#criston cole x y/n

[vermithorn]

VERMITHORN’S 1K MILESTONE EVENT

CRISTON COLE + OVERSTIMULATION.

cw: nsfw, overstimulation (m!receiving).

note: first time writing for my man, i hope i get the chance to do it again <3 thank you for sending this! i want him fr. please participate on my event!

“Can you give me another?” You say sweetly, wiping the sweat of his forehead with the back of your hand. He looks up at you, breathing hard and his body twitching.

He thinks about it, his brown wide eyes on yours. He doesn’t want to, he’s tired and feel he’s gonna pass out in any minute, but he sees your sweet eyes looking down at him, hovering on his lap while he’s laying on the bed, he cannot say no to you.

“Yes, I can give you another.” He mutters, regretting his words instantly. You smile brightly at him, adjusting yourself on his thigh as your hand goes to his spent cock. His seed is all over his stomach, from coming all over himself over and over again.

Criston sighs, and violently shivers when your hand grabs the base of his cock, twitching slightly at your touch. “Show me your tits, I can get hard again.”

You roll your eyes, one hand on his cock and the other moving the strand of your dress down, your tits overflowing out, Criston gasps at the sight, gulping as you start stroking him.

He indeed gets hard again, fighting pleasure and pain, the skin of his cock raw and red. “Fuck, my lady.” He throws his head back into the pillows.

“You’re so good, this is exactly what I want from you, come on yourself again, for me?”

“Yes, my lady.”

[frost-queen]

The fall of a knight (Reader!Targaryen x Sir Criston Cole)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic  , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve  , @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly   @denkisclown, @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23  , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr  , @swampthing07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms  , @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat   , @rosecentury  ,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn  , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Summary: Reader dislikes Criston from how he acts towards your sister Rhaenyra. Constantly fighting with him and being sassy, till it starts attracting him. Years pass as Criston's attraction for you only grows. You still act the same towards him, not much changed over the years. When another starts flirting with you, it brings a bad jealousy over to Criston, taking you as his even though he can't have you. [R! has purple eyes just like in the books]

It was way too late when you got a sudden idea. The scenery taunting your dreams as it woke you up. Your thirst for knowledge needing to be lessened. Throwing the covers off you, you got out of bed, putting on your slippers. Your heritage of the Targaryen bloodline interesting you so much. Surely since you were the only Targaryen with lavender eyes. You had always wondered how it came.

Slightly opening the door to your chamber, you stuck your head out and peeked around. Seeing if there was anyone in the corridor.  Not being able to wait till morning, you just needed to get to the family library that withheld all of the Targaryen history. Perhaps there you might find answers to your questions. Perhaps there had been another with lavender eyes? Taking your chance, you ran out of your room, running through the corridors.

Sir Criston Cole was standing guard before your sister’s room. Making sure no one would disturb her sleep or come and harm her. Sir Criston furrowed his brows hearing rushed footsteps. Turning his head he saw you ran around the corner fast, making him tilt his head. It took him a few seconds before placing his hand on the top of his sword, coming to run after you. – “Princess!” – he said in a hushed tone to not alarm any others.

Clenching his jaw, he quickened up his pace. Sir Criston caught up with you, grabbing you to a stop. – “What are you doing out of bed?” – he questioned with a scolding voice. You were panting a bit, catching your breath. – “I need…I need to go to the library.” – you told him seeing his face change to anger. – “It’s the middle of the night!” – he shout-whispered to you.

“It can’t wait.” – you replied brushing his hand off you. Sir Criston took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. You crossed your arms, quirking your eyebrow up. – “Shouldn’t you be protecting my sister?” – you asked him. – “You need to be in bed!” – he countered crossing his arms as well.

 “Have you left her unattended?” – quirking your brow even more, just to taunt him. – “No.” – he groaned out. – “I don’t need saving. I’ll be quick.” – you said already turning round to head to the library as Sir Criston kept you in place by holding your wrist. Turning you back to him. – “Bed is where you are heading!” – he made clear, pulling you along with him.

You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, but it was no use. Sir Criston led you back to your room, shoving you inside. – “Don’t get any funny idea’s princess!” – he scolded closing the door before him. You groaned annoyed. You hated that he had seen you. The thirst for knowledge still vivid. Unlike your sister, who was rather carefree, you were not.

You found her ignorant of her surroundings. She couldn’t even name any battle formations right. Rather spend her time with Alicent than prepare herself properly for her future on the iron throne. Kneeling down, you tried to look through the keyhole. You couldn’t see clearly, so you hoped Sir Criston Cole had left to guard your sister’s door once more. Taking the handle in your hand, you slowly opened the door, still crouched down. – “Going somewhere?” – Sir Criston commented, looking over his shoulder down to you.

A smirk on his lips. – “I hate you.” – you breathed out. Sir Criston positioned himself better in your view taking a dramatic bow at you. – “I’ll be here all night.” – he mocked just to taunt you more. Annoyed you shut the door again. He surely wasn’t going to let you pass now with him guarding your door. Pacing around, you hoped perhaps he’d fall asleep. Which was unlikely. The hours past as you felt yourself get exhausted. Eventually falling asleep sitting down, with your head down on the table.

The next day, your sister, Alicent and you were at the white tree. Rhaenyra and Alicent sitting down and gossiping. You sitting at the other end, as far away from them. You lifted your head up from your book, feeling a presence come from behind you. – “Had a good night rest?” – looking up, you saw Sir Criston Cole standing behind you. Making you roll your eyes at him. – “Should you not be watching my sister.” – you let out, focusing on your book once more. – “I am.” – he answered, still looking back at your sister.

“That the book you so desperately needed to read in the middle of the night?” – he teased with a smirk. His comment made you shut your book tight. – “Mockery, how elegant.” – you responded with a sneer while getting up. Giving him a sarcastic smile. Sir Criston Cole gave you a sarcastic smile back. – “Sir Criston!” – Rhaenyra called out to him. He lifted his head up to her, seeing her wave him over. Sir Criston jogged over to your sister to answer her plead. – “Jaos” dog you mumbled under your breath.

Sitting annoyed down, you watched how Rhaenyra wrapped him around her finger. Him doing all her bidding. Having enough, you got up, taking your leave. There was no room for you anyways. The three of them so caught up with each other, they hardly noticed you taking your leave. You made your way around the castle, ending up at the fighting court.

Soldiers practising as you stopped and stared. Observed their movement. Watched it with the upmost attention. Taking notice of their footwork. The way their muscles worked whilst handling the sword. It made you move your own foot to match their stand. Trying to get the right distance between your feet for a steady stand. Sir Criston found his way on the fighting court, seeing you watch the soldiers practise.

He got in motion heading over to you. Pausing briefly he noticed you swiping your feet over the ground setting it in a position. Making him furrow his brows. He then eyed the soldiers, making a link with what you were doing. Sir Criston made his way across towards you.

 “Found you!” – he said coming to be at your side. – “I didn’t need finding.” – you replied stoking some folds off your skirt. – “You left unattended.” – he answered making it clear to you. It made you scoff loud. – “You must’ve gotten an honour for observance.” – you mocked turning your head away from you. Criston grabbed you by your elbow a bit rudely. Turning you back to him.

“You do not leave unattended!” – he made clear, raising his voice a bit. – “Scared I’ll run?” – you replied with a teasing smile. – “Did I make myself clear?” – Criston called out pulling at your arm once more. You stared right back at him with your intriguing lavender eyes.

“Sir Criston, am I royalty?” – you asked him. – “Of course.” – he answered mesmerized by your gaze. – “Then stop bossing me around.” – you made clear giving him a little shove. Walking off, Criston kept staring at you. As you slowly started to attract him. Making him curl up a shy smile.

★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

Sir Criston Cole entered the room, having searched everywhere for you. With a sigh of relief, he was glad to finally have found you. Asleep that was. With your head down on the table, a book underneath it. He approached you, nudging your shoulder to wake you. – “Princess.” – he said. – “Princess… Y/n wake up.” – he started to nudge you harder. – “Wake up Y/n.” – he said a bit louder.

You shot awake, hand shooting out as it him right in his nose. Criston groaned in pain, stumbling back. You got up apologizing. – “Oh sorry I thought you were someone else.” – you said until you could clearly see it was Criston. – “Oh it’s you, well that’s alright than.” – you continued with sass. Criston glared at you for the perhaps deliberate punch to the nose. Stretching out, you got up.

You saw him still cover up his nose, recovering from your little stomp. – “Oh please.” – you called out with a roll of your eyes. – “You hit me in the nose!” – Criston answered loudly. – “You’re a knight.” – you mocked that he should be used to it. Criston glared your way, as your attitude hadn’t changed over the years. – “The tournament, Y/n.” – Criston said changing the subject.

“Right.” – you answered with a sigh. Criston came by your side, walking out with you. – “Aren’t you participating this year Criston?” – you asked not with the intention to be curious. – “Yes.” – he answered. – “Then you’ll get used being hit in the nose.” – you teased with a laugh. Criston laughed mockingly loud to make clear your joke wasn’t even funny.

Getting outside, you let Criston guide you to the box. Rhaenyra already sitting down. – “Criston!” – she called out, waving her handkerchief around. She threw it at him as it fell down in the dirt at his feet. He bend down to pick it up as you left his side, coming to sit by your sister.

When Criston looked back up, he was surprised to see you gone. Looking up at the seats, he saw you sit by your sister. Criston took his leave to prepare. Rhaenyra and you were chatting a bit till the tournament began. You watched several men joist. Not nearly as amusing as you liked it to be.

Then came the one on one combat. There were two men fighting as Sir Criston and another were up next. – “Criston!” – Rhaenyra called out to him. Criston neared the box you sat, looking up as his gaze fixated on you. The other contender joined his side, looking over at you as well. – “Y/n Targaryen!” – he called out making Criston look at him. – “May I receive your blessings? A kiss from you will still my beating heart and give me strength enough to win this tournament for you.” – he said moving his hand out to you.

Rhaenyra tapped your knee enthusiastically at the attention you were getting. Criston clenched his jaw with tension. Clenching his hand into a fist. – “Fairest Targaryen, may I drown in your lavender eyes and hold your tender hands in his. This battle shall be in devotion to you.” – he continued as you stared in shock at him. – “Go on give him a kiss.” – Rhaenyra teased, pushing you to do so.

She practically shoved you out of your seat. Sighing loud, you knew she wouldn’t stop pestering you about it. You got up, making your way down to the edge of the box. Sir Criston staring hard at you, eyes widening at what you were about to do.

You tapped your finger against your cheek to let the knight know what to do. The knight turned his cheek towards you. You grabbed a hold of the frame in front of you, leaning closer to give the knight a kiss on the cheek. Sir Criston staring at it with disgust and jealousy. Rhaenyra cheered loudly from her seat, getting up to clap. You felt a bit foolish as the knight pressed his hand against his cheek.

Your gaze fell upon Criston, seeing how angered he was. Clearly fighting off demons inside of him. A battle you weren’t sure which side would win. A horn got blown as it announced the start of the next battle. You returned to your seat watching the next round. Sir Criston and the other knight you had given a kiss on the cheek.

Sir Criston sniffed loud, looking up to the seating where you sat. Smiling a bit that you dared to taunt him so much with this. With showing affection to anyone. The knight readied himself as Criston drew his sword. He called it out, running up to the man to let out all his anger and jealousy out. He was brutal and hard. Hardly leaving the knight room to breathe.

Rhaenyra stared in shock at him. Criston kept slashing his sword down on the knight’s shield. He lost balance, falling down as Criston got on him. Punching him a few times, making sure to hit the cheek you kissed. Wanting to wipe your sweet lips off him. Criston was a savage, rampaging. He wasn’t going to stop till there was death. – “Criston!” – you shouted loud, seeing that the knight below was barely giving any reaction.

“Enough!” – you made clear wanting him to stop. Criston stopped, his knuckles full with blood as it hovered over the knight’s face. The knight sputtered out some blood as Criston got off him. Claiming his victory. Having enough of this manly show-off, you got up, leaving the seats. Criston cleaned his hand, noticing you take your leave.

Without another thought, he went after you, going away from the tournament. – “Y/n!” – he called out catching up with you. He grabbed you by your shoulder, turning you to him to push you up against a tree. When your back hit the bark, you let out a gasp.

“Don’t do this to me Y/n.” – he spoke keeping his hands on your waist. – “Do what.” – you teased him making him smirk. – “Kiss another man in front of me.” – he replied grabbing you forcefully by your chin. Tilting your head a bit back as he stared firm at your eyes. It made you weak on your knees by the way he was staring hungrily at you. Criston took a step closer to you, nearing you more.

He let his thumb go down your lip, parting your lips by pressing on your under lip. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest as your cheeks flushed with heat. – “Criston…” – you whispered as he tilted your chin aside, kissing your jawline. His touch send a warmth over you like a tidal wave. He went down, kissing you in your neck. 

It made you wrap your arms around him, scratching faintly his back. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted anyways. He wanted you to be his. So he simply claimed you as his even though he wasn’t allowed. Criston’s gaze met up with yours, staring fiercely back at you.

Then he smacked his lips on yours. Kissing you roughly. He immediately felt you kiss him back, diving with him into the intimacy. Criston started kissing you harder, quicker. Panting with each grasp for breath between kisses. For you were his, and his alone.

--------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[mistreatedangel]

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

author’s favorite = ⋆ | smut = ❀ | updated: 02/14/24

𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

— the dance of ghost.

— chocolate covered love.

—

𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

— the dance of ghost.

— the sound of symphonies.

𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧

— misguided love.

𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐞

— daddy dearest ❀

𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

— the inevitable masterlist. 

[gulnarsultan]

⚔

》 Your sworn guards, Ser Harwin Strong and Ser Criston Cole, are yandere for you. 《

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Our Great Glory (Fashioned for Love pt. 2)

Summary: You shouldn’t be gravitating towards each other the way you do, but you cannot help seeing Criston everywhere you go.

Notes: Yay part 2!!! There’s a lot of angst, but I’ve decided to give them a happy ending (even if it might be ooc). Kudos to everyone who has recognized the quote atp!

hmu to be added to a taglist of mine!

Warnings: angst, close and suffocating crowds, aegon is his own warning, so is ser criston

Masterlist | Part 1 | requests are OPEN!

It was dank in the brothel, as it always was after a long night of men coming in and seeking pleasure. You hated the reek of sweet and sex that permeated the walls, making it into your bedroom and impossible for you to escape your profession.

There was always something disgusting or disturbing in each room that you had to clean, and you felt for the whores that had to endure through these things in the first place. All you wanted was to finish your job and then go out in search for a bowl of brown.

Your cleaning was interrupted by the madam standing in the doorway.

“What is it?” you asked.

“There’s people at the door. Go take care of them, I need to look after Janei for a bit, she had a rough night.”

You nodded, leaving your cleaning supplies where they were and wiping your hands on your apron. Quickly, you took the stairs down to the entrance, opening the door.

On the other side stood the prince and-

No. Not him. Not after he had left you behind with nothing but a bag of coin. It had been a message you understood all to well. He’d payed you for your time, you had been his whore.

“How can I help you, my prince?” you asked, ignoring the way your voice cracked.

“Some time last night, we misplaced our… drinking companion. Knowing that he has, in the past, been a patron in this fine establishment, we thought to inquire here as to his whereabouts.” Criston replied instead. His voice was cold, as was his tone and you knew that this wasn’t your Criston, this was Ser Criston Cole.

“If you could describe him.” You asked.

“That is a delicate matter.” Criston said, leaning forward. You could feel his breath on your neck, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could trying to force the memories out of your mind. “We seek Prince Aegon.”

“He is not here.” You replied.

“Has he been here in the past?” Criston asked.

“He does not go to this brothel. It is not… to his tastes.” You said.

Criston nodded, but as Prince Aemond turned to leave, he froze for a moment, staring at you as if he wanted to say something, before he too disappeared amongst the crowds of King’s Landing.

Ignoring the turmoil going on in your mind, you turned back inside, picking your cleaning utensils back up.

***

They stormed the brothel about five hours later. You tried to slip away as men of the City Watch pulled the madam and her whores into the streets, but they caught you by the arm, ushering you out with the rest of the women.

It was madness.

The Street of Silk was packed with people as you had never seen it before, shoving and pulling at each other as the soldiers pushed you through the narrow roads. Soon enough, you realized that they were ushering you towards the giant dome that was the dragonpit.

You’d never been close to the structure, too caught up in your day-to-day life and too uninterested in becoming accidental dragonfeed, but now they were pushing you into the pit.

An older woman stood next to you, her demeanor and stance completely out of place. She walked with the other common folk as if she owned the stones she touched, but you pretended not to notice her nobility.

It was better for you this way.

Instead, you kept your eyes peeled to the ground, even as you entered the dragonpit and the old woman left you. There were too many people, standing shoulder to shoulder. You barely had space to turn your head, let alone move into one direction or another.

Why were you here? What had happened? Had the city been deemed as traitors? You’d barely been more than a child when Prince Daemon had pulled the criminals into the streets, watching with wide eyes as carts of heads, limbs and eyes rolled past.

Was this the same thing? Had they brought you here to burn you all?

The thought turned your stomach. You wanted out, but as the crowd pressed backwards, you felt the air forced out of your lungs.

And then, they all stood still as Prince Aegon walked onto the stage.

The realization washed over you like cold water. King Viserys was dead, and if this was a coronation, war was on the horizon.

You didn’t hear any of the nobles speak, not Queen Alicent, nor the High Septon, nor anyone else as your blood rushed in your ears. Instead, you fixated on Criston, trying to concentrate on him as a way of out more than anything else.

He could see you better than you him, but his eyes hushed over a crowd like those of a watchful dog, his hand never leaving the pommel of his sword.

You knew that if you stood closer to him, you would be able to see the white of his knuckles, his thumb moving over the grip of his sword impatiently.

The dragonpit fell silent as a rumble went through the very foundations of it. Barely, you managed to catch a glimpse of Princess Helaena’s eyes widening, before the dragon broke through the floorboards with a roar.

Immediately, people began pushing towards the exit, trying to get away from the beast. Mere meters away from you, a man thudded against a pillar, before landing on the ground motionless.

You tried to move, tried to escape the masses, but as people pushed around you, you were forced to stand still. There was no choice left but to watch what happened in front of you, staring at the woman atop the dragon, at Criston in her way.

As you felt something grab at your leg, your eyes tore away from the violence in front of you.

A little boy clung to you, his arms wrapped tightly around your shin. He cried in pain as a woman trampled over his leg and you felt something inside you make a decision.

With as much force as you possessed, you elbowed the people around you, before quickly picking up the boy.

“Sit on my shoulders.” You told him, wrapping your hands around his waist. His grip on you was almost strangling, but you tried to ignore that and push through the crowd.

It felt impossible, as if there were more and more people flooding into the dragonpit, but suddenly, you were pushed forward one last time and the pressure let off just a little.

The dragon roared above your head, his claws almost touching the boy on your shoulders. Taking him into your arms, you took the boy and ran, trying to get away from the crowds. Eventually, you managed to find an alleyway that was relatively empty, where you sat the boy down the first time.

“What is your name?” you asked him, still out of breath.

“Gaemon.” The boy said faintly, and you wondered briefly if you had accidentally taken a Targaryen prince with you.

“Who is your mother?”

“Essie.” He answered, and you felt relief fill you. You’d heard that name before. It was whispered as gossip amongst the whores of the Street of Silk. Essie, the woman who had caught Prince Aegon’s eyes more than four years ago. Essie, who had a dornish paramour.

Determined to return the boy to his mother, you took him by the hand and marched towards your brothel.

The madam was already there, tending to a bruise forming on one of the women’s cheeks.

“Essie.” You said, still out of breath. “Where does she work? I think I might have her child.”

Any other day, you would have been more careful with your choice of words. The madam was ambitious, as you knew far too well, but she was tired now, and so was everyone around her.

“She works in the brothel at the corner of the street. The one the woman from Lys owns.” The madam replied, and you nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go find your mother.” You said to the boy, who nodded at you with a small smile on his face.

The sun was already setting when you made for the other brothel, its doors wide open for the first few patrons of the night, and you walked in unnoticed. Turmoil was still in the air, but already, whores were flaunting their figures.

The boy buried his face in your leg, and you picked him up, allowing him to look away as you walked further into the establishment.

“Where’s Essie?” you asked one of the women, and she shook her head.

“She wants to be alone right now.” She answered.

“I have him.” You said, nodding to Gaemon in your arms. The whore stepped around you, looking at the boy’s face, before a smile broke on her face.

“I’ll get her.” She replied, before disappearing in the back of the brothel. Hesitantly, you sat down on one of the plush cushions in the entrance, hoping that no one would disturb you. This place was more upscale than the one you cared for, and no doubt catered to even more perverted men.

You heard the doors burst open before you saw Essie run towards you. Immediately, you stood, looking to Gaemon, who had a bright expression on his face. Convinced, you handed him over to the woman in front of you, who twirled him in her arms, laughing with joy.

The whore who had gotten her from her room gave you a rare smile.

“She thought he was dead, after what happened in the dragonpit.” She said.

“I couldn’t just leave him there.” You shrugged.

Essie turned to you, Gaemon on her hip. “Thank you.” She said sincerely.

“Of course.”

“Take care. And thank you for saving my son again. I cannot repay you, ever. I’ll ask the madam if there’s still a job for you here. You could make as much money as a merchant’s daughter.”

“I’m only a cleaner.” You explained.

“Still, it’ll pay better than at any other place in the Street of Silk.” She promised, giving you a small hug. You nodded, patting Gaemon on the shoulder before you made to leave again.

Exhausted, you dragged yourself back to your brothel, swerving out of the way of the grabby men that were already underhand at this time.

Quietly, you slipped up the stairs and back into your room, closing the door behind you with an exhausted sigh.

You almost let out a scream as you saw the hooded figure across from you, but the man had already crossed the room, hand over your mouth.

You recognized Criston not a second later.

“What the fuck?” you asked when he removed his hand.

“Couldn’t take any risks.”

“Of what? Making your intentions any clearer? I understood your message, you see me as a whore.” You spat.

“Come with me.” He begged.

“What?”

“You said you would.” Criston repeated. You recognized the fear in his eyes as he grabbed you by the shoulders. “War is coming, Rhaenyra will no doubt try to claim the throne and this city will burn!”

“I know. I’m poor, not an idiot.” You said.

“There is a ship in the harbor, it’s leaving in an hour. We’ll be gone before they notice I’m missing.” Criston pleaded.

You swallowed down your fear and nodded.

“Where is it going?” you asked.

“Dorne. I hear they’re always in need of sellswords over there, and sellswords make good money.” He said with a small smile.

“Dorne?” you asked.

“No place is safer from war. I don’t want you to get hurt, and they won’t search for me there.”

“Let me get my things.” You said. Before you could make another step, Criston jerked forward, hugging you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

“You don’t know what I’d do for you.” You replied tiredly, shoving everything you owned into a bag. Essie would have to find another cleaner.

Quietly, you opened the door leading out of the back of the brothel. Criston pulled the hood of his cloak further into his face. It was the same one he had worn as a disguise earlier that day, blending in far better than a white cloak would have.

As you reached a steep step, he went first, holding out his hand. You tried to suppress a laugh at his treatment, taking his hand anyway.

“I am not a lady, you know.” You said.

“You’re mine.” Criston replied. “I can finally say that now.”

“Don’t run away when this doesn’t go to plan, or I’ll gut you like my mother did to my father.” You threatened. He nodded, grabbing your hand in his own and pulling you after him.

The captain of the ship said nothing as Criston returned with you, but as soon as the two of you were on the ship, he removed the ropes and began shouting commands for departure.

You felt the excitement spread from Criston to you. You’d never left King’s Landing, and certainly not for Dorne. You’d never been anything but a servant. This was terrifying, but as he smiled at you, you couldn’t help feel happy as the Red Keep disappeared in the distance.

A few hours into the journey, you still stood at the stern. It felt weird, being free of the stench and sight of King’s Landing for the first time. Instead, it smelled like what you supposed the sea was supposed to smell like.

Criston appeared next to you almost soundlessly.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

“Not much to see. The smell however…” you replied. Criston laughed, and it felt like it was genuine. He’d switched his brown cloak out for a white shirt, his necklace glittering on his chest as always.

When he looked at you, it seemed as if his fears and worries had disappeared from him completely.

“You look three years younger.” You blurted out.

“Are you calling me old?” Criston japed. There was a carelessness about him, now that the city was behind him. You’d seen this part of Criston before, in the cracks that shone through his armor of self-righteousness and strange sense of honor.

An armor that had disappeared with the life you’d left behind. Secretly, you prayed that this wasn’t an act to get you to do something you’d later regret, but he seemed so… happy.

Hours ago, happy was the last word you would have used to describe him, but now it felt right. It felt contagious too.

“Marry me.” You blurted out.

“I thought we’d already established that.” Criston replied.

“You’d have me be Lady Cole?” you asked.

“Not a very important lady I fear.”

“Important to you. That’s what counts, isn’t it?”

Instead of answering you, Criston pulled you in by your waist, pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

“Do you love me?” he asked when you broke apart.

“I love this side of you. I’ve never seen it, and I want more of it.” You replied.

“When we land in Dorne, I’ll buy you whatever house you want.” He promised.

“You’re such a rich boy.” You teased, rolling your eyes lightly.

***

Criston made good on his promise. When you landed in Sunspear, he rented a room in an inn for the two of you, telling you he’d be back soon.

He returned with a key and a victorious smile.

“Have you gone mad?” you asked. Criston shook his head, handing the key over to you.

“The palace guard is searching for a strong swordsman, and there’s a tourney to take place soon.” He said breathlessly. “If we ever use up the money I brought. You won’t believe how cheap everything here is.”

“Knowing you, it probably isn’t much cheaper than in King’s Landing.” You huffed, but you let him infect you with his optimism.

Still, as you stood before what you supposed was your new house, your mouth fell open.

“How? And tell me the truth.” You demanded.

“I stole a necklace from the Queen.” Criston admitted, staring at the floor. “I apologize for the dishonor that stains this house.”

“You forget I was raised in Flea Bottom. I don’t give a fuck.”

Criston gave you a lopsided smile, gesturing for you to unlock the front gate. Carefully, he pushed the wooden door open, closing it behind you as you took in the grandeur.

“This is a manse, not a house.” You laughed, staring at the garden that bloomed around you. Terracotta tiles lined the path in front of you, leading to the house that was apparently yours.

“It’s not furnished yet.” Criston told you, “But we can start buying a few things on the market today. Starting with clothes. We still need to blend in.”

“Yes please. I’m starting to sweat in these.” You replied, gesturing to your clothes.

“I don’t mind you taking them off.” Criston joked. You could see how much he loved this new freedom so clearly it almost broke your heart for the man that had come to you desperate for touch.

“I love you.” You said. “By the Gods, how I’ve longed to say that.”

Criston froze, the hand he still had on your waist feeling almost hot to the touch. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I swear, I shall make it up to you tenfold.”

“You will. Leaving that place saved you.”

“You saved me.” Criston said decidedly. “You gave me love, you ran with me. I’d be happy to die in your arms right now, and no man in this world or another could tell me that what I did was dishonorable.”

You found his hand blindly, holding onto him as he led you to your house. Your new home, your new life. And for the first time in it, you felt the worry about tomorrow disappear.

Criston loved you, and you loved him.

[fieldandfountain]

Mercy

Criston Cole x Reader, ongoing, 1200 word chapter

You are a lady of the far North. Criston Cole deserts his post on the Night’s Watch, and stumbles injured onto your land. You have every obligation to hand him over to justice, but can you really send him to his death?

Takes place several years after episode 10, when the war is coming to a close.

romance, hurt/comfort

You know you were a dutiful wife.

But your husband is gone now, fled to Cregan Stark’s war. After two years, you wonder if he will ever return but you find yourself enjoying your solitary life. You live in a small keep, alone but for your servants and the occasional village girl who visits you for a talk.

Your house was never a great one, and you married a landed knight, a vassal of House Umber, who in turn were sworn to the Starks. You do more work than the great lords ever will, helping with the birthing of lambs, the shearing and the washing of the wool. You spend long hours at your loom, working until the sun sets. You are proud of the work you do, the fine fibers you make, the beautiful woolen cloth you display in your chambers and sell at the market. You love the turn of the sunlight over the snow and the throaty cries of the sheep, though you are lonely, and have been since your wedding day.

The greatest point of interest from the outside world is the passing of men on their way to the Night’s Watch. They come in weary bands, already in their blacks to show that they take no part in the war between Queen Rhaenyra and her half-brother Aegon.

As a northerner, you have great respect for the watch. You know the wildlings will attack your lands first, and you have been lucky to merely lose a few sheep to passing scavengers. It isn’t unknown for a woman to be stolen: it is a point of pride among them to take a girl in her sleep. The men of the Night’s Watch keep you safe from such threats, with their courage and sacrifice.

But still your heart aches for the wretches who stumble along the road. They stare at you hungrily as you sell your wool. Perhaps you are the last woman they will ever see as free men. Volunteers do exist, but they are the minority. Most do not go willingly, but are sent as punishment. There are those who deserve it, murderers and rapers, but it was their lords who decided what crimes were worthy of the wall. Some might be sent for merely raising their hand to a nobleman, or stealing a wheel of cheese. Others are sent on a lie.

And you are aware that many are there merely for being on the wrong side of the war. The Dance of the Dragons, as they call it, has split the Seven Kingdoms down the middle. You have never seen a dragon and you hope you never will.

xxxx

It is nearing sundown, and you have returned from the barn with your lantern, your loyal sheepdog Briar by your side. One of your ewes is pregnant and you feared she would deliver tonight, but all is well. As your feet crunch over the ice you hear a low cry. A sheep must have escaped its pen, and your heart lurches as you see a wash of blood over the snow.

Wolves.

Briar whines, her nose sniffing briskly, and you do not know what madness propels you forward. You creep down the trail of blood toward the thicket, where the falling sun casts shades of vermillion and gold over the pines. You hear panting, and eyes like embers peer at you from shadows of the spruce trees.

“Lady,” calls a voice.

The man is clutching his leg. At first you think he is one of your shepherds, though you cannot decipher which. He does not look like Watt or Alek or Lenn from this distance. You hurry over, pulling off your cloak to wrap around the wounded man but as you near him you panic.

Black.

He is dressed in black. He is sworn to the Night’s Watch and it is a crime punishable by death to leave his post. You have every obligation to ride to the village, to raise the hue and cry, and have him arrested. That is the duty of a true northerner, especially one so entirely dependent on the protection of the Watch. But you see the deep gash in his leg through the tattered breeches, the blood running freely through deep punctures. He has been caught in a bear trap.

“Mercy,” he cries and your heart fails you.

You can turn him in tomorrow. He can’t go anywhere. You set to work, taking a knife from your belt and ripping up your underskirts to form a bandage. Briar darts about him, alternately barking and sniffing. Occasionally you steal a peek at his face.

He is disturbingly beautiful.

You’ve never seen a Dornishman so close, and the rich hue of his skin is a wonder to you, even in the pallor of his agony. His brown eyes speak an eternity, and his parted lips are as though chiseled in stone. Girls would sometimes giggle about the lust of Dornishmen, but he does not appear particularly lustful to you. It irritates you that your heart is beating faster for a deserter, and a wounded one at that, and you steel yourself and continue your work.  

“Mercy,” he whispers again, and he collapses into the snow. His brow is burning to the touch. You must get him warm, get him inside, but you are unsure how.

“Your leg is bandaged, but you must help me. I cannot carry you.” He grunts in understanding. Slowly, you get him to his good leg, but the weight of him is almost unsupportable as you push through the wooded glade.

If anyone saw you, you would be ruined. You are already committing treason for childish pity. Your husband has often chided you for acts of charity or mercy, and you can feel his rage.

He is not here, you remind yourself. You are lady of this keep in his absence.

The servants have departed for the night, thank the Gods, but you they might arrive any time at the manor. You must take him to the bakehouse. It will not be used for several days at least, and you can start a fire without causing alarm.

Night has fallen by the time you have gathered bedding and a fire is crackling in the oven. He just manages to hold the broth you hand him, and drinks greedily. His gaze is bleary and desperate.

“I am (y/n),” you say. You want to tell him he is safe here, but you can’t. You will have to think, decide if you can truly betray the Night’s Watch.

“(Y/n),”says the Dornishman in a weak voice, and you start as he grips your hand. “You have saved me, and I owe you the truth, though I am sure to die for it. My name is Criston Cole.”

It takes you a moment to understand. Criston Cole. The Kingmaker, Commander of the Kingsguard, sworn enemy of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, who your husband is fighting for in the distant land. Sent to the wall for his treason, in an act of spectacular mercy.

And his life is in your hands.  

[itsmeimtheproblemitsme]

Rain of Fire Chap.1~ Criston Cole x Fem!Lannister reader

Prologue Warnings- Violence, smut, angst, angst, and more angst, mentions of death, 18+ Wordcount- 2k+ A laugh escapes your throat at the retelling of one of those very tales when a throat clears behind you. Your hand quickly covers your mouth as you turn on your heel, eyes meeting with Ser Criston Cole. You feel a blush creep over your cheeks, your hand falls to your side and a nervous smile creeps across your mouth. “Hello, Ser Criston," your voice wavers, your brother laughs, coughing and stumbling when he feels your heel hit his shin. Your hands toy nervously with your dress, eyes cast down to the floor. Even though it had been years since you had last seen each other it hadn't seemed like he changed much at all.

"Lady Lannister," he greeted you, a small smile gracing his mouth.

You freeze, unsure of how to continue the conversation, hands clutching your dress so tightly that your knuckles turn white. Criston asks if you are well and your mind takes you back to the last time you met when you had left King's Landing.

A ray of the sun blinded you as your lady-in-waiting pulled back the curtains from the windows. Rolling onto your stomach you clenched your eyes shut, "It is far too early, can I not go back to sleep?"

Shaking her head she grasped your shoulder turning you to face her, "No my lady, do you not recall? Today is the tourney, your Father would be very cross with you if you slept the day away," she turned opening the closet, pulling out several gowns.

"I know Daphne, but I truly do not care what my Father wants. All I wish is a few more hours of rest."

She huffed, laying the dresses on the bed, all different variations of your house colors, crimson and gold. You pondered at the choices, the only difference in the gowns being the patterns. You frowned a strong dislike for always wearing the same colors, with mostly the same patterns. You longed to wear a different color, perhaps a light lavender or forest green, but alas, crimson and gold were the only colors your Father allowed. Closing your eyes you spun in a circle and threw out a finger in the direction of the dresses.

"My Lady?" Daphne questioned, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Is there not a better way to choose a dress?"

"Not when they are almost exactly the same, the only difference being the pattern of course," you said calmly, eyes still firmly shut.

"Well, wouldn't it help to open your eyes and see which dress you have chosen?"

"Yes, I suppose it would, would it not?" you whisper eyes opening and glancing at the dress your finger had landed on.

She placed her hand on your shoulder guiding you to the vanity and beginning to comb through your hair.

"Any style, in particular, you'd like for today, my lady?"

"No, you style it however you'd like," you say your eyes following a bird as it flew across your window.

After readying yourself for the day a sharp knock sounded on your door, calling out it opened revealing your older brother Tyland an absent look on his face as you step forward.

"Is it time for the tourney?" you question him, hands behind your back as you followed him out into the hall.

"Not quite, Father wanted me to assure that you were ready. To not have a repeat of the last tourney."

You send a glare at him, the last time had certainly not been your fault. You had somehow managed to get lost on the way there and had almost been escorted out of the palace if it hadn't been for the help of some stranger. One who you had secretly hoped to meet again. You sighed, you hadn't even caught his name as when you turned to leave he was gone.

Shaking your head you turned to your brother, about to ask him where your Father was when the sound of the crowd reached your ears. You smiled as you took a seat next to your Father, who quickly turned to give you yet another explanation on the etiquette of tourneys, how to sit, greetings, and more.

"Father, you have taught me etiquette so many times, I could write a book on the matter."

He sighed, "I will explain the matters of etiquette to you until you can fully grasp the concept, which you clearly haven't," he snapped looking down at your necklace, you could feel your face heat up as you quickly tucked it into your dress.

Before your Father could continue with his tirade Jason quickly interrupted him, making a snide comment about the knight that had just been knocked from his horse. Your eyes followed along as the second knight tumbled from his horse and drew his sword, slashing the man across his stomach. Falling forward he lifted his sword and brought down the pommel onto the man's skull. You turned away, bile rising in the back of your throat as they announced the victor.

Your head fell to your hands as they dragged the man away, and announced the next contesters. Your ears perked up at the names, Prince Daemon, and a Ser Criston Cole. The latter didn't seem familiar, but perhaps once you saw him, you would recognize him. Hearing Prince Daemon's name on the other hand made you nervous. You had met the Prince exactly one time, and it had left you somewhat terrified. Sitting up in your seat you tried to shake the thought from your head, and instead focus on the two men now racing toward each other. You gasped at seeing Daemon knocked from his horse, his shield knocked from his hand. After which he is dragged along the metal fence, you cover your ears, the screeching of his armor defeating you.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a contest of arms!" the announcer shouts as Daemon grabs hold of his sword.

You watch silently, holding your breath as Cole swings his Morningstar towards him, but Daemon dodges and lands a blow on Cole. They continue exchanging blows to the point Daemon's shield is turned to splinters. Cole sweeps his Morningstar against Daemon's legs knocking him to the dirt, when Daemon suddenly gains the upper hand, knocking Cole to the ground.

He points to the crowd in victory, but a gasp leaves your throat as Cole stands behind him, and swings his Morningstar at him knocking him to the ground. At which point Daemon stabs him in the leg.

"Yield," says Cole wielding his Morningstar in preparation to swing to towards the Prince.

"Yield," he repeats, reaching for Daemon's hand.

Daemon slaps him away and stands.

You watch as he approaches the Princess and asks for her favor. She smiles and turns to grab the laurel, tossing it to him and wishing him luck.

You turn as you feel your Father's hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stand. You stare at him, a look of confusion coming over your face, letting him lead you away. You glance back to the tourney, your eyes meeting with Ser Cole.

*** You sit in your room, contemplating if you should still await your Father, or roam the halls looking for a brief reprieve from him. For he had decided that you would be leaving King's Landing in the coming weeks. You glance out the window, the sun high in the sky to the point it nearly blinds you.

Letting out a sigh you move to your feet and quietly open the door. A strange silence welcomes you as you move through the halls. You noticed that everyone had seemingly disappeared. You quickly move through the courtyard stopping in front of the godswood.

"How strange," you say to yourself, taking a seat by its roots and wringing your hands nervously.

"How strange indeed," a voice interrupts your reverie.

Looking up you meet the eyes of Ser Criston Cole. You quickly stand, averting your eyes.

"Apologies, I, thought I was alone."

He gives you a reassuring smile, "It's alright, my Lady."

You frown, twisting your gown in your hands, as you move to re-enter the palace, but pause, "I'm afraid we haven't been acquainted," a blush spreads across your face as you regard him, "I am Lady Lannister, daughter of Lord Tymond Lannister, and my Mother, the late Late Lady Dyanna Stark. And you are?" You say with a small curtsey.

"My name is Ser Criston Cole," he replies.

You give him a small smile and turn to leave, "I should hope we meet again someday, Ser Criston. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance as well my Lady."

You quicken your pace, your face so warm you feel you could feint as you re-enter the halls of the palace. As you make the journey back to your room, you can't help but get the feeling you had seen Ser Criston before. Your thoughts however are interrupted by your strange surroundings. You look at the walls, various tapestries and portraits hanging along them, and realize that somewhere you had made a grave mistake. You were completely and utterly lost. Letting out a sigh of frustration you decide to turn back from whence you came.

However, retracing your steps made the ordeal of being lost worse. You were now somehow on the outskirts of the palace, being once again questioned by a member of the Kingsguard. You tried explaining to the man that you were simply lost and had no idea how to return to your chambers, but alas he was convinced that you had somehow snuck into the palace.

"And who are you? What business have you here?" he questions you, and it feels as if he's staring straight into your soul.

"As I have told you time and time again, I am the Lady Lannister, daughter of Lord Tymond Lannister! I am simply lost and cannot find my way back to my chambers!"

You flinch as he grabs your arm to drag you into the city when a hand stops him.

"Are you aware of who this is?" a familiar voice asks, forcing your eyes to open.

They are met with the sight of Ser Criston Cole, whose hand is now by your side, hovering over your waist. His warm eyes check you for any sign of injury as he questions the Kingsguard. The guard turns away sheepishly and gestures for you to go back through the gates.

"Are you alright?" he asks as he guides you back to your chambers, eyes full of concern.

You frown, you supposed you were, but the thought of being lost in the city of King's Landing had scared you quite a bit.

"I suppose so," you nod, coming to a stop in front of your door.

Criston pauses as if searching for the words to say before you stop him by placing a kiss on his cheek. You turn away, your face on fire, "That was my thanks for your, assistance, Ser Cole."

You smile, opening the door to your room and sliding in, quietly closing it behind you.

You smile, opening the door to your room when you feel his hand on your arm pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter shut when you notice him leaning in, your lips meeting. His hands grab your waist as you lead him back into your room, the door slamming shut behind you.

His hands find the laces of your gown, quickly undoing them, tossing it to the side, to reveal your bodice which he undoes just as quickly, gently lowering you to the bed. Your back hits the soft quilt as his lips roam your neck and now bare chest. You felt a chill run down your spine as his hands reached your inner thighs his eyes reaching yours asking for permission you nod, breath hitching as he inserts a finger into your entrance, a high-pitched moan leaving your mouth, eyes clenching shut.

You feel a tightness in your stomach as he adds two more fingers, a bright light blinding you as you reach your high screaming his name, your hands clenching the sheets as he places a chaste kiss on your swollen lips. Your face heats up as you feel him lining up against your cunt, a gasp leaving your mouth as he bites and sucks on your throat, sure to leave marks in the morning.

"C-Criston," you stutter, eyes fluttering as he slowly sheaths himself in your warmth. You moan as your legs involuntarily wrap around his waist, nails digging into his back.

You feel a familiar coil tightening as he moves faster, his lips meeting yours as your eyes clench shut once more, as he spills into you. You collapse onto the bed, your breathing ragged as he gently pulls the covers over you. You feel yourself slip into a dreamless sleep as his lips meet your forehead, the door quietly closing in the background.

---

Your mind is returned to the present when you see the concerned look on Criston's face. You shake your head of your reminiscing and give him a courteous smile, excusing yourself.

You quickly make your way into the halls and rub your eyes, willing yourself not to cry. Taking a deep breath you begin to nearly sprint back to your room, tears blurring your vision when you slip bracing yourself to fall face first into the floor.

A fall that never comes, as you feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking back you see Criston's warm eyes now filled with even more concern than when you had fled the throne room. You shove his hand away and attempt to stand, but wince at a sharp pain in your ankle.

"My Lady, it appears you have hurt yourself, allow me to escort you to your chambers," Criston says grasping onto your arm once more.

You shove him away again, voice full of venom, "I do not require your assistance, Ser Cole. I can make it to my chambers of my own accord," you begin, taking exactly three steps before faltering to your knees.

Criston quickly steadies you and wraps an arm around your waist, as you struggle against him, but realize that your attempts to have him leave you be will result in nothing. So you resign yourself to letting him half carry you back to your chambers, your head turned away.

"We have arrived to your chambers my Lady," he says slowly opening the door and walking you through.

Your eyes fall to the the ground as he quietly places you onto the bed, his hands lingering for a small moment before he turns to the door.

"I shall call someone to tend to your injury," he whispers taking a step forward, if it weren't for you grabbing his hand.

"Will you not apologize?" your voice is a hoarse whisper as he turns to face you.

He sighs deeply, "And to what do I owe you an apology for, my Lady?"

You send him a glare and point towards the door, "Out," you snap the tears you held back now running down your face in full force, "Out now."

He turns before you can read his expression, the door slamming shut leaving you to sob into your pillow.

---

Hey! It's me, itsmeimtheproblemitsme, and I just realized I literally left out three or so paragraphs of this chapter somehow. It must've got lost when I was transferring it from google docs. Sorry!!

The second chapter should be posted by the end of the week.

Hello! Thank you for reading this I hope you enjoyed, here is a link to my masterlist if you want to read more like this!

Thank you again so much, and requests are open!

Also, if you'd like to be tagged for this fic, comment and let me know!

Taglist-

[sayafics]

Envious cravings - Part 2

Sorry for the long wait on this chapter!

Unfortunately, this chapter was so long I had to split it into 2 parts, so Part 3 will be up soon, I promise!

That also means Part 2 does not contain smut. However, I promise lots of lovely Criston x OC, Daemon x OC, and smut moments in part 3 ❤️

Part 1

Masterlist

The days had passed by slowly, a treacherous peace imbued in the air of the Keep as the Blacks and the Greens existed in peace.

That did not stop Visenya's mind from racing every passing second, did not stop her from hesitating with every word and every breath - fearful she would say something wrong, do something wrong. Terrified she would anger her uncle, and he would expose her dalliances to all the Court, for them to mock and humiliate her.

She had thought distancing herself from her dearest Knight would help, but it only caused an ache to fester in her heart as she ran into his arms in the shadows of her chambers only days later. She blubbered and whimpered in his safe embrace, unable to speak of the secret Daemon held over them both.

No. If she was to tell him Daemon knew, Criston would wreak havoc - he would go on a rampage and hurt everyone in his path to get to Daemon.

Or perhaps he would leave her all together and choose his white cloak over her love.

No. She did not want such a possibility to be in question.

Criston could not know.

He couldn't.

Visenya spent countless nights praying whilst Criston dozed upon her bare chest. She traced shapes across his back and massaged his scalp as fervent pleas and frenzied whispers passed her lips.

She prayed this would pass and that Daemon would forget. She prayed the Blacks would leave the Keep and return to Dragonstone.

She prayed and prayed and prayed.

It seemed that the Seven had not been as attentive as she'd hoped - for it was only mere days later a rumble of excitement danced through the Keep.

A wedding, her handmaidens spoke.

A Lord from House Lannister, the knights muttered amongst themselves.

Lord Jason Lannister, it was announced in the Small Hall that night, had been offered the hand of a Targaryen Princess at King Viserys' behest.

But Rhaenyra was wed with children, and so was Helaena.

Oh.

Oh.

Dread settled in the pit of Visenya's stomach at the news, her face pale and hands trembling.

From his place behind her seat, standing tall and proud, Criston ground his teeth in a bid to prevent slurs and seething protests from escaping his lips.

Lord Jason Lannister was a hunter and a warrior, a man far too proud and arrogant of his accomplishments and his family name.

A man much too old that had once proposed to Rhaenyra only to be turned away - a man that was ancient in comparison to a Princess as young as Visenya, but of course the rotting corpse of Viserys Targaryen saw no such discourse in such a match, with his child-bride Queen at his side.

Viserys announced that the betrothal was to take place the next day, staring at his daughter with a stubborn smile even as his flesh peeled away. Visenya could only nod as nausea bit at her throat, so quick she had been handed away. So fast she would be sent away.

Tomorrow, he had said.

Tomorrow, and she would no longer see her brothers and sister.

Tomorrow, and she would have to leave her mother.

Tomorrow, and she would no longer be Criston's.

One day, he had said. But it seems he was far too late now.

Visenya had cried herself to sleep that day, tiring herself out after she berated her Shield, after she begged him and pleaded with him, after she pushed him and yelled at him, after she told him to leave and begged him to stay.

Criston was ready to ask her to elope, for them to run away in a manner that he had asked Rhaenyra once. But he knew she would refuse, just as her half-sister did.

Criston had asked Rhaenyra as a saving grace for his shattered vows, to restore his honour and keep the fraying threads of his life together.

Rhaenyra denied him in favour of her riches and her crown.

But Visenya? He would ask her out of love, out of undying devotion and utter adoration.

But Visenya would stay out of loyalty to the Greens, terrified to leave them to be torn and ravaged by the Blacks.

She could not leave Aegon, her dearest twin. Could not leave him to be burdened by a throne he did not want.

She was older than Aegon, but Aegon was a boy - thus, the responsibility of claiming the crown as its rightful heir bypassed her and fell upon her breaking brother's shoulders.

Visenya could not leave him to bear such a weight alone - she was too loving, too kind, too caring. So Criston knew he could not ask such a sacrifice of her, knew she would not be able to bear the distance between herself and her brother. He knew she would not say yes - not to this.

***

"Are you ready, Princess?"

Criston's words were sombre from behind the doors, his throat tight as he waited for a reply.

Visenya stared at her reflection in the mirror - eyes flitting across her dusted cheeks, the rubies that weighed upon her throat like droplets of dragon's blood, the thick and velvety crimson of her gown that seemed to darken in contrast to her pale hair that was let loose down her back with three intricate braids meeting at the back in a poor reflection of a crown.

Her eyes burned at the sight - today would be the day she lost Criston forever. Jason Lannister would be welcomed to the Court with open arms, and use her as a brooding-mare in exchange.

"Princess?"

Still no word. Terrified her voice would break as she called out to her knight, she made her way to the doors instead.

Her hands trembled as she creaked the door open, just enough for Criston to peak inside. His shoulders fell with visible relief at the sight of her, knowing she was alive and breathing, even if she was not happy.

He could not help himself as he marvelled upon the sight of her, eyes roving over her figure as his breath caught in his throat and he heated within his armour.

He coughed harshly, aware of the eyes of the King's Guards beside him as they waited for him to usher the Princess out so they could escort her to the banqueting hall safely - "Princess," he looked crestfallen now, as though the words he was about to say had shattered something within him, "it is time."

Visenya took a shaky breath, nodding softly as her hands came to fidget with her hair - "you look beautiful."

Criston's softened whisper caused tears to well in her eyes, her throat ached as her chest weighed heavy - would this be the last she heard of his sweet words?

Even if Lord Lannister had decided to live in the Keep, which was unlikely in itself, he would not let another man breathe near her - a virgin princess was far too good of an opportunity to lose to another.

A bitter tang tasted upon her tongue, all this hassle and all this hurt simply because she was a virgin.

Visenya looked towards the ground, trying to hide her flaming cheeks from any onlookers as she smiled faintly at Criston's words.

"Come. The Queen is waiting outside the hall for us."

Us.

Oh, how she wishes it was Criston she was to wed tonight. How she wishes it was him her father had said yes to. How she wishes it would be him who fathers her children. Him who brought her desires to life. Him who loved her and cared for her and adored her.

Visenya stayed quiet, unwilling to speak, knowing she would do nothing but break. She simply nodded at the man, her eyes waning with terror as she stepped back from the door so he could push them open further.

Criston could have fallen to his knees at the sight - perhaps he would have, did they not have witnesses as of this moment.

But he knew better - he recalled his vows and prayed fervently to the Seven to help him stay bound to them.

He held out his arm for the Princess to take, guiding her towards her fate with a withering heart and a miserable soul.

***

The Queen dismissed the King's Guards with a scattered wave, walking slowly towards her daughter and Ser Cole - there was a grave look upon her face, as though she was staring into a reflection as she gazed upon her daughter.

Alicent had worn white at her wedding, a symbol of her purity and her intact maidenhead.

Visenya wore red, bathed in blood as though she was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb to a ravenous beast.

Gone was the dragon. In its place remained a girl, so young and so unprepared, she was not sure how to say no anymore. Unsure of how to beg for what she wanted, who she wanted.

Criston could not complain. He had kept quiet just the same - he held a scrap of hope that despite her marriage to the Lord of House Lannister, the King would ensure Criston continued to protect the Princess and stayed at her side.

It was that dwindling ounce of hope that had him bite back his tongue, fearful of saying a word lest it mean he was to remain in the Keep whilst she was shipped away.

Alicent's smile wobbled at the sight of her daughter, so beautiful and so brave, her eyes watering as she cupped her face in her hands - "you look so beautiful, my sweet child."

Visenya leaned into her hold, eyes closing tight to stop tears from leaking down her face. Still she didn't speak a word.

Alicent placed a soft kiss upon her head, and the arm that was wound around Criston's tightened - "come, my dear girl. The King is waiting."

Alicent turned towards the lumbering doors, the post empty as Alicent hoped for a moment of privacy with her daughter - she was not sure why. Perhaps it was to see if she truly wanted this - Alicent was sure she didn't.

But even then, to deny would make no difference as Alicent had lost her power in Court the day Viserys had chosen Rhaenyra over Aemond.

Alicent's hand reached towards the doors to rap her knuckles against it and call to the knights to part them open. Instead, a gasping breath caught her attention.

"Princess!" Criston watched her in alarm - Visenya had only taken a few stumbled steps towards her mother before she had stopped, taking one gasp full of air before another.

A hand came and pounded upon her chest, the first words she had spoken all day came crashing out in an agonised whimper, "I cannot breathe."

Alicent rushed back in a flurry, pulling her daughter from Criston's grasp to hold onto her shoulders firm, "Visenya, you must calm down."

"No, n-... no, cannot breathe. Please, mother."

Her skin flushed red as the tears flowed endlessly - no, she could not do this, she couldn't.

Not when she knew she didn't love the Lannister Lord. Not when she knew the man she did love stood only a mere few inches away.

Alicent was at a loss of what to do, her heart aching at the sight of her child in such a state of fear and panic, "my child. My sweet girl, I need you to breathe. Take slow breaths for me."

Visenya only shook her head vigorously, her breaths coming out fast and shallow as her skin began to blanch under the wobbling lights of the flamed torches that set the Keep alight.

Criston found he could not watch any longer, hands moving on their own accord to gather the girl in his arms and pull her close.

Alicent's hands fell to her side as she watched the scene in confusion, brows furrowing, and her heart sinking as she watched Ser Cole cup her daughter's face in his hands, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

His eyes were soft, they were quiet and warm as they met lavendar hues pooled with dread and misery. Visenya's harsh breaths felt hot against his skin, and he found his eyes flitting between her panicked ones and parted lips with worry.

"Breathe, Visenya."

Her name was a quiet whisper upon his lips, as though he wanted to savour the taste of it upon his tongue, as though he did not want others to hear the precious name and repeat it to undeserving ears.

Visenya trembled in his grasp, her hands leaving her chest as she wound them around his wrists and closed her eyes tight. Her head shook minutely, her breaths now ragged gasps as she lost herself in her tumbling thoughts.

She felt something soft brush against her head, her eyes opening just in time to see Criston press his head against her own as his hands pulled her closer to him.

"Come on, love," he pulled her hands towards his chest, exaggerated breaths leaving him as he looked into her eyes and through her soul, "breathe with me."

Visenya leaned into his presence, trying so hard to copy every breath and every movement. Trying so hard to stop her trembling hands and stand on steady feet.

Alicent watched their kinship with a heart of dread - her daughter was in love with her knight, a realisation which made Alicent fester with guilt, knowing she could not stop Visenya's undeniable future.

The girl would have to marry, and it would be to a Lord not to a Knight.

It would be to Jason Lannister and not Criston.

The minutes ticked by, but Visenya's tears slowly dried as she composed herself. Her hands never left Criston's plated chest, and his hands never slipped away from her twitching grasp.

She pulled herself back to stand taller, her face flushed red from the tears and panic but also from embarrassment. To have broken so quickly and openly, Visenya almost felt ashamed to meet her mother's gaze.

She could hear Alicent's approaching steps, and every whisper in her head became a blaring scream to let Criston go, lest her mother grow angry at the betrayal the knight had committed. But there was an incessant part of her, frail and timid, that could not bear to part from him so soon.

A weightless hand pressed against her cheek, and Visenya's eyes fluttered closed at her mother's voice - relief flushing through her body.

"Come, my child."

The three simple words had Criston relaxing under Visenya's touch, unsure of why the Queen had not acknowledged his closeness to the Princess and punished him, but far too grateful to question such a thing aloud.

It was Criston who stepped away now, eyes falling to the ground in submission to the vows he made that continued to loom over him.

Visenya's hands fell to her sides, fingers twisting in the soft fabric of her gown as she nodded in dissent, a grim smile upon her face.

***

The banquet was flourishing, Courtiers and Lords, Ladies-in-waiting and maids, even the knights were participating in the festivities. All except a sour-faced Shield who stood behind the Queen on guard, watching the Princess grimace as Lord Lannister spun her around the hall in a graceless frenzy.

Criston gritted his teeth at the sight of Lannister's wandering hands and sly whispers, he stood straight as his eyes lay fixed upon the Princess instead of attending to his duties and guarding the Queen from potential harm.

Daemon watched the seething and rageful knight from his place at the table, Rhaenyra at his side with his hand clasped between two of her own and placed upon her swollen belly. Daemon's lips quirked into a shrewd smile as he watched Criston's hands clench into fists when Lannister dipped the Princess low to the ground and shamelessly gazed down the valley of her breasts.

He gave Rhaenyra's hand a light squeeze, pulling his hand from her tightening grip to saunter his way to the Knight. He reached for a goblet, before thinking twice and reaching for another - the good Ser would need a drink, was he to watch his lover be pawed at by a man he envied.

The wedding would take place soon, the dreadful pair would exchange their vows, and their marriage would be sealed in the eyes of the Kingdom. And then, it did not matter how much Ser Cole glared and sputtered, for the Princess would no longer be his to claim.

Daemon could have almost laughed at the idea of a heartbroken Criston wandering through the halls of the Keep, so lonely and miserable.

But there was a part of his mind that blinked back to the night he had caught the pair in the throws of passion, remembers how he touched himself to the sound of her sighs and climaxed at the sight of her pleasure. He remembers her pliant body and her rasped moans.

Daemon had kept the secret to himself, so sure an opportunity would present itself to him where he could wring the sin for all its worth and bathe in the rewards of keeping such a twisted secret.

But following Criston's raging gaze to find the Princess still trapped in the wily arms of an undeserving Lord, Daemon felt a scratch of envy wedge itself in his throat - a bitter and burning sensation that spread through him, causing him to look away and pretend as though he had felt nothing at all.

Criston had not taken her maidenhead, and if she were to wed tonight, it seemed Jason Lannister would stake his claims upon it instead.

Daemon drew close to the man and stood with his back against the wall, taking careful sips from his goblet as he held the spare out to his left.

He tutted when Criston did not acknowledge him, a wretched smirk pulling across his face as he goaded - "one drink shall do you no harm, good Ser. Perhaps then you can stray your gaze from my little niece."

Criston stiffened at his words, shoulders straightening as his glare shifted from Lannister's cooing over the girl to the ground beneath his boots - "I am merely exercising caution, my Prince."

"Ah, of course. A brave knight indeed."

Criston could hear the mocking tone beneath his words, but he held his tongue so careful to draw attention to their conversation.

"Take it."

Criston simply turned to look at Daemon, a blank stare upon his face.

"As your Prince, I believe you are obliged to indulge me."

A mocking grin broke out on Daemon's face as Criston nodded his head with a clenched jaw and snatched the goblet from his outstretched hand, "of course, my Prince."

"Good. Drink your fill, I believe my niece will not be needing your keen attention tonight."

Criston made no move to drink from the goblet, his hands wrapping tight around it as his knuckles blanched at the force.

"After all," Daemon continued, a lecherous lilt to his voice as his eyes swam with amusement, "my darling niece shall no longer be a virgin tonight."

Criston held his tongue still, breaths escaping him in ragged breaths like smoke from a dragon before it roared its burning flames. He threw back the goblet with a mighty force, dismissing Alicent's wary glances that she threw over her shoulder at the unexpected pair.

Criston gritted his teeth, expecting flavoured wine in place of the sour ale that burned in his throat.

Daemon gestured for another drink to be brought, this one stronger than the last and Criston threw it back with an ease that should not be found in a man who had taken such sanctimonious vows - but he had already broke one, what harm would another do?

"Do you think she is excited?" There was a touch of laughter to Daemon's words, crazed by the idea of pushing the Knight further off the edge with every word despite how bitter the words sat upon his tongue, an added fuel to his own envious cravings.

"Do you think she is ravenous?" Daemon couldn't stop his words, couldn't stop pushing and prodding and hurting. "I think the brat would scream, do you not? I think she would be upon her knees begging the Lord Lannister for such-"

His words were cut off as the gobelt was shoved into his chest. He stumbled sideways at the force as a wild laugh escaped him, and his eyes followed the seething form of an unchained beast.

Criston shoved past Lords and Ladies, growled at his fellow knights who approached in question, glared at the Queen who called for him to return to her side.

His eyes were fixed now upon one place, one person.

Visenya. His Visenya. His Princess.

And upon her was a wretched leech, a venomous serpent who was undeserving of holding such an angel in his embrace.

Criston reached for the pommel of his sword, eyes blazing with the fire of a thousan suns as he cast it aside. The clang of the metal against the tiled grounds startled those around him, and their frozen figures and aghast stares were what dragged the attention of his Visenya and that vile beast beside her.

Visenya's brows furrowed in concern, a soft frown upon her lips as she tried to move closer towards him, his name a whisper upon her lips.

Lannister held her by the wrist, his grip so tight it made her whimper, and it made Criston seethe.

Before Lannister had an opportunity to pull the girl behind him and draw his sword out to cut Criston's head from his shoulders, the Knight had launched forward - a powerful blow was thrown against the Lord's face, and ever the hunter and warrior that he was, the old man collapsed to the ground with a painful groan.

Lannister had dropped Visenya's hand, and she paused for a moment where she stood. She wanted to reach out to Criston, to have him hold her and reassure her that this wedding would not go through, but a sea of eyes were upon them and whispers already began to spread.

Criston's eyes met her own, his gaze roiling with unbridled possessiveness and anger - anger that Lannister had touched her, anged that Lannister believed himself worthy of marriage to her, anger that Lannister could touch his princess all he wanted and Criston had to hesitate even in the darkest shadows of the Keep.

Criston searched her eyes, there was a breath that was long and heavy, and Visenya knew what he was searching for - she nodded.

Criston's head snapped back to the Lord, who was stumbling upon his feet as he spewed a littany of curses. Criston bared his teeth, an animalistic snarl escaping him as he lauched after the man once more.

For every blow the Lannister Lord landed, Criston would return with eight more. He disarmed the weakening warrior, and in the midst of a screaming crowd, he pulled the man to the ground and climbed atop him - he railed upon his with relentless blows, uncaring of the witnesses, of the fear because Visenya had said it was okay. Because Visenya had also wanted this.

Vinsenya watched her dear and daring knight beat the man half to death with morbid fascination - she felt as though she should be terrified, felt that she should be sickly and horrified.

But something twisted with her gut, something that had her cheeks flush as she pressed her thighs together when a familiar heat spread between her legs.

There was something arousing about his brutality, something tantalising and tempting about his possessive nature and undying fidelity.

Even as the crowd grew rowdy around her, she found she could not make her eyes leave the sight of her raging, angered knight. Of her Criston.

It was not until a hand wrapped around her forearm that she snapped out of her sinful fantasies, breath catching in her throat to meet the narrowed eyes of an amused Daemon.

He tugged the girl closer until her chest was pressed against his own, and he leaned in close, his breath hot against her cheeks, which flushed a heavy crimson - "I have to say, I did not think of him able to go this far. But, dare I say, little niece - you look ravishing. I can see why your loyal dog would risk his life to keep you to himself."

She swallowed roughly, thinking of what to say to deny his claims despite knowing Daemon had seen Criston pleasure her from his place within the walls. But then her heart stuttered to a pause, 'risk his life.'

That was what Daemon had said.

But, what did he mean by such a thing.

It was as though Daemon could see the confusion painted across her face, and he tutted with a pitying smile. Daemon's hand found her face, squeezing her cheeks roughly as she winced. He brushed her lower lip, biting his own at the sight of the reddened flesh before blinking himself free of his desires.

He twisted her head roughly, his grip unrelenting even at her startled gasp and dreadful cry - "no!"

Daemon wound his arm around her waist, anchoring her back against his chest as he freed her aching cheeks from his grasp.

Visenya watched in horror as the King's Guards tore Criston off the Lannister Lord, Otto Hightower yelling commands to have the knight taken to his chambers, to be confined within them until the time was right to call for a hearing.

He would be sentenced for such an attack - House Lannister would ensure it.

Would his title be stripped from him? Would he be sent back to the empty lands he came from? Or would he be sentenced to death?

Her heart sunk at the thought, eyes burning with tears as she saw the raging man meet her gaze with no ounce of regret and an endless river of love and promise.

Behind her, Daemon tightened his grip around the girl, a quiet shushing that calmed her despite her best efforts to ignore it.

Daemon turned the girl to face him, drawing her closer as she hid her face in his chest and allowed her fearful whimpers to escape freely. Her hands were twisted into the fabric of his fine tunic, just as his hands were tightened around her waist.

Rhaenyra watched the pair with a haze of confusion and anger, unwilling to lower her gaze even when Daemon had searched to find her still upon her seat at the table with a hand resting atop her swollen belly. But with a whimpering girl in his arms, holding onto him despite being so fearful of him, Daemon found he did not care for his wife's furious gaze.

One thing was for certain now, Daemon would not allow his darling niece to wed the House of the Lions. She was a drgaon, through and through - she would not submit to anyone but her own kind, Daemon would ensure it.

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[lxdyred]

Among snakes I shall dance

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Next chapter

Summary: Rhaenyra's firstborn finds herself surrounded by the greens and, to her misfortune, betrothed to one of them. So she begins to plan how to take them down, one by one, from the inside.

Word count: 2.8K

Warning: Allusions to incestuous relationship (it's HOTD, come on!), use of obscene language (c-word used somewhere), some characters might be a bit out of character. And this is my fist time writing about GOT universe, so yeah :)

Tag list: Open!

Feedback is really appreciated! ❤️

"Do you want to execute the princess, the only daughter of Rhaenyra?" the queen asked incredulously, after standing up.

"Your Grace." The Master of Ships, Tyland Lannister spoke. "You must know that to leave her, her mother and bastard brothers and alive would be to jeopardise the integrity of yours son's reign."

"Let us not forget about Daemon either, I stress again." Otto dropped, running a hand through his beard.

"I will not allow you to execute the princess." Spoke firmly and sternly, Alicient. "Viserys loved his granddaughter in a very special way. I will not allow you to proceed with this absurd idea when my husband's corpse is not even cold yet. I will not let you sully his memory in this way. And whoever does so will be sent to the wall."

"You propose to let her go, my queen?" the Hand of the King asked, one eyebrow arched at his daughter. "Need I remind you that she is her mother's heiress? And that she, in turn, is just as dangerous? Any pretender to the throne can be a threat to your son."

"I propose something, an alternative that might work." Tyland Lannister spoke. "What if you marry her off to someone loyal to Aegon?" he proposed as he swept his gaze over everyone present.

"That would be a good alternative. The young princess is Targaryen and Velaryon, pure Valyrian blood unlike her brothers, she is the only one who resembles somehow to her late father, Ser Leanor. To betroth her to someone we trusts would do well." Grand Maester Orwyle commented with a nod, it seemed to be a great idea. "An advantageous marriage might prevent bloodshed, might even make her mother swear fealty to Aegon and bring them to kneel.”

"To whom would you offer the Red Mermaid’s hand, Grand Maertre?" Alicent asked once she stopped to think about the idea.

"You could betroth her to Lord Strong. Ser Larys is loyal to you, My Queen. To Aegon."

"I could betroth the princess." Tyland replied, a small smile plastered on his face. They all looked at him.

"That is a good offer, Ser Tyland, but I think Prince Aemond would be suitable." The smile that had been on the Lannister's face moments before was wiped away at those words. "He would know how to tame the young princess, who to our misfortune is as wild as her brothers and mother." Otto added the last with venom, who glanced at his daughter who was thinking about the whole situation.

"We would start, moreover, with the advantage that both of them were close in childhood." Orwyle spoke. "I propose, if we all agree, that the ceremony take place as soon as possible."

Alicent nodded. "We shall marry them right after Aegon's ceremony. By nightfall."

"It would also be advisable to have the princess present at the coronation. It would give a message of unity, so anyone loyal to Rhaenyra would think twice."

"Let there be no more talk. After Aegon's coronation, Prince Aemond and the Princess will be wed tomorrow before the day ends."

Once the green council had settled all the matters they had to deal with to carry out their plan, the queen, along with the company of Ser Criston Cole, went in search of the princess to let her know what would become of her. How before nightfall of the next day she would be married to her uncle, who in what seems to have been a past life, was a friend of hers.

"My queen." Said the young princess once she saw Alicent in front of her, bowing after addressing her. "I suppose you have come to give me the terrible news that my beloved grandsire has passed away." Spoke the silver-haired young woman with a soft tone.

"That is not the only reason I am here, my dear." The Hightower woman spoke as she approached her granddaughter-in-law with a sad smile.

The Queen looked at the you woman. She could clearly see that she had been weeping for hours over the pass of Viserys, who had been so important to her. Even though she had not been able to see her grandsire for the past six years, the two had been corresponding by letters weekly, which had made the bond between grandsire and granddaughter very close.

"I am so sorry for your loss." Spoke the young woman who stood by the window of her room, which overlooked the inner courtyard of the castle. She knew things were wrong when she saw the behaviour of the people in the castle different, as if they were following a protocol. Well, let's just say that Ser Criston Cole locking her in her room and the guards taking anyone who worked in the castle to the dungeons - where she supposed they were sent - were two other big signs.

"I too am sorry for your loss, sweet child." The queen murmured as she took the young woman’s hands for her attention. "There is something I must inform you of."

"What is it?" the young one looked at the Queen, once her mother's best friend and now her grandmother by marriage to Viserys.

"Viserys… before he passed away, he told me one thing." The brown-haired woman began to explain to the silver-haired. "He told me that his dying wish is that your uncle, Aegon, should succeed him as king."

The young princess shook her head in confusion. "Pardon me?" she asked with a frown, still showing signs of confusion. "It makes no sense at all. He made my mother his heir." Said the young woman turning away. "He wanted my mother to rule the kingdoms."

"It's true. He told me, he changed his mind, it was his dying wish. For your uncle to be the new king."

"Is that what you had to tell me, dear Grandmother?" The young woman asked as she folded her arms, still frowning, but this time she did not show confusion, if not displeasure. "Is that why I have been locked up all day? To keep me from running away? Or perhaps, to keep me prisoner and use me to your advantage and make my mother bow the knee to your son?" The young woman exclaimed in anger. "I will not allow my mother to kneel."

"They wanted to execute you." Alicent spoke calmly, resting her hand on her granddaughter’s cheek. "I have prevented it. But to avoid a war, we have made a decision, of which I have come to tell you."

The young Velaryon laughed cynically. "To keep me prisoner, I assume." She took a step back.

"Of course not."

"You are telling me I can go back to my mother, to Dragonstone? Or back to Driftmark where I am supposed to go with my Grandmother?" The young woman looked around and sighed. "Where is my grandmother? Princess Rhaenys. Do you have her locked up too? Or have you executed her already?"

"She is well. In her room, making a decision."

"I see." The young woman dropped into the chair next to the window. "Seven hells." She dropped her head into her hands. "So... can I go now? I mean, if I am not a prisoner, I would like to leave as soon as possible." She looked up and looked at the queen, who was staring out the window, in silence.

Alicent continued to stare out the window, until she turned silently, with a serious countenance, then broke the silence. "You're getting married. Tomorrow night, after Aegon's coronation."

Like her mother in her day, the young woman did not want to get married. She wanted to live her life freely, free of responsibilities and heavy burdens. In a way, because she knew she was not made to be a pretender to the Iron Throne, which had given her so many headaches throughout her life. She knew that her younger brother, Jace, would be a better candidate when the time came. That was why, the day before, after what had happened in the throne room with Veamond Velaryon, she knew she must speak to her mother before she went home.

"Mother, may I have a word with you, please?" The firstborn said to her mother, who was with Daemon, preparing to leave the red keep. They both looked at their daughter.

"I will leave you two alone." Said the Prince, preparing to give both women space.

"That's not necessary, Father." Daemon was not her father, but since Leanor's passing, he had taken it upon himself to play that role, protecting and thus teaching the young woman everything he knew of the world, from High Valyrian to how to fight with a sword. "I would like you to stay. Please."

"What's wrong, dear?" Rhaenyra said, approaching her daughter in fear that something bad had happened. "She took her daughter’s face, and could see sadness and uncertainty in her expression.

Daemon approached her as well, and placed a hand on her shoulder, a sign of support and encouragement for her to speak. "If someone has done or said something to you, tell me who it is and I will kill them. No hesitation, you know that.”

"Nothing bad has happened, everything is fine, really, father." she said with a small smile at her father's overprotective reaction. "I wanted to let you know before you leave…my intentions."

"Your intentions about what, my daughter?"

"I do not desire the Iron Throne, mother. I do not wish to be your heir." The young woman spat quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint the person she loved most in the world. "Jace would be a better king. He should be your heir. I wanted to tell you, but... I didn't want to disappoint either of you. I- I'm sorry, mother. I'm not up to it." The young Velaryon girl burst into tears.

"You could never let us down, sweetheart. Never, do you hear me?" Rhaenyra hugged her daughter tightly. Daemon smiled briefly at her and stroked her long silver hair.

Alicent's words really did hit her like a bucket of cold water. "Of course I am not getting wed!" The girl exclaimed. "No."

"If for the sake of your family, you want to avoid a war and getting them all killed, that's what you have to do," Alicent spoke calmly, with a tone that sent shivers down her spine.

This could not be happening.

Fuck it all.

Fuck the greens and their manipulations.

Fuck Alicent Hightower and the snake she had for a father.

"And who is the highest bidder to whom you have sold me, my queen?" the Velaryon said the last with mockery. "Ser Larys Strong? Or perhaps Ser Tyland Lannister?"

"Aemond, of course. Your dear uncle."

"I-no... He's-"

"Ser Criston." Called the Queen to the new Commander of the Kingsguard, who until then had been on the other side of the door to the princess's chambers, waiting for Alicent.

"My Queen." Said the knight once he entered the room. He looked at the princess and gave a small bow with his head. "Princess."

"Ser Criston, escort the princess for a little stroll to the gardens. She's been cooped up here all day, I'm sure some fresh air will do her good."

"As you commanded, my Queen."

Great, we're going on a small trip with Cole. Sounds like fun.

Spoiler. No.

A few moments later, when the Queen had left the place, together with the Commander's company, the young Velaryon woman went for a walk, in silence, to the Red Keep’s gardens.

It was strange to be walking in the Keep at this hour. It was almost dark, everything was dark, there was hardly anyone in the there, only guards and a few servants going to their rooms. There was not as much light as she remembered from when she was younger, except for a few torches and candles.

No doubt, the Red Keep had changed, it was not the place she loved to be in her childhood. Now it was just a dreary, cold place, a memory. A shell of its former self.

"Enjoying the walk, niece?" A voice interrupted them.

"Uncle." The girl whispered as she saw her uncle leaning against a brick pillar.

"I suppose you have been informed of the great news by now, hm?" The young Prince took a sip from the cup in his hand.

"Yes." She said in a dry tone, as she watched his every move.

"It will not be so bad, do you think?" The silver-haired Prince arched an eyebrow, before taking a final sip from his cup and setting it down.

She watched as the cup fell to the ground and the noise it made when it made contact with it. The noise echoed down the hallway.

In a way, that was how she felt. As if she was falling and was about to make an impact with something that was going to end her.

She didn't know at what point he had approached, but now he was standing in front of her, a smirk plastered on his face. "Don't you think it is funny?" He asked her, she watched him. She noticed his features slightly illuminated under the torches. His eyepatch was what caught her attention the most. She thought about the sapphire that was underneath. "By this time tomorrow we will be married. We will be one before the gods." She looked at his only eye, his blue gaze attracted her, much to her dismay.

"Delightful." She snapped wryly.

"Don't take it like that, princess. We will have a good time, just like when we were kids."

Something about him was attracting her. She didn't know what it was exactly, but it was electrifying. She looked closely at his long, seemingly silky hair, his high cheekbones, his perfect nose. His lips. Those lips, which were quirked into a mocking smile.

"I would rather jump from the highest tower of the Keep, my Prince." That was what came from between the lips of the young woman, who feigned sweetness.

"Seven hells. You really feel like it, hm?" Aemond said as he took the young woman's chin and lifted her face, so that she would look at him. "It is alright. I am dying for it too." He whispered teasingly before placing a kiss on the young woman's forehead, as if this was a game. "Ser Criston."

"Yes, my prince?"

"Please take my betrothed back to her chambers. She must rest for tomorrow." The young Prince ordered.

"As you command." Replied the brown-haired knight at the young man's command.

"Good night, my dear. We have an exciting day ahead of us tomorrow."

That was when she made up her mind to send it all to hell.

If she was going to be surrounded by Snakes from now on, unable to be with her family, she was going to do everything she could to destroy them from the inside. Or at least try and enjoy the process.

After all, she was her mother's daughter. She wouldn't let them finish her off so easily.

"Fuck all of this, fuck this place. Fuck all of them." She whispered.

The commander heard her. "You could have your tongue cut out for saying that." Criston told her, as she was escorted on her way to her room.

"Would you do it yourself, Ser Criston?" The girl gave the knight a fleeting glance.

"If I were ordered to." He replied.

"Surely you would enjoy it, would not you?"

The commander frowned and gave the young woman a look full of anger and displeasure.

"This can stay between us, Commander. It could be our secret, one more we would have." The young woman paused as she almost reached the door to her quarters. "I know you loathe my mother, that you resent her and that if it were up to you she would be dead. I also know that you think the same of me. That I am a savage and perhaps a spoiled cunt, worthy daughter of my mother? Perhaps?"

"You should go inside your room, princess. You must rest."

"Yes, don't worry. But first I want to tell you one thing. As I have already told you, all this may be our secret." The Velaryon woman spoke as she finished heading to the door of her quarters, once she reached the door she looked at the knight. "Well. As I was saying, I know you hate my mother, and I also know why, because she supposedly made you break your vows, the ones you took when you entered the kingsguard, am I wrong?"

Cole took a breath, thus trying to control the anger he was beginning to feel at hearing the young woman's words. His knuckles were white now. “What are you trying to say?”

"You see I am also my father's worthy daughter. For that I think you should be glad, don't you think? After all, not many Commanders of the Kingsguard have a daughter who is a princess." The young woman opened the door to her room. "I'm going to get some rest now. Good night, Commander. Oh! My mistake - should I address you as father from now on?"

No doubt she was going to do her best to destroy them from the inside. One by one, if that wasn't too ambitious of her.

Anyway, she was going to try to enjoy the process.

Even if it ended with her.

[legitalicat]

Keeping Up With the Targaryens (social media AU) - Series Masterlist

AN: This is in collaboration with Lana ( @zaldritzosrose ) (and of course special shout outs to @lady-phasma @anjelicawrites and @alexagirlie) and we are so so excited! All posts related to this universe will be tagged in this Masterlist for y'all to easily browse! I hope you like it!! As always pairings and TW will be updated as the series progresses. Dividers used on this Masterlist and any future posts I make for this are done by Lana. header is also done by her :)

Summary: Inspired by Keeping Up With the Kardashians, a look into the insane lives of Westeros' most elite family. It all started years ago, when Rhaenyra Targaryen and Criston Cole were young and in love. Their actions changed the course for this family forever, good or bad. Now the world belongs to Rhaenyra, and the rest are just living in it.

Characters Featured: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Criston Cole, Otto Hightower, Viserys Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Jacaerys Velaryon, Harwin Strong, Lucerys Velaryon, Daemon Targaryen, Laena Velaryon, Sara Snow, Helaena Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen ii, Aemond Targaryen, YN/Reader insert, Daeron Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon

TW: Obvious but unconfirmed relationship, reality TV, Alicent will be great in this (minus one really bad incident), Otto Hightower is not shitty in this, will have time jumps, cursing, suggestive language, Viserys Targaryen (I feel like he should always be his own TW), men simping for their women

GEN 1 Pairings: PAST Rhaenyra Targaryen x Criston Cole, Laena Velaryon x Daemon Targaryen, Alicent Hightower x Viserys Targaryen, platonic spouses Rhaenyra Targaryen x Laenor Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Harwin Strong

GEN 2 Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Snow, Aegon Targaryen x YN,

Meet the Family (Gen 1) (Lana)

Meet the Family (Gen 2) (Lana)

Intro 1 Intro 2

Rhaenyra Through the Years

Alicent Through the Years 1, Alicent 2 (Lana)

Laena Through the Years, Laena 2 (Lana)

Age list!!

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Episode 6

Episode 7

Episode 8

Episode 9

Episode 10

Episode 11

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Masterlist

House of the dragon Masterlist

High Life Masterlist

Avatar Masterlist

[ethereallocs]

Eyes On Me Pt 2.-Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, angst, swearing, degradation, domestic violence and smut.

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

It had been weeks since Ser Criston had, made love to you that night. He found himself longing for you as he stood just outside your door. You weren’t overindulging and knew that this affair couldn’t be something anyone could ever catch onto…ever. You would leave your chambers grazing your fingers past his just slightly so he knew that your affections were still burning for him. Luckily it seemed your husband, Aegon had occupied himself with another mistress and he was often gone and you were glad of it.

You were sitting under the Godswood reading a book. Peeking over the pages every now and then to watch him. His back turned, but even then he could feel your gaze burning into him. He slightly turned his head to see you out the side of his eye and he smiled just enough for you to see before he turned away. Oh Gods. This was torture you thought. In your frustration you got up and quickly walked off. Hurriedly he followed wondering what he did wrong.

Hitting sharp corners almost losing him he grabbed your arm pulling you into a secluded area. Barely any light within this hall as it was never used. Looking into your eyes his hardened gaze softened. “What is the matter, Princess?” You scoffed in disbelief. “How long has it been since the last time you visited me in my chambers, Ser Cole?” You spoke in a hushed yet irritated tone.

He to was frustrated, but he would not risk your life for his own pleasure. “Do you really think I don’t want to be with you, Y/N? I’ve thought of you before that night and I think of you still. But, I cannot let my feelings ruin your life.” The cool touch from his armored hand rubbed you flushed cheek. You nestled into his touch, looking into those golden eyes that pierced through your very soul. Without warning he pressed his lips against yours hungrily as if he could devour you. You moaned into his mouth, pulling him into you.

“I need you always, I want you always. You are all I think about day and night. Your in my dreams. My heart calls your name.” He whispered intensely in your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh. You whimpered quietly trying keep your voice at bay. He hiked up your skirts gripping your plump ass groaning at how it felt in his hand.

He knew you only had just a few moments, but he needed you desperately. He could keep lying to himself trying to preserve his honor and yours. But, such a sun as this was too good to stop. He turned your back to him loosening his breeches and lifting your skirts realizing you had on no undergarments. Grabbing your throat he groaned into your ear. “What a slutty little deviant you are..” You tremble feeling his already hardened cock rubbing against your soaking slit. You pushed into him begging him to fill you and he obliged.

“Fuck…yesss.” He hissed at how good you held him inside you. Your warmth pulling him in. His hand held onto your hip pushing an arch into your lower back as he hurriedly pounded into you. The soft and quick sounds of his hips snapping against your ass filled the dimmed hall along with your delicious moans. He cooed in delight only to cover you mouth and pull you further into the darkness when the sounds of servants chattering caught his attention.

Even still he continued his assault on that soaking wet cunny of yours. You were in pure ecstasy trembling with each thrust. The way his cock stretched your cunt, the way he quieted you with him being the reason you were so vocal only made you want it more. Soon his strokes quickened as he felt his seed ready to spill and you on the edge of your orgasm. “Yes, give it to me, Princess…give it to me.” He beckoned and you unraveled, your cunt drenching his cock and his breeches and in turn he coated your walls with his seed. Today was not a safe day, but you could careless.

He kissed you passionately pulling away to let you fix your clothes back. You sighed knowing this wouldn’t happen for quite sometime again. He smiled letting you walk out first so no one suspected anything and he followed shortly after. You took the rest of the night in your room exhausted from such exertions.

Morning has came and you awoke with a smile, but something in the back of your mind told you to pull back your sheets and there they were clean sheets. You tried not to panic, but you were trying to breath quickly calling for him. He entered your room wondering if you were alright. Clearly seeing the pink faded from your face he pulled you toward him. “My Princess, what is going on?” You looked to him with tears in your eyes. “I haven’t bled. I think I might be with child..”

His eyes frantic trying to think of a solution and just when you were beginning to panic and hushed you with a kiss. “I have a plan..I need to speak with the Queen. I will return to you shortly.” His kiss calmed you and you watched him walk away. You locked yourself away in your room pacing back and forth until you heard a knock on the door. “Come in..” you called out and it was Queen Alicent.

She usually looked so cold, but looking at you now she seemed so warm; motherly. She grabbed your hands and pulled you in. “I’ve heard of what ails you my child. I know of my sons treatment towards you. And I wish you no more harm. I can get the maesters to make you a tea if you wish to stay or I can get the king to send you away and nullify this marriage so you may be free.” You hugged her tears welling in your eyes. You broke down in her arms thinking you would be condemned by her, but she understood.

“Ser Criston, said he would denounce his knighthood. I can get you on a boat to Dorne in a weeks time. The Targaryens have a friends there of course. And a house that will keep you.” You were in shock. “Why are you helping me? Your family despises mine.” She sighed seeing your mothers face in yours. “I should’ve never let your grandsire seal your fate like this. You’ve always been a sweet and honest girl, Y/N. You do not deserve the cruelty my son bestows upon you.”

“I will write my friends in Dorne so they will know to expect me and I will write my mother so she knows where I am.” She nodded to you and kissed your forehead before she took her leave. Shortly after Ser Criston came inside and the two of you worked on your plan. The days had dragged on and the week couldn’t pass by quick enough.

Everything so far had gone smoothly, with Aegon gone and you being one of Viserys’s favorites he ended the marriage without question. Finally, it was your last day in King’s Landing the boat waiting for you with all your things on board. You were giddy and excited, but a dark cloud would find its way to ruin it for you somehow. Night fell and you were dressed and ready to sneak off into the the night when Aegon barged in grabbing your wrists, slapping you across the face harshly.

“My dear… sweet…wife…you’re leaving me?” He said mockingly. He was seething and red with anger grabbing your chin squeezing his fingers into your cheeks. You cried out struggling. “I..I am no longer your wife, Aegon. Get off of me I need to go.” He laughed his free hand running down the bodice of your dress. “Oh no..not before I give you a parting gift, my love.

“No! No!!” You screaming finally mustering up the courage to fight him off you kneed him in the crotch and ran off through the secret passage way behind the painting in your room. You ran and did not look back scared to see him right behind you if you did. It seemed like the darkness continued forever until you saw the wooden door that led to the outside world.

Opening the door you saw Criston waiting for you he turned back smiling knowing it was you, but it quickly faded seeing your face stained with tears. Before he could speak you warned him. “We need to go..Aegon knows I’m leaving..he attacked me and tried to…I hurt him…” He nodded grabbing your hand lacing his fingers into yours. The two of you hidden beneath your hooded cloaks. He avoided all of the Knight’s watch knowing exactly where they were assigned.

You heard them whispering trying to find your where abouts, but soon you were home free seeing the great boat that was to take you to freedom. He looked back at you with a smile and you were glowing with excitement. The crew was now on their course and you were on deck watching your prison slowly fading away into the distance.

Criston wrapped his arms around you, the lack of armor was a bit strange for the both of you, but it felt good to be free of it all. “I’m going to make you so happy, my Princess. I’m still your sworn protector come what may. After you have our child we will travel all corners of the realm just us.” You turned to face him cupping his face in your soft hands kissing him sweetly.

The two of you were off to your happiness or you would hope for it at least. There was a dragon biding his time waiting to strike…

To be continued…

I hope you enjoyed reading let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next part.

[omgkatherine01]

The Sun in the Dragon House - Masterlist

Left to die out in the cold forest of King's Landing, a baby girl only a few days old, was rescued and taken in by Criston Cole, a knight of Queen Alicent. Her name was now Vera Cole. She was now Criston's daughter. Growing up, she was raised along side the Targaryen princes.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader & Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader & Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

Prologue Chapter 15

Chapter 1 Chapter 16

Chapter 2 Chapter 17

Chapter 3 Chapter 18 Coming soon

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

[mistreatedangel]

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

❝ a collection of random shows and movies i love to write for. nothing wrong with a little imagination. enjoy my loves. ❞

enjoy the show babes.

— 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐓

[gulnarsultan]

Yandere Criston Cole watches you with admiration.

[yearninginpages]

Aemond is finally home. He’s home to you. He ran to your chambers as soon he could, knowing the vile rumors he heard were just that, rumors. He had no doubt you’d choose him first, because the Gods know, that man would die for you, there’s nothing about you he could ever forget. You were everything to him. Even in the situation where there were rumors your half brother Jacaerys Velaryon would ask his mother for your hand to strengthen the name of the Blacks, it was indubitable that your loyalties lie with Prince Aemond Targaryen.

When you see him, the way your eyes light up remind him just how weak you make him. He slips into your touch, that warm hand that meets his cheek lovingly, eager to remove the eyepatch that covered his biggest insecurity and kiss the trace of his scar. No walls between you, he let them all down. You’re a fierce woman, who doesn’t bend or break for anything or anyone, and Aemond loves you incessantly for it. He loves that you care, and choose him because you want to, because you took the time to give his growing affections he’d shown you since you were children bloom with your kindness.

“You fought for me on multiple occasions, now it’s time I fight for you, my sweet girl.” His eye lingered on your lips, fingers tracing your lips as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you he could trace. He took his time to do so but he kissed your lips, making you feel like you would fight a thousand wars for him, defy your half brothers time and time again, go against your reckless father, and make your grandfather go insane, just to burn by Aemond’s side.

first fic idea ! ! ! Aemond x Daemyra’s Older Daughter(pre Strong Kids)! Reader.