of her arousal is addicting. You don’t stop even when her back arches and she lets out a loud whine. Her vision fades to black as the peak shatters through her; she moans your name one last time.

Valarra wouldn’t have it; nobody could marry her, not any lord, not her cousins. Nobody could marry you either; you'd have to run away somewhere, get lost in the Free Cities, and grow old in the Dornish deserts, together.

[dragonknights]

you guys rocking with this or nah????

edit: it’s right here 😌😌😌😌😌

[dragonknights]

kinky love.

my fave targs and their kinks 😼 just straight up smut idk what else to say, dark content with maegor, mentions of aerion just being himself

edit: if anyone wanted me to expand on any of these ideas lmk ;)

dacryphilia, maegor targaryen

Maegor is mean, there's no doubt about it. Maegor the Cruel is what they call him. Ever broad and tall, he took up more space than anyone else. They say he was born to be a warrior, swung a sword before he took his first steps. He craved violence; he craved control. You first met at the tourney held for your brother’s nameday; he arrived atop Balerion the Black Dread, scaled banners flying in his name. A ferocious beast, one fit for him.

He made you cry that day in front of everyone, shouting cruelty and curses. Just because he could—he was a dragon; he had a dragon twice the size of any mountain you could see. There was something wild in his eyes when those first tears fell. Pleasure and absolute entertainment. You considered throwing yourself off the highest tower when he said he'd make you his wife.

Even now he still loves to make you cry. Fat tears rolled over the tender plains of your face as he plunged into your heat. His cock was as brutal as he was, flushed blood red as you sobbed. You hated him, how determined he was to make the seed take root. Hated how badly he wanted a son, how many women he'd gone through just to make it happen. Hated how cut-throat he was, he killed his own brother just for the crown. You especially hated just how much you loved it.

brat-taming/impact play, aerion targaryen

Aerion could never be as heinous as his ancestor, but he was getting close. Spiteful and mad, Brightflame was a heat no one could smother. No one except you, and gods, did you love it.

He had just come back from training in the knights' yard, a wide smile on his pale face. He came to you, hands latching onto your waist like he could, talking gleefully about how he broke the finger of the squire that struck mud into his doublet. You said nothing as he went on, only nodding when he looked at you expectantly, hand brushing over his cheek in gentle waves.

Then, you hit him. A loud slap right on his face. His head is forced to the side, now reddening at the attack. Then he turns back to look you in the eye. You pay no mind to the growing anger that builds into his lilac irises. Instead, you fuck him. Right there on the settee, on top and in control. Though he fights it, you can hear the soft sounds that leave his wet lips as you rock up and down. Little whines, like a dog. You hit him again, and he comes with a loud moan. He falls against you then, his face stuck in the corner of your neck. You don’t stop, not until it sinks into that pretty little head of his. It probably never will, but that doesn't reduce your want for it.

blindfolds/bondage, brynden rivers

You couldn't see. Fabric pulled tightly over your eyes, you weren't supposed to see. To rely on all other senses was a challenge, but he didn't care. It was a game you'd play together; how long would it take for you to start begging? At first it was simple. Mindless teasing in quiet corridors, maybe a finger or two under your dress during royal meals. But then, he got brave.

You're on the bed, legs spread, naked, and hands tied to the corners with leather as he stands in front of you. You couldn't see him, but you could feel him. He was quiet on purpose, with light steps and slow breaths; you gasp when his knee digs into the bed. Though it's hushed, you hear him laugh to himself. Amused at your current predicament, the same one he put you in.

Then he leans in and presses his tongue to your heat. You respond diligently, pushing your hips forward to chase his touch. His hand braces on your inner thigh, fingers pinching at the tender flesh there. “Careful, girl. Or I'll leave you here.”

You nod, moaning as he delves back in. His tongue flicks against your nub, and you keen, back arched and brows furrowed. It's a game to him; everything's a game to Bloodraven, whether you want to play or not.

threesome, rhaegar targaryen & jon connington

The tourney at Harrenhal would be remembered for years to come. It was the greatest of its time; the king had knighted the Lannister boy, and Ashara Dayne, with her long hair and dazzling eyes, danced with many men but brought the young wolf to her bed despite it. You’d remember it in far different ways.

Jon Connington was in front, red hair messy and damp. He breathed over you heavily, just to compose himself. Rhaegar’s at your side, already spent. You let him nip at your collarbone, shifting a hand through his silver hair. He was the champion of the joust; you wanted to congratulate him in your own way, but Jon followed too. So, you let him join in as well.

When he started to push his way inside, he groaned at the tight feeling of your warmth. It took him a while, but when he was fully flush against you, he shuddered. You felt Rhaegar smile at your breast before he began to make his way down the bed, leaving small kisses in his path. Time seemed to slow when the prince finally settled against your hip, his nose brushing against Jon’s navel as he placed a kiss to where you both were connected. Jon moans again, voice cracking at the touch. You laugh to yourself, mainly in amusement, but the pleasure was something that made every action involuntary. You wonder what you could convince them to do next; maybe, if you asked nicely enough, you could have them both inside at once.

[aralshiral]

baelor maekar touches #losingit

[aralshiral]

just a man you really want to be squished by