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lchufflepuffcorn · 1 month ago

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hey! i read this (https://www.tumblr.com/lchufflepuffcorn/788780770919645184/hiii-random-thought-i-had-today-i-rewatched?source=share) and wanted to say it's really good, but Daemon part really got to me and i saw your requests are open, so could you elaborate on his part in a fic/one shot, please? (if possible nsfw, but if you don't write, it can be fluffy anyway)

Hi Anon 🥸 ! Unfortunately, I don't really write NSFW, it's usually 16+, at its max, but here you go, and you're fully permitted to write the continuation of that snippet (or any other reader\writer).

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid masterlist

Caraxes had refused to surrender the control of his body to Daemon, resulting in the current position the dragonshifter and his lover were in at the moment. You were sat under Caraxes, who leaned over you in a pose that must have felt awkward if not downright uncomfortable. But the dragon only made itself heard if you stopped running your fingers against the scaly underside of its chin. The soft grumble of the dragon’s version of a purr sometimes got out of Caraxes’ throat, every once in a while. You let little hums to answer it every time.

It was the only form of communication Caraxes could have with you, after all. And even if you couldn’t really know why Daemon couldn’t shift back to his human form, nor could he tell you, but you were not going to complain. Yes, Caraxes was getting heavier over your shoulder as they leaned onto you, but their warmth was also not negligible with the cold sea air that ran around you both.

Something between a grow and a purr escaped Caraxes, making you realize that your hand was now still under the dragon’s chin. “My apologies, Caraxes…” You told them under your breath, not knowing if they could even hear you over the wind and crashing waves under you.

Fingers going back to scratching position you started again your duty, but one of your nail caught in a protruding scale of some sort, that made the dragon recoil from your touch.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, raising to your feet and turning to face the creature, now shifting horrifically from enormous to more human, limbs silently moving to angle human couldn’t achieve without hurting, making you wince. “I didn’t know…” You tried again as Daemon (for it was Daemon now, even covered in scales and fangs too big to keep his mouth closed correctly.) crept dangerously closer to you, like a predator approaching its prey.

Now stuck against the the cavern wall, with nowhere to go but forward, thus meeting Daemon, you stilled. Awaiting the punishment you were sure to receive soon.

“You will be.” Daemon growled, trapping you between the wall and his body, tugging at the collar of your clothe, snapping the seems as if it was made out of spider silk.

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ 🌞 🥸

#x reader #imagines #x reader imagine #dragon imagine #dragon!hybrid!targaryens #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #dragon!Hybrid!Daemon #Dragon!Hybrid!Daemon x reader #DH!Daemon #DH!Daemon x reader #Dragon!Hybrid House of the dragon AU #dragon!hybrid HoTD AU

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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 months ago

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Hiii, random thought I had today , I rewatched httyd and thought about the scene where Hiccup scratched under Toothless' chin and he collapsed in happiness so I wondered if Targaryen's might have like the perfect scratching spot that'd make them do the same thing, basically melting into your touch

Always yours, ✨ anon

Note: Hi ✨anon !! I’m so happy you asked ! I don’t think many of them would let their love scratch at their dragons all willy-nilly, because they still are dragons. But some have more control over the draconic instincts then others, for sure. The younger generation is more open to being scratched or touched in general, too.

Warning: ⚠️ start of explicit scenes, not graphic. Very mild.

Masterlist

Dragon!hybrid masterlist

Aemond: To be fair, Aemond had no control in what Vaghar did, most of the time when he was in dragon form. Otherwise, he would not have had you so close, so soon after a long flying adventure when he and Vaghar were on edge. If it had been left to Aemond, he would have left the moment he saw you, waiting for him in the pit, at landing. But Vaghar had taken over, in his fatigue, and let you run your hands down the scales that made their body. Too tired to fully control himself, and too exhausted to even think about changing form, Aemond simply stood by, in his own mind, and watched.

Vaghar is a sucker for caresses, the prince already knew. He could hear and feel her purrs everything you touched him, at any moment, and for any reasons. This time was no different, except that Aemond had no control over the purrs that rumbled out of Vaghar, purrs he usually quieten to the people around him.

Your fingers scratched at the long snout of his dragon form and a jolt of lightning seems to run through his veins as Vaghars let herself fall to the ground, leaving Aemond dizzy, fully in control of the dragon’s form. The sudden fall of the dragon, and change from the scaled giant to the leathery-winged prince left you no time to brace yourself. Aemond hand caught yours, bringing it against his cheek, stepping so close to you that you could feel his chest heaving against yours.

No words were exchanged, Aemond too busy trying to make sense of this sudden situation, and the heaviness between his legs that had all the blood (or so it seemed) in his body rush down south, too fast to fully understand. He felt sluggish, drunk from your touch, and words seemed like the least pleasing things he could offer you in, when you made him feel so much.

Baela: Baela would like to have you feel her completely, in and out of her human form and dragon form, but the reminder of her burnt hands forever marked on your skin is searing still, in her memory. She likes having yours hands run down her scales, especially against her neck, but she never lets you get cozy with Moondancer’s full form. Her dragon magic is still too fearsome for her Rider, and hurting you is the nightmare that follows her even in the waking world.

Daemon: Caraxes would love to have you scratch under his chin, at the junction of his neck, it’s Daemon that is too proud to as, and too in control to let Caraxes do as he pleases. The only time it happened was the only time Daemon fucked you with scales still covering most of his body and teeth that could have ripped your throat in a blink. The only time, or too he begged for you to keep his eggs inside. Since, he limits your interactions with Caraxes’ form.

Daemon is still too embarrass to talk about his request of you keeping his eggs, he felt dirty and had never seen himself as perverse before this one instance. It’s a him problem.

Jacaerys: Jacaerys wishes he could control Vermax, if only half as good as Baela does Moondancer. Vermax always finds a way to get your hands on it’s scales, and get your fingers in the little spot behind his left wing that he cannot reach. The spot that makes Jace see stars and feel like he could burst from not even having you touch him… down there. And he can’t even make it known to you, since Vermax is not letting him have the control to shift, so Jacaerys endures, until Vermax gets its fill of caresses. Then it’s a red-cheeks Jace that your greet. One that pulls you to the nearest corner to kiss you, hands holding on to your hips and thighs and hair, until he, too, gets his fill of you.

Rhaenyra: Syrah is more than happy to have you scratch at their scales. Every place you touch is their favourite, to be honest. Do they have a particular spot ? Not really. Do they have to have you naked underneath them afterwards ? Most definitely.

Rhaenyra has control over Syrax, and Syrax is most happy to please her human counterpart. With the exception of those tired nights after long deliberations and political talks that Syrax has no care for. Then, the dragon has an easier time having access to their human’s body, and thus to you, in the process. Being able to feel your fingers racking through their hair, and having their chin rest upon your chest, letting them purr and bathe you in their scent to their heart’s content is the most gratifying thing Syrax could find. And the burn of lust grows in her human’s lower belly every time, forcing Syrax to retreat to the darkness of their shared mind as Rhaenyra, now fully awake, takes back the control and makes you sing under her touch.

taglist : @lady-dragon-rider

current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ 🌞

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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 months ago

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Hello morpheus san, I wanted to ask about your story of hawks x reader with wings, what is the hawks mating dance like? 🐦‍⬛🪶🐥

Okay, so. Hello Anon 🐦‍⬛ !! It's been a while since I've watched and wrote about BNHA, but here comes nothing !!

I think it's a mix of many dances, like, Keigo doesn't really take himself seriously, so he would definitely be very lax about his moves. All smiles and coercing for you to join in. It's like a tango, but with the shoulder shimmy of modern I-don't-know-how-to-dance-but-I'm-having-a-great-time kinda thing. He would spread his wings, too, because he's proud of them, and he want's you to know that they are cool, too. That they could definitely protect you (he's a hero, duh) but the would be yours to find refuge in every night. He would like to close in on you, dancing loser and closer until you're in his arms, like a real tango, at some point.

Keigo definitely has a playlist to dance to in front of you.

(exemples under the cut)

#x reader #imagines #hawks imagines #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #mha x reader #mha imagine #mha #bnha #Keigo takami x reader #keigo takami imagine #keigo takami

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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 months ago

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love the library. there's no risk. you can take out a book and go "wow this sucks" and just give it back. and when you do that you're still making the library's Number Go Up so you'll be able to roll the dice on even more books. all for the low low price of free/you already paid for it with your tax money so you might as well use it

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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 months ago

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Hi, I loved your stories about Hawks x a pregnant reader. Hawks sounds so sweet. Does he have bird instincts to take care of his little bear and his baby? (like a nest, etc.)

Good question!! It's been a while since I've written about BNHA, but here it comes !

Note: This works as way to many "to's" in it. I don't even make the difference between "to" and "too" anymore. 😭

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Rules

Hawks, the hero, is already very close to his fans, or as close a hero can be. He smiles for the cameras, stops for the journalist and hugs the children that come to him running. But not many people outside of his work circle know that Hawks (or Keigo, in this case) himself has a child.

Is waiting on his child, to be precise, even if he talks about the baby like it's already here. 'But they can hear now, so that's basically true.' Keigo cries when you mention that the baby is not here yet, a hand circling your rounding belly.

And if Hawks, in his professional life, appears to be always in full possession of his wits, that is not the case for Keigo.

Keigo who, in learning that you were pregnant with his child, started to cry. That wrecked the house, floors, walls and everything, to make sure you needed nothing, nor were you in danger inside. Keigo who had you try nearly ten mattress shops and sixty beds before settling on one. 'You're creating a life here, you can't also have your back hurting.' He would observe obstinately when you tried to convince him it wasn't a necessary thing to buy. Keigo who threw tantrums if you tried to ready the nursery without him, of lift a single thing heavier than a tissue box.

For some months after Hawks week-long vacation taken out of the blue, the winged hero could be seen stopping at multiple convenience stores. For Keigo's biggest fear is that you would lack something you craved whilst he was busy. He makes certain that you will have your chocolate covered pickles, even if he finds them disgusting.

Days before your due date, Keigo would become restless. It dawns on him that he cannot help for the delivery. Not as much as he would like, anyways. He takes vacations to stay with you, and is more than happy to try multiple different things to help break your waters (😉).

He holds your hand as you push, resting behind your back on your hospital bed, murmuring words of encouragement and endless apologies for the hurt he's causing you. Tears roll down his cheeks when the baby you deliver utters its first cries.

He would have you get out of the hospital in the most discreet way, like you came in, even if it means leaving by the back door. He's to engrossed in the little life you've made and gave birth to, to really care.

Keigo is as much alerte to the baby's need as you are, and relish in helping feed them and putting them back to sleep (even if sometimes he keeps them in bed with you because he like how his baby smells).

#imagines #hawks x reader #hawks x f!reader #keigo takami #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #mha #mha x reader #mha imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami imagine

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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 months ago

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Do you think the dragon hybrids would like, scent their lover? If that makes sense. Since I would assume dragons have a distinct smell, the hybrids just rub up in their lovers like a cat. -💎

Note: Such a cute ask!! Thank you 💎anon!!

Warning: None

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Dragon!hybrids Masterlist

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I think some of them definitely would. Those who do either because they cannot control their instinct of wanting to claim their lover\mate in a softer, more superficial way, or simply because they are confident about what they do and why they do it, seeing it as an active part of your romantic and sexual lives. Those who don’t are probably ashamed of their needwant, not knowing how to answer their lover’s questioning looks when they do it.

Aegon would instinctively rub himself all over his lover without a care in the world, having you sat underneath him on your shared bed. Wings wrapped around you like a cocoon and little chirps leaving his throat as he’s unable to otherwise communicate what relief and pleasure the simple act of scenting you brings him. You’ve known him long enough not to ask about this sudden bout of physical touch need he was fulfilling now, preferring to let Aegon get his fill. Questioning him usually made him mad, and he would retreat into a grumpy silence you didn't care to entertain most nights. And Aegon is only too please to have you so pliant under him as you let him have his fun. He would never admit that he likes th subtil whiff of his smoky, sulfuric smell tangled with yours, and sweetened by the oils you use to bath. That’s a secret he’ll bring in death with him.

Aemond is more sneaky about it. He’ll leave his hand on your shoulder or back, have you were his cape when he deems it too cold (he doesn’t even need a bloody cape!!) He also uses sex as ha way to feed his need of scenting you so as to not have to answer questions he cannot give intelligent and thought off explanations. However he’ll have you, you can be sure that Aemond’s nose will be nuzzling your neck sometime or another, his body pressed so close you thing he wants you to merge with him, truly become one. The scales of his skin leaving visible indentations onto your skin when your both done. And Aemond relishes on his scent, like a lit incense, that follows you around for the day afterward, mixing with the other scent that makes you, well, you.

Baela is confident enough in herself and your relationship that she would not hide the scenting. Sure, she would keep it to a minimum around others, but she wouldn’t keep you in the dark about it either. Having you wear one of her scales, rubbing her hands on your body, covered or not, letting the burnt rosewood that was her smell seep into you, mixing with the more unique smell of you. Maybe she would have you wear one of her (numerous) ribbons, somewhere on your person, just because she likes having a visual reminder of her ownership (that’s a dirty word, but is nonetheless true) of you. And she dislikes leaving traces of your intimity for others to see. The burnt marks of her hands in your skin is a reminder enough of how fragiles humans are, and what physical/visual marks can spur on.

Daemon would be very quiet about scenting. Not letting you know exactly why he keeps touching your neck and wrists and ankles. But he would get mad if you dodge him, or worse, wash his scent off. It would take, I imagine, some time before he’s comfortable enough with you to explain (a bit) about scenting. His touches would also become more affectionate, less hidden. Mornings where Daemon would let his hands caress your body, waking you up gently until you’re all but drunk off of him. Having you writhing with pleasure, lust or not, simply because he can and he wants to. Scenting, to Daemon, is the hicky of royalty. People get thrown off by something, they don’t quite know what, but he does, and most importantly, you do too. Daemon would never admit to liking the mix of his burnt-meat-smell with yours… Caraxes is more talkative about it then him.

Helaena scents you very rarely. She scents her children more than she does you, which, to a point, is understandable. The insulting part is that you’re with her more than her children. Helaena was not taught the dragon ways, and Alicent didn’t encourage the scenting between her children either, even if it’s a formative part of packbounding and childhood in dragon hybrids. Helaena tends to scent you when she gets overwhelmed by something. Too many people, a stressful moment, after a tea with her mother. It’s her hand placed in the crook of your arm, a brush of her hair tangling with your own, or your clothes. She does it in all settings of her life, private or more public (or as public as Helaena goes, anyways.) the smell of burned grass mingled with the smell she associated with you calming her more than any potions the maesters had ever given her. That’s usually when Dreamfyre takes over her mind to sooth them both.

Jacaerys likes having you smell like him, like too-warm sand on a too-hot day. He likes having you touching him in any way, shape and form possible. He doesn’t really shy away from scenting you when people are around, even if he tries to stay princely around strangers or in official meetings. But could you really blame him? If he doesn’t scent you, then he has to contain Vermax (more than usual), and appear normal when doing it, and he’s expected to be alert, too. So he just… scent you, whenever the urge takes him. In the garden after playing with his siblings? Done. While lazing around in bed? Easy. Because some lord of a small house looked at you just a bit weirdly for a bit too long? Bet. Jacaerys is proud of his dragon traits and won’t shy away from it, so what makes some people weirded out? They just have to avert their gaze when they see his arms encircle you.

Laenor is more discreet about it. Sure, he’ll rub himself like a cat on you in private, but there are apparences to uphold, unfortunately. Laenor cannot scent you whenever he pleases, and this is his tragedy. It does not deter him from giving you presents! Clothes (his), and congratulations!! You now share a perfume. Something akin to encens and the sea air that he’s so fond of, and mixing to you, Leanor would roll in it himself if he could. Seasmoke is particularly proud when you wear a piece of his clothing in public, and Laenor has to reign them in so as not to smother you in affection. But Rhaenyra could tell you about Laenor’s micro expressions that he cannot hide well. The little tremor in his hands when you walk past, the way his eyes search for you in the sea of people when your intermingled scent floats to him. How his scaly tail raises to alertness when he recognizes a familiar shirt on your shoulders.

Rhaena would like to scent you, but lacks the instinct to need it. She knows that not scenting you should bother her, is bothering her, but she cannot bring herself to do it, as it brings her no satisfaction. The urge of having you be hers completely in the most innocent and intimate way cannot be filled. Her nose cannot pick up on the scent that should be hers on you. It’s a subject she is not willing to bring with you, or anyone else, for that matter. At least not for a long time. What you don’t know won't hurt you, and gods know how hurt you become in knowing her to be unfulfilled.

Rhaenyra is unbothered in scenting you outrageously. Younger, she would make a small show of pressing herself against your body, making people’s gaze falter from you, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at her lips as Syrax’s purrs echoed in her mind and out of her throat. The heavy smell of melted metal soaking up your skin and clothes, not that you notice, anyway. As she grew, Rhaenyra found that she didn’t need to express her possessivity so harshly. You were hers completely, without a doubt or the shadow of reticence. Yet, having you prowl around smelling both as yourself and her made the dragon spirit sharing her mind preen harder than anything else. Clothes were now kept with hers, in the same chest, washed with the same care, by the same hands. Individuality of bath time now non-existent after all those years, but if it kept your queen smiling, who were you to refuse her?

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ 🌞

#Dragon!Hybrid!Helaena x reader #dragon!hybrid!Jacaerys x reader #Dragon!hybrid!Laenor x reader #Dragon!hybrid!Rhaena x reader #Dragon!hybrid!Rhaenyra x reader

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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 months ago

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Do you think the dragon hybrids would like, scent their lover? If that makes sense. Since I would assume dragons have a distinct smell, the hybrids just rub up in their lovers like a cat. -💎

Note: Such a cute ask!! Thank you 💎anon!!

Warning: None

Masterlist

Dragon!hybrids Masterlist

Taglist form

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ 🌞

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lchufflepuffcorn · 3 months ago

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No, that happens to me too… honestly, I was thinking it was because of an update, but I’m not so tech savvy to pretend really knowing anything about this. It is very confusing and frustrating tho…

Keep up the good work ! 💛

Not sure if this is just me but im having trouble with my posts not showing up in tags??

Like ill post something, tag it, and then im scrolling through my tags (checking up updates on fics and whatnot) and the tags themselves arent updating? Like when you click onto "latest" in a specific tag and the most recent one is a couple of days/weeks old.

But i know i have posted stuff for that tag legit hours sometimes minutes earlier.

Ive also seen this with some of the people i follow, they post something and then i for whatever reason cant see it when i scroll through the latest on the tag they posted for.

Am i being dumb? Is it not showing up for a reason? Or is there some sort of weird update window?

I really hope this makes sense bc i feel like im losing it 😭😭

#fanfic #fanficiton #send help #why tumblr #tags problem

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lchufflepuffcorn · 3 months ago

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Rhaenyra and Daemon sharing their lover

Poll winner 🥇 Dragon!Hybrid!Targaryens.

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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Dragon!Hybrid Masterlist

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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.”

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Anons: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ 🌞

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lchufflepuffcorn · 3 months ago

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Reacting to 😏 eyes

A dragon!hybrid!Targaryen imagine.

Warning: ‼️ No graphic description but hints of NSFW. Maybe OOC... I don't really care tho.

Note: This is about Daemon and Laenor. And it's short and spicysweet.

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Daemon reacting to Bedroom-eyes :

Catching the dark, heavy gaze you held on him, Daemon could only smirk, before lowering his head, hiding his reaction further. He knows the effect he has on you. The way his words fending the air, cutting tensions (or creating them) tended to crawl under your skin and make you boil for him. Daemon is a patient man, when it benefits him. And if Caraxes would prefer to pounce immediately on you, craving the taste of your skin just as you seem hungry for them, Daemon reels the dragon in.

‘Just for a moment longer. We have visitors.’ He barter with the godlike part of his soul that only wish to please you, please itself. And Daemon as to push away thought of your naked body, sprawled on his bed, wetting his sheets with your spoils, moaning his name so prettily.

The exiled prince would let his gaze, or is it Caraxes’ now, gaze rake your body. Words (he couldn’t care less about his visitors anymore) leaving his lips, but Daemon takes the time to lick his lower lip before his eyes leave you. He doesn’t miss the way your knees jolt, or how your back straightens. He doesn’t miss the spike of arousal that whiffs off of you, overpowering the salty tang of sweat that lingers in the room full of consultants and leaders of whatever delegation he was supposed to host. Fighting Caraxes became a struggle he gladly accepted, pushing down the burning need to grab you, pressing against your back.

Daemon likes to make his wait worth it.

Laenor Reacting to Bedroom-eyes :

Laenor has a lot of self control. Seeing you look at him with the same gleam you usually reserved for the bedroom, appreciating his form up and down, eyelids half-closed in the process. Laenor has to fight all of his logic, all of his instincts so to not undress you right there and now, fighting against Seasmoke so to not press his teeth against the tattoo of it on your skin. The need to let you have your way with him, just to see how you would play it out.

Laenor knows that duty comes before pleasure, and unfortunately, you are pleasure. That doesn't mean he won’t do anything more to keep that gaze of yours on him for as long as possible. Might even teasingly look at you, a knowing smirk on his face as he open his wings to stretch them. Show of confidence. Laenor, however is not patient, he simply knows to wait. His whole concentration is now clouded by images of you and him, in the throws of passion, the sounds the both of you make, how your body feels against his and how beautiful you look with a dazed look and red and puffy, over-kissed lips.

“Later, I will do anything you wish me to.” He promises silently, looking at you without breaking the eye contact, trying to silently convey his thoughts before duties obliges him to some other activity for the meantime. Laenor is nothing if not resourceful, he will find a way to give you what you crave, even more so if you’re craving him.

taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ 🌞

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lchufflepuffcorn · 3 months ago

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I’m stuck guys. I don’t know if I want to write about Rhaenyra and Daemon sharing their lover, or if I want to write about Aemond just learning to love his Qēlos… so I’m making you choose for me 🤓🤭 (All dragon!hybrid!AU, of course).

Thanks in advance xx

#x reader #imagines #x reader imagine #dragon imagine #dragon!hybrid!targaryens #writing #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #Rhaenyra x reader X daemon

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lchufflepuffcorn · 3 months ago

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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).

taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️ (🌞)

#x reader #imagines #x reader imagine #dragon imagine #dragon!hybrid!targaryens #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd rhaenyra #dragon!hybrid blurb #Dragon!hybrid!Rhaenyra #Dragon!Hybrid!Rhaenyra x reader #DH!Rhaenyra x reader #DH!Rhaenyra #Dragon!Hybrid!Rhaenyra imagine #DH!Rhaenyra imagine

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lchufflepuffcorn · 4 months ago

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Always coming back to you

Note: I wanted to write a little angst about Beloved and Rhaenyra, prompted by the lovely @lady-dragon-rider. So this explains a little bit of what Beloved lived through before this imagine. (Suffer now, MOUAHAHAHA!!)

Warning: It’s very descriptive, not a lot of dialogue, you’ve been warned. It’s before I should’ve stayed at home, but could be read as a standalone…

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After Alicent married Viserys was when everything truly started.

The whispers.

“I heard the princess invited them in her room last night…”

“Isn't it weird to spend so much time with someone? Day and night, those two are attached at the hip…’’

Like bees buzzing in the shadows of the halls, floating to your ears through the wind, days after they’d started circulating. Rumours of little consequences, really, but annoying nonetheless.

You let them slide, at first. Your duties where to Rhaenyra, not to some gossip spreading throughout the help, even if it spread like wildfire. You forced yourself not to listen. You already knew that your lady was showing preference to you, and the rest, well, it was for you and her to truly know. So you were more than happy to let the help wonder about the true extend of this preferential relationship.

Bold questions came next, when the help, or other workers of the court could manage to find you alone. Salacious or simply downright nosy, all you could do was clench your fists and answer like your lady would’ve wanted you to : with less details possible.

“Is it true, are dragons truly warmer than us?”

“Have you gotten a bite taken out of you, yet?”

“Are her wings something she uses often?”

The last one had been followed by a very telling raise of eyebrows, the knight asking was known to be very interested by anything that wore dresses. You hadn't felt bad to report him to your lady, that very same night.

Sometimes, you were left out, sure. Rhaenyra preferred you, out of everyone else at court, but she preferred her uncle over you, a thousand times over. This you knew also. You couldn’t say it didn’t sting a little bit, but dragons where not beings to be controlled. You were lucky enough as it was. And you kept telling yourself so. You were aware that she would have to marry someone of her own standing.

Your family was known, yes, but not renown. Just lucky enough to have a child be kept as the princess favourite plaything. Sometimes, the cruelty didn’t come directly from the court, but from inside the house. And your family just loved to remind you of your standing at court.

‘Dear little fawn of mine..’ Liked to write your mother in her letters. ‘Scandalous words have echoed oto us, about the dragon princess and yourself.’ But usually, her moralizing letters always ended the same honeyed way. ‘Do be a dear, and keep letting the princess make use of you as she wishes, the Targaryens are powerful allies.’

Reflecting back, you think it`s because of Alicent that you were sent back home when Rhaenyra left for her tour. The husband-hunting trip, she called it, rolling her eyes and shaking her head on your laps as you both lazed under her favourite tree in the gardens. Hidden from view just enough to keep the maester teaching her roaming aimlessly searching for you, but not enough to miss the show. Maybe her little escapade with her uncle to the prostitute was the reason king Viserys used, but you knew that Alicent had worked far longer in the shadows to have you sent away.

At the very least, since you came back with the bloody princess, the head of the white deer behind you, pulled by many a knight once they’d found you. You would never be able to forget the hate that burned in Alicent pretty eyes when your locked with the sea-blue orbs. For a moment, you`d wondered if she, too, had dragon blood in her vein.

Far from court, the silent was haunting. Quiet, cold and void. Peace, if peace could be boring. At times, you wondered if it was because of heartily feeling you felt so… sad. Alone in your tower, far from the lady you had been made to serve. The lady that you loved for so long. You even received letters from Alicent (gods forbid) much nicer than what you’d grown used to. Yes, now free of the heaviness of rumours and burdens of secrets, you still found yourself bound to the filial shackles only marriage could free you from. Or a life devoted to religion, you supposed.

Being called back, after it was decided that she would marry Laenor, posed a choice on you. The dreaded black and red wax seal that you dreaded but yearn for now felt like a bitter-sweet poison seeping from the parchmen to your veins. Going back, or staying and obliging to the every whims of your family. At least the prospect of being Rhaenyra’s little pet, as your mother once so kindly put it, left you with a little more freedom. So you went back.

Back to your lady.

Now, that’s when court truly begin to show it’s dark sides.

From whispers to giggles behind your back, then directly to your face. And the barely hidden innuendos in their comments. You fought hard to ignore them.

“Running to your master, again?”

“I hope she gives you satisfaction in exchange of all of your hard work…”

The smirks and knowing looks started to bother you more when Rhaenyra started to show. Her pregnant belly put forward by the dresses she wore. Dragons where of a mysterious specie, and the help always had egregious rumours about how they worked. Childmaking was no different. And even if it could be true, even if it was, they had no right to wonder about it, wonder about the heir of king Viserys. You knew the ins and outs of Laenor and Rhaenyra’s relationship. You knew of their troubles in bed also, you never even thought of asking your lady about the father of her children. Because it wasn’t your concern, nor was it ser Harwin Strong’s. The king’s heir was about to have an heir. That was the important part.

And such lovely heir it was. And the whispers became worst.

Jace became the Strong heir, the Beloved heir. And just for that last one, you knew that Alicent was behind it. Noone but her, who’d been close to Rhaenyra enough to hear her call you Beloved in the most intimate of setting. Dinner parties where family only was conveyed, and such.

“A most enjoyable party with our most Beloved of our circles.” She’d toast, once, her gaze going from Rhaenyra to you, and landing on Laenor last. The warmth of her tone lost , contrasting the freezing gaze she wore. Her smile not reaching her eyes, never when Rhaenyra or you were in the room, or even mentioned, you heard.

You helped your lady with her new baby as much as you could. So much that Alicent had started to refer to you as the child’s third parent, in public. Her tone suggested playfulness, but her eyes seemed to search you for a reaction.

By the time Luke was born she wasn’t making any efforts to hide her suspicions. So much that even her children started making comments about it. You were used to the pet comments, the masters innuendos, but when it was about your lady’s boys, your boys, it stung more than you even imagined it could.

The Queen consort had requested that Luke be brought to her as soon as possible, and as Rhaenyra was still recovering from the whole ordeal of birth, you went. Laenor had been called to the bedside of his wife, it was only logical. Alicent face scrunched up as if smelling something foul when you entered the room, bundled baby in your arms.

“I expected Rhaenyra.” She told you, flatly, not even doing you the grace of raising from her seat, making you kneel next to her to show the baby.

“My lady was in no shape to make the travel.” Words soft, meaning clear. A jab at your once-friend hypocrisie. She too had fresh memories of birthing weakness. Her youngest not being old of a full year yet. Alicent narrowed her eyes at you, her finger moving the blanket from the baby’s head, uncovering a tuff of black-brown hair.

“He has the princess’s complexion.” And not Laenor’s. That you knew. But you knew also that it was better they were still Rhaenyra’s children. And so you only smiled politely.

“Her beauty, too.” Another jab, just for the fun.

With a hand, Alicent sent you back to your feet. “The child seems healthy. I shall not keep you longer, lest I worry the princess.” But as you left, you hear her grumbles, probably because she wanted you to hear them: “A kingdom ruled by mutts and bastards…”

If my lady takes it. You thought, swallowing the bill and inflammatory words that rested on your tongue. I shall take it too.

taglist : @lady-dragon-rider

current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️

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lchufflepuffcorn · 4 months ago

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Reacting to you giving them the 😍 look

A Dragon!Hybrid!Targaryen reaction

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Warning:

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Becomes a flustered mess. Stuttering, deflecting. The rooms seem stuffy and they’re too warm. Cannot look back into your eyes and cannot express why it makes them so shy to be thus admired.

Aemond, Rhaena, Laenor, Helaena.

Smiles softly, back at you, a small tinge of appreciation tugging at their heart. Gets closer to you to kiss you as a way to express just how lucky they are to have you by they’re side, and how in love they are with you too.

Rhaenyra, Baela, Jacaerys, Daemon.

Laughs it off, teasing you back because of your lovesick expression, makes you feel shy to get back at the embarrassment you don’t know you’ve made them feel. It’s just another excuse to have you in their arms.

Daemon, Aegon, Laenor, Jacaerys, Baela.

Blurb of their reactions under the cut

Aegon:

There’s a softness in him that nobody else but you can see. Sharing a warm bath, the chirping of birds as only sound breaking the silence. You were currently admiring Aegon's peaceful traits. His head leaned back, resting back against the bath, eyes closed to take as much advantage of the calm as he could. The lines of stress that usually creased his forehead were gone, the frown of his perpetual pompous air left its place to the soft and natural smiley position of his lips. One of your fingers, that until then had been busied drawing nonsensical forms on his chest, made it's way up to the corner of his lips, to trace them.

Aegon opened an eye. “Careful, my love, your gaze will make me melt at this rate,” he teased in a hoarse whisper. His hand coming to hold yours and he pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“I cannot melt what is already made of fire.” You sputtered, lowering your gaze to his chest, startled by the intensity of his gaze. You'd tried to make your tone teasing, as his was, but the fatlering of your voice had you wince a little. Aegon simply hummed a breathless chuckle, adjusting himself under you, hips grazing your behind momentarily.

“Admit it, you wanted to touch me.” And seeing as you started to shake your head, trying to deny his playful accusation, Aegon placed a soft hand to your cheek, now looking down at you. “That’s alright. I cannot fault you for it.”

Aemond:

“I can feel your gaze, Qelos.” He was sitting at the very front of his cushion seat, a heavy and dusty volume sat on his knee, a position he’d held for hours now. You’d abandoned your own activity to look at the man’s form, appreciating him. Aemond had tolerated it for a while, but after half an hour had passed and he could still see your body half turned to him, the dragon hybrid couldn’t resist teasing you about it anymore. His purple irises rose to meet your.

“Can’t I just admire you?” You asked. Not teasing, it was an earnest question, and somehow, that took Aemond by surprise even more. And when your eyes trailed his figure, as if to prove your point, the man nearly broke.

A heat overtook him, creeping it’s tingling fingers on the back of his neck, burning a path to his face and down his spine. The book on his knees nearly tumbled down, shaken by the jolt echoing through his body. Aemond closed it, a sharp thud breaking the flustered silence that had overtaken the room.

“You’re speaking nonsense.” The prince managed to say, his gaze hardening, as if it would distract you from the flush of his cheeks. Your lips curled into a smile and his own raised to mirror your expression, on a smaller scale.

“I would argue that it makes perfect sense, my prince.” You rose from your seat to instead kneel in front of Aemond, removing the book from his laps and letting your hand take place on him instead. Your eyes met his, nothing but love in them as you spoke. Aemond swallowed harshly, hands coming to rest upon yours, his eye roaming your face, unsure, but not unpleased by your words.

You could still see the dark scale that started to cover his jaw, his embarassment very visible now.

Baela:

“Such a high praise it is, my Rider, to have your eyes follow me as I train.” Baela’s words were loud, teasing you publicly as she’d caught you looking at her flying. Her wings still strained against the wind, hands on her hips. The help working in proximity all looked at you both, in turns, stilling for a moment. You groaned, running a hand to your face.

“Baela…” But your concerns went unheard as Baela walked up to you, large grin breaking her usual stern but lovely face, wind-wiped cheeks darker than usual.

“Did the sight please you? Was my spectacle worthy?” The princess took one of your hands in hers, eyes shining as she asked. The other rested against your hip, were her mark seemed to warm up, spreading a comforting heat throught your body. You had always enjoyed watching her fly, and the figures she’d manage today, you gathered now, had been to show off to you. A wave of embarrassment crawled up your spine, tingling to the base of your neck.

“You know it always does.” You muttered, making Baela laugh out loud, her head thrown back, throat exposed. She rarely let herself go this much in public. You smiled, eyes taking in the sight of her now, too. “You’re always perfect.”

Baela wings fluttered behind her, and brought your hand to her lips, kissing your fingers softly. “I’m glad, then.”

Daemon:

He caught you by surprise, a grin carving his face, and the glint in his eyes made your stomach drop. He looked like a predator having found his prey, stalking closer to you softly, purposefully.

“See something you liked, Azantys?” His deep tone send shivers down your spine, but you cannot bring yourself to lower your gaze from his face.

“Maybe I have.” You answered him softly, your hands coming to fumble with a piece of your outfit nervously. You monitor his movement, watching him creep closer to you until his chest nearly touches yours.

It’s like a battle happening, quietly as you study each other’s gaze, his smirk getting bigger with each seconds. “Have you? Pray tell, what.” He purred, one hand coming to the small of your back to press you closer to him. You could feel the warmth of his body seeping through his to you, and you weren’t sure if what you were feeling was embarrassment or it was just… him.

A chuckle left Daemon as you lowered your head to hid your face against his shoulder, yet, it didn’t deter him from teasing you further. “Now, Azantys, you have to say. I want to share your likings, how mean of you to keep them from me.” The rumble of his voice made your heart spike up.

Helaena:

“Is their something you wished to talk about?” Helaena asked softly, raising her head to look at you.

For the first time in weeks the princess had time to be alone (or as alone a princess could be) to do whatever she please. No meetings to hold, no party to attend, no children to keep, no mother to entertain. Only her, her embroidery and you, to keep Helaena company.

At the sound of her voice, and once her gaze met yours, you jolted, sitting straight in your chair. ‘’No, my lady. I was simply admiring your work.’’

You hadn't strike to fluster the princess, but you achieved it nonetheless. Her pale skin flushed, from the part of her neck that wasn't covered in grey-ish-blue scale to the tip of her ears, in a pinkish hue. ‘’You flatter me.’’ She mumbled, raising her legs to tuck them underneath her, a childish habit she still hadn’t got rid of, no matter how hard her mother had tried to train her into forgetting it. You smiled.

‘’It’s the truth.’’ You shrugged. The new colours on the princess’ skin gave you an odd sens of pride. But your words proved to be the wrong one to bring back calmness within Helaena’s demeanor, as her blush darkened and she hid her face with the curtain of her hair.

Jacaerys:

He’d done nothing particular, and yet, found you looking at him with enamoured eyes, a daze expression and a soft smile on your face, as he came back in your quarters, all sweaty from his sword practice.

‘’Have I done something, my Crown?’’ His expression mirrored yours, as a smile bloomed on his face, raising an arm to remove the layer of sweat from his brows, raising one quizzically, trying to get an answer out of you.

‘’I find that you have nothing to do more than be yourself for me to be in awe, my prince.’’

You never called him your prince, except when you wanted to rile him up, or tease him a little. His lips curled into a full smile now. He got closer to you, gently, measuring his movement not to make you suspicious of anything, prefering to bid his time with a teasing banter.

‘’Do you, now. Such luck I have to be married to such a loving mate.’’ He purred, stalking closer to you before wrapping his arms around your middle.

‘’EW! Jace.’’ You complained automatically, felling his drenched body press into you, the sulfur scent of his sweat now sticking to your clothes. Pushing him away didn’t work as he stayed encroached to you like a monkey to a branch.

‘’I thought you loved me as myself?’’ He pouted, rubbing his face to your neck, making you groan.

Laenor:

‘’You’re not listening.’’ Laenor accused, laughing. The ship that held you both was still docked, because Laenor had been adamant in showing you how to knot properly, which his father had thought you both when you were younger, but who were you to refuse you lover of spending time with you?

‘’I was!’’ You countered loudly, punching his shoulder, weakly, but still driving your frustration of his teasing across.

‘’No, you’re not, you’re just looking at me with big, dreamy eyes, and drooling.’’ He scoffed, tone playful, rubbing his own chin as if to mimic your supposed drooling. And you knew for a fact that you had never drooled in your life, not even for him.

But you pass a hand under your chin anyway, for good measure. ‘’I don’t drool.’’ You muttered, lowering your face toward the rope Laenor and you shared to practice your knotting, already working the one he was showing you, intending to prove Laenor wrong. But a finger under your chin stopped you, forcing you to look up at the smiling man once more.

‘’Whatever you say, Nūmio.’’ He smiled and leaned closer to kiss your lips softly, for a short moment. ‘’I find it endearing.’’ He whispered against your lips.

The words : ''You're terrible.'' Came out as a huff, mumbled against Laenor's lips also. And it made him preen harder, leaning against you completly now, the little crest of scale and nerves potruding from his jaws now extending with pride.

Rhaena:

‘’You’ll do marvellously well.’’ You repeated to Rhaena as she was pacing the room nervously, wrenching her hands with every breath.

‘’You don’t know that. Maybe they’ll rescind their protection. Maybe my offer won’t be enough to keep us here.’’ She denied, shaking her head, walking back to you. She was paler than usual, and you knew that this meeting would prove essential to keep Rhaenyra’s youngest children safe until you could find a way to go to Pentos undetected.

You ran your hands over her arms, up her shoulders until you reached her neck, thumbs caressing her jaw softly. ‘’You will do just fine. They are our allies. Why would they not agree to offer us protection?’’ You ressoned with her, eyes scanning her face. Even in the depth of nervousness, she was the prettiest sight your eyes had ever landed on.

‘’Don’t look at me like that.’’ Rhaena murmured, her hands coming to cover yours, eyes casting downward now.

‘’Like what?’’ Innocent enough, but you wanted her to say it, she always tried to deflect how you saw her, and now, now, you knew she needed to feel loved and supported more than anything.

‘’I don’t know. Like I hung the moon or something…’’ She whispered, ducking her head to lean her forehead against your shoulder.

‘’You didn’t?’’ You exclaimed, faking surprise, which made her chuckle, and look up at you again.

You’d accomplish your mission.

Rhaenyra:

‘’You look pretty, my lady.’’ You told her, wrapping an arm around her middle, supporting her very pregnant belly. Legs on each side of her tail, you were glad that her wings were not out as they were earlier today.

Rhaenyra had been on her feet for most of the day, going about war strategy and plotting letters for her allies. Today was the first time since the morning that you actually were in the same room as her, and you would use this to your advantage.

‘’I am the size of a ship, wearing the most boring dress of mine and my hair is a mess, Beloved. Do not lie to me.’’ She complained, ordered your softly, letting her head fall to your shoulder as you took some of the weight of the baby growing inside of her,

‘’I wouldn’t dare lie, Nyra. Your’re always pretty. I just wanted to make sure someone told you today.’’ You hummed, kissing her shoulder. The mirror reflected you both, letting Rhaenyra see your face even if her back was pressed to your chest.

She chuckled, kissing the side of your face. ‘’You’re the first one to tell me. Thank you.’’

You smiled at her, looking in the mirror to catch her eyes. ‘’You are most welcome.’’

taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣🧑‍⚕️☄️💎✨❤️

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lchufflepuffcorn · 4 months ago

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OMG a fic of dragon hybrid Jacaerys marrying his betrothed. I love your writing smmmm❤️

Hen dīnilūks se kivio

A Dragon!Hybrid!Jacaerys x Jewel imagine.

Note: Hi anon !! I dub thee my ❤️ anon, for if you wish to request anything else, you might be able to be recognize. (I have the memorization capability of a goldfish...)

Warning: I will be referring to something already mentioned in this post. Barely 16+ but refers to nudity. GN!Reader. Reader can walk. What else... maybe (probably) OOC Jace. Piss poor High Valyrian.

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It’s a quick, rushed wedding. Much to Jace’s annoyance. He would’ve loved to provide Jewel with a crowd, the biggest feast imaginable and luxuries in insulting quantities. But there’s a war that threatens your days of peace and Jacaerys would be damned if he cannot be married to Jewel and called them (truly) his before he’s obligated to act as heir to his mother and leave for who-knows-where, again. He would like to marry you in the traditional way of his people, but would be so pleased to introduce aspect of your followed religion to the ceremony.

Walking up, alone, on the pebbles of the beach, following the path that leads you to your future husband, who’s back is turned for the moment, you took a breath. Filling your hest with the salty air of the sea, letting the crashing waves take over the thundering of your heart inside your head.

You’re marrying Jace.

The thought still sound foreign to you. Dreamy, even. And you creep closer, timing your steps with each waves that crashes on the soft pebbles of the shore with regular intervals. Your stomach tightens, and feels on the verge of dropping… somewhere. Taking another deep breath to try and keep the black sheep from overcoming your visual field, rolling your shoulders to gain confidence, 'I look ridiculous,' is all you can think about. Rhaenyra, crowned with what looks to be an iron coiffe stands tall, overwatching the ceremonie she will be leading. There’s a small smile on her lips that eases (somewhat) the burning panic inside your veins.

As you get closer, you can see the shake that keeps agitating Jaces shoulders. Either it’s the nerves, or he’s fighting with Vermax not to turn around and look at you, you cannot be certain. It reassuring to see your betrothed act so human, however. And it makes a smile bloom on your face. The scene is even grander than what you'd imagine it would be.

“I want Mother to marry us.” He’d proclaimed some nights ago, not nearly long enough to make the details fuzzy in your mind. You were laying in bed, his face had been nuzzled in the crook of your neck seconds before he spoke, your fingers raking through his too-long curls. The smell of honey was floating in the room as bee's wax candles burned for light, sole source of it now, as sticky warmth had overtaken the Isle with the coming of summer. The words had taken you aback, stilling your hand, making you pull away from the boy's - man now- embrace.

Sure, you knew you would be marrying Jace, one day. It had never really been a question of if, but more of when, after all. But he’d never approached the subject unprompted before. Never without a warning, or a swift, smooth comment leading to it first. It’s was alway the same; he would initiate intimacy, gentle touches, leading to kisses, ending in passion. This, however, was completely different.

“If you wish it.”

“I do.” He responded, looking up, his eyes searching yours. “I wish for her to marry us. Soon.”

That had one of your eyebrow raise. Jace had just come back from weeks away. Still humid from his bath and naked from your rekindling. “Once your mother as secured her crown, we shall ask her.”

But your proposition hadn’t pleased Jace like you thought it would. He hissed and nuzzled against your neck again, pressing his lips to your ear. “Sooner. Before that. I want to marry you now. Call you mine, and have you truly be it.”

“Is this how I shall be asked? Naked in your bed, filthy with our spend? I thought you a romantic, Jacaerys.” You’d teased him softly, tugging at his hair, just so, to make him groan the way you liked. You could feel his hardness spring back to life slowly against your thighs.

“I will ask better tomorrow. With presents and a fanfare. Have confettis be thrown.” He professed, leaving a trail of fiery hot kisses down your neck.

You’d laughed.

And now, you stood, a mear two feet behind Jace, his mother looking at you both, her regal attire seeming more intimidating now than ever. You could feel your knees shake, unsteady feet making their way, wobbling, to your prince.

“Here comes your betrothed, delivered by the sea.” Announced Rhaenyra to Jace. There was nobody else on the beach but Daemon, Baela and Rhaena. The younger children too young to be left trusted not to disturbed the ceremony. You had been the one to request the sea to deliver you. Both to represent how you’d come to Jace everytime you came back, but also to keep his father, Laenor, included. You’d seen his eyes shimmer with emotions when you explained why. You had not commented on it.

The Valyrian traditions where foreign to you. And Rhaenyra was talking in high Valyrian for the ceremony. Jace was looking proud, his wings folded behind his back, shoulders square and back taught. A shine in his eyes as he glanced at your form hinted at the emotions he might be feeling. A small knife was presented to you, breaking the moment. You looked down at the blade, blinking once before Jace took it in his hands.

“I shall cut your lips, and you’ll do the same to me.” He whispered softly, lips barely moving as he placed the black blade’s tip on the middle of your lower lip, and punctured the flesh, dragging the cold material of dragonglass until Jace was satisfied with his work. The dagger twirled between his fingers before he offered it to you, once more.

It was heavy in your hands, but you followed his example, finding the upmost up on his lower lip, piercing the flesh and opening a wound until it reached the upmost down. You lowered the blade again, eyes unable to move away from the blood dripping from his mouth, then in a flash, your gaze met his and you searched Jace’s face for a clue.

He smiled, Rhaenyra spoke, in high Valyrian, again, and Jace took the blade from your hands before pressing its sharp end to his thumb. He smeared some of the blood to his forehead, and repeated the gesture on yours.

‘Valyrian traditions are messy,’ was the only thing floating through your mind when you watched as Jace cut his hand again, his palm, and reaching for your hand, opening a small wound there too. He pressed his injured hand to your injured hand and gave the dragonglass dagger back to his mother. She smiled, and spoke again, words gibberish to your ears.

“We will pledge, just say the words we practiced.” Whispered Jace again, stepping closer to you now, your hand stung, your lips was throbbing, and felt otherwise numb, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Han lantoti anogar.” You both said, your voice much lower than Jace, but still present for those you truly listened.

The sound of the sea kissing the shore felt like a balm on your raw nerves, each salty breath you took as the words spoken sprouted out of your lips, easier to take than the last. “Van syndroti vaedroma.”

Rhaenyra bounded your hands together, black, red and gold silk covering the bleeding hand of her son and you. Now woven in a strong embrace, protected from anything that could try and destroy this bond you now shared. “Mero perzot gihoti.”

Blood dripped from your linked hands, running down your intertwined fingers, staining the silk, marking the pebbles of the beach, witness to the love contract being made on it. Rhaenyra offered you a cup of red wine, which you took. “Eledroma iarza sir, izuli ampa perzi.”

And with Jace encouraging nod, his smile growing as if the cut on his lips wasn’t throbbing, you took a gulp of the liquid. The alcohol burning through the open wound of your mouth, but you forced your face to stay neutral. He was fast to take the cup from you and sip his wine too, before giving the cup back to his mother.

“Prumi ianti seteksi hen jeny mazalarion, quelossa ozundessi…” Jace took a step closer to you, leaning his forehead against your, his voice dropping to a quieter tone, quiet enough to hear your voice echo his promises. His eyes dropped to watch your lips moving with each words you professed.

“Syndroro ono jedo. Ry kivia mazvestraksi.”

You’d barely finished the words when Jace’s lips covered yours, kissing you liked he’d never done before. His free hand coming to cup your cheek, his wings flailing behind him, and the tail he’d kept hidden all during the ceremony was now sawing behind him like the tail of a happy dog.

You heard a chorus of gags, and the unmistakable crystalline sound Rhaenyra's giggle next to you following them. The bind holding both of your injured hands together dropped when Jace, or maybe Vermax at this point, tugged to free himself from it, wrapping his arm around your middle to push his chest against yours, a purr rumbling through him, calming the remnant of nervosity that pulsed through you. Bloody hand gripping your clothes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

As soon as Jace could manage it, the both of you eclipsed yourselves to your shared quarters. His hands had never left you since the exchange of kisses made on the beach. And now that people where celebrating your union with food and wine to distract them from your disappearance, it was hard to feel bad about it now.

“It feels like a dream.” Jace whispered, closing the doors behind you with one hand, his nose buried in the juncture of your neck. “Having you completely mine. Being completely yours.” He trails the last of his sentence, words forgotten as your hand, the uninjured one, raked through his hair.

“Might feel like this for a while.” Your tone was soft, playful.

Jace needn’t to know that you felt the same way. Has if the whole day had been a blur, and you still felt like walking upon clouds. He needed to bet let to feel his emotions. Shivers sprung from your lower back when Jace’s teeth grazed the skin of your jaw. His taloned hands running down the ceremonial clothes you still adorned.

“You looked perfect. But they’ll be prettier on the floor.” He purred against the column of your throat.

“Cheeky.” You teased him, pulling away from his embrace, stepping closer to the bed, already undoing the laces keeping the fit together. a growl echoed through the room when your shoulders appeared from under the fabric.

Jacaerys made quick work of shortening the distance keeping you from him, glueing his chest to your back, letting the tips of his fingers trace the scars on your back. Old mistake, injuries of passion. You didn’t let him think about them too much, turning to face him, you pull him even closer by his shirt. Raising an eyebrow.

“Shall I be the only one naked?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

There was a gleam in Jace’s eyes, and he smirked.

“You’re not naked, yet, my Jewel.” He reminded you before molding his lips to yours once more.

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