#I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THISSSSSSSS

[bibleofficial]

losing my mind i was 8 minutes early to this vet appointment & it’s been 28 since my appointment was supposed to start like

[franollie]

I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THISSSSSSSS RAHHHHHHHHHHHH

[mustfindcreativeusername]

Granada Homes Season 2 thoughts

(again, straight from the notepad app)

--

1. COPP (7 aug)

Well i didn't recognise the title at first bc i read the story in Romanian and the translation was. Different than i would've expected. But yeah. I think i said "oh i did read this" three or four times.

The guy was... creepy. And i did not enjoy the telling-funny-stories bit. I'm usually not impressed with "and this is the ending of a very funny story!" *Everybody laughs* bits in tv shows/movies, i can only remember one time** where this sort of thing made me laugh. But... Yeah. Were we supposed to find him funny then? Miss Hunter did. Anyway, it just seemed extra creepy to me.

I think my favourite part was Holmes talking about the dangers of remote rural areas. I mean. He's right.

**The pool story from Doctor Who S4Ep10 Midnight. Here it is, 1:02

2. GREE (8 aug)

Watson being shocked that Holmes has a brother:))

The quiet bit in the club was actually a bit creepy. Unsettling at least.

Also i think Watson was trying to guess which one was Mycroft.

Was that one child tripping unscripted? Seemed so.

I loved the train scenes. Oh and i loved the scene where that guy falls out and Holmes has too phisically hold back both Sophia and Watson. Poor Watson seemed genuinely horrified even tho the guy was a murderer.

Bonus:

Me: Look!! They're holding hands!!

Roommate: Uh. A man just died?

Me: And? :D

3. NORW (9 aug)

Oo i enjoyed this one.

I had no idea what was gonna happen, did not read the original story.

Obviously the premise was pretty cool, i kinda called that he faked his death to blame the boy but still.

I love seeing Holmes in disguise.

Also, the part with Watson coaxing him to eat something?? Bro when i tell you i teared up. He was so gentle with him. *Massive sigh* I love them sm...

Also when Holmes motioned for that housekeeper to go away? He almost killed both of us in one go- i choked on air, my roommate choked on her drink. He's so drmatic, he's a danger to society (affectionate)

Also both me and my roommate wanted to kick Lestrade in the face at some point.

Yeah

4. RESI (10 aug)

"What in the magnus archives is going on?"

Twas a nightmare.

I liked this episode. Fun fact: i am currently midway thru this story in the books. So. Pretty cool. Yea.

Man i was so proud of Watson for deducing stuff about Holmes and then Holmes was like nahh actually you're very wrong

(I did guess he was tapping to a song tho, it was pretty obvious)

...i must say. The... Vocabulary in this episode. ...interesting. 👀

Does Holmes really not know where he keeps his papers?

Poor Mrs Hudson tho :((

I actually saw that *enters the room* *screams* scene a couple years ago, but i didn't know what adaptation it was from.

5. REDH (11 aug)

Mhmmmmmhmhm i dont like thissssssss

I know this story very well and i did not. Expect Moriarty.

I mean it makes sense bc the next one is the final problem (mmmmm😞😞) but i didn't quite put two and two together

[Also i kinda expected them to be lazier and just introduce him at the beginning of FINA]

Umm but yeah about the episode. As i said, i knew the story, one of my favourites since i was a child.

I really loved Watson this episode. He gets to explain Holmes' deductions again. Oh and the part where he was trying not to laugh while the client talked about the letter A.

I guess both him and Holmes lost it at "artificial kneecaps"

Yet another episode where someone doubts Holmes' abilities. (Tho this one was slightly less annoying about it)

"Amateur"

Hm

At least Watson jumped to correct him

Oh and i think my brain had an error at the end when Holmes lights Watson's cigarette while speaking french. Like i had subtitles but i have no idea what he said.

Roommate didn't catch it either ("for the best, i choose to believe he was telling Watson he loves him:))" )

Also: Holmes at the concert looked like a cat. A very pleased cat

Also also: If i ever jump over a couch to get someone to stay with me and it's not a life-or-death situation, consider me absolutely smitten.

But.. yk.. that's just me 🤷

6. FINA (11 aug)

Well it certainly got my heart pounding

The first five minutes or so were actually the worst i think

I mean to say, he looked more in control of himself at the end than in those first 5 minutes. Like i legit almost started crying seeing him scramble for his life like that. Horrible

Mrs Hudson wanting to celebrate...... Stop..

Did NOT enjoy looking at Watson through that sniper's lens. (+ I had Bbc Sherlock flashbacks)

Honestly about the whole middle part.. i don't know what i can say that has not been said. Them in the dark, with only a candle, the "will you come with me" part, Watson rushing to the train and looking so worried bc he wasn't seeing Holmes

*Sigh*

And the fuckin letter. The fact that Holmes knew it had to be a trick but he didn't wanna give it away so he just. Waved him off so hurriedly.

Yea yea run along we'll meet up in a bit I'm not even gonna look at you go that's how normal this goodbye is (I'm probably never gonna see you again)

Oh and the way he rushed back when it clicked.

That's probably the first time in ~a week they were apart. And the one time he leaves him on his own...

Yeaaaah

The fight was silly. And kinda. Anticlimactic. I mean at least make Moriarty have a gun.

(He'd allow Holmes to write the letter while holding him at gunpoint. The letter is done. He approaches to execute him. Holmes lunges at him to get the gun. They struggle. The gun falls, so now they're just beating each other up. Aaand then they fall.)

But. Yeah. Poor Watson. It was a very restrained reaction but still. It was so sad to see him cry.

Oh and as if that was not enough, Watson's "this is the last time I'm telling you a story about Holmes" bit was double damage bc.. yeah. This is the last time we see this guy talk about Sherlock. This guy being the actor but still.

(Ngl it reminded me of the Doctor Who regeneration scenes)

[just-some-random-blogger]

CRISTI YOU BET YOUR FUCKIN ASS I HAT TO READ THE FIRST PART BEFORE READING THE OTHER. UHM HELLO????? THIS IS SO DELICIOUS

Forgive me if I'm wrong but you said you wanted to write dialogue like me????? GIRLLLLLL WHY WHEN YOU WRITE DIALOGUE LIKE THISSSSSSSS. FUCKKKKK HELLO???????

I also went through the comments and reblogs and I saw you said you wanted a complicated siblings relationship and GORLLL. gwORL YOU DELIVERED HELLO? ITS LIKE BITING INTO ICE ANGSTY ITS A NEEDLE TO THE HEART I LOVE IT YOU HAD ME SCREAMINGHHHH but also I'm very dramatic BUT ALSO ITS JUST SO DELICIOUS HELLO????????

Right i ***may*** requote way too much again but I JUST CANT HELP MYSELF I just had pancakes before reading this and this was like dessert after you know LMAO

Summary: Courting. Daemon’s version.

GURL I WISH I COULD MAKE SUMMARIES AS GOOD AS YOU WHAT IS THAT DAMN BOOM CRACKLE SNAP WHAT THEBFUCK

And just as if it were one of his models, he had demanded perfect symmetry in all aspects.

I wish I had unlimited image uses bcUse *Jerry crying meme* that was beautiful. (Fuck you viserys Im glad aegon smashed your ye old Lego set 😗✌️)

EDIT: NVM HERES THE MEME IT STILL FIT RAHHHHH

An even split of your mother’s jewels.

Lol they broke each necklace in half HAHAAHAHHAHA on earring each HAHAHAHA

Daemon and Rhaenyra race on their dragons [...] You are not sure which you resent more. Rhaenyra, for dragging you along with the promise of tending to Syrax or Daemon for interrupting your time with your sister.

This. I started to hurt here. I feel her. Fuck all of y'all. I'm going to projectile CRY. Yearning for both of them while simultaneously loathing them. family 😃

It seemed as if all you did was fight now. The occasion where you did not was rare, and so, intrusion on it was not welcome.

*TAPS MIC* FUCK YOU DAEMON 'ROGUE PRINCE' TARGARYEN THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME LIKE YOU 👎👎👎🍅🍅🍅

Despite your best attempts at keeping yourself calm, you can’t help but feel rage bubble up in your throat. Rage, and a deep sense of failure.

............. Is she me 😃✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️ it's fine

You had heard even Laena Velaryon, younger than you, had managed to claim a dragon. Was this why your father had chosen Rhaenyra to be heir and not you?

The pain of things out of your control 😃✌️ it's fine 😗✌️💥📸 cheeese

Go where you couldn’t follow, and made you watch them go.

Fuck you cristi. This is a personal vendetta against me.

Your nose scrunches up, and you jump off the railing just in time to avoid your uncle’s ruffling of your hair.

*POWERS UP MEGAPHONE* 🗣️ 📣 ONCE AGAIN I AM SAYING FUCK YOU TO DAEMON 'WHITE HAIRED RAT' TARGARYEN

“No.” Your answer it’s harsh, and perhaps a bit rude, but this feels as if they are targedly mocking you. Daemon raises his eyebrows, looking on the edge of apologizing, if such a thing it’s even possible for him. Rhaenyra, more used to your moods, just rolls her eyes.

HER RESPONSES MAKE MY HEART TWINGE. FUCK YOU DAEMON. FUCK YOU RHAENYRA. FUCK ALL OF YALL. *PLAYS MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE* NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME

“Pouty?” Daemon tilts your chin up with two fingers. You jerk your head away, glaring daggers at him.

Your just jealous cos you dont have lips white man 🧐🙄✋

Riverlander, just as handsome and with a clear infatuation with your sister.

🗣️IS🗣️NOTHING🗣️SACRED🗣️ WHAT ABOUT ME WHY IS IT ALWAYS HER

“I figured your meeting with the Princess would not go as planned.” He explains, as he helps you out of your cloak and jewelry. Ser Harwin helps you put on some protective gear before handing you a wooden sword.

*INSERT GREYS ANATOMY SOUND* SO PICK ME. CHOOSE ME. LOVE ME. HARWINNNNNN PLEASE HARWINNNNNN HARSINNNN HARISNNNN 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Not so much for self-defense, but as a way to curb your more violent impulses. When you feel like you might throttle Rhaenyra or perhaps smother her with a pillow, you come to him.

WHY DOES SHE GET BOTH OF THEM EHY DOES SHE GET BOTH OF THEM

You understand why men enjoy battle so much, finally.

... No. Yuck.

They even called her the Realm’s delight, for Gods’s sake.

And she's dragonless? I would do 10 lines of coke everyday

“You tell me.” You pant, a little out of breath. It was something you frequently wondered yourself, but never about him.

GAGGED. CLOCKED. WAIT NO I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC. SUDDENLY I LOVE THAT HES IN LOVE SITH RHAENYRA 👏AND👏HE👏CANT👏HAVE👏HER👏PURR👏 PARALLELS WE LOVE TO SEE IT

You loved teasing him about it. For such a big man, he could sure get sheepish.

💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥 LET ME IN PLEASE IM TRYNA LET HIM IN WINK WINK

“Fair.” Ser Harwin chuckled, raising his wooden sword again. You liked that he was very good-humored. He didn't mind your teasing. “But think of the bright side. If someone is after you, they are really after you.”

I will break acid into your face. KSSJJS OK TOO FAR I LOVE 5HEM ACTUALLY WE LOVE TO SEE IT. HE WAS CLOCKED AND HE WAS LIKE yah I was lmao HAHHAHHA WE LOVE TO SEEIT

“Wise words for one so young.”

Oh my gosh shut the fuck up this just in old man is jealous of the youth and thinks everything is their fault

“Poor form. And a poor trainer. Leave us.”

“Leave us, boy.” Daemon’s tone turns harsher. Channeling all the authority he has as a Prince. Now, your sworn shield can’t refuse. It’s an order, not a suggestion. But Harwin remains where he is, looking to you for approval.

RIP HARWIN YOU WOULD HAVE LOVED DIVORCE GETTING CUSTODY AND CROSSFIT

“Commendable.” He gives a slow clap. “Very loyal guard dog, you have there.”

??????

“If this was a real fight, you would be dead.” His tone is smug. You cannot take it, and so, bang your wooden sword against his hip.

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ number fuckinG 1: you are a 🤢MAN🤢 numbER FUCKKJG 2: you are a SEASONED WARRIOR number fucking 3: YOU ARE A BIG OAF number fucking 4: HEMLOCK IN YOUR EAR GO❗

Your uncle laughs, coldly. He is angry too, you realize. In that messy way he gets, sometimes. Teeth bared in a cocky grin, still high on the thrill of riding Caraxes and chasing Rhaenyra.

.FUCK SHIT FUCK I SEE IT I HEARD IT I IMAGINED IT SO CLEARLY

AHHHH DAEMOOOOONNNNNN FUCK YOU

Despite your best attempts, you are no match for him. He is a seasoned warrior. He has been at war for the last couple of years. No amount of anger can match his technique. Soon, he has you disarmed and cornered, Dark Sister at your throat.

IM SAYIN. 🗣️IVE🗣️BEEN🗣️SAYIN🗣️ ..... Also .... S-ss-sword-

“Not bad. I might even bruise.”

*INSERT THAT MEME WHERE THERES THIS WOMAN WHO HAS A PERSONS LIPS SNATCHHHHEDD LIKE LITERALLY*

His tone drips condescension, but there is something odd going on in his face. His pupils are blown, his chest is heaving, and there is no way it’s with exertion. While you were panting and begging for a respite, Daemon hadn’t even worked up a sweat. “You need a real sword.”

MAN DOWN BADDDDDDD MAN DOWNNNNN

“Perhaps. But then Rhaenyra gets one, and this is only mine.”

MY HEART ACTUALLY HURT. YOU HURTED ME. YOU HURTER. I HURTED. IM HURTED I HATE IT HERE

“Is that why you want a husband? To have someone only yours?” Daemon suddenly is much closer, twirling the end of your braid between his fingers.

Wishing every daemon targaryen a very much shut the fuck up. GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY HAIR

“That’s none of your concern.”

LOUDER FOR THE FOUR EYED MAN IN THE FRONT(y'know cuz matt smith has glasses [THIS AINT ABOUT YOU THO BOO I FUCKING LOVE YOU LETS FUCK])

You storm inside the Red Keep, scowling. Finally, it seemed, Daemon and Rhaenyra had managed to run you off the castle’s grounds.

CRYING THIS. THIS IS A KICK TO THE TEETH. A BOOT ON THE RIBS. FUCK

[...] visiting orphaned children in King’s Landing. That activity is one you and Ser Harwin particularly enjoy. It fills you with joy when you get to run around and play in the mud with your stern guard having no choice but to tag along. You have even caught him smiling when little girls ask to braid his hair.

🥺🥺🥺💔💔💔💔😫😫😫 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. HARWIN COME HOME. COME HOME RIGHT NOW. COME HOME TO MEEEEEE OSPSPSPSSPSPSS

Until one night, you find a jeweled sword resting on your bed.

Ngl I misread this and thought it was a single jewel and I was like ???? Is that supposed to impress me???????

“Almost didn’t recognize you, either. No scandal in nearly a month?” [...] “You must be getting old.”

RATTATATTTAATATTA SHOTS FIRERREDEEEEDDD

“Youthfulness is in the spirit.”

Yuck. 🫵old🫵man🫵in🫵denial🫵

You resist the urge to walk faster if only to see him struggle.

YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE RESISTEDDDDD WHA THE FUCK

“Ah, that makes sense.” You slow down your steps because while you enjoy angering your uncle, you would rather not anger him too much. “You have the spirit of a child.”

PFFFTTTTF HAHAHAHHAHH DOUBLE CLOCKEDD SHE REALLY THREW PAINT AT HIM RAHHHHH. NO NO NO NO FEARRR ANGER HIM SOME MORE 👹👹👹👹🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥

“How many of Rhaenyra’s necklaces you had to melt to get the sword.”

</3 I know she said that as a joke. As a tease. But 💔💔💔💔 if that were me I would cry. All bark and not bite I'm a cry baby fuck shit fuck I hate you all

You cannot help but wonder if it’s you who was prompted him to wreak such havoc. The idea of having such power over him, that an offhanded comment can cause such a reaction, makes something tingle in your stomach.

The fact she knows she has that ✨awra✨ that's were she and I are different. I'm too wrapped up in my self loathing 😃😃😃😃🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

In time, you had come to understand that it wasn’t like she had a choice, either.

Alicent the could never make me hate you 💔

“I was getting lonely.” You say, softly. The admission surprises even you. “You are with Rhaenyra all the time.”

My heart breaks my heart hurts

Don’t go where I can’t follow, you wish to say. Don’t take her from me. My other half. But you don’t speak the words aloud, from fear of him repeating your confession. You don’t want to beg Rhaenyra for affection, not when you have been competing with her all your life.

I will be fucking sending you my therapy bill. Fuck all y'all I need to inject vit c and pretend its heroin

“It's not like I care.”

💔its🥲 not 🤡like🤪i🙄care💔

“The curse of the younger brother.”

❓❓❓❓❓❓AM I SUPPOSED TO FUCKING KNKW WHAT THAT MEANS

“I beg your pardon?”

SEE 🫵🫵🫵 SEE

“We could fly off tonight. Go to the Free cities, marry. No one would care.” His tone is fervent, urgent. Pleading with you. You keep quiet, and so does he. The silence stretches between the two of you. Your mind races.

I KNOW WHAT HE MEANS BUT NO ONE WOULD CARE CUTS DEEP. I HATE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I WANT YOU. I DESPISE YOU.

“That’s the point, yes.” Daemon speaks slowly, as if explaining to someone particularly daft. Or innocent. “I’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”

HES NASTYYYY I HATE HIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The part where you can choose anyone didn't get copied but I was like

YOU YOU CRETIN I CHOOSE YOU

Fuck this fic has me like

Daemon is nasty I hate him I want him Rhaenyra is my archnemesis I miss her too ughhhhh stunning

Hi! For the bingo: Daemon Targaryen & courting?

Mirror (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Warnings: Targaryen reader. Mature situations. Mature language. A bit of angst, incest, and innocence kink.

Summary: Courting. Daemon’s version.

A/N: Everyone who writes Daemon fics has tackled this trope. I missed oneshots so bad.

There was little King Viserys wouldn’t do for his lovely daughters. During your childhood, there were two of everything. Two Septas, two dolls, two play daggers. For as long as you have been alive, there have been efforts made to make things fair.

No doubt, it was the legacy of your mother. Your father was nice enough, but you doubted he had the foresight to try to avoid sibling rivalry. Queen Aemma’s influence had been greatly missed after her passing.

It had been then when the problems between you and Rhaenyra had started. Your relationship had gotten even more rocky when she was named heir. The situation had turned so bad, even your father had noticed. And just as if it were one of his models, he had demanded perfect symmetry in all aspects.

The same rooms. Same number of servants. Same number of dresses you were allowed to own. An even split of your mother’s jewels.

Unfortunately, there were things not even King Viserys could fix. This was one of them, you thought, as you sat on one of the rails of the dragon pit.

Daemon and Rhaenyra race on their dragons in the open sky right above you. They shriek in laughter and shout things in High Valyrian. You are not sure which you resent more. Rhaenyra, for dragging you along with the promise of tending to Syrax or Daemon for interrupting your time with your sister.

It seemed as if all you did was fight now. The occasion where you did not was rare, and so, intrusion on it was not welcome. But at the same time, you can’t help but wonder if Rhaenyra is playing a cruel trick on you, dragging you here so you can see what you are missing.

Despite your best attempts at keeping yourself calm, you can’t help but feel rage bubble up in your throat. Rage, and a deep sense of failure. You had heard even Laena Velaryon, younger than you, had managed to claim a dragon. Was this why your father had chosen Rhaenyra to be heir and not you?

It felt cruel, and hurtful. Not only did your uncle always pay more attention to Rhaenyra, but now you had to watch them do things you couldn’t do. Go where you couldn’t follow, and made you watch them go.

They dismount a few feet away from you. With them, comes all the hassle and fretting of the dragon keepers. Caraxes always takes a long time to settle after going flying, and so, you relax in your seat. You hope enough time might go by, they forget about your existence and you can slip out unnoticed. It would save you the embarrassment of having to hear them flirt and tell you everything as if you were a child.

No luck for you today, though. You smell it before you see it. Sweat, leather and the unmistakable stink of dragon. Your nose scrunches up, and you jump off the railing just in time to avoid your uncle’s ruffling of your hair.

Rhaenyra snickers a little. Despite the dragon ride, she looks as royal and regal as ever. It’s a feat you admire and despise greatly.

“Trying to sneak up on me?” You frown. You don’t need any further embarrassing. Being startled and falling into the mud would have been just the cherry on top.

Daemon ignores you, tugging on your braid.

“No dragon yet?”

“No.” Your answer it’s harsh, and perhaps a bit rude, but this feels as if they are targedly mocking you. Daemon raises his eyebrows, looking on the edge of apologizing, if such a thing it’s even possible for him. Rhaenyra, more used to your moods, just rolls her eyes.

“Let her be, Kepa.” She whispers, as if you are not there. “She is always like this.”

“Pouty?” Daemon tilts your chin up with two fingers. You jerk your head away, glaring daggers at him.

“Bitter.” Rhaenyra speaks, and you glare at her instead. You do not understand why she is so mean, lately. Her being named heir has not done anything good for your relationship, but you had tried your best to play nice. She didn’t seem to care.

“I can hear both of you.” You complain, but they just laugh. Angrily, you stomp off.

You feel too jittery to go back to your chambers. It would make you more angry, if you were to go inside the castle so soon. It’s too pleasant of a day to be spent cooped up at the Red Keep. Too preoccupied with your thoughts, you don’t notice someone is following you.

Your feet lead you to the training yard. It makes sense, in a way. This is where you have been coming the past few months when the castle got too small to house both you and Rhaenyra.

Early in the morning as it is, the yard is empty. Save for your sworn shield, of course. While Rhaenyra had gotten Ser Criston Cole, handsome and dornish, you had gotten Ser Harwin Strong. Riverlander, just as handsome and with a clear infatuation with your sister.

But kind. Unbearably so.

“I figured your meeting with the Princess would not go as planned.” He explains, as he helps you out of your cloak and jewelry. Ser Harwin helps you put on some protective gear before handing you a wooden sword.

He has been teaching you swordplay for the past few months. Not so much for self-defense, but as a way to curb your more violent impulses. When you feel like you might throttle Rhaenyra or perhaps smother her with a pillow, you come to him.

It's good. You have not learned a lot, but there is something utterly satisfying about hitting someone as hard as you can. With wooden swords and against Ser Harwin, you know there is no real possibility of hurting him. He is much taller and stronger than you.

There is also something satisfying about blocking his blows, too. In the smacking sound, in the effort it takes. You understand why men enjoy battle so much, finally. When you walk away, you are always sore and bruised, but your mind is finally quiet.

“I have just resigned myself to an arranged marriage.” You say to Ser Harwin, as you block his sword with great effort. “All the men in the court are panting after her, it’s no use.”

And you do think you are on the right, this time. Too often, you feel overshadowed by her, and seeing your uncle and Ser Harwin on the same day just confirms it. You have no chance at finding true love, not when every man here only has eyes for her.

You didn’t necessarily were a romantic person, but a bit of attention would be nice. Feeling desired and admired in the way Rhaenyra was. They even called her the Realm’s delight, for Gods’s sake.

“Are they after her? Or her tittle?” Ser Harwin tries to disarm you. You hit harder, a low blow aimed to his ribs that he avoids with little effort.

“You tell me.” You pant, a little out of breath. It was something you frequently wondered yourself, but never about him. Ser Harwin clearly wasn’t hoping to be King. What he wanted was something much more carnal. You had seen the way his eyes trailed Rhaenyra’s figure when they were together in a room. He appreciated her personality, perhaps, but he clearly wanted to bed her.

You loved teasing him about it. For such a big man, he could sure get sheepish.

“Fair.” Ser Harwin chuckled, raising his wooden sword again. You liked that he was very good-humored. He didn't mind your teasing. “But think of the bright side. If someone is after you, they are really after you.”

You frowned. He had a point, you supposed. If a man were about to pursue you, it might be because you are a Targaryen, or because of your valyrian looks. But never because of the Iron Throne. With baby Aegon existence, you are certain that whatever your place in the succession line is, plenty of people would have to die for you to even have a weak claim to it.

“Wise words for one so young.” The voice startles both of you. As if you were children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, you freeze. Ser Harwin even drops his wooden sword. “You should heed your knight, niece.”

“Uncle.” You answer, casually. You know Daemon. If he senses weakness, he is going to pounce. While Ser Harwin has given away already that you are not exactly doing something your father approves off, you are not going to have your Uncle thinking he has something to blackmail you with.

Daemon ignores you, choosing to attack the weak link. He tuts at Harwin.

“Poor form. And a poor trainer. Leave us.”

Harwin hesitates. He is not supposed to leave you alone and unprotected. Much less, with your uncle. Daemon it’s not known for his trustworthiness.

“With all due respect, Prince Daemon, I am not allowed…”

“Leave us, boy.” Daemon’s tone turns harsher. Channeling all the authority he has as a Prince. Now, your sworn shield can’t refuse. It’s an order, not a suggestion. But Harwin remains where he is, looking to you for approval.

Your uncle’s eyes flash dangerously at the defiance. You look at Harwin and nod. He leaves.

You twirl your wooden sword. Daemon smirks.

“Commendable.” He gives a slow clap. “Very loyal guard dog, you have there.”

“You could learn a thing or two.” You answer, vicious. The human equivalent of an animal biting down and refusing to release its jaws. By the brief look of hurt on his face, you have touched a nerve.

But soon, his expression smooths down into a vicious little smile, to match yours.

“So this is where you have been disappearing to.”

“So?” You ask, all nonchalance.

“Feisty.” Your uncle kicks Harwin’s discarded wooden sword away and unsheathes his. Whatever this is, it’s long overdone, you realize. You are bouncing with pent-up anger and frustration.

Daemon strikes at you, hard. The flat side of his sword hits your ribs. It hurts even with the protections Harwin makes you wear, a dull sting on your torso.

“If this was a real fight, you would be dead.” His tone is smug. You cannot take it, and so, bang your wooden sword against his hip.

“And you would be unable to walk.”

Your uncle laughs, coldly. He is angry too, you realize. In that messy way he gets, sometimes. Teeth bared in a cocky grin, still high on the thrill of riding Caraxes and chasing Rhaenyra.

Despite your best attempts, you are no match for him. He is a seasoned warrior. He has been at war for the last couple of years. No amount of anger can match his technique. Soon, he has you disarmed and cornered, Dark Sister at your throat.

“Not bad. I might even bruise.” His tone drips condescension, but there is something odd going on in his face. His pupils are blown, his chest is heaving, and there is no way it’s with exertion. While you were panting and begging for a respite, Daemon hadn’t even worked up a sweat. “You need a real sword.”

“Perhaps. But then Rhaenyra gets one, and this is only mine.” It’s more honest than you would like, but you are still trying to decipherate what exactly he is feeling. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy. You feel confused.

“Is that why you want a husband? To have someone only yours?” Daemon suddenly is much closer, twirling the end of your braid between his fingers.

You scoff, and push him away.

“That’s none of your concern.”

You storm inside the Red Keep, scowling. Finally, it seemed, Daemon and Rhaenyra had managed to run you off the castle’s grounds.

The encounter is barely given a second thought. You decide to keep yourself busy for the rest of Daemon’s visit to King’s Landing. Knowing him, he is due to get exiled soon. There is no point in worrying about it.

You fill up your days with activities, be it harassing some tutors, your Septa, or even visiting orphaned children in King’s Landing. That activity is one you and Ser Harwin particularly enjoy. It fills you with joy when you get to run around and play in the mud with your stern guard having no choice but to tag along. You have even caught him smiling when little girls ask to braid his hair.

Things are surprisingly calm. You would have expected your uncle to be involved in a scandal by now. Yet, there are no rumors of him bedding three whores in one sitting, nor there is an irate Otto Hightower asking your father to send him away.

Until one night, you find a jeweled sword resting on your bed. It’s small, but you can tell from the sharpness of the blade that it is made from Valyrian steel. You start training with it the next day, getting used to its weight. If Ser Harwin thinks anything of your sudden interest in doing more than hitting him, he doesn’t show it.

You are not surprised to find your Uncle waiting for you after your morning practice. At first glance, the courtyard is as empty as when you began your training. Despite it, you can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching.

Just as you are entering the Red Keep, sweaty and ready for a bath, Daemon steps out from the shadows.

“You look so grown up in riding attire.” He says, from beneath some trees. “Almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Almost didn’t recognize you, either. No scandal in nearly a month?” You start to loosen your braid, accelerating the process of getting into your bath as you walk. There is nothing you want more than to just soak in hot water and let the warmth wash away your soreness. “You must be getting old.”

“Youthfulness is in the spirit.” Daemons hurries to reach you, falling into step right beside you. You resist the urge to walk faster if only to see him struggle. Power play. Always. Push, and pull, and don’t let anyone else get the upper hand.

“Ah, that makes sense.” You slow down your steps because while you enjoy angering your uncle, you would rather not anger him too much. “You have the spirit of a child.”

“I’ll take that as the highest of compliments.” Daemon ruffles your hair, uncaring that’s matted in sweat. You make a face. “Did you like your gift?”

“Depends.” You give him a feral little grin. Your uncle looks at you, as if deciding whether he wants to bite or not. Knowing him as you do, you know he can’t stand the intrigue.

“On what?”

“How many of Rhaenyra’s necklaces you had to melt to get the sword.”

“That blade is worth at least five of her necklaces.” Daemon boasts. You give him an unimpressed look.

“Huh. Then I like it.”

“Not love it?”

“It wasn’t ten.” And with a cheeky grin, you are off towards your chambers.

You don’t see Daemon for a few days. You hear him, unfortunately. He is everywhere at once, yet never wherever you are. You know of him in the shape of rumors and hearsay.

When you go fetch yourself a tea tray in the kitchen, your uncle is in the middle of the servants. “I heard last night he was with four whores!” As you ask a maid about your sister’s whereabouts, he is her chosen companion. “Princess Rhaenyra went out to race your uncle, Princess.” And of course, when your father complains, Daemon is in the midst of it. “He insulted Otto and then walked out of the council meeting.”

Despite your wishes, your uncle starts to occupy more of your mind’s space than you would like. You keep wondering what he is up to, each rumor more outrageous than the last. You cannot help but wonder if it’s you who was prompted him to wreak such havoc. The idea of having such power over him, that an offhanded comment can cause such a reaction, makes something tingle in your stomach.

You find him next in the gardens. Alicent and Rhaenyra are fighting again, a nasty thing that soon turns into a screaming match. That's a dynamic you have stayed out of, since you had memory. While Alicent and Rhaenyra were friends, you never felt anything towards Alicent besides a slight sympathy. She seemed nice enough, but she was not your friend.

Rhaenyra and you loved in the same way, you see. Possessive, harsh. As Princesses, you never learned to share. You wanted your person to be only yours. Alicent was Rhenyra’s, and so, you stepped aside.

When she married your father, you weren’t exactly pleased. But you had the emotional detachment Rhenyra lacked, being too close to the situation. In time, you had come to understand that it wasn’t like she had a choice, either.

So, it wasn’t like you were going to break with tradition now. To avoid their screams, you had decided to pace the gardens. Daemon seemed to have the same idea because you find him sitting on a bench with a book in his hands.

“Came to join me?” He asks, voice smooth like honey.

“Rather to escape the screeching.” You sit by his side, curiously peering at the book he holds.

“A Cautionary Tale For Young Girls.” Daemon’s smirk is the only thing that gives him away, that, and the fact that the book is written in High Valyrian. “Most illuminating read. You should try it.”

You laugh, despite yourself. His lips twitch into a more genuine smile, less full of smugness and bravado.

“I was getting lonely.” You say, softly. The admission surprises even you. “You are with Rhaenyra all the time.”

Don’t go where I can’t follow, you wish to say. Don’t take her from me. My other half. But you don’t speak the words aloud, from fear of him repeating your confession. You don’t want to beg Rhaenyra for affection, not when you have been competing with her all your life.

Daemon makes a face, as if pained of what he will say next. He seems wary of hurting you. You wonder if that means he cares for you, in his own twisted way. It’s not often he worries about what others think.

“She has a dragon.” No matter how gentle the tone, it hurts anyway.

“I miss her. Not you.” But it’s a lie. You know it’s a bad pattern, and you shouldn’t miss him, but you are so used to competing for affection that Daemon has become both your rival and the one you crave. The weeks without him have been lonely and taxing. No matter if it was you who pushed him away and didn’t care to reach out after.

“I remember you two were close.” Something must change in your face because your uncle reaches toward you, gently squeezing your arm.

“We used to be. She is just… So angry, all the time. And has all these new people. Admires, prospects…” You feel like a fool. There is a deep sense of unfulfillment and being wronged yet at the same time, you know you are being unreasonable. This was always going to happen. You can’t share the Iron Throne, and she has always been your father’s favorite. Rhaenyra was always going to be the heir.

“Which one am I?”

You shrug.

“It's not like I care.” But you do. You do care, despite your best sense. Because you want to be his favorite. You have always wanted to be someone’s favorite, but Daemon has a special brand of devotion for those he cares about. You wish you could be counted on that list, lately. By the smile on his face, Daemon can probably tell. “And it's not like before she didn't have things that were only hers.”

"I thought you shared everything.” Your uncle tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

“She has Alicent. Had. Still does.” You know when the time comes, Alicent will be there for Rhaenyra. They are tied together by destiny in ways Rhaenyra and you are not.

“The curse of the younger brother.” With your eyes still closed, his hand gently brushing your hair back, the words do not feel as if they are being spoken aloud. The gardens around you feel muffled, distant. Perhaps it’s the soothing touch, or the deep pang of sadness in your chest, but you do not understand what Daemon means.

“I beg your pardon?” You open your eyes, giving him a confused expression. Not only is he muttering nonsense, your uncle is much closer to you than he was before. Daemon’s forehead is nearly pressed into yours, his thumb now gently rubbing across your jawline.

“Viserys and Rhaenyra are the same.” He explains, tracing your cheekbone next. As if he is keen to learn your face from touch alone, carve it on his mind. It makes you smile slightly. The pain from mourning your innocence is very much still there, but it doesn’t feel like it’s tearing you apart. “Just as you and I are the same.”

“I…” You are not sure of what to answer. Naturally, it makes sense. You can feel it in your bones, but you can’t quite articulate the thought.

Daemon’s thumb presses against your lips in a downward motion, closing them.

“We could fly off tonight. Go to the Free cities, marry. No one would care.” His tone is fervent, urgent. Pleading with you. You keep quiet, and so does he. The silence stretches between the two of you. Your mind races.

Just as your lips flutter behind his thumb to answer the proposal, your uncle speaks again.

“We are free, you and I. But the Iron Throne chains them.”

It’s then you realize it was not a proposition, but rather an explanation of the thoughts you were unable to articulate. And perhaps it’s the sting of rejection or the deep sadness that has taken root on you since the death of your mother, but you cannot keep the words in. They come flowing, tumbling, rushing out of your mouth.

“I want to be a girl forever.” You say to him, starting to tear up. “I am not ready to be a woman.”

You are scared, you realize. No longer are you a girl playing to be a woman, dressing up in your mother’s jewels and dresses. Five years down the line, you will be married. Ten, it will be you who is a mother.

Your uncle gathers you into his arms, painfully soft. You would have never believed Daemon capable of such a tender touch.

“You can’t be innocent forever.”

“Everything is so complicated now. I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

You whisper against his neck. It’s a doomed wish. You know already it’s too late for it. No longer are you an innocent, no longer anything is the same. It will never be.

“Not all changes are bad. There can be pleasure in losing one’s innocence.” Daemon kisses your temple. “And I intend to show it to you.”

That night, the two of you sneak out of the Red Keep.

“I wanted to give you something only yours.” Your uncle says, as he leads you down the Street of Silk. Both of you are wearing rough cloaks, for discretion. You cling to his arm, afraid of getting lost in between the strange sights and smells.

There is so much to see and so much to hear. People laughing in the streets, singing, drunkards and patrons from the brothels mixing. While you are familiar with the streets of King’s Landing, you have never seen them at night. It’s both frightening and exhilarating, watching the city come to life in ways new to you.

There are no children in sight, only adults. The message that Daemon hoped to convey by bringing you here is loud and clear. You are no longer a girl, you are a woman. And so, instead of sleeping soundly in your bed as you have done all your childhood, you get to enjoy the wonders of the night.

The crowd gets even more rowdy as you pass the bigger pleasure houses and walk towards the ones that are at the end of the street. Secluded as they are, they spark your curiosity.

“Where are we going?” You ask your uncle, tugging at his arm. “Inside one of those? Why?”

“They cater to tastes that the rest do not.” Daemon comes to a stop in front of one, and takes off his hood. The woman at the doors takes one look at his hair and quickly ushers you both inside a room.

The room is bare except for a couple of chairs and a bed. You examine everything closely, noting the inferior quality of the furniture. These are not the kinds of chairs you are used to, at the Red Keep. After a while, and only when you notice no one else is hiding inside, you lower your hood. Being overly cautious never hurt anyone, after all.

“What tastes?” You squeeze Daemon’s hand. He gives you a puzzled look. “You said they cater to tastes…”

“You will see.” You are saved from the wait to know what he means by the door opening. Two servants, dressed in little clothing, step inside. Men, near your age. They are completely unique, yet similar. You get the feeling they are not simple servants, even though they serve you and Daemon goblets of wine.

You stare. You do not understand why they are not leaving.

Your uncle steps behind you, to whisper in your ear. His arms circle around your waist.

“Look at them.” He presses a chaste kiss just behind your ear. “Really look.”

So you do. One of the men is tall and strong. Almost wide. All bulging muscles. He has dark hair and light colored eyes. The other man is slightly slender, yet strong either way. He has lighter hair and a much sweeter face. They are both handsome, yet you do not understand what game Daemon could be playing.

“You wanted something only yours.” He mutters, kissing the crown of your head. He perches his chin on top of it. “Most girls, they don’t get to choose whom they lose their innocence to.”

It dawns on you then. He wants you to choose one of the men to… Well. It’s a nice thing to do, but so undeniably Daemon it hurts.

Feeling mischievous, you turn around in his grip.

“And I can choose any of the men in this room?” You smirk. Your uncle’s brows draw together, in disbelief.

“That’s the point, yes.” Daemon speaks slowly, as if explaining to someone particularly daft. Or innocent. “I’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”

“Good.” You smirk, and kiss him. You feel him smirk right back against your mouth.

[bloody-hearts-lane]

Taking Care of The Slashers When They're Sick

(minus jason because. i dont think he gets sick?)

muse version here

Brahms Heelshire

OH you thought he was needy before?

You're hilarious.

He's VERY picky about what kind of soup you make him, and he probably won't even want to eat at all– but you inform him that he NEEDS to, or else he won't start to feel better.

He will NOT eat microwaved soup out of a can. You don't know HOW he knows the difference, even when he's sick and totally delirious, but he will always know.

He'll get extra mopey and sad about things too.

Why aren't you giving him forehead kisses? Or rubbing his back? Or reading to him? How else is he supposed to get better?!

If he thinks he can get away with it, he might pretend to be sick for a day or two longer so he can soak up all the extra attention.

Bo Sinclair

Absolutely the kind of person to pretend that he isn't sick. Unless he's on his death bed, and physically unable to get out of bed? He's FINE, don't TOUCH him.

If you're really worried about it, though, all you have to do is ask him REALLY nicely– maybe throw in some puppy dog eyes– and he can't say no. He'll take it easy for a day, maybe two if he's really bad.

Since you made him stay home, he will expect you to sit with him, though. "What kind of nurse would you be if left me all alone, hmm?"

And, if you wanted to be a little more doting and affectionate, he might not be totally angry about it...

HOWEVER. If he is sick enough that even HE can't lie his way out of it?

You bet your ASS that beneath all that grumpy 'get away from me' bullshit is someone who secretly does NOT want you to go away.

Call it a sick day! Put on a movie that he won't complain about, lower the volume, let him take a nap with his head on your lap.

If you make him soup or something, he'll probably scoff at it, but you bet your ass he'll eat it. Give him a little bit at a time or he'll just make himself feel worse.

Take his temperature if he tells you he's fine, especially if you already know he's sick. He'll grumble, but if you catch him in the lie, he'll concede and chill out for awhile again.

Billy Loomis

Bold of you to assume he gets sick.

Really though, he's probably one of those people that just never gets sick, and it's mildly infuriating.

Unfortunately, that means when he DOES get sick, he probably gets it BAD.

You won't hear from him for a whole day– Stu is probably the one to tell you he's sick, or you come home, and he's wrapped in a pillow caccoon, shaking and burning up and looking like the dead.

He's so out of it that he can barely say anything to you if you do stay to take care of him.

Stu Macher

The SECOND he even gets the SNIFFLES, he cries to you that he's dying.

While you're covering him with a blanket, setting the TV remote close to him, he's grabbing at your shirt and whining, "I'm too young to die like thissssssss."

And heaven forbid he get a stomach bug, or a terrible cold, or anything that makes him feel ACTUALLY miserable.

He will get you in that bed with him, and you will not be getting back up until he feels better.

You better get some good movies lined up, bring some extra fluffy blankets, and make enough soup to feed an army, because not only will he be whiny, and clingy, he will be needy.

The only reason he's so needy, though, is because he loves when you take care of him, and because you LET him get away with being all cute and needy.

Call it a win-win situation.

Carrie White

Carrie is adorable when she gets sick.

It happens so rarely, too, and she usually doesn't get INSANELY sick, so you don't feel too bad about thinking that she's adorable when it does happen.

She probably doesn't want to relax or rest up– she feels bad, leaving the household chores to you, or falling behind on things she wanted to do.

And heaven FORBID she gets sick on a date night or a birthday or a holiday.

You'll have to assure her, multiple times, that you care about her health WAY more than going out; you can always reschedule!

Carrie definitely has the best, most delicious home made chicken soup recipe in the world. She's made it for you before, so you're determined to make it for her when she comes down with something.

Jennifer Check

For awhile, you really only thought she would start getting sick if she wasn't eating for awhile.

That is, until she apparently ate some 'bad meat.'

You get home, and shes somehow waiting for you in your room- it scares the shit out of you for a second, until she sits up, and you realize how awful she looks.

She switches between getting sick, violently, and coming back to wrap herself around you so you can rub her back and kiss her on the forehead. Hope you're not a sympathetic puker.

Complains about everything when she's sick. Soup won't make it better, medicine doesn't help, she can barely sleep– why the fuck shouldn't she be pissed?

Unfortunately, there probably isn't much that you can do to help her out in this situation– it's like the demonic version of food poisoning.

Pet her hair, keep a trash can close by (or stay with her near the bathroom), and don't mind the chills or the sweat.

Hum or sing to her while she curls up into you.

And don't be surprised if she's VERY hungry the second she feels better.

The Man

It's no secret– with you, he is all bark and no bite. and that may be one of the only reasons that he even allows you to see him when he's so sick and vulnerable, but SOMEONE has to take care of the big baby, so it may as well be you.

He's totally miserable, and will make sure you know it.

When you sit next to him to feel his forehead or take his temperature, he bends forward until his head is in your lap and his arms are around your waist and refuses to let go.

The only way he lets go is if you sit and run your fingers through his hair for a bit, and promise that you're just going to get him some medicine and make him some soup.

He'll probably make you promise to come back, and then he'll promise that if he gets you sick, that he'll take care of you, too.

Vincent Sinclair

Unfortunately, he probably won't say anything if he feels sick or starts coming down with something, so you might not even notice right away, if you notice at all.

Depending on how sick he gets, maybe you notice that he's slower or more tired than usual; maybe he's a little weaker, or has shaky fingers.

Either way, you'll have to be upfront about it– he CAN'T work, especially not this hard, if he's getting sick. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Bring him lots of water; he probably needs to be drinking more of it anyway.

Remind that even if he has problems falling asleep, that laying down and resting is extremely beneficial, especially when he's sick.

You could always offer to lay down with him, and see if that helps.

He's probably very worried about getting you sick too, though.

[fafulous]

CHAPTER 5 wut wut wut can we request drabbles? Like SHIIIIIIIIIT WUUU ANDY BUBBA BEBU SWEET DEAR JESUSUSSS. im sorry but the excitement is too muchhhhhh ive been wwaiting for thissssssss (im the one checking eveyday lol) like take ur time do ur thing i mean we understadn u have an actual life outside here and dont worry about writers block i am an MUA msyelf and i know Having a creative block is a bish, but THANKYOU FORT HIS! I just needed this content after the new power over me chapter :,(

Omg bubba!! Thank you for following up everyday and understanding me 😭😭💕

Also, I love you okay 🥺

[jinxietenma]

Even numbers for the Ace Attorney ask!

   forgot to answer thissssssss but thank u erienne i love you so much

2. Favourite case?Farewell my turnabout is GOOD and you are all just COWARDS

4. Favourite prosecutor?Franziska... perfect

6. Favourite victim?I’m not allowing myself any actually important victims so I gotta go with Valerie Hawthorne... please capcom let me meet her

8. Favourite assistant?The original is still the best if you dont like Maya get the FUCK off my blog

10. Favourite quote?Always a hard one... I gotta say “It's only natural for living creatures to fight to protect their own lives. But what makes us human is that we fight for others.” its such an easy quote but its sooo good and also it wraps up the series so well...

12. Least favourite case?Turnabout Bigtop belongs in the GARBAGE

14. Least favourite prosecutor?*griffin mcelroy* Godotboy stinkman!!!!

16. Least favourite victim?I care so little about victims... maybe corrida cause hes a bITCH

18. Least favourite assistant?None of them they are all my precious children.... if i HAD to pick id have to say Kay just because she’s the one I’m the least attached to but god i love them all

20. Least favourite memory of Ace Attorney?Back when i had garbage taste and shipped garbage things skdljgf

22. Maya Fey or Trucy Wright?Maya is too good for this world too pure

24. College Phoenix or Hobo Phoenix?Oh hobonick definetly... feenie kinda drives me nuts tbh like shut UP

26. Ace Attorney or Ace Attorney Investigations?I enjoy ace attorney proper more! running around is too much gameplay for me

28. Ace Attorney trilogy or Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies?OBVIOUSLY orig trig... fuck everybody else I respect you

30. Ema Skye as she is in Rise from the Ashes or Ema Skye as she is in Apollo Justice?Hmmmm this is a hard one but I gotta go with apollo jutice ema... She’s just really interesting and well written and I love her

32. Your opinion on Dai Gyakuten Saiban?God I wish I could play it... I love dgs a lot

34. Do you think Miles Edgeworth should get another Investigation-game or do you think another character deserves a spin-off?Edgeworth has had enough games give me that ema game we were supposed to get blease

36. Do you like where the franchise is heading or did you prefer the atmosphere in the original trilogy?Not to be mean but I think the new games suck ass

38. Capcom suddenly announces that the Ace Attorney franchise has ended for good! Your reaction?I’d be sad but honestly the time for it was 2 games ago... let shu takumi rest and go work on some other things.

40. Would you like an Ace Attorney anime?Wow these are old questions huh

42. Would you want to play an Ace Attorney game where you take on the prosecutors role?In theory yes! But I’m not sure how good the execution would be,,, tbh

44. Opinion on Lamiroir’s storyline?I don’t like Lamiroir honestly i think the whole thing was really poorly handlded... I dont like apollos 7000 backstories and shes embroilled in that and its made me not like her tbh

46. Capcom suddenly announces an Ace Attorney movie! Would you like it to be based on an already existing case or would you like an all new storyline?The Ace Attorney story line of games 1-3 is too tight to fit in an extranious movie.. I love the movie we have just make another one please and thank you

48. If there could be an Ace Attorney crossover with whatever franchise you’d like, which one would you choose? (Does not need to be a video-game franchise)Ghost..... trick

50. Do you think Dual Destinies deserved its M-rating?I don’t really care lmao i wasnt actually only 16 when it came out but i got my hands on it anyways so it made no difference on my life. I think M for meanies is extremely funny but also dual destinies has some content that might freak people out so warning people about that aint bad

[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."

[iusefingerguns2coverupmyemotions]

REPUTATION

Ready for it: A JAM (still)

End Game: Herr VOICEEE omg. I like the beat and the change in style, I like that this album is not all one genre. “I DONT WANNA MISS YOU LIKE THE OTHER GIRLS DOOOOOO”. WHEN ED CAME IN OMG. I like this side of Taylor so much, it’s something I wasn’t expecting and I love it.

I Did Something Bad: oohhhhhh gurl. imma tell you right now I’m jam to this a lotttttt. THE DROPPPPPP. I like the feel of this song so much. “Think they saved me” yes gurl you saved yourself. “THEYRE BURNING ALL THE WITCHES EVEN IF YOU ARENT ONEEEEE”

Don’t Blame Me: HER VOICE IS SO BEAUTIFUL OMGOODNESSS. “I would lose my mind” “THEY say she’s gone to far this time” “MY DRUG IS MY BABY, ILL BE USING FOR THE REAT OF MY LIFE” I love every song more and more, like each one is my new favorite. THE ECHO AT THE END THAT LEAD UPPPPPP OOOHHHHHHHH MAN

Delicate: “YOU MUST LIKE ME FOR ME” “cuzzz I know that itsssss delicate” I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCHH. ITS SO UPBEAT AND SOFT AND UGHHHH. (I love them all plz don’t judge me) “is it toooo soon to do this yet”

Look What You Made Me Do: A jammmmmmmmm stilll ma dudes

So It Goes: I️ like the vibe right from the start “hostage to my feelings” this one is raw lyrically “ ALL THE PIECES FAll RIGHT INTO PLACE” I love this one tooooooooo. THE BRIDGE

Gorgeous: still sooooooo in love with this song

Getaway Car: I GOT CHILLLLSSSS. “The lies were white”. “ WE WERE FLYING BUT WE NEVER GOT FAR” “there were sirens in the beat of your heart” “nothing good starts in a getaway car” “a circus isn’t a love story” I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS ONE (I can’t believe there’s only six left :,((((( )

King of My Heart: “better off being alone” :( “American queen” “built the kingdom inside my room” “you are the one I have been waiting for” “body and SOULLLL” I love the style choices on this one and ughhh the album is so good because each song is so good for different reasons and I love it allllllll “my broken bones are mending” “up on the roof with a schoolgirl crush”

Dancing With our Hands Tied: I’m already emotional omg “ I love you in secret” “deep blue but you painted me gold” I loveeeeee this one sooo gosh darn much. “Can’t we dance through an avalanche” “swaying as the room burned down” I LOVE THESE LYRICS SO MUCHHHHH. ALL THE LYRICS. THE WHOLE ALBUM MAN OH MAN

Dress: “they’ve got no idea about me and you” “golden tattoo” “say my name and everything just stopsss” “only bought this dress so you could take it offffff” I LOVE THIS SO FREAKING MUCHHHHHHHHHHH, also all the gold referencesss throughout the album used in different wayssss. “Even in my worst times you can see the best in me” I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH THIS MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE

This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: I LOVE THE VIBEEEEEEE. “Champagne seaaaaaa” “dar-linggg” “hon-ey” “friends don’t try to trick you” every song is my new favvvvvvvvvv man oh mannnn. “Here’s a toast to my real friendssss” “hE said shE said”

Call it What You Want: I love this one still a jam I just heart it so muchhhhhhhhh

New Years Day: CHILLLS omgoodnessss. “ I want your midnightsssaa” I’m cryinggggg. I LOVE THIS ONE SO GOSH FRWAKING MUCH “hold on to the memories they will hold onto you” “I will hold onto youuuuu” I just love this one with my whole heart it hits on so many memories I have from this past year and I love thissssssss.

Overall: ALBUM ON REPEAT

[sugainmycoffee]

{2016} A Year of Yoonmin pt. 2

{2016} A Year of Yoonmin pt. 1

July

the airing of bon voyage!

jimin’s lost bag yoongi teasing jimin again

“rapmonster and suga will plan it”

jimins lost trust jimin teasing yoongi again

when all jimin cares about is beating yoongi

160711 airport pics black and white yoonmin

ot7 for epilogue but still touchinging

jimin casually holding yoongi tight and yoongi casually enjoying it :’)

aesthetic yoonmin fantaken from epilogue

when tae accidently revealed jimin’s soft spot for a certain min yoongi on vlive

“it would be fun with suga” yoonmin bickering in dialect rip me

yoonmin cuddling yet again for summer package in dubai teasers

episode 3 of bon voyage where yoonmin were hella obvious: from this, to this, to all of thissssssss, this, this, and thiss

they make each other laugh and it’s the most beautiful thing :’)))

two cuties posing for star1

a smol hug for encouragement on stage during baepsae (epilogue)

ot7 for youth japanese album but still stuck to one another

August

bon voyage episode 5~

yoonmin reminiscing the good times they shared in sweden

the release of summer package in dubai blessing us with another yoonmin photoshoot!

but also the video

and the gifs

and the amazing solo shots

plus their diary

what jimin wants 

supportinG A TO THE G TO THE U TO THE STD

another bon voyage date why is every bts variety show actually just a yoonmin show?

an old interview that resurfaced because what the fuck?? jimin thinks about his hometown and nuzzles his head on yoongi’s chest???

thAT DAMNED GARTER and couple jeans

some things never change

matching outfits for Arirang arirang~Arariyo~~

Daegu Boys are meant to fall in love with Busan boys

probably holding hands on yET ANOTHER bon voyage date i love this show

tru luv aka when park jimin lost a game and chose to suffer his frozen punishment with yoongi all that hand holding

relaxing in the hot tub together

min yoongi looks out for his boyfriend

agreeing that they dont know shit (well atleast you have each other)

yoongi can’t take his eyes off the gem that is park jimin

when chuseok isac rolled around and we got rly emotional over our fave cupid duo

the touchinG

the side hugs

the media picturessss (x, x, x, x)

the BACK HUG returns

fooling around together :’)

September

“since Jimin is cute, Suga can forgive him for his immature image“

yoonmin + tae for puma

yoonmin for smart making us wanna cry yet again

the airing of isac and more yoonmin content

video of the back hug :’)

mini mini cupid duo

concentration

yoongi wanting jimin’s attention

obvious jiminie

more touching

precious jiminie and yoongi

hmph x x x

behind the scenes with park pd nim

constant bickering

WINGS SHORT FILMS LIE AND FIRST LOVE AND THE BLATANT CONNECTION BETWEEN THE TWO

puma joining in on the yoonmin comeback fun

an undeniable similarity

yoongi embarrassing jiminie...

september 30 2016 - also known as yoonmin day - when yoonmin concept pictures came out and so did their puma bogsock commercial

a parallel

the best concept

October

when we realized from young forever / wings they swapped hair colours but what does it mean and things got a bit difficult

some fantakens from the busan one asia festival

the blood sweat and tears mv teaser which was literally just aesthetics and kinky yoonmin

fantakens from DMC Festival and an onstage hug???

a lil something sweet during the wings preview show before they slayed us with that mv and album drop :’)

and then the bst mv dropped and we all died

but especially us ym stans bc of this this this & this

snow app filters blessed us and yoongi finally asked jimin out

bst mv reaction where yoongi only sees jimin (yet again) and jimin is soooo flustered

we all wished we could be jin for the album shoot behind the scenes

jiminie’s birthday! (ofc yoongi is the first to post a beautiful selfie of jimin making kissy faces whY DOES HE HAVE THAT PICTURE WILL WE EVER KNOW)

yoongi’s suggestive birthday present for jiminie...

smol touches and deep understanding for sbs cultwo show

the disrespect during bst promotions

dispatch glo up

yoongi still teasing us by telling us to wait a bit more for that song he wrote jimin .-. (still waiting min yoongi still waiting)

sitting unnecessarily close

#EXPOSE HIM 2k17

jimin confesses he spent chuseok break at the min’s cooing over yoongi cooing over min holly :’)))

despite all these km

why its relevant

allll the headcannons

161014 soft touches and giggles

161017 fansign moments (expectation vs reality)

161028 fansign where jimin mocked yoongi and also wanted to whisper sweet nothings in his ear

beautiful fantaken

yoongi abt jimin, making him laugh at fansigns, and wanting to name a dog “dooly” (aka jimins previous nickname)

“it just looks like i hit him hard”

ym fooling around behind the scenes for bst  (and holding hands?)

another win for the ot7 (but also the otp)

yoongi just wants to take jimin on a honeymoon when will they let him

skt returns with another cf for the love of minimini

the end of a beautiful era

November

one last selfie to wrap up promotions

goodbye stage softness

tony montana collab!!! (aka yoonmin subunit lowkey debuts after all this pining)

yoongi is a supportive bf

but also a jealous one

push push fall in love

jimin teasing yoongi on twitter for the 1392028th time

shookga

ym autumn aesthetics

minimini mc duo

tryna kill us w their aegyo

yoongi flustered af remembering jimins iconic contribution to mama 2014

December

yoongi’s proposal! mama 2016!

soft touches n hugs

shared smiles n explicit flirting

jimin cant contain himself at all after winning the daesang

lovely fantakens of a beautiful night

lost in their own world

when will the teasing end

when we finally got the HD for that isac back hug :’))

the cutest pair

jimin reminding us he knows more about yoongi than we ever will in seasons greetings

“i knew you were good” 

move aside orange mint, a new era of tomato peach is born

wow i love captain of the ym ship, kim namjoon

so soFT

not so single singles

pup jimin knows exactly what he wants

end callout culture 2k17

when yoongi wanted jimin to carry his standee and jimin was being a lil shit

yoongi’s injury :< which led to all this disrespect

“you dont have to hurt yourself”

“namjoon hyung does it better”

yoongi’s tweets....

and a lil something sweet too #neverleavingoutminyoongi

another award = another win for the otp

anddddddddd that’s a wrap. lets hope 2017 is an even more eventful year for our boys ❤️️