and by saucy I mean smutty or the like đ Don't see me as a fic-dispensing machine - comment! đ
I put warnings in the beginning/on reblogs in tags đ€
am over 18 years old
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my least favorite literary smut turn of phrase is when a guy is like âim gonna ruin this pussyâ âim gonna wreck this pussy for anyone elseâ like stop.. thats not yoursâŠ!
VII The Red Justice Major Arcana | Old Poniente Tarot Cards
An ancient Valyrian crown.
A sword of fire.
Meleys watches.
Meleys guards.
There is no defeat.
There is no victory.
Only authority.
Only legitimacy.
Only dignity.
The justice Westeros denied.
A kingdom reaps what it has sown.
The Red Justice means...
Justice without favor.
Wisdom without illusion.
Truth without fear.
Balance without mercy.
For every choice, a consequence.
For every deed, a reckoning.
The scales remember all.
And the realm must answer.
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Being Ormund Hightower's Wife Would Include đčđ
Reader: AFAB (Ormund had two wives and multiple children, so I assume if his third spouse couldn't have them, it would be alright (update: So, they made him have one child in the show. Whatever.))
Warnings: implied scent kink, benevolent misogyny, homophobia, making decisions for you, anger outbursts
Word count: 674
*đč*đ*đč* AO3 link
Ormund creates perfumes specifically for you, sitting in his study multiple times a day testing ingredients and picturing your face.
He'll sniff you without shame. You're like his personal smelling salt.
Due to his sensitivity, he ensures you can bathe as often as you wish to...and when he commands it.
There have definitely been letters from him asking you to be washed and ready for the next evening, after he bathed as well.
His favorite scents are roses and anything fresh. He dislikes heavy smells like musk, including burnt things, though the memory of septs reminds him not to let them annoy him.
The Faith of the Seven makes Ormund misogynistic at times: he criticizes female rulership and decides where you go when, under which name, even.
He has you dressed in fine fabrics so you're the perfect safe heaven he can bury his head in when he comes back from fighting and strategizing and hugs you, his thick fingers stroking your lower back through your garments.
Daeron is raised after the faith too, but Ormund will allow you small criticisms of him so the boy can learn to react to them.
You don't have to act like a parent, but he'd prefer if you admired the way he teaches Daeron.
At night, he wishes you to sleep in his bed, and during the day, you may lay down as well: with his clothes on you, so they will smell like you afterwards.
Sometimes he uses you as an exuse to leave sooner, naming your tiredness or supposed squeamishness.
Of course he knows women can be very courageous, but he prefers to think you see him as your protector.
In truth, he's knocked out by the smell of strong alcohol and steps back when Daeron's dragon Tessarion approaches him, but he drapes a cloak around you during rainfall like a knight in romantic paintings.
Then there is his temper: Ormund's eaaily upset, and yet, you never quite know when he'll explode.
Smell of course aggravates his anger, political decisions as well, sins in the eyes of the Seven.
He doesn't stop at expressions and cursing, but uses force: throwing tools, cutlery, slicing into tables, pulling fabric apart.
However he doesn't attack his family. Never. They're his to protect, or at least to let live.
His constraint depends: with Daeron, Ormund's unrestrained but as quick as possible, preparing the boy for a war he himself might not be able to accompany him to due to sensory issues.
With Gwayne, Ormund allows himself near limitless insults, though he does have a preference for wordplay and hidden stabs at his interests.
You're different. You're to be respected, as a part of his household, as the Lord of Oldtown's status symbol.
He even encourages compliments to you, though they may bring out jealousy.
His position as Lord of Oldtown is very important to him. At times he even neglects you for it, but he spends way more time with you than other husbands would.
Ormund will walk into your chamber with fabrics in hand and seamstresses in tow, asking you touch them and choose.
They're usually green, in various shades, and he never wishes to see you in Targaryen red and black, even if it's only headwear.
The combination is an abomination to him, as is the family behind them.
One time his uncle Otto and Prince Aemond came to visit, and multiple ladies whispered plans of dressing in his house's color.
Ormund was appalled. "Let us use a red table cloth and call it a day."
He gave those who dressed in black and red annoyed looks for the next weeks.
In Oldtown, the centre of the Faith of the Seven, Ormund finds himself with less power than one might expect.
Acting as the dutiful partner is expected of you not merely as a part of marriage, but from the faith as well.
They are looking up to you, and you hope to do your best at showing kindness in contrast to his aggression.
*
Your Lord husband comes up behind you and strokes the vibrant green dress adorning you.
"Daeron, don't you think Lady (y/n) has chosen a wonderful tapestry?"
"Y-yes, my liege."
"And her dress. What does it tell you, boy?"
Daeron's eyes fleet to you, then the tapestry again.
Ormund pats his back. "Our house."
"Of course. Hightower Green."
"Because we belong together." Ormund smiles confidently.
*đč*đ*đč*
Author's note: The images are from this edit on Youtube /on Tiktok đđ
God, just, being Gwayne's wife (lavender marriage) and being so good with each other that you slowly work around having kids and Ormund being a jerk like "Who's bastard is it?" and she just goes "My Husband's?" and he doesn't believe her but the baby comes out looking like Gwayne so he's crazy about it, like how did she do this? And her being protective of her dearest friend and husband and ragebaiting Ormund and making his life hell and just leading to hate sex and then he becomes obsessed with her but she keeps him on the side and he's the mistress and then she gets pregnant and he's SURE its his and how could it NOT be and she goes, "The first one was" but he refuses to believe it and then the baby comes out looking just like her and he goes insane and they argue and he threatens to tell Gwayne and she hits him with he knows??? And do you really want to claim this 'bastard' when it would out you as an adulterer? And he's just trapped. Checkmate.
Rhaenyra could've so easily won the war unscathed with the amount of dragon rider sisters and daughters spawning off on fanfiction to marry those hightower hotties
formal menswear enthusiasts want to slut it up so bad but they're frightened. so they wear shirt-stays and sock garters under their clothes. this is my scientific theory it's making waves in the guyologist world right now
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For the past few years, Jamie Campbell Bower has been in all-out villain mode â as Stranger Thingsâ monstrous Vecna, he flayed minds, bodies and souls alike. But as he enters another mammoth streaming series, Bower is switching things up. Heâs one of the new cast additions to Season 3 of The Lord Of The Rings: The Rings Of Power, entering the Tolkien-verse in a role that has, until now, been kept tightly under wraps (and much rumoured-over by fans). Empire can finally confirm Bowerâs role: meet Celeborn, Elf lord and warrior.
And, notably, the husband of Morfydd Clarkâs Galadriel. The character â briefly portrayed in Peter Jacksonâs films by Marton Csokas â is something of a âlover-boyâ, says Bower. The anti-Vecna, then. How they introduce Celeborn â who canonically married Galadriel in the First Age, and in TROP has been apart from her for centuries â remains to be seen. But their dynamic is partly inspired by Tolkien and his wife, Edith. âThis idea of longing and yearning is so pervasive in Tolkienâs relationship with Edith for the time that they were apart,â says Bower. âI really feasted on that idea. Celeborn has had to find a way to survive whilst longing for something that he so dearly loved and so dearly missed as well.â And Clark was more than game to contribute to the pairâs sparkling interplay. âSheâs kind of rude to him in the books,â she chuckles. âSheâs the queen! But Jamie looks exactly like how I would imagine Celeborn. Heâs such an Elf.â
Showrunners J.D. Payne and Patrick McKay saw hundreds of tapes for Celeborn â but even without Elf ears and the rest, it was clear that Bower had the stuff. âHe has this voice that is rich and hypnotic and sonorous that feels it has the wisdom of the ages buried inside of it,â says Payne. âAnd then we did a chemistry read [with Clark], and instantly it just felt like he loved her so much. It felt so natural, and so organic, and so right.â In the age of Sauron, Middle-earth could use a few more lover-boys."
This is awesome! đ„° I was hoping he would play Celeborn cause some people say she should've been more open to Sauron when she was still mourning her husband đ
So the thing is boobs really do be jiggling. If having breasts has taught me anything it is that the ladies frolic. I don't even have that large of boobs but every time I go down some stairs all I can think about is that stupid quote about boobing breastily down the stairs or whatever it is because God Damn.
But anime and video game boob jiggling is like. The most uncanny valley shit I've ever seen nine times out of ten. You would think people this horny about tits would have actually looked at some but I guess not.
What we really need is some pervert to compile the ultimate visual guide to boob bouncing physics that's just like 500 hours of meticulously organized videos of breasts of different size and shape and under different fabrics bouncing around from a wide variety of physical movements so horny game devs can finally get it right and I don't have to be creeped out by women who appear to have surgically implanted softballs in their chest under skin made of rubber bands.
(18+) thinking about ormund's rings. he likes to run the back of his hands on your skin, so you can feel the coolness of the stone and steel. when he grips your thigh, the fat of your hips or throat, ormund loves the marked indents remaining behind from his rings. it's also delightful when you suck on his fingers and choke a little because the emerald brushes the roof of your mouth. even more so when your pussy clenches around two or three of his digits, and he can watch how the rings push in and out of you, coated in slick, glistening in the low light of your chambers. ormund doesn't wash them afterwards. loves to bring the steel to his nose and breathe in the remaining scent of you the next day.
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The fact is no one actually asked Ormund to bring his army, last season Alicent jumped into a lake in her pristine white shift no soap no shampoo no volumizing conditioner and Ormund immediately sensed it and started marching because under the light of the seven thatâs illegal. Hightowers lose 9 servants a day because Ormund has Tessarion on a strict regime of two baths daily (yes they do have to brush her teeth every time) and if anybody gets a single goddamn fingerprint on that dragonâs freshly shined scales he will be making it 10
As the King, itâs not exactly wrong for the two of you to do it, but it does feel taboo every time you ride him on the Iron Throne
Every time you climbed on his lap, mindful of all the sharp points and swords, you couldnât help but think that youâre breaking some kind of rule that doesnât exist. After all, Jacaerys is the King and technically it is his seat. As the most powerful man in the realm, thereâs no one for you to answer to after doing such an act but it certainly feels like you should
The first time that he asked you to do it, you thought that he was crazy. It was so unlike Jacaerys to do something soâŠrisky, that you genuinely thought it was a prank at first
Only when realized you that your husband was completely serious did you really start to consider it
And you had to admit, the rush of power that you got as you bounced on your husbandâs cock, riding the most powerful man in the most powerful seat in the realm was nothing like youâd ever experienced before
It quickly became your guilty pleasure to do so, never minding when Jacaerys summoned you to the throne room at such late hours
For you knew what awaited you when you climbed those steps, and each time you were filled with delicious anticipation to do it all over again
Aemond Targaryen
Ever since he was a child, Aemond had been absolutely fascinated by dragons
His obsession with those beasts was almost unnatural as his mother used to say, and you were quite inclined to agree as one day, Aemond tried to convince you to let him fuck you on top of Vhagar
Of course, the request had been so ridiculous that you genuinely thought your husband to be ill at first, maybe having contracted some disease during his many travels
Only when you saw Aemondâs confident smirk did you realize that it was indeed not a jest, and your husband really did want you to ride him on top of a fucking dragon
So there you were, thousands of feet in the air and praying that you didnât fall as you straddled Aemondâs lap
You held onto him tight as your cunt sank down, your hips moving with his in the large saddle
Every kiss, every touch was concealed within the clouds, Vhagar flying steady while you rode your husband. The sound of her wings masked the pathetic way you cried for Aemond, filthy praises and words of encouragement being whispered in your ears as you soared across the skies
Aegon Targaryen
Aegon figures that if heâs going to hell anyways, he may as well have a little fun in his mortal life
Whatâs life without a little risk anyways, he figures. This is why he has no problem fucking you in the Sept of Seven, having you on your knees, naked in front of the statue of the Mother
Instead of praying to her though, you worship him. You praise his cock and the way it makes you feel so goodâbetter than praying, really
The absolute trill of someone coming in and getting caught is like no other. Sometimes, Aegon even hopes that youâll be discoveredâpreferably by his mother or that cunt of Septa thatâs always preaching about sin and virtue
He imagines their faces as he fucks you from behind, taunting you and making you look directly at the statue when you cum around him
Aegonâs never really believed in the Gods much, but the way your cunt feels wrapped around him is heavenly
And to him, thereâs truly no greater tasting sin
Daemon Targaryen
Otto Hightower had once called Daemon brazen, irresponsible, violent, arrogant, reckless and a second Maegor
He supposed that it was true, but still, Otto Hightower was a cunt in Daemonâs mind, and the Prince would do anything to get back at him
âŠIncluding fucking in his bed
In Daemonâs very weak defense, he hasnât meant to, really
When he pulled you in a for a kiss, intending to take you quickly before he had to attend a meeting later in the day, he hadnât been paying attention to where he pulled you
He just wanted to feel you, to touch you before he had to leave for the day
And what do you knowâthe place that he ends up brining you to fufill your hurried tryst was the fucking Tower of the Hand
Neither of you realize it at first, too caught up in each other to notice the amount of green, grey and white around you
It isnât until you stumble onto the actual bed, Daemon fumbling to get your clothing off do you finally look up and youâre greeted by a portrait of Otto fucking Hightower on the walls
Alarmed, you immediately tell Daemon and it takes only a second to realize where youâve accidentally stumbled
Of course, Daemon thinks itâs hilarious and even if you want to leave, a little creeped out at the thought of being fucked on the same sheets the Hand of the King sleeps on, Daemon is entirely too thrilled to leave
Once the idea is in his brain, it wonât be going any time soon
A mischievous grin grows on your loverâs face, and somehow, Dameon convinces you to let him take on Ottoâs clean, perfectly folded sheets, loving the way you mess them up with your messy fucking
Of course, heâll just blame the servants for all the mess, but now every time he faces Otto thereâs always a knowing smirk on Daemonâs face, smug that the Hand will never know the dirty things said and done on the very mattress he sleeps on
Cregan Stark
Cregan was the Lord of Winterfell, and because of that he was allowed to eat where he pleased, train where he pleasedâŠand fuck where he pleased
It was this that he reminded you of as he took you in one of the hot springs the castle had to offer, water splashing as your husbandâs hips thrust into yours
He had you on his lap, your tits pressed against his warm wet chest as you bounced on his cock
The both of you were well aware that this was a public place and that anyone could stumble upon you, but that only spurred you on more
Honestly, seeing your honorable and kind husband act so reckless was a turn on in itself, loving the way Cregan grunted and didnât care who heard him
He was lost in the feel of your cunt and the warm water which only added to the sensations
Add that to the trill of getting caught, and neither of you really lasted long when you fucked in the springs
Still panting and filled with your husbandâs seed, you grinned as you ran a hand through his tangled hair
âAnother day without being caught,â You said, slightly disappointed
Cregan shrugged. âWell, maybe weâll succeed next time.â
Benjicot Blackwood
âBen, not here! Someone could see us!â
âThen let them see. Let those Bracken cunts see how a real man pleases his Lady wife,â Benji whispered, and you couldnât even deny that fucking right on the Blackwood-Bracken boundary line didnât bring a kind of fire to your veins that you craved
Your lover had always been more shy and sweet than anything else, but you knew just how deep his hatred for the Brackens ran when he threw all of that away and fucked you so close to their territory
Deep, satisfactory moans left his lips as he rutted into you, the thrill of getting caught edging you both on like no other
You pressed against Benji, panting as his cock drove in out of you and hit your sweet spots over and over
All you could think about, all you craved was cumming around your husbandâs cock while his enemies watched; and you did
Benji was beyond proud of himself as you moaned and let the entirety of House Bracken know what was happening. Let them know how good he was making you feel
He felt bad for the wives of those smug cunts as surely theyâd never know such pleasure, but at least Benji knew that you couldnât relate
The Brackens could say whatever they wanted about his family, but at least the Blackwoods knew how to fuck
And who knows, if they were watching, then maybe theyâd even learn a thing or two from Benji