Note: Do you guys know just how much 174 is??? Wow. The last poll I did barely had 8 votes. I just want to disclaim that I think people thought sharing in a more NSFW way, and that's not really what I write, so I'm sorry in advance. I will try to give what you want, but don't do in this wanting the most explicite of Smut ever, you might be disappointed...
Warning: Mention of character’s death, mention of depression, mention of polyamory (not polygamy), weird dragon shit. No use of (Y|N), G!N Reader.
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In my headcanon, the only option that makes sense for Rhaenyra and Daemon to share a lover would either be because they had the same preference for a same member of the close relation Rhaenyra had as a child (friend or guard, you know the drill). Or Rhaenyra has taken Laenor’s lover as her own after Laenor’s death and Daemon follow suit because of some weird dragon shit that happens in their brain because dragon magic biology!
To Daemon, his mating to Rhaenyra made sense. Caraxes and Syrax spirits had an affinity to each other since Syrax’s eclosion. But since Viserys wanted to be stingy, Daemon had no choice but to stay away. He had to watch as his niece, his soulmate, marrying Laenor, her second cousin. Not a bad man, in himself, but the boy was already mated- though the information had been kept very quiet. Laenor was -also- Daemon’s brother-in-law. Since the exiled prince had been made to marry Laena, his own cousin once removed, or was it his third cousin, Daemon couldn’t truly care to keep up at this point.
The whole thing made for bizarre family banquets, in any case. Daemon and Rhaenyra, mates unmated facing each other at the table, the other husband and wife sitting next to them. Children scattered around on the chairs surrounding them, guards and ladies-in-waiting standing near the exit of the room and Laenor’s mate sitting at the far end of the table, managing Rhaenyra and -allegedly- Laenor’s children every now and then, rather than engaging in the conversations flying around them.
And whilst Caraxes used to be angry, envious and betrayed for Syrax, as the dragon spirit and its shifter were, in the other dragon’s opinion, taken for granted, he didn’t want to bite Laenor’s precious pearl’s head off. Maybe it was because of the soft smile Rhaenyra had on her lips when she watched Laenor’s pearl interact with her small and rowdy children, or even how they interacted with his own daughters. Daemon would have to question Caraxes about it later, but for now, the dragon had lowered his angrily guarded walls.
To Rhaenyra, sharing her space with a man unavailable to her such as her husband was had been a harsh reality to adapt to. Seeing him enjoy the company of another had been hard to accept, until she learn to let you in, too. You’d always been polite, kind, never forcing yourself to be in her presence, nor wanting to overstep. She was a princess after all. You had learned, since you first mating with Laenor, that your position was to stay secret, discreet. She, on the other hand, was raised to flash her relationship, and you understood where that could bring conflict within your, admittedly weird, household.
It happens quite naturally, with Rhaenyra. It already was somewhat of a grey zone between the two of you when Laenor was still alive. Not romantic, strictly speaking, but not planotic either. There was an affection, that’s for sure. But the bound becomes something more after Laenor’s death. The excruciating pain Rhaenyra feels when you retract to yourself, the loneliness that she feels when you spend the weeks following your mate’s disappearance cloistered in bed, barely living makes Syrax act more than Rhaenyra.
Dragons are weird, and pity can be powerful. It’s Syrax that start nesting around you after a while, wanting you to feel better, wanting to see you smile again. Caraxes would follow in Syrax’ path days afterwards, to help its mate. And I firmly believe that Rhaenyra would follow Syrax instincts wholly, but Daemon would be more difficult. He would come around it in the end.
Imagine time!!
It was warm. Too warm. Dragonstone was not a warm kind of place. Murky chilly, heavy, humid, stifling, clammy, and so on, but never too warm. You stirred, under the heaviness of the blankets covering you, battling with it as it stayed unmovable. Something was stopping you from finding a breeze. You grunted, an ache in the small of your back throbbing through your spine.
“Lua ziry bē, azantys, se nyke pendagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon īlva va.” Rumbled a gravelly voice, quite in the otherwise silent darkness of your mind. Something snaked around you bringing your back against something firm, and definitely the source of the warmth you were subjected too. Another huff escaped your lips as you tried to open your eyes and face the morning.
“I–I have no idea of what you said.” You admitted grumpily, letting Daemon nuzzle into the crook of you neck. Your admission made him laugh quietly.
On your other side the bed dipped under a weight that your blurry vision could only analyse as a woman, dressed in dark red and black, with long white hair.
“Ivestragī zirȳ sagon, mōrītubis istan qopsa.” Rhaenyra chuckled, an arm passing over your head as she pushed Daemon’s head away from your neck, where he’d started to leave a trail of kisses and small bites.
Mind still fuzzy with sleep and the overwhelming warmth, your reactions felt sluggish and your coordination wasn’t to its maximum. Yet, you still leaned into Daemon’s chest and let Rhaenyra’s deft fingers run through your hair soothingly. The ache in your lower back brought memories of the night before.
Kisses exchanged between Rhaenyra and yourself, neck craned as she pressed against your back. Daemon, doing what Daemon did best, his length deep in your warmth, his mouth kissing every inch of your chest as he did. One of your hands on his shoulder, the other keeping rhaenyra’s face close to keep kissing her, like she was the oxygen you needed.
“Stay with us, Darling.” Your queen chuckled softly, lips replacing her finger on the crown of your head.
You hummed an answer, nonsensical as it was, lifting your head to smile up at Rhaenyra. Daemon huffed, throwing himself back on his side of the bed, dramatically. This made you chuckle. “Everyone can get kisses, you big fire-pup.”
“Fire-pup, that is an original name you’ve found me.” Grunted the prince, grabbing Rhaenyra’s hand to kiss it. You shrugged at him, snuggling into the duvet once more.
“I have to call you something, you all have your nicknames.” Perfect and sole logic. Nobody could argue with it. You moved toward a colder spot on the bed, making your spine throb once more.
Daemon laughed, head thrown back, and Rhaenyra giggled with him. “Of course, Darling.”
Author's note: It's snowing here, and seasonal depression is at my door. So what is better than indulging in my favorite fictional characters trope 😃
Words: 509
Warning: OOC, maybe. Probably.
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It’d been raining. For days. Draining your energy and joy and will away from you bit by bit, days by days. The smile that usually brightened your face now hidden behind a frown as you looked toward the window at the dark clouds, as if they were the reason for your melancholy. (They were).
So engrossed in your mulling over the dark skies, you didn’t hear the door of the room open and close behind you. Nor did you mind the shuffling of clothes that ensued. Maids would come and go to and from the room without bothering you, most of the time. And you had not the energy to look at them go about their work. As hypocritical as this seemed to you. Laziness was truly a skill learned, you realized now.
The bed dipped under a weight that surprised you, taking you out of the self-criticising mood you fell into. Your gaze met with the purple eyes of you queen, who was smiling down at you.
“What thought keeps you frowning, Beloved?” Rhaenyra’s tone was soft, like the kiss she pressed to your lips as she finished her sentence. Leaving her forehead pressed against yours.
“Nothing you can help with, my Queen.” She hummed at your hushed answer.
With a slow movement, one of her cheek took place on your shoulder, and her eyes looked up at you. You could feel the heat of her breath, and the usual warmth of her skin irradiate from Rhaenyra. And even if years of affection from her was your norm, you still took an embarrassed breath, leaning your head against your pillow once more, with a groan. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Rhaenyra chuckled. “Like what? I was simply looking.”
“You are trying to distract me.” The pillow swallowed most of the words just as they left your lips, but Rhaenyra still caught the important part. A quite laughter shook her body, and she nuzzled into the junction of your shoulder and neck.
“I gather it’s working?”
You scoffed in mock insult, raising your head from the pillow. The gall of her! Making a show of it, you, grumbled while shuffling closer to the window bordering your bed. Even if it placed only two inches between you, it made you feel content with the little show of attitude you were playing. It didn’t deter Rhaenyra, as she scooted closer not a second after you’d settled back on the pillows.
“The rain is dragging you down with the rest, beloved.” She whispered, her warm nose pressing against your cheek, before she kissed it, once. Twice. Three times before another word was uttered. “Let me find something to entertain us.”
A soft hand running from your forearm to your shoulder and back again. The other slithered under the pillow, and ended up playing with your hair. You smiled back at your Queen. “You must have more important things to do.”
“The council and my maesters have had their orders. I may yet have some free time to do as I please.”
I will follow (A Dragon!Hybrid!Rhaenyra x Reader blurb)
Note: Here's a little something I had in mind for a little while. Hope you like it.
Warning: Season one scene. *Fluff* among Angst, I guess. OOC.
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Panic. That’s what you felt, hugging Luke to you, watching in horror as Alicent scrambled for a knife and lunged at the little boy. Your hand rose to protect yourself as you pulled the little boy with still bloodied hands behind you, but Rhaenyra was quicker. A roar echoing through the rock chamber like thunder as she caught Alicent’s attack before it could reach any of you.
Daemon, a snarl etched on his face tried to make his way toward the princess, but ser Criston blocked his path, and he retreated towards you, pulling you and Luke farther away, fussing over the small child, one hand keeping you from fumbling to the ground. The debacle lasted a couple of second, maybe a minute, at most, but it seemed like an eternity to you.
You looked at the gaggle of children surrounding you, Baela and Rhaena, whose mother had died only a couple of months prior, Jace, Luke and little Joffrey, whose father had only just died. And now, seemingly, this gruesome spectacle had started because of Aemond wanting to prove himself. How did a dragon shifter became one, you did not know. And after tonight, you pledge to never want to know, either. To have a child maim another, in self-defense or not, was terrible thing, whatever the reason behind it. And yet, to want reparation afterward, as an adult, toward that same child, was nothing if not sickening.
Feeling faint, you chanceled, and without Daemon’s hands as support, you would’ve let the situation best you. A hiss made you look toward the two women, once friends, that still struggled together, now surrounded by knights. Words that you couldn't make out were exchanged before Rhaenyra was pushed away from Alicent, clutching her arm. Drips of blood splattered to the ground. Silence fell on the room for a moment before Aemond spoke, but him too, you tuned out.
Rhaenyra, supported by Corlys, her tail now swaying gently behind her, let you fuss over the wood, trying to keep the blood to a minimum while someone -anyone- fetched for a maester.
“I am fine, Jorrāelagon.” She assured you, quietly, hugging her sons close to herself. You sent her a glare. Not truly biting, more worried than anything else, but just enough to show how ridiculous she sounded. But you choose peace over the fight your spirit demanded.
“The children should be examined and put to bed.” You mumbled, still pressing at the gaping, open wound her Rhaenyra’s forearm. You tried not to think about the warmth of her blood, nor the wetness of the fabric under your fingers. Nausea still made the world swirl like the sea would a boat.
“They shall. And so will you.” She added, looking into your eyes with a seriousness that you started to see in her more often.
Although you were not examined, you had been put to bed with the children. More exactly, the children had come to burry themselves in your bed, with you. Except for Luke, who’d been kept with Rhaenyra for the night, all of the others were pulling up against you, for some comfort, or warmth, or security (yours or theirs, it wasn’t quite clear.) And it was thus that Rhaenyra found you in the earlier hours of the morning.
Buried under a pile of scally and too-warm children covers thrown over your head. It was the feeling of a hand running over your head that pulled you away from the dream of a very warm fire place.
“Wasswrong?” You mumbled groggily, one eyes half opened, and struggling to sit up on your bed.
“Nothing, Sweetling.” She cooed, sitting down on the bed, carefully so to not disrupt the children. “How are you?”
A grumble was your answer, as you passed a hand over your face, letting Rhaena snuggle closer to your side without surprise. “What shall we do now?” You asked her. You knew Rhaenyra well enough by now to know this incident would not stay unanswered.
She sighed, running a hand through over your head once more. Her face looked sullen, tired. Like she hadn't had much sleep recently. You took her hand and pressed a kiss against it. “I will follow wherever you need to go.”
The assurance at least removed the concerned frown over her face.
On the topic of spoiling their mates/lovers, I feel like Rhaenyra and Syrax would be just like Jace and Vermax! A scenario i thought of is perhaps reader is a wetnurse for Rhaenyra, helping take care of the children when Rhaenyra is busy. To people of the court, Rhaenyra spoils this wetnurse so she continues her good work, but in reality, Rhaenyra is trying to court the wetnurse.
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Hello Anon🌞!! I don't really give a role to Beloved so that they could fit everyone's preferences, but I liked your thought, and wanted to expend a little bit on it !
I think that to the untrained eyes of the court, i.e: those not close enough to be privy to Dragon!culture, Rhaenyra would be spoiling her Beloved. Especially more now that she has children and that Beloved is taking care of them, too.
But it wouldn’t have been new, just more present.
The princess coming back from a flying session, to King’s Landing town or some other close by, and bringing back a present to offer you. Not caring of the eyes trained on the both of you when she does.
“I thought of you,” she’d say, watching as you opened her little gift. A beautiful little circlet made out of gold, on which glimmered your birthstone in multiple places. And the things Rhaenyra would do to get to see your smile… It would only add to the whispers, of course:
‘Buying her help with present, how pitiful.’
Or- or!! :
She’d be having you with her all the time, clearly showing her favouritism, either because you are (one of) her sworn knight, or one of her ladies. Following behind her for every activities Rhaenyra has to show up for. Dressed to the nines and having you match her outfit with a piece of your armour, or the colour of your own clothes.
But as far as courting goes, Rhaenyra doesn’t see the little gift she gives or the time you two spend together as ‘courting’ per se. She will be very direct into telling you what she wants, and how she wants it, even if you have to be discreet about it, she is married… But I see her giving you little ornate bells, to be able to hear you wherever you are. Dragonshifters have a very good sense of hearing (of everything, but specifically hearing here). So the rubies incrusted brass bells tinting at your waist\hair\arm\hand\ankle\wherever would be more of a reminder for others that she is focused on you at all times (it's a threat).
