#purple gives advice

[tsunderedoctor]

Do you have any tips for motivation? I've been struggling with trying to do my hw and struggling with personal projects cause I can't get the motivation to get them done, like I get the idea of it then I wanna do it but then I stop at the actual "doing" part.

Hmmm, I totally understand, I've been lacking motivation to write lately so I get it.

I usually try to set times when I can get just a little bit of stuff done. For your homework, for example, you can work on 2 questions at a time. It's less intimidating and gives you some control over the situation! Same could be said with household chores, just take the trash out this hour and in the next put your dishes away. Not everything needs to be done in one setting.

I hope that helps 💜💜💜

[roosterlasagne]

Why do I have a feeling that Gwen helped Arthur pick out the purple shirt for Merlin?

I totally love the idea of Arthur with heart eyes being like "he looks good in purple" but he doesn't know a thing about fashion. He pays people to dress him and make him clothes. He went up to Gwen and asked her, because she's close to Merlin.

Arthur: hypothetically, if someone were to give Merlin a shirt, what colour is his favourite?

Gwen, squinting her eyes: red.

Arthur: he already has a red shirt. And a blue one, so don't say that either.

Gwen, knowing it's a very expensive dye: get him a purple shirt then.

Arthur: good idea!

Arthur: ...

Arthur: who said I'm giving him anything?

Gwen, with a grin: right.

[greenfrogartist]

Last night I dreamt that Ben 10 didn't actually go years without being discovered and having a secret identity, it's just that the people he saved looked at this ten years old and we're like "ok yeah we gotta protect him in any way we can " and so they did when they could, whether with fights or with hiding his identity (tho the small number was an issue)

They even had a discord where they talked about him and Gwen (cause they are both guardians and fans) where they share whatever info they can find on their own and all and try to find new people who knows and either shush them or make them join them

It's also why the one who revealed Ben's identity is Jimmy Jones, cause they couldn't exactly shush a 10 years old and all

Anyway this was just the first half of the dream, the second half is them, for whatever reason, waking up in the past with their memories intact, in the same day Ben got his Omnitrix and they all where like "okay we have the numbers we can actually protect him now" (after getting over the whole 'wtf why and how are we in the past')

Anyway that's how ten year old Ben Tennyson got an army of adult willing to fight the universe for him and his cousin, and some even tried to help Kevin earlier and push him toward the group so they can be friends again

I think their leader is the now 3 years old Jimmy, trying to "repent for his sins" or something (it's mostly cause he is the biggest fan and knows everything about anything Ben related. They had to have him help. From a safe distance of course)

[shadycwasont]

This was mainly inspired by other people's aus/fanfics like 2 souls, hamato spirit (I think that's what it's called haven't seen it is a bit) but basically the premise is that a ghost of the turtles from one iteration goes to another iteration simple right?

Well, in this au, it's the spirits of another one of my personal iterations that's to be explored in the fanfic, au- thing that I've got going on.

basically the spirits of each of the previous iteration of turtles is connected to their respective Turtle the Leo from before is going to leo, raph to raph etc, etc, the Spirits can only be seen by their respective Soul bound (that the name were going with for now)

Other things it will include; the 2012 turtles getting magic because they deserved it. A slight rewrite of a few characters (ahem donnie casey and april ahem). Airbender references. Trans leo. Autistic raph. (They're all Autistic but this specifically for el rn)(I've never seen anyone else use that nickname for Raph, yet its one of my faves). Airbender fan content references, angst, fluff, crack, fluffy crack (that sounds so wrong 😂). Splinter simultaneously gets shit on (by the characters, not me i dont hate rat dad) and a somewhat support system at the same time. Emotional moments. possibly, just maybe, shitty art. And more. 🥳

Might post about it again, and I might orphan the idea for someone else 🤷‍♀️ who knows. I sure as hell dont.

[hellcifrogs]

Regarding the Villain AU, the only thing Ino could be a villain if a similar situation happens in the Yamanaka clan. The same way what happened to the Uchiha Clan. Or if her beliefs doesn’t align in the will of fire. Anyway Villain!Ino is terrifying in a psychological way.

Okay okay villain Ino would be SO good! And not just bc we'd see Sakura go crazy after her just like Naruto did!

But I also feel like something would have to happen to Shikamaru or Chouji for her to leave them behind! Maybe instead of her clan being killed, they die, maybe in combat, or during an attack. And despite being from "noble" clans they're treated like necessary sacrifices or blamed for something that was out of their hands.

Ino realizes that's how much (little) they're all actually worth to the higher ups. Before she leaves she still tries to convince more people to do something, anyone who could wish to make a difference, her father, Shikaku, Hinata and Neji, Naruto and Sasuke, and finally Sakura.

In the end she accepts everyone is too busy with their own little personal problems to bother looking at the bigger picture and promises she will make them see it, even if it means destroying the village as they know. Bringing it all to the ground so that when the remaining people standing look around they'll see what truly caused their problems. 😈

[crxwnedalex]

A small bit of my draft writing for a unpublished chapter to my Dsmp Apocalyptic fic lmao

___

        Purpled falls to a stop, stomping the dying yellow-green grass below his feet, having been running in circles inside this godforsaken forest for Adea knows how long. He's tired, the adrenaline wore off and now his entire body is killing him, his shoulder especially, he must've pulled that muscle real hard, he better not have ripped anything, Hell.

        Make that a lesson never to skip two whole weeks of workout; It's official, the adventurous 'outdoorsy' kid has finally found himself lost. He could imagine what Punz might have thought, Punz would have laughed in Purpled's face, that's for sure. Great, now his mood is even worse.

"it's better if those things had killed me then, stupid tree!", He hissed, hissed? yanking on his dyed hair while he uselessly kicked at a random tree in front of him.

"Maybe you shouldn't wish that, don't give up so easily."

        The tall stranger said from somewhere behind him, an odd look in their eyes. The Shorter stranger—likely a kid—looked off to the side, their fingers wrung together. These idiots have been somewhat following him the entire time. The words strike at his nerves; and he kicks the grass, uprooting a few unfortunate leaves and sending dirt flying somewhere. He crossed his arms like a tantrum-throwing child, trying to ignore the strange people behind him who had yet to leave him alone.

(Originally posted on Quotev, ao3 link was shared before lol)

[arrowpunk]

Okay I am about to start the deep roads quest in DA2 and I am So Torn. So obviously I gotta bring Varric with me- And I am bringing Carver because he is my brother and I love him and I also know that's what my Hawke would do. But for the third and final companion I am torn because I did spoil myself on things and I know that if I do not bring Anders with me then Carver dies and oof ouch tragic. But the thing is??? Narratively..... very juicy. And I don't know enough to know whether or not having Carver become a Grey Warden would be as narratively satisfying as his death.....

[nightly-ruse]

Yknow something I didn’t realize about warrior cats? They don’t actually ever write the bonds between parents and kits. For being a series that almost always writes characters love interests and kits they never show the bond between a parent and child. They never show a parent teaching a kit, rarely telling stories, spending real time with them, or even grieving the loss of kits.

Sounds odd with the grief part esp as there are big cases of characters who have lost kits but like it’s not shown that much and then just written off (like Sparkpelt, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Palebird, Goldenflower, Graystripe with either of his litters)

[3-inch-sam]

when did it become "stop doing x!!!" instead of "tips for drawing x for beginner artists'

[musicalsiphonophore]

my best unasked for study tip is to constantly ask the teacher questions. if you don’t understand the thing - even if you know it, bc understanding is very different from knowing - ask questions until you do understand. significantly boosts every grade

[shewhoeatssand]

nevermind hes a little rude, I think Shironeki and Jesse would not play bowling because he’d be mean to my sweet son and he’d try to kill him for it

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

[schizowitchic]

i actually cant with this anymore ngl like. messaging my friends isnt an option bc theyre all out busy having actual lives. but i havent left my room all day and i have washing up to do and i have laundry to do but i cant fucking go in the kitchen bc being around my flatmates is so awkward. like. essentially i have zero friends right now because im nowhere near anyone i can speak to. the one person i could maybe consider as actually having made a friend lives on basically the other side of the city. i want to go get food from kitchen so bad but i cant im gonna have to wait until later im not getting the laundry done. cant focus on the assignment. i have no idea how the fuck im meant to remedy this lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

[shadycwasont]

This was mainly inspired by other people's aus/fanfics like 2 souls, hamato spirit (I think that's what it's called haven't seen it is a bit) but basically the premise is that a ghost of the turtles from one iteration goes to another iteration pretty simple right?

Well, in this specific one, our ghostie turtles are actually from another one of my personal au, and it is to be explored in the fanfic, au- thing that I've got going on.

basically the spirits of each of the previous iteration of turtles is connected to their respective Turtle the Leo from before is going to leo, raph to raph etc, etc, the Spirits can only be seen by their respective Soul bound (that the name were going with for now)

Now featuring the 2012 turtles getting magic because they deserved it. A slight rewrite of a few characters (ahem donnie casey and april ahem). Airbender references. Trans leo. Autistic raph. (They're all Autistic but this specifically for el rn)(i've never seen anyone else use that nickname for raph, yet its one of my faves). Airbender fan content references, angst, fluff, crack, fluffy crack (that sounds so wrong 😂). Splinter simultaneously gets shit on (by the characters, not me i dont hate rat dad) and a somewhat support system at the same time. Emotional moments. possibly, just maybe, shitty art. And more. 🥳

Might post about it again, and I might orphan the idea for someone else 🤷‍♀️ who knows. I sure as hell dont.

[luveline]

I know you’re asking for Spencer fics… While I adore single dad!Spencer… How about some single mom!reader and Spencer? 💕

You and your daughter work your way into Spencer’s life one chess game at a time. fem, 1.3k

It all starts with, “Hello.” 

Spencer looks up, and he finds any word he could’ve said dead on his tongue. You smile at him oddly gentle, and he assumes he’s got something on his face your afraid to point out.

“Hi,” you say, unperturbed by his lack of response. You keep your head ducked but seem friendly enough as you lick your lips. “I don’t know if you’re busy, but I was wondering if you’d play chess with my daughter. You don’t have to say yes, but she’s really polite and she won’t cheat, and she really wants to say hi.” 

Spencer looks behind you, where your daughter stands a ways away pretending not to watch. She could only be three of your years old —if she can play chess, she’s a prodigy. She has on stripy tights and a dress, a vinyl coat open over the top, her hands wringing together. 

“Okay,” Spencer says. 

Your smile is even nicer, then. Relief and thankfulness aimed fully at him. “Thank you.” 

You meander back to your daughter and bend down to whisper instructions too quiet for Spencer to hear. Shy, your daughter shimmies forward, then walks proper steps when you encourage her with your hand behind her shoulder. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “let’s say hi.” 

The chess boards are built into the tables at the park. Spencer sits on one stone stool, and your daughter makes herself comfortable on the opposite one. You kneel beside her without worry, knees on the dirty floor. 

“Hi,” your daughter says. She has a high voice, reedy, like she needs a drink. 

You rub her arm. 

“Hello,” Spencer says. “Have you played before?” 

“Me and mom play.” 

“So you know the rules?” 

“Some,” she says. 

Spencer’s only human. He does think about the horror of being trapped opposite of a toddler for the next half an hour bumbling through the steps, but it’s not as though he has other things to do, and, really, he loves people. He’s scared of talking, that’s all. 

“We play a lot on my phone, where it tells her what moves she can and can’t do,” you say. “But it’s okay. I have practice, I can be the phone.” 

Your daughter laughs like this is the funniest thing on the planet. “You don’t look like a phone,” she says. 

“That’s nice of you, but that’s ‘cos you’ve never seen my wires.” 

She laughs again. 

“I know all the rules, too, don’t worry,” Spencer says. “Are those your pieces? Or we can play with mine?” 

“Sofie has her pieces, it’s okay, we don’t wanna lose yours.” 

You let your backpack slip down your back and unveil a chess board box with sellotaped corners. The sleeve inside is unhurt, and you put it in the middle of the table. Spencer takes initiative and grabs the purple ones. You and Sofie arrange the pink ones in a mirror. 

Sofie is surprisingly good at chess, considering her age. Sometimes Spencer ends up playing against you, your advice murmured in her ear, and every time you smile at him he feels a little nauseous.  

He lets her win, of course. The first few times, at least. Over weeks, you and Sofia occasionally see him in the park playing chess, some days in the middle of a game with someone else, other times alone. Sofie comes up to him increasingly confident to ask for the next game, and Spencer realises he’s somehow made two friends. 

“Spencer!” Sofie shouts, tumbling over the grass bank to stop on the end of the retaining wall bordering the chess tables. You’re just behind her, looking tired. 

“Sofie, hi!” 

Sofie jumps down off of the wall before either of you can stop her. “Spencer, where have you been?” She rockets toward him. He stands, worried she’ll fall flat on her face, but she continues to race toward him until she’s throwing her arms around his legs. “I missed you.” 

“Well, I missed you too,” he says, surprised. He gives her back a tentative pat. “I’ve been learning new techniques.” 

“But where did you go?” she asks. 

“I went to Alaska. It was super cold.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you greet, flushed as you plop down on the stone seat opposite him. 

Believe it or not (easily believable), Spencer didn’t ask you your name the first time you met. Or the second. On the third occasion you met, you actually apologised with too much sincerity and said, “I’m so sorry, I never asked what your name was. I can’t believe it. I’m Y/N.” 

So now you’re introduced, and Spencer has a raging crush on you. 

Spencer grins as Sofie sits on his seat, shuffling over so they can sit together. “What, you’re on my team today?” he asks her excitedly. 

“Yes!” She pats the chess board. “Mom, my pieces.” 

“It’s okay, we can use mine.” Spencer’s are already out on the table. He’d been hoping to see you both. 

“I won’t lose them,” Sofie promises. 

“I might. Where have you been, Spencer? Sof made us come here four times last week, we had to play chess with Melinda.” 

“I was working,” he says. “We’re always going somewhere far away, I didn’t realise we’d be there for so long.” 

“‘Cos he’s a special agent,” you whisper to Sofie. 

She puts a finger over her lips, “Mom, don’t so loud!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” You nudge a King back onto his square. “Did I blow your cover?” you ask, your voice a rolling murmur.

Spencer holds Sofie’s back reactively as she wiggles on the seat. He has an answer. He should play along —he’s been reading up on how to flirt like he’s not a lonely weirdo and that’s with confidence and running jokes, but the way you’re looking at him stops him in his tracks. 

No one ever mentions the panic of a shared smile. 

“What happens if people find out?” Sofie asks worriedly. 

“Nothing happens, Sofie, I’m the boring kind of special agent where nothing I do is a secret.” He winces at her crestfallen expression. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can have a secret mission together? Me, you, and mom?” 

“Really?” you ask, surprised. 

Spencer nods enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, of course.” 

“Like… dinner?” 

Spencer bites the tip of his tongue, to an immediate sting. It’s not the first time in his life a conversation he’s in has occurred without him: you’re shared smile was you flirting first. His reciprocation, while not intended, has served as flirtation. 

He didn’t mean to do it, but he doesn’t care, he won’t mess it up, “If you want to?” He clears his throat, his voice returning to a more acceptable tenor. “We could go for dinner… tonight.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Not tonight. Not… unless you want to?” 

“We didn’t have dinner yet,” Sofie says helpfully. 

Your gaze falls to the chess board. “I don’t think I’m dressed for dinner. I had such a long shift.” You’re shrugging, minimising yourself. 

Spencer moves his and Sofie’s first pawn. “You always look beautiful.” 

He cannot look at you after he says it, but he doesn’t need to. 

“Mom, you're doing that smile like when Mr. Mailman brings our letters.” 

“Thank, Sofie,” you say. 

Spencer sneaks a glance at your smile. It’s decidedly shy, and if he were to touch your cheek, he guesses he’d find your skin warming. “What does he do when he brings the letters?” Spencer asks. 

You pin him with wide eyes. 

“He says she’s pretty with a big ‘p’,” Sofie whispers. 

“She is pretty,” Spencer whispers back. 

You move a chess piece with a breathless laugh. “Okay, then let’s get dinner after I wipe the floor with you both.” 

Spencer decides now is the appropriate time to reveal that he is very good at chess. He and Sofie win in ten moves. 

[sapphiresandferrari]

His sweet girl

Summary: Aemond catches feelings for one of the girls at the brothel and his brother, Aegon, almost ruined everything

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x ocf!reader

Warnings: emotionally constipated Aemond, cunt Aegon, implied smut, lactation kink if you squint, fluff

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm Rosie and this is my first fic ever

Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, feel free to give me advices or suggestion, just be polite

English is NOT my first language, so apologies if there are any mistakes

Gif credits: @aegonx

Enjoy 🫶🏻

Aemond doesn’t know exactly when se became so important to him.

One night he went to the brothel for his usual service, the last weeks has been hectic, everything was overwhelming, his father’s death, Aegon’s coronation and Luke’s death, so he had to find a way to release the stress that it wasn’t training with ser Criston Cole.

So, when he arrived at the pleasure house, he thought that Madame Sylvi was waiting for him like she usually did for the last weeks, instead, one of the servants informed him that Madame was unavailable for that night, but that she had chosen another girl that would satisfy him as much as she did.

Hearing those words, made him want to turn around and leave, not comfortable with the idea of opening himself with a different woman than the one he was used to, yet something inside of him didn’t want to leave, he thought that if Madame Sylvi has personally chosen this girl, then maybe he should’ve give it a shot and try, see how it was.

After all, she knew him and his needs, especially with all the times they laid together, so he decided to trust her judgement, and let the servant guiding him to the secluded area prepared for him.

Once he moved the curtain, he found a girl, no more than few years older than him, laying on the bed, surrounded by pillows and candles: she was wearing a sheer robe, her hair down, thick and long dark locks were covering her, in her eyes an expression he was having a hard time to decipher, a mix of excitement and fear.

She was staring at him, taking her time to admire the beautiful and stoic man in front of her, he was exactly as the girls at the brothel and the small folk described him: his long silver hair, his purple eye, his fierce aura, he was a mesmerising sight.

As he approached her, he thought that he never saw her before at the brothel, he was trying to remember her small face but he simply couldn’t so he figured that she might be a new addiction there, yet if Sylvi chose her specifically, this means she wasn’t someone new.

He started to undress slowly, taking his time to look at the girl in front of him, her appearance was pleasant, she wasn’t exactly what he was searching, but she still had something magnetic in herself, she had a soft body, with plump breasts and wide hips, her body was different from the one of Madame, yet she still had something comforting that made him at ease right away.

She stood up, taking few steps and stopping in front of him, slightly bowing her head “good evening, my prince, Madame Sylvi apologise that she can’t serve you tonight, but she thought I might be a good enough substitute for you tonight”.

She extended a hand for him, which he took after few moments of silent, noticing how small it was compared to his, slowly walking him to the bed in the middle of the room.

“I’ve never saw you before, when did you start working here?”, he asked, curious to see if his assumption was correct

“Oh, I don’t exactly work here, my prince. My father sold me to Madame when I was a child and she thought I was too young to work here, so she kinda raised me like a daughter, usually I stay upstairs or I serve refreshments, I only work when she specifically asks me to”

So, she wasn’t a whore, not entirely at least, and this awakened something inside of him, he started wondering how many men she slept with, how many she pleased, if she was indeed able to please him as she said.

“Did you sleep with many men before? Are you sure you can serve me properly, child?”

“Not many men, but I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied my prince, and if you don’t trust my words, trust Madame’s judgement”

And so he did, and while he was thrusting inside her soft and warm flesh, he thought how different she was than Sylvi, how tight and wet she was, how her whimpers and moans were shy, how full she was making him feel.

He stayed there after he came, his head placed on her soft breasts, her hands caressing his hair and forehead, their breaths steady, her heartbeat calming, he felt well, satisfied with her service, his thoughts and troubles away for the time she was embracing him.

He told her about his worries, about his dreams, and what shocked him the most, was that she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she was thinking: she spoke calmly, without fear, but still in a respectful manner, not wanting to disrespect him nor his family, it was a rare thing, usually people lie to him or tells him half truth in order to not upset him, Sylvi included.

When he came back evenings after, he hoped to find her again, and he was slightly disappointed to see that Sylvi was waiting for him and not her once again.

Madame realised it too, she could feel a shift in his behaviour, at first thinking it was because of everything it was happening with the war and his family, but when he asked her where she was, her doubts became certainty.

“You don’t want my services anymore, my prince?”, she asked as they laid together after their highs, his head on her lap, curled up like a babe.

“Is not that, I like you and you help me a lot, but it was different with her, she understands me, she is not afraid to tell me the truth and actually gives me advises, she listens carefully and tells me what she thinks, it is a rare thing nowadays, everyone too scared to offend me and have me lose my patience

That’s why I want her to serve me from now on, you were good to me, but I think I found a better match”.

Sylvi wasn’t too pleased about this decision, she enjoyed the evenings with the prince, he treated her with respect, making her feel desired and appreciated, but he was still a prince, and if he didn’t want her services anymore, she had to accept it and move on, at the end of the day, he was still a paying costumer like everybody else, and her last goal was to please him, whether it happened personally or not.

Aemond kept going to the brothel almost every night, gently fucking her and then laying on the bed, his head on her chest, talking about his days, about his dysfunctional family, his plans for the war, and she stayed there, listening to him and caressing his head, and when he wasn’t talking, he was listening to her, talking about the books she was reading or about something she did that day, his lips sucking on one of her nipples lazily, eyes closed, eyepatch discharged somewhere on the bed, hand kneading the soft flesh of her hips.

He loved those moments, he felt at peace, somehow invincible, wondering if he will ever feel like this with another woman, but deep down knowing that no noble woman would be so understanding of him, especially not his betrothed.

It was during one of these nights that his brother, Aegon, had found him, ruining the only good thing he had in his life, Vhagar excluded.

They were there, entangled after their highs, the comfort of her arms making him feel so well, when his drunk brother opened the curtain, revealing himself to him and his mates, not wasting a second to humiliate him.

Aemond immediately got up, sitting there, looking somewhere on the floor, trying to steady his breath, listening to his brother rambling about him “fucking her like a hound”, watching her trying to cover herself for the embarrassment, shielding her body from his brother’s eyes.

He decided to leave, being too angry and humiliated, his brother rambling about searching for Madame to “make a man out of one of the white cloaks” but he found a better amusement after he saw his brother there

“You can have her, brother, one whore is as good as another” he said before taking his leave, the look of disappointment and heartbreaking in her face.

He couldn’t sleep that night, he kept seeing her disappointed face over and over again.

He knew he hurt her, that she had no fault for what happened, his brother was a drunken cunt, and she had to suffer the consequences for his stupid actions.

For days he contemplated about going there and apologise, explaining that he was not expecting for his brother be there, that he hasn’t gone to the brothel in years and he thought it was a safe space for him, away from his brother’s mess, yet he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t go there, relieving the memory of that night again.

In the end he decided to go, he was longing her touch, her softness, her sweetness, ha had to admit to himself (with an enormous amount of strength) that he needed her, so he went there one morning, when he knew anyone would’ve gone there and disturb them.

As he walked the street of silk, he kept thinking about what he wanted to tell her, trying to find the words to explain to her that he was sorry, that he understood if she didn’t want to be with him ever, but that he was still hoping for her forgiveness, since she knew how complicated his relationship with his brother was.

He knocked on the door, Sylvi opening it as he thought, looking at him hostilely

“What are you doing here, my prince”

“You know what I’m doing here, I want to speak with her”

“You hurt her, deeply, I don’t know if she wants to see you”

“Just…just ask her, please? I will leave if she does not want to speak with me”

Madame Sylvi looked at him one last time, before moving towards the rooms upstairs, allowing him to enter the brothel.

She came back a while back, telling him that he can go talk to her, but also to be quick, she didn’t want to give him too much time, she was very hurt by his actions.

He went upstairs, anxious and excited, wanting nothing more than explaining to her, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest at the thought of seeing her sweet face again.

His sweet girl, sited on the bed, a book between her hands, looking beautiful with the sun light, certainly different from the candlelight he was used to

“Good morrow, I know my visit is…unexpected, but I had to come, I had to talk to you”

“Good morrow, talk then, but make it quick, I will have to get ready for work soon, I have clients to take care of”

“Clients? I thought you weren’t fully working at the brothel, I don’t understand”

“After what happened that night, your brother’s guard told everyone how good I was, so a lot of men asked for me and Madame couldn’t refuse them, so now I work full time”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl, I really am, I didn’t want to treat you in such a way” he walked towards her, sitting slowly on the bed besides her, taking her hands on his and leaving some kisses on them “I swear I wish I said something that night, but my pride took the best of me; my brother was there, mocking me like he did when we were children, I couldn’t stay any longer.

Forgive me, sweet girl, you’re the only one I didn’t wish to hurt that night, yet you’re the one who suffered for my lack of temperament”

She stayed there, their hands still entwined, listening to his pleadings, wondering what was the best thing to do, reminding herself that he hurt her deeply, but also that he loved this man so much, that she couldn’t stay away from him any longer.

She kissed him while he was still talking, needing to feel his lips on hers once again, his hands on her once again, his cock deep inside her, feeling her to the brim with his seed, making her his and his only.

As he thrusts inside her, hips snapping, his hands kneading the soft flesh of her hips, they never felt so good in their life, so at peace, so happy.

They kissed and bit and marks each other, and in Aemond’s mind, the only thought was that she was his and he wasn’t going to let any man take her from him, the only good thing in his life.

She was his sweet girl, only his.