#im soooo so happy with how this turned out
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bad-as-me · 18 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
The arrival of Morgott, the Grace-Given
(commission for @magpie-come-east - a piece of Leyndell propaganda that was described in her amazing fic Crucible for Silver. Go give it a read if you haven't yet!)
151 notes · View notes
hemlock-ghost · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Just finished Betwixt the Bramblecracks and this line was so so sweet I love mudd so much
Alt version with leaves that I couldn't figure out if I liked or not:
Tumblr media
140 notes · View notes
michsmeesh · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
🤠🐴
408 notes · View notes
prettybiching · 3 days ago
Text
Okay. Okay.
*deep breaths*
Girl (gn), the gasp I just let out terrified the ghosts in my room.
First and foremost, I love love loveeeee her scenes with the Cargyll brothers always. The way we always see her as *herself*, beyond her ailment, beyond her concerns of putting up an act, both as a Hightower daughter and/or a Targaryen wife. She's just herself, without being worried that she's disappointing Otto or Daemon.
And the way she's so playful with Erryk 😭😭 it made me sob because it was probably the first time in a long time that she was able to be that happy and cheerful, pulling pranks on a friend that sees her for who she is! (I don't even want to think about the fact that the last time she experienced something like this was probably in old town w gwayne when they were children)
I love the way you portray Otto's relationship with the reader because he's not black and white with his motives, only using his daughter to raise his House's standing. Rather, he's a complex character with layers, he's still a father - albeit a shitty one at that.
He loves his daughter, in his own twisted way. How he ensures that she's not having a fit before dropping the baby bomb on her. He worries for her, knows her ticks. But it's the way he uses his love and knowledge regarding her to get his own way and to get the reaction he wants out of her that's the most twisted.
Also, I love how we're seeing mc slowly but surely starting to stand up for herself. WE LOVE GROWTH IM SO PROUD OF HER, I COULD CRY.
Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.
Honestly speaking, I was one of the few that voted for reader to prioritise herself and not go after either gwayne or daemon but ohh!!! I loved loved loved this scene.
Her realising that she's going to have to get used to not having gwayne at every turn and stopping herself. Ugh, my heart hurts.
ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING MAD AT MY GIRL FOR NOT BEING THERE WHEN YOU DEGRADED HER THE LAST TIME AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!!!!
Her telling him to speak what he wants and not twist his words is soooo real. YES GIRLL SET IT STRAIGHT WE DONT WANT EXTRA HEADACHES IN OUR LIVES!!
I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3
Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.
"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."
prettybiching.exe has stopped responding. Please try again later.
Nahhh I can't do this fam, good bye. I'm going to touch some grass.
Good night. Au revoir. Author, I love you. Thank you for blessing me with your brain and words. Please never stop <3
(ps I'd love to be added to the taglist, please and thanks!)
Tormented Spirit | 7
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat
Tumblr media
Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.
He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.
"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."
Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.
"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.
Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"
"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"
"HOPSCOTCH!"
A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.
"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.
You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."
Erryk's face only contorts further.
"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."
In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.
"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."
He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."
You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."
Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."
You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.
He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."
You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.
He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"
He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.
You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"
Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"
Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"
"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."
You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."
Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."
"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"
Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."
"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.
"Say what?" you knit your brows.
Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."
Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.
You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"
"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."
Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"
Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."
You feel bile rise up your throat.
"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."
You shake your head, and gather your skirts.
"As has the prince."
Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.
As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.
You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.
Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"
You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"
"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."
"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."
Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"
"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."
He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."
You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"
"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.
Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"
Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"
You stare blankly at him.
He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"
You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."
Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.
You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.
"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"
You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."
Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."
Your jaw clenches.
"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."
You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"
He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."
You whip your head to him and pull away.
Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.
"W-what?"
He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."
You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.
"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."
Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.
You try to take his hand, but he slips away.
"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.
Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.
"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.
You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"
"Perhaps you should sit down first."
You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.
"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.
You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.
"Princess, please, slow down," one says.
You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.
"Princess."
You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.
You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.
Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.
It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.
You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."
He stares at you wordlessly.
You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.
He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."
You nod, "I know."
"Go to him," he says softly.
"I-"
"Go to him!" he snaps.
You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.
Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.
"If it is your command, I shall obey."
He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."
You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."
Daemon does not move.
"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."
It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.
You stare.
"You do not want to go to him?"
Your lips part.
He raises his brows.
"I... I do."
Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.
The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.
"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.
Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.
The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.
Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"
Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.
"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.
He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.
"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."
He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."
"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.
Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.
Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"
His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."
"I'm fine."
"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.
You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."
You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"
"No."
You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,
"This is glass."
"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"
Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."
You pull your head back, "on accident?"
"On purpose," he tilts his head.
You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"
He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."
You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.
It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."
"..."
"You were not there."
You do not tear your gaze from his injury.
He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"
You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"
Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.
You continue wrapping up his hand.
"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.
"Why?"
His brows furrow.
"Why was I being a bitch?"
"..."
You spare him a quick glace.
He pulls his head back, "... what?"
"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"
His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?
You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.
Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?
You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."
Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.
"How do you feel?"
He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.
"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."
He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.
You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."
His eyes meet yours.
"I am here to care and comfort you."
He leans back, taken by the thought.
You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."
His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."
You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.
"I don't-"
"Daemon."
He stills.
You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.
He feels himself getting hard.
"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.
Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.
You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"
"I..." he starts.
You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.
"...wanted you to come to my tent."
You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."
"I want you."
You nod, "I will tend to you—"
Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.
He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.
Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.
You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."
He hums, nipping your flesh in response.
You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"
He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.
"Please, Daemon, wait-"
"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"
Your breath hitches as he sinks down.
"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"
"I- that's not-"
"Do you or do you not?"
"I... I do—"
You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.
He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.
You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.
Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.
Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.
You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.
Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.
"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.
You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.
He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.
Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.
At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.
His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.
"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.
He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.
You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.
"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."
You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."
Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."
He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.
"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."
You begin to grit your teeth.
"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.
It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.
He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.
You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.
You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.
Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"
You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."
Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.
The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."
You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."
Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"
You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"
He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"
You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"
Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."
You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"
His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.
"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."
His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"
"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."
When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.
Your heart races as he takes your hand.
"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."
You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."
He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.
"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."
He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.
He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.
"Daemon."
He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.
You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"
"I will stay."
You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."
He frowns, wiping your tears.
When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.
"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.
He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."
254 notes · View notes
mokutone · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i wanted to see what a piece would look like if i finished it in my three main mediums, pencil, ink, and watercolor (+colored pencils) >:*)
#my art#naruto#yamato#yamato tenzo#tenzō#kakashi#kakayama#image desc in alt text#okay now to talk shop. SO. i did these in the order theyre presented#which means that the pencil was done first#and by the time i got to the watercolor id drawn this same picture quite a few times#so if the quality seems to improve thats more than likely a matter of repetition and the benefit of past foresight or whatever#like yamatos shin is too small in the first picture.#and i noticeably lengthened it in following pictures. i also shortened kakashis thigh a little bit#yamatos torso looks really long but thats partially because he's slid back a little bit—his flack jacket is up high and you can see#it gapping at his shoulder#but ultimately that doesnt make the anatomical weirdness completely forgiveable so if i drew this again id do it differently probably#THAT SAID IM STILL SOOOO HAPPY WITH HOW THESE TURNED OUT#drawing the same picture over and over and over again? kind of great actually. i recommend it.#if you want to try doing this and you dont have a lightbox (u dont rlly need one) just like. take one drawing you like#and a blank sheet of paper#and tape it to a window thats getting a LOT of light#and then trace ur old drawing's bare bones (the forms. u know)#and then once you have that down. draw on top of it. or use new materials#it allows you to preserve ur previous drawing also which is great#once i was doing a commission and i realized i got the room i was drawing the characters in backwards#so i just. turned the paper around. put it against the morning window. and traced the now-mirrored image onto a new sheet of paper.#saved SO MUCH TIME LMFAO#the paper on the last picture is different and more yellow in tone so thats why the color is weird there ajxjskhfjahx#anyway happy testostone tuesday to all who celebrate 💚 love you
937 notes · View notes
tapestryundone · 9 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i have a crossover that appeals to me and me ALONE. have art of it that lacks any context because i just made art of it and left it at that and didnt feel like adding dialogue to almost any of it
elaboration under the cut
first img is an approximation at the long quiets mind :] its empty but i think there WOULD be more layers if you dug around. maybe if you walked further into it. but thats the main area! shards of glass bc of that one spectre line hehe. the center area is wood panelled but the resolution in the img makes it a tad hard to see at the size the img is.
in the main area the voices come up to the center area as needed! or just to talk. i think in the event that anyone ever entered tlqs mind they would become EXTREMELY talkative bc itll be their first time really being Perceived without unpleasant circumstances which is VERY exciting for them
most things in tlqs mind would be verrrry very similar to the spaces in between, mostly because thats the truest location hes ever truly known. i have been thinking about different layers that could contain the cabin, though. because the woods and the cabin were both very important locations for him, even if they sucked Majorly
second img is the inner version of tlq :D which like. technically theyre all parts of tlq. but also they can function as separate entities from tlq so i dont think itd be that out there that tlq exists somewhat separately from them all in his own mind. gotta think on some of the logistics more though
4, 5, and 6 are just interactions cus i think its fun. i think its ill advised for visitors to leave that little center area. going past it is putting oneself at risk to become lost in the unending walls of the (mental) long quiet. i dont imagine the voices knew that before so much as it is instinct. the "real" location wasnt something mortals were ever meant to really Be In, so it carries over and makes leaving the center instinctively feel like a very bad idea to just Let Someone Do That
the voice in 4 is hero and the voice in 5 is contrarian
last two are the most stand alone and self explanatory. second to last is the opportunist and paranoid, and last is quiet and opportunist :]
41 notes · View notes
jils-things · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ jaide, it's me! ♡
finally did that meme that was going around awhile back <3 i had to draw all of his cool costumes at some point and this was the perfect theme to do this hehehehe <3
source of their outfits + original image under the cut c:
credits to @/cafekitsune for dividers
Tumblr media Tumblr media
70 notes · View notes
hetaliahater69 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
yes i know its no longer christmas yes i know its already january BUT me and my friends finished & shared our secret santas today, so heres my gift to @hws-lceland who wound up being MY secret santa as well which i thought was the silliest and funnest thing. merry (belated) christmas eirikur :D ilysm and thank you for being such a cool friend heres to a fantastic 2024 for all of us yaaay yippie!!!
104 notes · View notes
mercury-and-scry · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
they're just putting anyone in Hades these days
36 notes · View notes
ennuijpg · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
devotion, divinity, desire: religion in onlyoneof's works
i. ultimate bliss lyrics (2022) // ii. sage mv (2019) // iii. instinct pt. 1 album description (2021) // iv. chrome arts mv (2023) // v. sage lyrics (2019) // vi. angel mv (2020) // vii. tear of god lyrics (2021) // viii. line sun goodness album description (2019)
304 notes · View notes
woosh-floosh · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Working on stickers yay!! Year of the dragon stickers and team kiki vs team bouba splatoon 2 splatfest stickers.
Shop has a tentative release date of mid/late March 🤞
40 notes · View notes
attackedastoria · 1 year ago
Text
For anyone wondering what the embellished version of the prints look like ✨️
Theyre hand-detailed with gold and silver leaf for extra drama!
You can find them here in both embellished and plain prints
58 notes · View notes
bonetrousledbones · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HERE SHE IS my angel the love of my life the woman of my dreams she has So Many Issues
the extra little thingies under the cut:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i wanted to show a bit of my process in this so i left in the lil mini undynes that helped me work out the colors :> also some details u wouldnt normally see and some expressions!
164 notes · View notes
cheriboms · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
doctober day 30: sunset
a pair piece to the first prompt i did !! whole family reading together before bed <3
+alt vers (sans lighting) under the cut :)
Tumblr media
52 notes · View notes
ayyponine · 4 months ago
Text
not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....
#mom wanted to rewatch the movies so we've been going thru them <3#talk about a movie thats just like. grief. i turn into the jamie lee curtis halloween trauma supercut#SORRY..... the visuals are peak like that IS the hp vibe to ME and i am BLOWN AWAY this movie was made in 2004 it feels ahead of its time#the first two are so whimsical and magical enrapturing and this movie is like. a well worn cardigan. this feels 2011 cozycore to me#sorry but the introduction of lupin becoming a comforting trusted guardian type of figure AND the dementors representing hollow depression#this 13 yr old whos been kept in the dark on so many things being extra vulnerable prey to them bc of the severe trauma#but getting lessons on how to withstand that creeping dread.. through happy memories... still bonding w lupin increasngly ouagh...#the grief between them both over james and lily. also btw ofc defense against the dark arts being fighting yr fears through laughter. aaaaaa#and then sirius. black. im. i know we meme on the twelve years of it! in azkaban! but as a bitch whos now closer to those characters in age#and can appreciate and understand them obv more than i could when i was. a tween. that just hits like ok shit. VALID#so valid and real to see the child of your friends you knew at that age but who DIED and then see the friend who betrayed them#to see like the best of BOTH of them mirrored and living on in him and be like yknow what???? you WILL be protected frm that same fate#hoooo the briefest moment where harry might hope things will turn out okay. w sirius' name being cleared and peter having to explain himself#and sirius being like hey i get it if you want to stay w your family that is fine but. if you wanna move in w me...#(harry relaying this to hermione later as well. dreaming of a place fr just the two of them somewhere in the countryside#somewhere..... sirius might see the sky..... bc he thinks he would like that after all those years locked up do not even touch me rn.......)#only fr everything to turn to shit two friends fighting w deadly force. the chance to set this right slipping off into the night.#a million dementors descending relentlessly until utter exhaustion and certain death. some strange salvation? fight for a second chance?#but then still havign to say goodbye when they only just GOT this. and everything still being so. god. and lupin having to leave as well.#the thought of sirius also WANTING that guardian type connection but being forced to live in 1. a cave barely living more freely than before#2. then being confined to the stuffy somber abusive home he ran away from as a teen w that portrait still up there and everything.. bitch...#oh man the way i KNOW when we get to ootp (my favourite) its gonna leave me blasted into a million little pieces#the way i know shit like the knowing wink the entirety of the wall tapestry room scene and of course nice one james is gonna DESTROY me..#dont even talk to me abt that dark turn at the end of gof and how everything after gets soooo. god. w everything just getting destroyed and.#i cant even think abt it i cant even talk about it. wah#i dont care btw that they aged those guys up undermining how insanely young these people died. perfect casting fr the remaining marauders ok
8 notes · View notes
evanescentsun · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
aaaaaahhhhhHHHHHHHHHHH
15 notes · View notes