#some of these are old dont worry about it

[just-some-random-blogger]

you get me. you GET me. you get me so much i screamed when you laid down what you got. UGHHH. literally i hope to write more fics that will interest you because UGHHHHH you just get meeeeeeee its sooo goodddd

i also i too use girl as gender neutral sLAYYY.

I'm so happy you love the cargyll twins 🥺🫶🫶

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.

this is it. this is literally how i envisioned their dynamic to be yknow. when you commented on this once before i leapedddddd for joy it LEAPED really. you get me. you get meeee.

she's just a girl when she's with them. just a girl who loves to swim and pick flowers. did you actually sob cos of the scene with erryk? 🫂🫂🫂 but also... love that for me HAHAHAH.

(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)

dw. i like to think the sibs snuck out to go for a swim for the last time before she was married to daemon. to cheer her up yknow. alicent was there too <3

I love the way you portray Otto's relationship [...]

THISSSSSSSS. THISSSS. YOU JUST GET MEEEE T_T SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. I literally JUST ranted about this to my friend that everyone is like 'daemon is trying' WHAT ABOUT OTTO I WROTE HIM THAT WAY TOO AND YOU JUST 😫😫😫😫😫 FUCKK YOU GETTT MEEEEEe

[...] 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.

YOURE SOOOOOO ON POINT WITH EVERYTHING LITERALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY i thought it was really important to expound on this because DAEMON IS LITERALLY OTTO TO HER!!! BUT IN A WAY BETTER BECAUSE AT LEAST DAEMON IS CAPABLE OF SOME SORT OF AFFECTION. she's like 'ok my dad treats me this way, ergo my husband treating me this way is fine' !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is so important fr fr because we accept the love we think we deserve.

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.

💯 no notes

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.

THIS!!!!!! ok im so fucking excited i just want to tell you BUT ALL WILL BE REVEALED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER IVE BEEN BUILDING THIS SHIT UP FOR SO LONG IM SO FUCKING GLAD YOU CAUGHT ON IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY.

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.

<3 but also..... who's gonna tell her (not me)

Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.

ur so me fr bestie

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.

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯 AS YOU SHOULD. AS YOU FUCKING SHOULD. I WAS AND AM STILL ACTUALLY VERY GAGGED THAT THAT POLL WOUND UP THAT WAY. SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING TOTALITARIANISM BECAUSE THIS DEMOCRACY AINT WORKING FOR ME CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN COMFORT DAD BOI DAEMON???????? YUCKKK i mean i get it but DAMNNNN?????

her whole arc with gwayne was rough. spolier? i dont plan on bringing him back at all so </3 if he comes back well 😬😬 shits about to go down

ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT,

HAHAHHAHAHHAHAH YOU LIKE ME FR FR FR I TOO CALL HIM RAT HAHAHAHAH AND EVERYONE ELSE THAT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF

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!!!!

😬 yeesh fr.

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!!

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯 AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU GET ME YOU DONT MISSSSSSSS

I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3

dw. she'll find out it wasnt a dream.............. eventually

Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.

UR LITERALLY ME FRRR HAHAHHAHHAHA

EVEN THE LINE YOU QUOTEDDDD i feared people might overlook it BUT YOU SAW. YOU GET ME. AND THATS MORE THAN ENOUGH.

I am so honored to have gotten your lovely reblog. i will 100% tag you my love. i'm glad you like my fic and my brain and my words. i love you so much. literally if there is something you want to see in this fic, just tell me and i'll make it happen for you fr fr.

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

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."

[melkyt]

You know a modern au that would hit with the angst and I eat up everytime?

17~ 18 year old Luffy working way to many jobs under the table, not all of them always paying him but he always does it with a smile and works constantly, so he is dead tired most of the time but doesn't let it show.

He needs this money to helo his brothers or his friends, Luffy who tries to help anyone he can even if he is going through this

Law who meets this Luffy, but doesnt notice that the kid is tired, he just assumes that its just another brat that never qorked a day in his life,

Maybe Luffy is coming hom from Sanji's who is only rich in name and the big empty house he can't afford if it wasnt paid off.

Still that means he is n the more well off neighborhoods with a gated community.

Law who is there as a tutor or on-call doctor for those that can afford it just assumes Luffy is yet another rich brat. Them running into each other ans hanging out on their daily walks.

Luffy who doesn't say anything about himself and lets Law assume whatever he wants.

While Law slowly tells what his life is like and that he is working this late to pay of college and medical bills

Luffy says he can relate but doesn't elaborate and they reach the station before Law can question it. Luffy never gets on the bus/train so Law did also assume he lived in the neighboorhood but the more they got to know each other, the less likely that seemed.

Law getting curious and prying without actually. That slow journey of Law finding out that Luffy is preatty much homeless, and surviving as best he can on the streets

There is some drama as Luffy isnt about to make Law worry. He likes that Law doesnt look at him like some other who pitty him, or try to help when there isnt anything they can do that he isnt already doing. So he likes their talks and goes back even if he doesnt have a reason to be there. Luffy dodging all of Law's questions with really bad lies

Until Law pretends to go home and tails Luffy to a bar, Makino's bar where he often crashes after hanging out between jobs.

Law being concerned about this kid, maybe it reminds him when he was in the same situation. Law trying to help only to make things worse for Luffy.

Them arguing that its nit Law's business and Luffy would have asked for help if he needed it! Luffy daying sure he might like Traffy alot but thats why he's not going to be a burden

The silence heavy around the bar.

Luffy swearing and leaving because he has to go to work, telling Law not to follow him.

Law who is not just going to give up like that, but also not sure what to say, sending cryptic messages that ask Luffy to meet him at some spot.

Luffy who works two shifts that night, and gets the message way too late, and it rains. He checks his phone only to see a message from Law

"Ill be waiting as long as it takes"

Luffy running to meet him, there us a dramatic confession. They are both soaked and the kiss is messy and they dont know what this is but that they are going to try.

Then Law ofc gets sick and thats how Luffy finds out where he lives, and starts crashing there and eventually they start dating without actually putting a name to the relationship.

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 18

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

just in case this is triggering for any readers it is outright said that mikhal fully abandoned his wife as bait for boothill!! i dont really know how to tag it but please keep that in mind if thats difficult for you to process!! you can skip up untli boothill asks about susheng!!

Boothill’s body was always made for tough work - he grew up working hard then his time as a bounty hunter simply reinforced the innate strength he felt he always had. He had no idea how much he missed the solid weight of a gun in his hand, spinning the metal around his finger as he brought extra ammo and hides a second piece before making his way out the door. 

He knows that Mikhal is currently his best bet. He’s passing the man’s house anyway on the way back up to town, leisurely strolling up the porch as he pounds his fist against the wooden door. 

Boothill knows that there’s no reason to think that the man would open up for him that easily. Doing so was basically a death sentence right now but that wasn’t going to stop him from getting the answers he needed. He barely lets a second go by before he’s knocking on the door roughly again, his forearm adding to the loud thudding as he knocks insistently. 

“Open your damn door Mikhal,” Boothill hisses. 

“You’re just makin’ things worse for yourself the longer you make me wait. I ain’t in the habit of killin’ women and children but I might just have to make an exception for your sweet little Geryll there. She’s the one who instigated this,” he threatens. 

He knocks on the door again, dangerously close to splintering the wood. 

“Khashin, you’re in there too aren’tcha? Don’t worry - I won’t be hurtin’ you or your baby. Y’all ain’t got a quarrel with me. I know if that dimwit of a husband of yours talked to you he wouldn’t have done anything like this. You’re far too good for him - if anythin’ happens I’d be more than willin’ to take you in if you needed me to.” 

At no response he steps back from the door, looking to the window that sat at the side. The curtains were drawn, definitely a smart move if they wanted to avoid someone looking in but he also knew the back door didn’t have such protection. 

Boothill easily jumps the railing, gun in hand as he begins to circle the foundation of the home. He knew that with there being no upstairs, it’d be very easy to pin down whoever was hiding inside to the basement. There was no way he’d be letting them run out on him, not without giving him the answers he needed. 

It’s a little scary how easily he falls back into old habits, the adrenaline pumping through his veins making butterflies of excitement dance around in his stomach. Hunting down scum of the galaxy and putting an end to some lowlife’s existence never ceased to excite him and now, like this, he gets the sense that he’s slipping back into that headspace. 

He makes his way to the back door, pulling out his knife to cut through the screen and let himself in. They neglected to pull the glass over the door, heavy boots trailing mud into the usually pristine home. Listening carefully, he makes sure that there are no signs of life before continuing his canvas through the home, gun held steady in front of him as he softens his breath to pay attention to any, and everything in the dark rooms. 

He makes it back around to the front of the house, seeing the missing keys and shoes. They must have made a run for it as soon as he threatened Mikhal’s life, running his fingers through his hair as he kicked at a wall. 

“Dammit!” 

He holsters his gun as he realises that he won’t be getting anything, opening the door to the basement just as he hears a soft sob. The noise stopped as soon as it started, his ears catching the unsteady breathing of someone desperately trying to hide their tears. 

He makes a quick loop of the home again, realising that he neglected to check a storage closet that was far too small for a single person to be in. Still, he opens the door anyway, jaw dropping at the sight. 

“Khashin! Get out here.” 

He pulls the very pregnant woman up from the floor despite the initial recoil from his touch. He leads her to a couch, sitting her down and pouring a glass of water for her. He kneels next to her, gun on the table to avoid her worrying about him shooting her. 

Her tears are never ending, Boothill slowly realising that she must have been left here as a diversion. 

“How long has it been?” he asks her softly, trying to move things along to find you. 

“I - I don’t know,” she cries, head in her hands. 

“Mikhal - he said he knew you wouldn’t hurt me, that I’d be safe - but I don’t - I don’t know why he thought to shove me in there.”

“I need you to think Khashin. How long has it been? If you can’t tell me that, can you at least tell me where you think he went? Geryll?” he tries. 

“They didn’t tell me. Geryll ran over after telling me she was going to go see you then she and Mikhal started talking about how they needed to go collect their money. Mikhal told me to stay in there until you came here,” she manages through tears, hands going to her stomach. 

“I think he’s going to leave me. They’re both going to leave,” she cries, shaking her head in disbelief. 

Boothill scoffs, reaching for the landline to dial Dan Heng’s number. 

“You know Susheng, right? The egg farmers up the way? I’m callin’ one of them to come down here, keep an eye on you. Don’t worry about any of that right now or else your little baby will come out frownin’.” 

He can’t help but feel bad for her, knowing that her marriage was crumbling around her as he talked to Dan Heng. Unfortunately, now was not the time for him to comfort her, knowing that every minute he spent here was another that you were getting further away from him. 

He leaves before Dan Heng gets there, making the drive into town that he’s done millions of times at this point. He’s glad that his car isn’t anything fancy, easily blending in with the others as he parks it somewhere nondescript. His hunt continues on foot, heading right to that fateful lounge that started it all. 

It’s far too early in the day for the doors to be open but he knows that staff are already milling about looking through the window innocuously to gather quick headcounts. Sampo might be amongst the crowd, helping prepare things for the day and wherever he was, you should be near. 

 He’s disappointed not to see the man, beginning to make his way down to where he found you being kidnapped. If Sampo was smart he wouldn’t be housing you anywhere near there after it being compromised by Boothill himself. However, he might be able to find some clues as to where you went there, sneaking into the housing nearby for the staff. He breaks into a few rooms deemed empty, trying to figure out who might have the best chance of knowing where Sampo put you. 

Sampo doesn’t trust easily, something Boothill is cursing as he realises nobody has anything that would get him nearer to you. He’d probably have to break into Sampo’s home himself, unsure of where to head as he makes his way back to his car to regroup. He keeps himself parallel to the main road, not wanting to be easily spotted as he starts to pass the lounge again. 

The doors open and out walks Sampo, looking up to the sky to admire the weather before walking off. Boothill immediately begins tailing him, thanking his good fortune as he follows the man through what seems like an incredibly convoluted path. It’s almost as though Sampo knew he was being tailed but when the two of them reach an abandoned looking cabin and Sampo doesn’t even falter in entering the code to the building. Boothill’s able to make out the code from the positioning of his fingers, taking a mental note of it as he starts planning your rescue. 

He knew if he acted too quickly he’d run the risk of scaring off the businessman, forcing him to move up whatever plans he had for you. He’d have to give it some time, trick him into thinking that his plan was foolproof. He wishes he could just step in right now, take you with him but a poorly thought out plan - while his specialty - would just put you in jeopardy. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧───  ｡ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆｡ﾟ ───✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You kept track of time by marking it on your wall, being given a pencil and notebook to entertain yourself. Your guards were kind enough to at least put the radio on for you, keeping the awkward silences to a minimum as at least one of them had to follow you around. Whoever wasn’t actively with you would usually stand at the front door - the only way to leave the house - or patrol around outside to ensure there was nobody there. Sampo would visit with your meals, trying to make small talk with you and update you on the overall progress being made. 

You wanted to ask about Boothill, knowing that it wouldn’t be hard for him to get that information but also worried about what he would tell you. You decided that ignorance was bliss, picking at your meal as Sampo gives you the most recent update on your upcoming trip. 

“So there’s nothing I can say to you to change your mind, is there?” you ask for the nth time, convinced that maybe you could annoy him into letting you go. 

“Nope. Sorry. I need the money you make me and now that I had to pay out that money to those siblings I really need it back. I had plans for that cash.” 

You curse internally, knowing that Geryll sold you out but hearing it from Sampo’s mouth made it sting again. 

“I am going to have to figure out what the new pay split is going to be. Just while I work on making back the money I lost.” 

“I don’t want to hear about this,” you sigh, taking your meal back to your room. 

“If you’re going to try to pretend to be my friend, at least bring me something I enjoy eating.”

Sampo leaves shortly thereafter, leaving you to entertain yourself in your bedroom. You knew that one of the guards was going to stand outside the window, making sure you didn’t slip out as the other stayed on the outside of your door. They were doing this to at least give you some privacy, something you were thankful for. If you knew them better you’d be inclined to hold a conversation with them, feeling extraordinarily bored. You pull out one of the books left for you on a shelf, finding your page as you let the words distract you. 

You’re about to fall asleep, moon high in the sky when the feeling of the book slipping out of your hand jerks you awake. You put it back on the bedside table, about to lay down when a soft thud startles you. You look at the book, expecting to see it on the ground but when you realise that it isn’t you sit up in your bed. 

You wish you had a phone in your room, worried that something got into the cabin. You didn’t have any weapons or any way of getting help due to Sampo keeping your presence here a secret, quietly making your way towards the window just to see the guard outside slumped against the ground. You bite back a noise of fear, covering your mouth as you start to head towards the closet to hide. Another thud sounds just right outside your door, making you jump as it opens. 

You’re about to scream, eyes wide in fear as a figure steps into the room, falling to your knees when you’re faced with the barrel of a gun. 

[lobster-lover]

late night bettystuffs i think

[mamawasatesttube]

superboy/robin: world's finest three #1

now hold on a minute. hey kon? why do you know about the flying graysons? kon that's way before your time. kon you are less than a year old and they have been in the ground for over a decade. was there a cadmus scientist who just felt really strongly about aerialists or did kon go on some kind of anachronistic wikipedia binge? kon i need answers

[fallenclan]

re-reading this current arc, there's a moment that caught my eye. in pt. 2 of moon 256(?), darkstone says to honeysong something along the lines of 'you're lucky you get to be here [ in the glow cave ], most warriors don't get the chance too'. which reminded me how the ( canon ) Clans as a whole lost the tradition of apprentices traveling/visiting the moonstone when they left the forest territories. there's a whole article about this 'lost tradition' on the warrior's website ( i only know this because i googled it to fact check, lmaoo ). and in that article, it describes why it was important - mainly to reinforce awe in starclan and their warrior ancestors - and so that apprentices get a chance to travel beyond their Clan and interact with non-Clan cats.

i find this really interesting; especially when crafting my own lore + traditions. so i want to wonder with you, would fallenclan have followed this tradition? would scorchstar have ever enforced this ( would her mother have told this tradition among her tales of the Clans )? or would another leader/cat have done so? would anything change lore-wise if fallenclan/other clans did this tradition?

on a side note, something really nostalgic to me is when leaders would seek guidance from the moon-stone. have any leaders gone to the glow cave by themselves or with others to seek guidance with the stars? i feel like maplestar would have, with silverbelly. <3

Also also, this is the second time i've sent an ask right after you answer someone else's, i don't mean to pounce on ya like that LMAOO i-ve been typing for like 10 minutes plss

- 🍂

good question!!! to be honest, this isn't something I've given a lot of thought to, but I think generally it's just the medicine cats that speak to Starclan--the leaders get to as well, but it's only when they receive their lives that they do so. if they really need to ask Starclan for guidance, the medicine cat does so on their behalf, though it isn't a common thing. Starclan really is just a bunch of dead cats, they aren't all-knowing, but sometimes they do get stuff that they'll pass along--warnings in the form of omens, etc. They have their own lives in Starclan and they aren't there solely to help out the living.

If it was a practice in Boughclan/Tuftclan, Scorchstar didn't know about it. Apprentices probably don't go to speak to Starclan--unless they sneak out to do so, which is possible but not really likely, as it's. I don't want to say Taboo to speak to Starclan without permission, but Frowned Upon maybe? like I said, I haven't thought about this much at all, I probably should get on that XD

[xxplastic-cubexx]

hiiii i know you said you're not very good with headcanons but maybe... just maybe.... since everyone is having a conversation about inappropriate use of mutations... you could give us a few nsft hcs.... please.....

you cant just ask me for my nsft hcs anon you knooww im not good at these.. but i was daydreamin during class this morning so you can have LIKE. SOME semblance of something. below the cut (╯▽╰ ;; )

i dont think i need to jot down roleplay is integral to their sex life but i will anyway. we'll double this review with bdsm/bondage Also being significant (if that not just being an extension of the Roleplay bit. or rather their roleplay is a part of their bdsm--)

charles is the more vocal one between the two of them (but im greedy and despite erik Trying to keep himself under control i imagine he gets a lil more vocal the closer he is to coming anyway...)

Speaking Of Inappropriate Use Of Mutations we already talked Extensively about erik's but how does the crowd feel about telepathic threesomes. its like an h2o molecule but horny. bonus points for scenarios where charles gets to watch himself fuck erik first-class-emma-frost style (Double Bonus Points who's to say movieverse!cherik couldnt have been inspod from that moment huh)

More Inappropriate Use Of Charles' Mutation charles can control how fast/hard erik rides/fucks him

when charles orgasms he (mostly) unintentionally causes erik's to feel more intense alongside his own (bonus points charles can negate the feelings of the refractory period if they're up for another immediate round)

strip chess. its even sexier because in chess sometimes it's the best strategy to sacrifice a piece to advance (the question now is is the objective to win the game or to get naked faster ... curious ... could be both and win in the psychological-warfare department or something...)

eriks a lot more tender than probably expected. i know hes a lover at heart .... (but he will be rougher if that's what charles is looking for that night)

Such Scenarios usually being on nights charles is collared and gets to be eriks 'pet' complete with liberal pulling of the collar and name calling (or is it 'petname' calling Please Laugh)

on that note aftercare is Extensive: they're triple and quadruple checking to make sure the other one's alright, especially if their powers were involved

[swiftfootedachilles]

I just want a place with you, I just want a place

dragon eyes by Adrienne Lenker

[lokh]

every day im reminded that though my parents may have wanted a dog they clearly did not want to take care of a dog

[bucket-puns]

Knight Zwei West Ishmael on- your house actually, pay up.

[lunarharp]

Very important conferences.

[moregraceful]

that entire ken rosenthal piece on the padres and manny machado is like oh ok so you are really for real racist and the athletic is just gonna let you say that with your full chest on main. so glad this is where my $1 subscription is going to....like you don't get to call tatis jr a hoe unless you are in the fujo trenches i'm sorry you're not making some important point you are just a racist windbag who hates black and brown people. i'm joining the war on manny machado on the side of manny machado sweet christ

[alacryty]

Apprrrriiiiiillllllll O'NEIL!!!!! ⚾💥⭐

Yo there's no baseball bat emoji just cricket wth!!

[dysaniadisorder]

ok of all fictional characters like. being a girl Actually woulda fixed Sparrow Oak Garcia. like most characters, you know, its a little joke. but straight up if Sparrow transitioned none of that stuff woulda happened to her kids. she Would Not have treated them that way

[casdeans-pie]

I spent the last couple of days with my best friend that I've known for 13 years - he's always trated me like his little sister and to me he's basically my brother

I love him to bits

We went to an old castle together today and we were heckling the ghost in the 'haunted room' and he kept touching everything that had a No Touching sign on it asdfhjkljgdkl

When we're together there's only one braincell between us

It was kinda refreshing to take a break from the internet for the weekend tbh - but I'm happy to be back !

[theygender]

Apparently my job incorrectly changed my state on my W4 without my knowledge or consent last year and now I owe a LOT of money in unpaid state taxes since they weren't withholding them from my paycheck like they were supposed to 😭