#daemon and rhaenyra: humor

[shipcestuous]

[prettymuchteddy]

I love how people in GOT were hyping up the Targaryens when they had dragons over a century ago and now that we get to see them in HOTD, they're just:

Chaotic Gay

Sad Alcoholic

People pleaser

Mad Hater

Loves bugs

Unhinged boi

Bad posture

Mama's boy

Contemplating murder

Peaceful sunshine

Shady Granny

[my--strange--world--sg]

I don't know why I imagine Jace coming back from Winterfell, normal, all happy and finding out about his brother's death and he would be like: "So... Isn't it a good time to say that I broke my wedding vows to Baela and I just fucked fucking Cregan Stark? And yes you were right mother, we did have a lot in common."

Baela's face says it all

S.G.

[stileslittlebanshee]

HOTD characters as text posts: Team Black Edition (Team Green Edition)

[myimaginationplain]

I've decided to make rhaenyra x willem blackwood my new "what if?" au rarepair. they would've been a power couple, I just know it

[escespace]

Addam: We all agree that it's emotional when the compliment comes from a grumpy older lady?

Laenys: She was not a grumpy lady. that was my mom (⁠ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ⁠)

Addam: So... Aren't we denying that she is old?

[acewithapencil]

Rhaenyra taking Kings Landing, based on this old draw the squad reference

[atopvisenyashill]

There's this weird thing going on Reddit right now where people are claiming that legally, Rhaenyra children are not bastards. And I was wondering if you agree or disagree. I think that people are just making up their own canon lore at this point.

Well. Okay I think I’m about to give an answer that is a little spicy but when I get around to my ultimate point I think everyone is going to go "yeah it makes sense that's how you feel, that tracks." Let me start with a personal story to be extra annoying-

My mom, after separating from my dad, swore of marriage. Marriage derailed her life, it had derailed my grandma's life, so she decided that even if she truly fell in love again, she would stay unmarried because clearly marriage jinxes love. She met my stepdad and as he had been divorced three times (and bitterly each time too) he agreed. He proposed to her but it was really just a commitment thing - I promise I am all in on this relationship, and by wearing this ring, you promise too. He moved in. They had one of my siblings, K, and still remained unmarried despite pushback from a few relatives and friends.

And then my stepdad needed knee surgery. And my mom couldn't put a domestic partner on her insurance. So a week before my second sibling, B, was born, after my aunt finished teaching summer school for the day, on what was a random Thursday afternoon, we all put on some nice clothes, piled into the van, and went down to city hall where they got hitched and I cried while everyone made fun of me because their toddler was literally running around the waiting room, it was not a big deal! My parents were both wearing jeans!!! We went to Baker's Square after, not even a nice restaurant! Do you know how this marriage has affected K and B? Not even a little! Do you know why?

BECAUSE NONE OF THIS MATTERS.

There is no moral or biological difference between a child born in wedlock and a child born outside of it. If you put K and B's blood under a microscope and I didn't tell you the ages would you be able to tell the difference between them? Would you be able to figure out which one of my siblings is a bastard and which one is trueborn? No, you would not because the difference doesn't exist biologically, ontologicaly, ecologically, anthropologically, whatever ology you want to bring up, and I think what this fandom finds most frustrating is that there is also no legal difference because LAWS ARE MADE UP. THEY DONT FUCKING MATTER. THEY ARE MAN MADE. I need this fandom to kill the prosecutor that lives in their head and stop arguing over whether Rhaenyra’s oldest boys are ~really~ bastards or not. The “truth” of this is just as it is for my family - it’s completely emotional, situational, and dependent on the feelings of the people involved in it!

Alicent & Otto & Criston, in both the books and the show, have an ulterior motive to insist that legally Rhaenyra’s boys are bastards. They can talk about propriety and legality all they want, but not only were those boys raised and loved by Laenor & Corlys, the concepts of marriage & wedlock & legitimacy are merely tools used to keep people in their place, something those three are very aware of because Otto manipulates the law in order to cut Daemon out of the line of succession which is exactly what kicks off this conflict in the first place! Corlys & Laenor & Rhaenyra have completely different but still existent ulterior motives to insist that legally the boys are true born. They can talk about “well technically” and cite whatever law or precedent they want but again, this same insistence on their legitimacy is a cover for the fact that if they ARE admitted to be not Laenor’s, they all lose access to power.

Not only that, but both Rhaenyra and Alicent become insistent on these competing legalities because they are worried the other will kill their children. Alicent all but confirms that she would have killed them if Rhaenyra had accepted terms with her nasty comment about their deaths when Rhaenyra takes the capital, but Rhaenyra throws her own insistence that she won’t hurt her siblings out the window with b&c.

So yeah, people are making up their own canon lore here because both Otto and Rhaenyra are ALSO making up their own canon lore here. That’s the entire point. Both of these sides have their own agendas, their own very rational fear of the other, and instead of realizing they have to compromise just a bit to get out of the shitshow they’ve found themselves in, they escalate at every turn until they’re all dead and so are their dragons.

The point is - I think everyone is missing here that George is making fun of you nerds who spent all your time insisting they’re bastards or not and debating the legality ad nauseum. He has Stannis ranting about the sanctity of the line of succession and House Baratheon and everyone misses that Stannis is a fucking loser for this because the line started one generation ago and if he didn't want Robert overthrown by Cersei maybe he should have made sure Robert wasn't raping and beating her all the time!! It is the same exact thing here!! If they didn't want Rhaenyra to have bastards, they shouldn't have jerked her around as heir for years then trapped her in a marriage she resented to fix their stupid ass mistakes and if they didn't want the whole thing to escalate into a bloody war, they shouldn't have murdered Luke and Jaehaerys!! That simple!!!!

LEGITIMACY AND MARRIAGE ARE NOT REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lanaisdoe]

Matt Smith and Milly Alcock's chemistry appreciation post

[greenqueenhightower]

[anamazingangie]

gauche // Rhaenyra x Daemon 🐈

🐈 Rated E 🐈 39.5k words 🐈 Complete 🐈 by AmazingAngie 🐈

This beast is a lighthearted modern AU in which the universe gives Daemon a cat, who turns into Rhaenyra, who turns out to be the best thing that ever happened to him. There is an adjustment period though, because she is kind of hard to explain- and she also makes him really really hard.

The story is told over nine chapters, mostly from Daemon POV but with insight from his assistant, chef, and maid who all have thoughts on the pretty girls peculiar behavior. AND includes a lil epilogue! :)

Official Summary:

Daemon finds a kitten in the pouring rain and he isn’t a monster, ok? He didn’t expect to keep it. And he DEFINITELY didn’t expect it to turn into that.  Or: Rhaenyra is a cat until she’s not

tags: Modern AU, Familiars, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Attempt at Humor, daemon's unique moral compass, when you're so lonely the universe gives you a cat and then she turns into your girlfriend, surprise it has a plot now and somnophilia and incest!, rhaenyra is a human for the vast majority of this fic, her cat characteristics are emotional not physical, rhaenyra hates clothing and is hungry for cream

💕🐈 Read on Ao3  🐈💕

Individual chapter summaries and banners below the cut!

🐈 Chapter One 🐈

In which Daemon discovers a cat and is feels too guilty to leave it behind to shiver in the cold rain.

...and in which he wakes to discover the cat is no longer a cat at all.

🐈 Chapter Two 🐈

When he had regained the ability to move, Daemon scrambled out of bed, pushing the girl off his legs in the process. She tumbled into his bedding and looked up at him, her forehead creased into a frown.   “I wanted the cream.” She whimpered, her gaze pleading, as she reached towards his dick which was very  confused, but still very hard. It almost looked proud, as if its height was a testament to the perseverance of mankind and his personal libido.  He brushed her hand away and pulled a sheet up to cover himself somewhat, even though the girl seemed unconcerned with nudity. She was naked too, and fuck if it wasn’t glorious. Truly, It said a lot about just how fucking hot she was that he was distracted by that and not the fact she had been a cat just a few hours ago. 

🐈 Chapter Three 🐈

Daemon is forced to leave her behind while he tends to a work emergency. His assistant is unimpressed when tasked with finding clothing for the girl. Especially when Daemon offers a bra size estimate and nothing else.

Plus! chef!Laena and her POV on the pantless girl in Daemon's apartment.

🐈 Chapter Four 🐈

Rhaenyra is unimpressed with her new wardrobe. Daemon is TOO impressed in her new underwear. A trip to Macy's is made to buy something more modest- but it ends in his humiliation, too.

Rhaenyra is unfazed and delighted to finally get the collar she has been asking for.

And they both ask google some questions about her.

🐈 Chapter Five 🐈

“Have you ever had a bath before?” He asked the girl, who nodded, “When I was a human.”  Oh good. So her last memory of water was hopefully a positive one.  “Do you want a bath now?” He asked, but her eyes narrowed like it was a trap.  “No.” She said, firmly.  “Human’s take baths, Rhaenyra.” He said, equally firm.  She brightened considerably, “Oh—so we’d take one together?”  “No. Definitely not.”  She was back to glaring. “Why not?”  His mouth opened and closed, “It’s inappropriate.”  Still glaring, “Why?”  How could he possibly explain this to her?  “It’s something people in relationships do.”  She looked nonplussed, “We’re in a relationship. I’m your pet.”  “It’s—people who don’t have a sexual relationship don’t bathe together, Rhaenyra.”  She smiled, “Okay—so we’ll have sex first!”  “No.” He insisted. 

🐈 Chapter Six 🐈

Day two with his Rhaenyra. Humanity is returning to her brain at last, she is still a handful but she is one who remembers where she came from.

Or, rather, who her father is.

It's someone Daemon knows too. Sort of. Because they are technically brothers.

🐈 Chapter Seven 🐈

“Rhaenyra.” He hissed, only to get a sleepy. “Hmmm?” In response.  “Did you pretend to be asleep just to get out of wearing clothes?” He asked, almost aghast.  He felt her shift, tilting her head so she could shower his chest in kisses.  “That isn’t an answer.” He said firmly.  “Don’t be mad at me,” she pleaded, followed by,  “It isn’t my fault that it worked.”  He snorted. “I’m not mad at you.” He said, and he meant it—he was mad at himself for falling for it.  He sighed, stroking her soft hair and enjoying how warm she was. How could he possibly be mad at that? “Goodnight, kitten.” He said, as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.  He was almost looking forward to the morning. To spending more time with her. God he really was fucked.  But as long as he didn’t actually fuck her it was fine.  Or, that was what he told himself—it helped him sleep at night.

🐈 Chapter Eight 🐈

Daemon's maid comes to tidy things and ends up dirtying someone's mind in the process. Rhaenyra might have hissed at the vacuum cleaner and her offer to help change the sheets went unaccepted when she refused to stop sitting on the sheets.

Meanwhile, Daemon's dick is very confused. It isn't helped by Rhaenyra's incessant texting of her new discoveries (and photos) found while googling human cream.

🐈 Chapter Nine 🐈

“I want kittens.” She told Daemon, pouting up at him from her place on the floor. He was nearby—on the couch—on his laptop—ignoring her.  The jerk.  Sometimes she mourned the days where she could show her displeasure by peeing on things. She knew that was inappropriate human adult behavior but ugh. How else was she supposed to train him? “Daemon.” She reached out, tickling the bottom of his foot to get his attention and giggling as he jerked and swore, laptop slipping onto the cushion beside him.  Good.  “I want kittens.” She repeated now that she had his attention. The ones surrounding her at that moment obviously didn’t count. They were from the rescue, under her 24/7 at home care given their small size and age. It was a responsibility she was soon granted, given the creature's obvious ease around her, no matter what background they came from. But they weren’t hers.  Daemon shook his head. “You are enough for me, kitten, I can’t handle another.” He said.  That was their deal—she could foster kittens but not adopt any. Not yet. But obviously, she wasn’t talking about real kittens. She huffed, turning back to the fluffy tabby that had crawled onto her chest. It butted against her breast and wailed. She sighed apologetically, “Sorry, I can’t make cream like daddy does.”  Daemon made a strangled noise behind her, whether to the reference to cream or to him being a daddy, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t really care. She was distracted, stroking the kitten that nuzzled more insistently against the little nub that protruded from the printed cotton of her bra.  I can’t make cream like daddy does, yet. She thought to herself.  Maybe soon, though.

those give you a taste but as i said, the whole thing is on ao3!

comments mean a lot as do likes and reblogs :)

💕🐈 Read on Ao3  🐈💕

[prettymuchteddy]

My next chapter be like:

Rhaenyra: not doing great

Ser Criston: head empty *hair beautifully flowing in the wind*

Ser Brynden: not getting paid enough for this

Alicent: screaming, crying

Gwayne: one step away from committing regicide

Mysaria: sipping wine while watching everything go to hell

Daemon: loving the drama

Literally everyone else in the room: 😶

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Muña (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.

Warnings: Daemon haunting the narrative. Smut. Body image issues, self-esteem issues. Tully! Reader (Reddish undertone hair) Implied mommy issues. Vaginal sex. Breeding kink

A/N: I got no explanation for this. Might end up writing a part 2 if this does well. Pt 2

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” One of your guards announces. You get up from your seat, a wave of nausea already beginning to make herself known. You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

“Open them.” You order, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable encounter. You can’t bar him entrance to what is his home too, despite him not visiting in years. “Tell him to leave the dragon there. I’ll send it some food.”

The guard bows and exits the room. One of your companions, Lady Whent, starts to pace the hall. She fears what your husband coming here might mean for you. The rumors said he had loudly proclaimed he would deal with you himself.

Your choice to keep the Riverlands out of the war effort is controversial, but predictable. Surely, no one in their right mind thought you would aid your husband install his Queen. Not even him. Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm. Yet again, no one would have called Daemon Targaryen the epitome of saneness.

You go sit on your throne, placing your embroidery aside. Your tenants are happy enough that you don’t hold court as often as the other lords. And when they are not, they still refuse to bring their problems to you unless absolutely necessary. No one wants to burden their poor lady more.

You wish they did. The days would seem less empty that way, rotting away in this castle, your house’s sigil mocking you from every corner. Family, Duty, Honor, they had promised you. None had come.

The guard comes back. You remain sitting on your throne, the one you hardly use. You intend to receive your husband from a position of power, not allow him to cower you. But when you look at the man next to the guard, your breath catches.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

��Lady Tully.” He says, taking a deep bow. Very respectful, which would make you doubt his relation to your husband were it not for the fact he shares his silver hair.

“Prince… Aemond.” You say, looking at his face. It’s your best guess as to his identity, considering he has a green banner and an eye patch. He wears all black, the color of House Targaryen. You stand up, and curtsy.

“My lady.”

“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”

“I know.” He answers, lips twitching into a smirk. You find nothing humorous about it, but you do not dare voice it. You do not understand what he is doing here, if not chasing after Daemon. “I understand your people… Resent him.”

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. No matter how he towers over you, no matter how menacing and mean his features seem. He is no Daemon Targaryen, this green boy. Your husband is the only man you had truly feared. “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”

You gulp. You wish you were less easy to intimidate.

“We do?”

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. The tales of his prowess have been overly exaggerated. And I do not think you are too keen on bowing to Rhaenyra, considering your marriage will be annulled.” A pair of his fingers pluck a stray curl from your up do, twirling it between his fingers. The slightly copperish undertones of it glint under the candlelight.

The threat looms in the air, uncontested by you. Both Prince Aemond and you know that Queen Rhaenyra would be dissolving your marriage as you speak, were it not for the fact that your husband and her need your lands and men for her war. Annulment in exchange for your life would be a much less cruel punishment than whatever they are cooking.

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, that you will aid your new sovereign and your ex-husband in their war. But you won’t leave your people to their tender care. With the privileged position your lands have, they are also in the privileged position to be amongst the first to burn.

You are not so craven as to save your life in exchange for the ones of your subjects. Hence, neutrality. Hoping it will spare you. All of you.

“Do you think I want to still be married to him? After all this?” It is not enough, you see it now. With the green banner inside your hall, with the one eyed prince himself sent to rally you behind their cause. Neutrality won’t save you. You need to resist Daemon, not just sit praying he won’t attack you. The Seven know he has no such qualms.

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

Tasting freedom on the tip of your tongue for the first time in years, you smile back.

YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.

How could you be, when he had practically begged for entrance to your bed? He wanted you, and the thought of that was as thrilling as it was foreign. You hadn't broken your marriage vows ever since you took them. No man had dared voice interest, considering who your husband was.

Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.

When you had seen Aemond, you weren’t planning to, either. He was your good nephew, Daemon’s family. It was utterly scandalous, yet here you were.

You weren’t too sure how you had ended up into this predicament, though. One second the two of you had been making plans, your Lord Commander eager to be at his service, and the next, Aemond was crowding you against a wall and kissing you with unparalleled hunger. Your doubts had been quieted by his warm hands and eager mouth, as he forced you to writhe on his arms and try to divest him of his clothes. Perhaps he had carried you to your room then. You can’t remember, you just hope no one saw you.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.

You don’t have the heart to tell him Daemon and you have only gone to bed together once. The night of your wedding.

You stay silent. His hand slides over your stomach, down to your mound. A single, long finger, slips through your folds and starts to rub circles on your pearl.

“Did my uncle ever make you peak?” Aemond asks you, still rubbing those maddening circles. You can’t think. All that is on your mind is a cloud of pleasure, warm and shameful. You shouldn’t be in bed with Daemon’s nephew. Nor should you be breaking your vows.

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

“I asked you a question.”

“No.” You tell him, closing your eyes. Your face burns with your shame. Perhaps it is the embarrassment at your husband hating your bed so much he never visited It any longer, or perhaps it is the fact that you are breaking a vow you had really believed in. But Aemond doesn’t seem to like it, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder in an attempt to relax you.

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

The way he says it startles you. Dark, possessive. As if he doesn’t intend to let you go after one night, as if he intends to keep you.

“I don't belong in your bed.” You moan, trying to resist the pleasure that seems so sinful in your eyes. You clench around him despite it, not wanting him to leave your body. His free hand, the one serving as your pillow, grabs at your hair, the auburn mane as a bracelet in his pale arm. The pain of the tug only heightens your pleasure, making your body soar above the wave that threatens to crash and drag you under on the pools of hedonism.

Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.

But Aemond. Aemond stares at you, proud of how you unravel in his arms. He encourages you to do it, taking great delight in watching you fall apart.

“You do. With your gorgeous hair and your delicious cunt, I won't allow you to go elsewhere. You are a gift from the Mother herself.” He whispers, darkly. “I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

The last word seems to amuse him greatly, for it prompts a chuckle out of him. It’s an odd sound to hear coming from him. He seemed the kind who took himself too seriously. He licks at the shell of your ear, at your face, slobbering all over you.

It should disgust you, yet you can’t help but sigh in his arms. Surrender tastes cloyingly sweet in your mouth.

“I… Married.” You repeat, trying to get Aemond to see reason. You claw at his hands, trying to stop him from bringing you this overwhelming ecstasy that makes your body tense, and your thighs quiver. Your mind feels foggy, your wit reduced to half whimpers and softly spoken words.

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

“I am already married.” You repeat, a bit more firmly. Aemond laughs, rubbing at your pearl once more.

“Shhh, quiet. Quiet, Muña.” He whispers, pulling you to lie under him. He enters you in a single thrust, not giving you a moment of respite. You cry out, nails raking down his back. “I'll kill him. He is just an old man.”

You mutter something. Maybe a reply. Your lips move, incoherent, and you are screaming, the wave of pleasure finally crashing and pulling you under.

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

[stileslittlebanshee]

[alcar-ancalime]

#hotd #houseofthedragon #asoiaf #grrm #rhaenyra #daemon #housetargaryen #humor #gameofthrones https://www.instagram.com/p/CnHZqH4uHdY/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[escespace]

Lucerys: *sneeze*

Laenys: May The Old bless you

Jacaerys: I'm standing right next to him, it's more than blessing enough