I'm Chas! she/her/hers. Black. Bi. 28. Rhaenyra's Velaryon Queen. Back on my Wrestling fixation. Lover of anime, rock/alternative music, books, writing, comics, learning, geeky culture in general, Kpop! Multi Stan! Please do not Repost my work on any other sites.
Masterpost of links for Palestine, Sudan, and more!
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Help Gaza Children fundraiser to help families afford necessities + Learning about Palestine + Ahmed Abdeen and his family's GFM
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Mutual Aim is a fundraiser that splits donations to DR Congo, Sudan, and Tigray
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Spreadsheet of multiple fundraisers for Palestine, Tigray, Sudan, DR Congo, Syria, etc.
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Sudanese gfm list
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If you have donated to any fundraiser, you can get an art commission from me!
i'm so sorry to carol, kamala, monica, wanda, jean, ororo, kate, jennifer/she-hulk, riri, america chavez, rogue, agatha, sylvie, natasha, and the eternals. i'm so sorry my loves you deserve so much better
This is so Alicent coded. Her thinking about Rhaenyra . Just from a repressed lesbian perspective instead of how the song was originally. Plz check out Elsie's other covers, they are divine.
I just think it's kind of unrealistic that Rheanyra is out here looking like this & Alicent hasn't fallen to her knees yet in a gay panic. Surely it's only a matter of time? 🤔
Can You Truly Quell A Dragon?~Rhaenyra x fem! reader
Pairing: Rhaenyra x reader
Premise: You're watching Rhaenyra's mind unravel, anxieties and fears overtake through her first few official days as queen and all you want to do is ease her, in more ways than one.
Valyrian Used : Rina syz [good girl]; Dreje ilzyna iksa [you're so wet] ;Ajorraelenka [needy] ; Toli jaelan [I want more]
Word Count: 2.5k
Writer's Note: Back on my Rhaenyra fixation thanks to season three. She looks so good, of course I couldn't resist. The Valyrian I used isn't perfect by any means, just wanted to add an extra layer of spice, got all of it from here. Please comment your thoughts, hope y'all enjoy!
You noticed it.
The first time was when she was addressing her small council; you peeked under the thick arm of her personal guard, a gold cloak that wouldn't be permanent. He held Daemon in high regard, only succumbing to his Queen at the behest of the Rogue Prince, so you always kept him in the corner of your eye as you watched Rhaenyra move through the Red Keep.
She didn't jump out of her skin as the rat scurried across her foot, just raised her leg up and slightly yelped. You noticed the disappointment etched onto her face as she walked from the room and into the great hall.
When her monthly bleeding came, the words she uttered frightened you half to death. Being around your Queen was tense—she was tense—leaving Dragonstone ushered a sense of normalcy with how true this was for not only you, but for Rhaenyra, too.
As the pressing issues continued to quell your Queen, her distance from you grew.
You weren't far when you heard lord Corlys' outburst, calling out not only Rhaenyra's honor but the legacy of her boys, her dead boys who she loved and cherish all the same. Corlys kept his head, along with his life; Rhaenyra seemed horrified but you saw more within her eyes. You saw a lingering grievance aching to be let out, with an anger stuck deep within her heart.
It appeared again after another small council meeting. She called it off, claiming it to only be because of cramps.
It came up again when a disheveled dragon keeper rushed towards her, delivering unfortunate news. You couldn't follow it all, since you couldn't understand High Valyrian too well, and you were in the middle of throwing half of the Greens banners into a flaming pile.
You did catch Rhaenyra skulking around the flames with an intense eye contact that made your stomach pool with want, eager to give her whatever prophetical wish she wanted granted within those flames.
No. She was officially Queen now. She kept you in the dark; you had to respect her wishes. Regardless of how much you wanted to hold her, regardless of how drab Dragonstone was, it was a different realm than Kings Landing. Rhaenyra was different now.
"Y/N?"
You glanced up at the flames, finding Rhaenyra next to you. She was always captivating, although the nearby flames gave her silver Targaryen locks a yellow twinge, accentuating like the tip of a lit fire.
You bowed your head. "Y-Yes, your grace?"
Rhaenyra smiled, a quick quirk of her lips. She gently took your wrist as she got in your space to whisper. "Come with me."
You had no time to follow as she marched you all the way to her private chambers. Once you got to the door, Rhaenyra let you go in order to talk to her personal guard, who followed close, akin to loud shadows.
"Give me my privacy, ser," she ordered. "I'm more than capable for an hour of peace."
The guard nodded, bowed and left.
Rhaenyra pulled you inside, the tenderness she had seeped away, just a bit due to the tension at her fingertips.
Her room was neat, up kept due to the constant tending you and her other ladies-in-waiting do for her throughout the day. Once the door was closed, sealing you and Rhaenyra alone together for the first time since she sat the iron throne as queen.
She paced the room, played with her rings; the sight had slightly dizzy, the fire from earlier exhausted you. You sat and watched her.
"Why must the Gods test me so?" she muttered. "Should I rule as my father did or bring down fire and blood as my ancestors did, they wouldn't challenge me. They wouldn't deceive and--"
"Your grace."
Her head snapped up to you, stopping her mid sentence. She stalked over, eyeing you heavily like the dragon she commanded, forcing you to slide away from her.
Rhaenyra caught you by the arm before you could completely leave her reach. She stroked your arm delicately, all while staring at you, entrapping you in those purple, valyrian eyes.
You knew what it meant, thighs pressing together at the attention. It's all you truly wanted, moreso, you desired to break away from that thich mast of depression that clung to your Queen since she lost her daughter--now lingering more since the loss of her sons.
"Y-Your grace?" you asked again.
Rhaenyra twitched. She brought up at hand, stroking your face. "My sweet girl, you've been more than loyal to me for the past few years," she said, lips quirking up in a tiny grin. "Maybe I should have sought your council."
Being able to finally lean into her touch again was glorious. She hadn't been this careful in days, focused on anything without a slip of that mask she formed to hide her fear and grief.
"What should I do, hm?" she said. "Should I remain civil to Alicent, appease and get ready for whatever game Ormound Hightower is playing in Tumbleton, or should I just burn it all. Burn all of my enemies as Daemon wished, as what my heart bellowed since my own daughter and father were taken from me? As did the sons who perished for me to sit on that accursed throne of swords?"
Rhaenyra clasped your hands in her own now, squeezing tight. She spoke to you, clearly, yet you still believed they were geared to herself and her personal council. You weren't completely sure what she should do. Tumbleton shouldn't burn, yet Alicent being in her ear only brought her trouble. Rhaenyra was queen however, she didn't need your council or anyone else's to do what she thought was true and absolute. She did need to grieve though; she need to remove that mask.
"Y/N?" she tilted your chin up with her finger. "Are you listening?"
You nodded. "O-Of course, your grace. But do you really need my council?"
Rhaenyra chuckles humorlessly. "I wouldn't be asking so if I didn't."
You bit your lip and decided to be honest. "You should do what you think is right, my queen--"
Rhaenyra blinked. "What I think is...right?" she spoke slow, like the words were foreign on her lips.
You unwound your hands from her own and pressed one of them against her chest. The beats of her heart were steady, as it was when you laid with over the past few months.
"Your father made you heir and, as you said, you need not want your sons--your children dead for nothing," you explained.
Rhaenyra's gaze stayed on you, narrowing while her hand worked up and around your arm, caressing your shoulder. She said nothing else, prompting you to do the same as she silenced you with a deep kiss. She was rough, body flush on yours, pushing you to lay on your back.
"Would you feel a way of me, hm?" she whispered. Your queen laid a trail of kisses down the base of your neck. "If I incinerated our enemies, would that scare you?"
Her words carried a heavy weight, though cavalier in her tone; it was as if Daemon spoke them, not the woman who only ever offered you sweet words, tender touches.
At your hesitation, Rhaenyra's hand went up to take your throat, lightly, but still there.
"Tell me, sweet girl," she commanded.
Her voice went deeper, hoarse, a definite command; your thighs pressed together again. Rhaenyra noticed this time, smiling slyly.
"Does that excite you?"
You swallowed and shook your head. "N-No your grace--"
Rhaenyra pressed her finger tips on your throat, still slight but you felt her more. "Don't lie, please, don't lie."
You hadn't dared to, not with the desperation in her voice or the way her purple eyes searched your face for an answer.
"Yes. Yes, it does, my queen."
Rhaenyra growled, the act akin to Syrax as she tapped your side. "Turn around."
You flopped onto your belly and Rhaenyra's hands clung to your hips before clawing and tearing at your dress. Her mouth found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the back of your neck while her hands moved lower, dipping into the fabric of your undergarments.
"Please," you groaned.
"Mmh, all you have to do is tell me, sweet girl," Rhaenyra whispered. She paused to suckle at your pulse point, forcing you to jerk in her arms. "Tell your queen what you want, otherwise, I'll take my sweet time...I missed these breasts on purpose."
Her hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and twirling the nipple slowly.
"Please! Touch me!" you moaned.
Rhaenyra grinned against your skin. "I am, Y/N. As you wanted," she said, accentuating each word with a roll of her finger across your nipple. "Perhaps you should be clearer with your demands."
She played with your chest more, making it difficult to answer. With a huff of breath at your ear and those familiar fingertips at your throat, Rhaenyra whispered. "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough myself."
Her voice went to those deep depths again, hitting you straight to your core. "Y-Your fingers my queen. I need them inside," you said, nearly sobbing.
Rhaenyra kissed your ear. "Rina syz."
Your hips jerked involuntarily at the valyrian being spoken so close. Rhaenyra chased, dipped her hand below the fabric, moaning at your already dampened cunt.
"Ah, dreje ilzyna iksa," she groaned, moving along your slick.
She was slow like before when she had you against the table at Dragonstone, eliciting noises from you that would rival any common whore of Kings Landing while she fingered you to release.
This time was different. Once she pushed in, she found your clit and rubbed there fast, hard and in a dizzying rhythm that nearly brought you to release. Your hand found her wrist to signal the building towards your peak.
"Not yet," Rhaenyra purred, switching back to the common tongue. "Face me, now."
You faced your queen again.
A deeper kiss was pressed to your lips. "Beautiful," she said, pulling back to take in your frustrated face. She moved from over top of you aback to the beds center, bunching up her gown and skirts to reveal her toned thighs. "Ride me."
You kissed her, now being the one to rip and tear, pull at her dress until it was pooled to the floor.
Rhaenyra shook her head, smirking as she tipped your head up to kiss you once again. "Ajorraelenka."
You straddled her thigh, wrapped your arms around her neck and watched your cunt glide on her porcelain thigh. She flexed it gently, the quick move taking the breath from the base of your throat. Your queen did it again, rougher this time, bouncing her leg while trapping you in her arms, groaning at your scent.
All you felt was Rhaenyra. She hit your center perfectly; with each bump, you threw your head back, clutching the skin of her neck tight, sighing. You hid the loud sounds in Rhaenyra's silver locks, hoping not to alert any of her guards or the ears of the Red Keep.
"Is this not enough, sweet girl?" Rhaenyra said against your skin. She pulled back from your neck to snake her hand down, pushing two fingers inside. "I want to hear all your noises."
Her fingers curled while her thumb tapped your pulse just right, eliciting a louder moan. You cut it off though, burying your face into her chest.
"Toli jaelan," she growled, pushing you back against the bed. She sunk to the edge, pulling off your soaked underwear. "Moan as much as you need."
Just the visual of your queen positioned between your legs had you jolting up towards her. She chuckled lowly, mouth meeting your succulent mound. She wasted no time in lapping at your sweet folds, groaning at the taste while her fingers worked beautifully at your center.
"Rhaenyra!" you moaned, gripping her hair.
Rhaenyra pulled back, your essence coating a string connecting her mouth and your cunt. "There's my sweet girl," she groaned. "Fuck, you tightened up at that. Maybe if I..."
Your queen shifted up, pressing her body against you while one hand fingered you and the other laced around your throat, slightly curling. A gasp broke from you. The heat that pooled in your belly grew tighter at Rhaenyra's rapid succession until...it exploded.
"Fuck," you yelped, cumming all over Rhaenyra's fingers.
Usually Rhaenyra's hands would gather up your face, pampering you in sweet words and caresses after while cleaning you up.
Instead, Rhaenyra lifted your leg slightly to pin it against her hip, driving her own cunt against your own; her own juices mixed in a dangerous sympathy along your own to prompt more noises from the both of you.
"I'll take Tumbleton," she moaned. The sensation of her wetness, the sound of it moving along blurring your vision. You shut your eyes, only for Rhaenyra's hand to squeeze along your throat. "Look your queen in the eye while she's speaking."
You did as you were told: hypnotized by the passions Targaryen's were known for. Rhaenyra's mouth agape, purple eyes scrutinizing every detail of your body; your breasts that flopped with each move of her hips, your pulse that kept just under her fingers. You were at the mercy of Queen Rhaenyra and you adored every moment of it.
"I've been too lenient with my enemies, my subjects," she said, rutting harder against you. "I've forgotten the blood that runs through my veins, I do have six dragons. More than the conquerors before me."
Her fingers slipped against your cunt again, finding you tighten around her fingers again.
"Ah, my sweet girl," Rhaenyra whimpered. "This excites you, doesn't it? A Targaryen fucking you. Your Queen commanding your body as she does her entire realm?"
You nodded, lost in the sensation; her words brought you towards the brink yet again.
"So pliant under me," she purred. "If I were a man, I'd fill you just like this. You'd accept, wouldn't you? The realm would have something to fear then, I'll raise an army of bastards, as many as I want."
The thought got you there, cumming yet again; Rhaenyra gasped at the wetness that squirted across her own mound and tummy. Her movements hadn't let up as her hand moved from your throat and into your hair.
"Answer me," she commanded, tilting your head up. "Would you carry your Queen's babes? Join me and my husband in our quest to rule the entire realm for centuries?"
"Y-Yes!" you moaned. "Yes, your grace!"
Rhaenyra's body tensed up, connoting her release.
She fell atop of you, exhaustion melding well into your body. It gave you time to ruminate on her words; had she really believed her boys to be bastards? You turned over to watch your queen as she rolled off your body to sit on the bed's edge.
The mask was back, albeit, a new one. This one had heavy regality with ridges of self confidence that drained her days after the death of her eldest.
"They would be yours regardless," you said, wrapping your arms around her waist. "They would be loved, just as you loved your other boys. They are yours, no matter what the realm would say."
Rhaenyra leaned in your arms. "Thank you, sweet girl."
Do you think Rhaenyra was really capable of being a good monarch?
Yes, I'm talking about both show and book Rhaenyra btw. I think her mentality was made for peacemaking, not ruling with an iron fist. What ultimately ruined her chances was the fact that there were already people willing to trample over her. Her father was no help either. I also think that's part of the reason people dislike Rhaenyra she is too passive and she didn't really learn her lesson until after losing her eldest son. Even then, she was easily influenced and too trusting of people like Mysaria.
In these ways, she contributed to her own downfall. An average monarch in medieval times would have taken it as a sign to genuinely lock in after losing their father, their daughter, and their second son all in the same week. She wound up being betrayed by her council in the end, and obviously she didn't deserve it, but she was far too dependent upon the people around her.
I've seen people say the writers are trying to make Rhaenyra another Daenerys, but that isn't true, because she can never be Dany. I think the reason GRRM wrote Dany was to show that after so many evolutions of Targaryen rule, we need someone who is actually willing to do what it takes, instead of being comfortable metaphorically lying in wait for their own ruin. I think that's what book Dany is meant to do, while show Dany was completely ruined through sloppy narrative development (which will definitely not happen with Book Daenerys). I don't think she should have burned down King's Landing: that was done purely for shock value, which made it incredibly messy. Instead, Dany should have destroyed the Red Keep in a poetic symbol of power, showing Cersei Lannister exactly what it means to "fuck around and find out" without incinerating thousands of innocent citizens to prove a point. Because of this, show Dany still has my support. We shouldn't be blaming her or looking at her as a tyrant we should be blaming the screenwriters. It is the true definition of "don't hate the player, hate the game," because that disaster could have been completely avoided. She still could have gotten that iconic shot of her walking out of the ash of a destroyed Red Keep, with ignited dragon wings framing her back, delivering a speech about how she would force every house to bend the knee.
That is also what pesters me about other fans, because they keep saying, "Book Dany wouldn't do that." Eventually, she is going to have to do that or she'll be Rhaenyra 2.0. This ties in with my theory of the dragon eating its own tail. It's a matter of death and rebirth almost like the gods saying, "We keep sending House Targaryen gifts, but they don't know how to use them." Fans need to accept the cold, hard truth: the true path to peace is often a bloody one. Saying "Book Dany wouldn't do that" is just a hard cope. Fans must accept that their favorite character will have to become morally gray in order to succeed. That is completely okay because it reflects the real world: an individual can get nowhere without real influence and an unyielding willpower.
