OBERYN MARTELL.

My belly is so filled with flames——it’s arousal, in truth, when you gut me. I want to see your rage. I’ll call you by any other name but your own. Show me your fury and tease me hard with carnage. Let me taste your contempt.

You bleat like a sheep when you yearn. Stop it.

Make me cry or make me come——or both, pretty please!

Be violent. I love you best with my blood on your face, coating your teeth.

and if the heart is rotten 𖤠

❝Pretty girls are far few between.❞

ㅤ such things are certainly the fabric of dreams, for those of us who lack the agency to do as we please and only that. but how do you propose to turn the realm from its traditions and unto your practises? perhaps you intend to personally advocate your cause to each person. ㅤ

It is the song of hypocrites, to condemn in the light of day the very sins they commit in the cover of darkness.

If only everyone everywhere thought that way, im afraid it isnt so clear.

⠀ and what do you think of rewarding duty, discipline and fealty? are these not reasons to stay faithful and confine oneself to one's marital bed? ⠀