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Warning: I dabble in dark content. I reblog/create posts that contain potentially upsetting content such as dub-con, noncon, piss kink, fauxcest, graphic violence, etc. these will be tagged, but peruse at your own risk.
Do not use my work in any AI model.
Limit list (non exhaustive list of weird things I will/will not write about)
Is your blog also a safe space for Harry potter fans 🥺 (I don't support jkr btw)
My blog is an active hostile zone for hp fans. Im setting up bear traps as we speak.
I don't give a fuck if you say you don't support her, stay the hell away from my blog I hate you.
Dbf!nikolai coming to pick you up from uni when price can't.....
Dbf!nik who comes rolling in on his loud ass motorcycle, that one you swear he's had since you were a kid 'helping' him work on it in the garage. Nikolai smiles at you when he pulls his helmet off, usually slicked back hair a mess. "Ah! How you've grown!"
Dbf!nik who tosses you his large leather jacket, when you try to hop onto the bike. He snarks about your dad killing him if you got a scrape, but you're too focused snuggling into the fabric that smells like him.
Dbf!nik who smiles to himself when your hands wander on the ride back. A bit too low on his torso, then moving to the inside of his thigh over a sharp turn. Curious fingers mere centimeters off from his cock.
Dbf!nik who doesn't fuck you on the side of the road, or in your bed when you get home. He prefers the look full of desire you give him. The special thread that hasn't quite been crossed yet. He likes the anticipation.
Dbf!nik who notices when you don't take his jacket off right away. He enjoys thinking about what you'll do with it once he's gone. He lets you keep it.
sweetly, unintentionally ragebaiting ormund // simple targ!reader
You have no idea you're making Ormund grow insane with rage during his stay in the Red Keep, which makes said rage all the more unbearable. His sweetling whore is neither clever nor cruel enough to enjoy getting beneath his skin. You are not his ward, he cannot punish you by hand or mere word. You are also not his wife, he cannot fuck you into knowing obedience.
...He can only dream about doing both as a means to soothe himself.
// or: you gift ormund an ironic piece of literature after his constant jabs concerning your targaryen heritage //
WC: 2.1K // ormund crashing out but also trying not to, obsessive!ormund x afab targ! reader, anger issues, manipulation. some mentions of filthy descriptions, slut-shaming, hypocritical ormund (hating tarygaryen incest but imagining reader as his adopted daughter??) // headcanons based on some draft scenes that will not be shown in savor pt 2. // ormund hightower!tag next up: reader accidentally exposing Daeron by mentioning that he has written to her about Ormund's sensitivities to odors before...
When Ormund keeps making little…remarks about Valyrian customs, you do not know better than to sense he's jesting. Badly, snarkily jesting. It's the same when he "jests" about dragonriders, asking if your beast has ever eaten a man. It's also the same when he questions the habits your blood has preserved that ought perhaps to have died with Old Valyria.
Lord Ormund seems particularly interested in said blood and their habits when he catches you with Aemond, or when you speak too fondly of Daeron.
"I have to ask, Princess, will you be married off to your brother the way your sister was, or will there finally be some sense of healthy, right-by-the-faith tradition by your mother having you wed a good lord who didn't come from the same womb?"
"...I am not sure, my lord---"
"I only ask since it appears that the Targaryen men of your family keep mistaking the lines of genealogy for a map to their kin's bedchambers. Or am I mistaken?"
Now, how can you not reach the obvious conclusion?
Lord Ormund is very interested in Valyrian marriage.
In a bout of kindness...and possibly the need to please the Lord of Oldtown, you find Ormund an old book. You're very pleased with yourself as you carry the volume against your chest to his guest chambers.
"I have brought you something, Lord Ormund."
Ormund looks up. Your words are enough to improve his mood, which he will not perceive as weakness. High spirits must be kept in a city as disgusting as King's Landing.
And a gift from you? Interesting.
Perhaps it is one of those little devotional texts you have begun discussing with him, or something concerning Oldtown, and he can only hope either indicates that his efforts to dry the dragon from your blood have begun producing results.
Yet, he hopes you don't think this gift is tempting or a means to get closer. That is whore behavior, sweetling, and it's a shame he doesn't have the right to beat it out of you---
"Here. I thought of you."
You set the book upon his desk. Ormund looks down at it.
Quite immediately, his ears begin to wash out all other sounds with ringing.
CUSTOMS OF UNION AMOUNG VALYRIA.
john price who buys a plot of land and moves west, only to arrive after weeks on the trail and find a ramshackle little cabin already squatting on it. the whole place looks abandoned. reeks of neglect. he draws his gun and ventures in for a look anyway, see if he can’t at least salvage the place to build his own—and scares its lone resident, a woman armed only with a knife.
"losing" your virginity to your sworn sword but it doesn't count because he's your protector... you're just giving your virginity to him so he can keep it safe... he's not giving it back though
Thinking about price going to a fertility clinic to check his sperm, right?
Him and the wifey have been having issues, been trying for a kid for years and still, nothing. Price had offered to be the first one to go, consider it a peace offering and tactical decision. No man wants to be the guy to accuse his wife of being barren.
The room is as expected. The nurse gives him the cup, and the room he's sent to has plenty of magazines and videos to choose from.
Price tries to think of his wife, his love. Her tits, the curve of her thighs, how her favorite sweater hugs her body and rolls. Sure, it's...nice. but price just can't get there.
He's desperate, working himself in all the right ways but just unable to do it until–
You, his neighbor calls. Your profile picture flashes across his screen, and it's that simple candid of your smiling face that has price swearing and hastily positioning the cup.
...fuck.
𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍 | 𝐁𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍.
Some would whisper that the Prince's love you bordered on obsession, a love that could not be translated through poems and songs, and yet the seeds of war were oft planted during times of peace, for the tale that would unfold, was one born of unwavering love and a loss that knew no boundaries.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: explicit sexual content, tender moments, yearning, angst, so much angst, possessive behaviour, so much love, character death, porn with plot, blackfyre rebellion, abduction, death, grief, minors dni.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄.
Hope you all enjoy. Remember this is an AU, as I am aware that Aegor Rivers only formed the Gold Company after the First Blackfyre Rebellion. Uh, I even cried writing the ending, hope all the time I spent paid off, don't even know whether anyone would actually be invested in this, but I just know I did my best and that's good enough for me.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀: 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 inspired, featuring the pairing between Prince Baelor Targaryen and AFAB reader.
The Red Keep had never felt so alive as it did in those last peaceful days before the realm tore itself open.
141s opinions about their partner using sex toys?
(Price hates it bc if it's there he cant control every aspect of his partner)
(Johnny loves it bc he's overly freaked out and 100% owns a fleshlight himself)
I think I may have answered this before, but it was a long time ago! So I’ll go through it again.
I think Price follows the traditional practices of being an oft-away partner. What did whaler’s wives do when their men were at sea? Well, I like to think they had tons of lesbian sex, but historically they also used a he’s-at-home. So, in short, I think he’s totally fine with you using toys when he’s away. When he’s around, though? He wants you using the real thing, always. Toys get banished to the back of the nightstand drawer. He will admit that the idea of plugs intrigue him, though.
Gaz is a modern guy who also happens to enjoy overstim. So he’s a big fan of using a vibrator as an assistant— but he gets a little huffy over you using dildos (he’ll never admit it). Like, he’s got a perfect cock right here, can silicone really compare? But anything else— bullet vibes, roses, suckers, plugs— all completely fair. But if you introduce the idea of a clone-a-cock…. He’s very interested in that. Loves to be on assignment and get a video of you fucking a replica of him, moaning for him.
Ghost is a utilitarian guy. Admittedly, I think sometimes he just does not get hard. Maybe it’s from all the torture, maybe it’s from nerve damage, maybe it’s just from all the wires that are crossed in his brain, but sometimes the synapses meant to send blood to his penis are just not firing. While he’s not against medicinal intervention on it, he’s also perfectly happy to fuck you stupid with a fake cock. And he has to admit, he does like how a clear dildo lets him see all the details of what’s going on in there.
I think Johnny started using sex toys and collecting them in his late teens, so he’s something of an enthusiast. He wants a tour of your collection, and wants to give you a tour of his. And he’s eager to make recommendations too. In fact, the thing that’s most likely to hurt his feelings is not if you buy a toy, but if you don’t show it to him first to ask what he thinks.
Plug nikolai is literally the perfect boyfriend
No he isn’t!!! He literally encourages ZERO of your ambitions because he loves having you be his lazy stay-at-home baby!! You do not want to know what kind of face he’d be making if he came home and you were out because you were working. And it’s such a double standard! He stays out till ass-o-clock taking care of business shit!
He is such a selfish baby. Always wants access to you, doesn’t wanna be left alone in bed when he knows you’re around to cuddle him. Whenever you probably should get up, but there’s that little voice saying why? It’s so comfy here. I should stay here forever. That voice is him. He’s the devil. He will totally encourage you to ignore every responsibility you’ve ever had.
Hybrid tortoise reader makes me just think about Price cleaning their shell everyday and having a huge separate fridge for your greens only
(This is more of a “hybrids as regular folk” kinda universe!)
There’s a certain stigma again tortoise hybrids. Well, a few. Especially when it comes to having them as partners.
First and foremost: the shell. Though not as heavy and restricting as that of a full tortoise, it’s still a big thing to work around.
Second: age. People don’t typically want to enter relationships where their partner will almost certainly outlive them.
Third: the herbivorous nature. This goes for most leaf-eating hybrids— a lot of time has to be spent eating. And leafy greens take up a lot of space in the fridge. It’s a whole thing.
Fourth: the speed. Like, we have places to be. Can’t you step it up a little?
Price, a proud lion hybrid, is still rather desirable in his old age. Efficient, driven, minimal. A strong, able carnivore— he could have his pick of partners.
Of course no one says it out loud, but they’re always surprised to see you introduced as being his partner. The illustrious captain John Price, saddled with someone whose presence amounts to little more than a boulder to most? It seems far fetched.
But Price doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t mind spending his hours with you, sitting out at the patio table on the porch while you much away at lettuce, melon, and cactus. He piles up your romaine and adds a date so there’s a little sweet surprise— dusted with some calcium, of course.
Delights in scrubbing you down and waxing your shell. Always has his hands on it— he loves the feel of your scutes, and he feels responsible checking the parts you can’t reach for any dry or brittle areas.
You’re younger than him, but he always gets you the best of everything. Things built to last. It includes the house he tends, it has old bones but it’ll stay sturdy long after he’s gone. Tons of notes and word files hidden around the house and in your computer so there will be traces of him for you to find.
Your ambling pace as he takes you around the lake near the house is just perfect for him. Lets him take in the world, in earnest, for the first time. He never knew how to slow down before you— there was always the next task to move up from the back burner. Fires to be put out. Never time to admire his work— to appreciate the moments he fights for.
So no. He doesn’t mine having a tortoise for a partner.
I also think a really cute idea that would focus less on the nobility and more on the common people (which is right up my alley) would be smallfolk!reader accidentally causing the death of some highborn lord and having to basically flee the city on pain of death (she knows instantly she's absolutely fucked if she stays in the city because the lord's guards were nearby when she accidentally killed him, so she has to immediately start running).
she gets enough of a head start that she's able to make it to a small village on the outskirts of the city (she stole the lord's horse or something and then set it free so it wouldn't give her away) and then begs the first person she sees to hide her (the village blacksmith because his forge is at the end of the main road leading into town, and she's so desperate that she barely even registers the way his eyes glow with the same heat as the red hot iron resting on his anvil), and he tells her he will.
only what he doesn't divulge, until a few knights of the realm come galloping into town, is that his plan to conceal her identity involves telling them that the woman sitting anxiously in his house is his wife of several years and yes of course, he saw the smallfolk woman they speak of come riding through not long ago, they should be able to catch up with her if they don't tarry.
and of course, after they've left, she can't exactly go back to her hovel in the city. they'll be waiting for her at the gates. better just for her to stay with him and share his bed and, well, it would do for her to have a husband to keep her out of trouble if this is the kind of trouble she attracts.
"You have poison in your room."
You turn to face Price, the captain of the ship, and the expedition you'd signed up for. He was surprisingly your biggest ally in defending you against your cultural ignorance. Mostly because he had misinterpreted your handshake and smile upon introducing yourself to him as a sign you wanted to mate.
Price's alien species reminded you a lot of if Drax and a werewolf had a baby; though you would never tell him that. "Poison? Is this another engery drink situation?" You probe as you set your clipboard down. You always volunteered to do the weekly count. It brought you a sense of peace.
"No, it's bad poison. You know it's poison, and you still have it." He scolds, pulling your hand finished bottle of whiskey out of his belt.
"Oh, my whiskey. It's alcohol."
"Alcohol belongs in the medical bay." Price was getting more frustrated with your replies and the lack of care for your well-being. "Do you enjoy drinking poison?"
"Well, rubbing alcohol and drinking alcohol is different. It's not good for me, that's for sure, but the effects are nice. I'd have to drink a lot more than I'd be comfortable drinking to really hurt myself." You explain as John raises an eyebrow skeptically.
"You are microdosing on poison." He mutters in disbelief, his tail wagging slowly as he thinks. "That's not good for you."
"Just give me back my whiskey."
