You bathe in exotic Dornish pomade, its sweet scent driving your devoted husband Ormund wild. He carries your dripping body to bed, devours you with tender passion, then makes slow, loving love to you, whispering sweet words until you both collapse in cuddly, blissful afterglow. Pure Hightower heaven.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; explicit sexual content, fingering, oral (female receiving), rough sex, gentle sex, minors dni.
Right; edit.
I KNOW WHAT POMADE IS, AS THIS FIC WILL HAVE A SECOND PART THAT WILL REVEAL WHY I SAID POMADE!! AND WHY I CHOSE IT.
You sink deeper into the steaming copper tub, the warm water lapping gently against your skin as the extravagant pomade from Dorne dissolves around you.
The merchants had promised it was a rare blend, sandalwood and myrrh from the southern sands, laced with sweet desert blooms and a hint of spice that clings to the air like a lover's whisper. It had cost a small fortune in gold and favors, but the moment you pour it in, the chamber fills with a heady, intoxicating scent that makes even the servants blush as they withdraw.
The oil slicks your body, turning your skin soft and luminous under the flickering candlelight of your private solar in Oldtown. You run your hands along your arms, feeling the luxurious glide, and a quiet smile curves your lips. Ormund has been away all day in council, buried in matters of the Hightower and the realm, but you know he will come to you soon. He always does.
The door creaks open sooner than expected. You glance up through the haze of steam and see him, your husband, tall and broad-shouldered in his fine doublet, his dark hair catching the light. Ormund Hightower, Lord of the Hightower, stops dead in the threshold, his sharp eyes widening as the scent hits him fully.
“My love,” he breathes, voice already roughening. He closes the door behind him with deliberate care, but his gaze devours you, tracing the curve of your shoulders, the way the pomade makes the water shimmer on your breasts, the subtle flush rising on your cheeks. “What... what is that?”
You tilt your head innocently, though heat pools low in your belly at the hunger in his expression. “A gift from Dorne, husband. Do you like it?”
He steps closer, shedding his cloak without thought. The scent wraps around him like invisible chains, and you watch his chest rise and fall faster. Devoted as he is—always gentle in public, fierce and attentive in private—something primal stirs in him now. His hands clench at his sides as if fighting the urge to reach for you immediately.
“Like it?” Ormund's voice drops to a growl. He kneels beside the tub, one large hand dipping into the water to trail along your thigh, the oil making his touch glide like silk.
“Gods, woman... you smell like sin and summer itself. It's driving me mad.” His fingers press firmer, possessive, pulling a soft gasp from your lips. “I can barely think. All I want is to bury myself in you, taste every inch coated in this... this torment.”
You laugh softly, reaching up to cup his jaw, drawing him closer until his forehead rests against yours. The steam curls between you, thick with that exotic fragrance. “Then don't think, my lord. Take what is yours.”
Ormund's control snaps with a low groan. He captures your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, his devoted hands sliding into the water to lift you effortlessly against him, water sloshing over the tub's edge. The pomade's scent intensifies with every movement, fueling the fire in his eyes as he carries you toward the bed, dripping and glistening, ready to lose himself completely in the wife who knows exactly how to unravel him.
You laugh breathlessly as Ormund lifts you from the tub without a moment's hesitation, strong arms cradling your slick, oil-slicked body against his chest.
Water cascades down your skin, soaking through his fine doublet and leaving dark patches on the fabric, but he doesn't care. His eyes are dark with lust, the exotic scent of the Dornish pomade clinging to you like a drug that has him utterly addicted.
“My wife,” he murmurs hoarsely, carrying you across the chamber as if you weigh nothing. Droplets trail behind you on the stone floor, but his gaze never leaves your face, your breasts, the way the oil makes every curve of your body gleam invitingly.
He lays you down on the large bed with surprising gentleness for a man so consumed, but the moment your back hits the soft furs and silks, his patience evaporates.
Ormund drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide. “That scent... Seven Hells, it's everywhere.” He leans in, inhaling deeply against your inner thigh, lips brushing your wet skin.
Then his mouth is on you, hot, hungry, and relentless.
You arch off the bed with a sharp cry as his tongue drags slowly through your folds, savoring the mix of your arousal and the sweet, spiced pomade. He doesn't tease; he devours. His devoted mouth seals around your clit, sucking and licking with a fervor that makes your toes curl. One of his hands slides up your body to cup your breast, thumb circling your nipple, while the other holds your hip steady, fingers digging in possessively.
“Mmm,” he groans against you, the vibration sending sparks through your core. “So sweet. So wet for me.” His tongue plunges inside you, lapping deeply, then returns to your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking and circling with expert precision honed from years of learning exactly what makes you unravel. The scent drives him wild, each breath he takes only makes him more insatiable, his groans growing louder as he eats you out like a starving man at a feast.
Your fingers thread through his hair, gripping tight as pleasure builds fast and overwhelming. “Ormund— gods...” Your hips buck against his face, but he holds you firmly, refusing to let you escape the intensity. He looks up at you briefly, eyes burning with love and raw desire, his chin glistening with your juices, before diving back in with renewed hunger.
He doesn't stop until your thighs are trembling around his head and your moans echo through the solar, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every devoted stroke of his tongue.
Your body tightens like a bowstring, thighs clamping around his head as the pleasure crashes over you.
Ormund’s tongue never falters, relentless, worshipful, lapping and sucking until you come undone with a shattered cry. Waves of ecstasy rip through you, your hips grinding against his mouth as you soak his tongue and chin. He moans deeply into your core, drinking every drop like it’s the finest vintage in Westeros, his devoted hands stroking your trembling thighs until the last shudder fades.
Before you can catch your breath, he rises, flipping you onto your stomach with effortless strength. Your cheek presses into the cool silks, ass raised invitingly, skin still glistening with oil and water.
You hear the frantic rip of fabric, Ormund tearing at his own clothes, doublet buttons scattering across the floor, breeches shoved down in a frenzy. The pious Lord of Oldtown, ever faithful to the Seven and to you, growls low in his throat as he fists his thick, aching cock.
“Forgive me, my love,” he rasps, voice wrecked with need, “but this scent has me possessed.”
A sharp smack lands on your arse, the sound cracking through the chamber. You gasp at the sting, heat blooming across your skin where his palm connected.
He groans at the sight, your flesh jiggling, the red imprint of his hand marking you, then does it again, harder, before gripping your hips and lining himself up.
He does not hesitate.
With one powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside your slick heat. The stretch is exquisite, his thick length filling you completely as he snarls in pleasure. “Fuck— so tight, so perfect…” He sets a brutal pace immediately, hips snapping forward, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing with every deep stroke.
Ormund fucks you into the mattress like a man driven mad. Each thrust is possessive, claiming, his pious restraint shattered by the intoxicating Dornish pomade still rising from your skin. One hand fists in your hair, the other braces beside your head as he leans over you, chest pressed to your back, lips at your ear.
“You’re mine,” he growls, pounding harder, deeper, the bed creaking beneath you. “My wife. My everything.” His hips slap loudly against your reddened arse, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again. He reaches beneath you to rub your swollen clit in tight circles, determined to pull another climax from your already sensitive body.
The room fills with your mingled moans, the heady scent, and the obscene sound of him taking you so thoroughly. He fucks you without mercy, lost in the pleasure, until stars burst behind your eyes once more and you clench around him like a vice. Only then does he follow with a broken roar, spilling deep inside you in hot, pulsing ropes, his body shuddering against yours as he claims you completely.
Even in his release, his arms wrap around you protectively, lips pressing tender kisses to your shoulder, devoted even when he’s fucking you into sweet oblivion.
You lie there panting, body still trembling from the force of your shared release, his seed warm and leaking between your thighs. But Ormund is far from finished. The Dornish pomade clings to your skin like an aphrodisiac haze, and he inhales sharply, eyes fluttering half-closed as another wave of raw hunger overtakes him.
With a low, possessive growl, he flips you onto your back once more, spreading your legs wide around his hips. His cock, still hard and slick with your combined pleasure, presses against your entrance.
He sinks into you slowly this time, inch by deliberate inch, stretching you open again with a deep, satisfied groan that vibrates against your chest.
“Gods… you feel like heaven,” he whispers, voice rough and reverent. Fully seated inside you, he pauses, savoring the tight, wet heat, his forehead resting against yours. Then he begins to move, long, slow, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot within you.
His mouth finds yours in a deep, devouring kiss, tongue tangling with yours as he fucks you with unhurried intensity. He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, sucking gently at the pulse point there before moving lower to lave at your breasts. His lips close around one nipple, tongue flicking as he groans against your skin, the vibration sending fresh sparks through you.
Every thrust is deep and purposeful, his hips grinding against yours at the end of each stroke, pressing against your clit. One of his hands cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, while the other roams, squeezing your breast, sliding down to grip your arse, pulling you even closer so he can bury himself as deep as possible.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against your collarbone, kissing and nipping at your oil-slicked skin. “Every sigh, every tremble… all mine.” His pace remains slow but relentless, building the pleasure gradually until you’re writhing beneath him, nails digging into his broad back.
The scent of the pomade swirls around you both with every movement, keeping him achingly hard, keeping his devotion twisted into something primal and insatiable. He kisses you again, slower, deeper, as he fucks you into a blissful haze, bodies pressed together, hearts pounding in sync, lost in each other for as long as the night allows.
You melt beneath him as Ormund’s rhythm stays slow and tender, each deep thrust measured and loving. Sweat glistens on his skin now, tracing down the strong lines of his chest and back, making his body slide slickly against yours. The heat between you is overwhelming, but he holds you close, one arm wrapped beneath your shoulders while his other hand gently cups your face.
“My beautiful wife,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, voice low and husky with affection. “You undo me… every time.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, then trail soft kisses along your jaw. “I love you more than the stars in the sky, more than the Hightower itself.”
He rolls his hips in a languid circle, pressing deep and grinding against that perfect spot inside you, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. His breath hitches as your walls flutter around him, but he keeps the pace gentle, savoring every moment. Sweat beads on his brow and drips onto your chest, mingling with the shimmering oil still coating your skin.
“You feel so good wrapped around me,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck, inhaling that maddening Dornish scent that still clings to you. “So warm… so perfect. I could stay buried inside you forever.” His words are punctuated by slow, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in with aching tenderness.
He kisses you deeply again, tongue stroking yours in time with his movements, then pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “You are my heart, my home. My everything.” Another slow thrust, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek as he watches your face with pure devotion. “Come for me again, my love. Let me feel you.”
His free hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and circling with gentle pressure as he continues making tender love to you, sweat-slick, scent-drenched, and utterly lost in the intimacy of the moment. The pleasure builds like a warm tide, his sweet murmurs and devoted touches guiding you closer and closer to the edge once more.
You cling to him as the pleasure crests once more, your body trembling beneath his as you come apart with a soft, breathy moan of his name. Ormund follows right after, burying himself deep with a low, loving groan, spilling inside you again as his arms tighten around you protectively.
For a long moment, the only sounds are your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the hearth. He stays inside you as he gently collapses over you, careful not to crush you with his weight.
Then, with a tired but utterly content smile, he rolls onto his back and pulls you on top of him, your bodies still joined and sticky with sweat, oil, and love.
His large hand strokes soothing circles up and down your back while the other tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear. The exotic scent of the pomade lingers sweetly in the air, softer now, like a warm embrace.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice warm with affection as he gazes up at you with those devoted violet eyes. “My fierce, beautiful wife… absolutely glowing.” He leans up to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then the tip of your nose, making you giggle softly. “I think I’m going to have that pomade declared a danger to House Hightower. One more bath like that and I may never leave this bed again.”
You rest your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as his fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin. He chuckles quietly, the sound rumbling through you both, and wraps his arms more securely around you.
“I love you,” he whispers, pressing one last tender kiss to your temple. “More than anything in this world or the next. Stay right here with me, my heart. Let the rest of the world wait until morning.”
Exhausted, sated, and wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off into a peaceful sleep, his devoted hold never loosening, the faint, sweet scent of Dorne still dancing around you like a promise of many more nights like this.
Okay guys listen Ive been listening to this new like "subliminal" I think? Basically it's from alnuir and it's called "150+ DR QUESTIONS MASTERLIST // Effortless shifting." I've been using it lately for when I'm on a break so yes it gives me motivation but it also helps me sleep at night because I often have nightmares and since I'm thinking about like nice things and stuff it helps. So I think for when your on a break or not on a break you could try it, it's really fun as well so I hope it helps for anyone.
So like we all know a lot of jkr's worldbuilding/writing sucked, and created a lot of plot holes. As a long time hogwarts shifter i was always worried about learning and actually using her currency (like how embarrassing would it be to lose count for purchases of 20+ galleons😓 or forgetting how many knuts are in a sickle). So i scripted this.
First what i changed was the values of each coin because like 435 knuts to a galleon was so random. instead now its
100 knuts = 4 sickels = 1 galleon
this made more since to me as knuts would be like cents and sickels like quarters. But i mostly just wanted to use a system that the values where easily rememberable and made sense.
The cannon muggle money conversion, although heavily debated is
1 galleon = 5 pounds (or about 8.05 dollars in 1976)
I chose to keep this because I'm lazy lol and in my dr inflation is impossible for the British wizarding world because Gringotts takes great pride in being exact (and isn't controlled by the ministry). This also makes sense as galleons are not fully gold in my dr. Why you my ask well that is because Geilds are.
Individually counting each coin for every purchase would be so tedious, so to help i added Geilds. They are
10 galleons = 1 Geild
although not a big jump it is a LOT easier to count out 10 Geilds rather than 100 galleons. Galleons are still the most common way of listing things, but for things like 30 galleon school books most people would pay in Geilds.
cheques also exist, they are like checks that also can be used for subscriptions you would just write the amount and timeline for it.
With every Gringotts vault opened they give the user a coin pouch that when reached into, the vault owner and only the vault owner can grab the amount of coins (or anything in the vault) that they are thinking of. Gringotts also offers to enchant the pouch with limits of how much can be taken out in a certain amount of time (like only fifty galleons a month or only twenty galleons each time you grab money), and for 5 galleons they can put the pouch enchantment on any bag you bring in.
🪷 you're immune to bad breath, body odor and smelly feet. even after workout, you smell fresh and clean.
🪷 your body only sweats normal water. you never get sticky, get smelly sweat stains on your clothes etc.
🪷 your teeth are pearly white and healthy. you are completely immune to cavities, plaque and "morning breath"...
🪷 your skin is permanently smooth and clean. you are immune to razor burns, acne, pimples, cuts, stubble, ingrown hair, blackheads etc.
🪷 you look naturally gorgeous the second you wake up. you never get dark eye circles or morning bloating.
🪷 your eyebrows are perfectly shaped and never need to be plucked or filled in.
🪷 your skin and lips never get chapped or dry in cold weather, and you never get sunburned or peeling skin in hot weather.
🪷 your hair is shiny, healthy, and soft. it never gets greasy, oily, or tangled, and it never gets frizzy.
🪷 your fingernails and toenails are always clean, strong, and shaped. they never chip, split, or collect dirt underneath them.
🪷 the skin on your hands, elbows, and feet is soft, smooth, and moisturized. you are completely immune to cracked heels or dry knuckles.
🪷 you're naturally beautiful, no matter what you do or what you wear. you look stunning when sleeping, running, walking etc. and you look gorgeous in every clothing, makeup and accessories.
🪷 you get prettier and prettier everyday. you always wake up looking more mesmerizing than yesterday.
🪷 your bareface is absolutely stunning. you naturally look angelic and divine. you always look approachable.
🪷 for angelic beauty, for ethereal beauty, for cute beauty
♱ hogwarts . . . professor, deputy head, headmistress, librarian, tutor, groundskeeper, caretaker, high inquisitor, hogwarts board of governor position
♱ ministry of magic (misc) . . . ministry official, office and support staff (receptionist, typical employee), personal assistant, senior undersecretary to the minister, executioner, advisor to the minister, exotic symbol analyst, quill control and rune translation, special advisor for elf legislation, junior assistant to minister
Actionable Ideas for Challenging Infold Over Valko's Release (Updated!)
A lot of LADS fans are really upset over Infold's decision to shelve Valko. This is my attempt at creating action items for fans wanting to do something but are unsure where to start.
Here are some methods for giving Infold feedback:
Sign this petition and this petition
Reply to their posts on X (Twitter)
Comment on their Instagram posts and unfollow them
Comment on their Facebook posts and unfollow them
Comment on their YouTube videos and unfollow them
Comment on their XHS/RedNote posts and unfollow them
Join their official Discord Server and voice your dissatisfaction
Leave a 1-star review on the Apple App Store or the Google Play Store
Complete the survey in the Love and Deepspace app by selecting the box/pencil icon in the top right corner of the home screen
"Suggest" Valko's release in the Love and Deepspace app by going to Settings > More > Support, then select "Suggestion"
(If you want to be slightly passive-aggressive) On 9 July, go to Settings > More > Support, then select "Bug Report" and fill out the report stating that the promised Valko content is missing
Uninstall the LADS app after sending feedback, unless you want to continue using Support as another place to give repeated feedback
Remember: if we want Infold to listen to us, we MUST remain persistent, civil, and demonstrate our affection for the game. I highly doubt they will be intimidated by non-CN players, which means we are held to a different standard. What is effective for them will not be effective for us.
With that said, remember these do's and dont's:
Do vary your written feedback. Making each piece of feedback you give at least slightly different, particularly in emails, will ensure your thoughts are not filtered out.
Do repeatedly submit/post/send your feedback over the next few weeks. Email them today, in a few days, on 9 July, and in the weeks after. Post on their social media every day. Overwhelm them and show them this isn't going to go away over a few free Wishes.
Do prepare to CONTINUE submitting/posting/sending your feedback over the next few months. Infold needs to see that we won't let this issue go. Schedule emails to be sent to them over the next 3 months. Draft X posts today and copy and paste them to post in a few months time. Draft your long-form in-app feedback in preperation for the update and the upcoming banners. Create reminders to check and comment on their posts weekly. Don't let them get comfortable. Be a dog with a bone (lol).
Do maintain a polite tone in your feedback (even when you are issuing a threat like leaving the game).
Do specify your current disappointments, long-term criticisms, and expectations for the future of the game should you continue to play. For example, don't just say you want more Main Story updates; specify that you want them every three months.
Do clearly isolate your long-term issues with the game from the current issue of Valko's release. Make it clear that those issues are not resolved by delaying or permanently canceling Valko's debut.
Do talk positively about whatever you can (ie. enjoying other LIs, enjoying the content of the Main Story itself, appreciating the worldbuilding, etc). This may feel difficult, but it demonstrates that you are a passionate player. Infold can assume that a player so invested in the game would need something drastic to push them to leave.
Don't use profanity.
Don't reference CN players.
Don't bring up Infold's past mistakes. We need to stay focused on the current issues.
Don't criticize anything about Valko's teased content. This one may be unpopular, I know. If Infold is pulling back Valko's release, I don't think it's likely that they will be willing to invest any more time and money into his development. If they continue to get more and more criticisms about him and don't care to change anything about him, they will never release him. I'm not minimizing any fan's concerns; I'm suggesting we choose a priority.
If you are unsure where to start, here are some talking points:
Express your excitement over Valko (bonus points if you give reasons why). Did you come back from a long hiatus for him?
Express your disappointment over not having Valko in the game. How will it impact your enjoyment of the game?
Describe how you prepared for his anticipated arrival.
• In-game (farm for dias, bought packs, etc)
• On your devices (created storage space, bought a new device, etc)
• Financially (budgeted for buying packs upon his release, etc)
Describe how you engaged in fandom around Valko. Did you create fanart, fanfiction, or other fanworks? How much were you consuming fanworks showcasing him? Demonstrating how beloved he was before any real content of his being released indicates a warm reception if/when he is released.
What are the current issues you experience with the game? Be specific. Describe exactly how they impact your gameplay. Suggest a concrete way those issues could be resolved. Assert that Valko's release being postponed or canceled will not resolve these issues.
Express concern for the changes to their planned story arc his absence would create. Question if those changes would be as enjoyable as their original plan.
(If you're feeling up to it) Acknowledge the amount of time, effort, and money that must have gone into creating Valko. Let them know it would disappoint you to see it go to waste.
Infold made a terrible decision. We need to take action and let Infold know that a large portion of the LADS fanbase wants Valko to be released at some point. Let's try to remain positive where we can, engage in positive fandom, and do our best to make our voices heard by Infold.
Thanks to @shivasdarknight, @adehsroyal, and @alyxzenia for their contributions!
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