#warlord v warlord

[sweeneydino]

Krell ship.

[jicklet]

Ahsoka 1.08 || Star Wars Rebels 2.20

Remember where Sabine learned that move? 😄

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

I must admit I always thought buggy wouldn’t want to brag about his romantic connection to shanks because people who know him see him as someone who’s worthless and tries to beg his way through life And sleeping with someone much more powerful in that situation seems like using bed to get what you want and I don’t think buggy would want to be seen this way especially when it comes to shanks

i think that's definitely something to take into consideration with a shanks/buggy get-together in buggy's pre-emperor days.

if they've been together since they were both young upstarts, well, the people who think he's a gold-digger simply can't do basic math. but if they don't get together until shanks is widely recognized as one of the most powerful pirates in the world, then... yeah, it looks suspect. same as anyone attempting to romance an emperor, if it doesn't appear to have political motives then it appears manipulative.

which... buggy is, but he's not sexually manipulative. he steals his treasures honestly, thank you very much.

[maidot]

dota hater #1 :3

[mandysxmuses]

@mortau wants some unhinged Toddie roasts and this was the first I could think of

"Hansuke, this sorta shit is why I have a girlfriend, while your head's stuffed up a body pillow's ass."

[rrradiorrrebel]

Yuuuurrh, we outchea!

[mingos]

@chatcambrioleur ❤️'d for a loaded question.

　　❝ is all that hoarded beri meant to fill some sort of void? ❞

[silvcrignis]

The Rodeo Outfit Is A Party Foul || Keira Black’s like 6th Skank Outfit

“Yeehaw, y’alls go on & gits ta runnin’, fleshbags!”

Just preTend there’s a loop on the shorts to attach the whip pls

[iminmywritersdungeon]

Been thinking about Arcane and good parents v loving parents. Parents who care so so deeply but are toxic and poisonous.

Silco loves his daughter but he put a gun in her hand. He would give his life for that girl but he wouldn’t heal for her. He would burn the world to the ground but he wouldn’t plant a tree.

Vander seems cold and uncaring but he fights for those kids until his dying breath. He’s gruff and mean, he takes his kids things and he punishes them but he shows them what it means to live the way they do, what it means to be angry and to see where that anger goes.

Ambessa Medarda loves her daughter but she is a warlord, a conqueror. If her daughter fails to fit the mold then she will be conquered too. She will chisel away at the marble of her children and when the cracks become visible she will toss them out, and when golden tears bleed through the chips in the stone she will cry out “I did it for you!” And yet they are empty words. The golden sunburst of her daughter will wilt in her shadow.

Cassandra kiramman is so cold and venomous and like a disease to everything her daughter loves, but she also gets them a meeting with the council. She spreads her vulture wings over her daughter, clouding the sun, drowning her, and still dutifully feeds her when she asks oh so nicely, when she can no longer deny her.

Ximena Talis is both loving and good because she does what she needs to keep her son safe and by god does she love him. She will make the sacrifices and make the choices and make sure her son can live the life that he almost lost.

Singed is like Viktor’s father, but Viktor will be crushed underfoot if he cannot make sacrifices, love and legacy. He will tear his own body to shreds and he will look into that scarred face and he will feel his body destroy him.

And of course, there are Jinx and VI’s birth parents. We know nothing about them, not their names, who they were, whether they were cold or warm or caring or cruel. What we know is that they were on that bridge. What we know is that they wanted better.

Parenthood will rip you to shreds if you cannot handle it. It will riddle you with bullets and it will cry over your corpse are you willing to lose them, are they willing to lose you?

Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

[sheloveschai]

bathing with ambessa (18+)

dom! ambessa x fem! reader

older woman/younger woman, slight exhibitionism, thigh-riding, sub! reader

i cannot get this woman out of my head sitting on her lap (or her face) would solve so many of my problems URRGGHHH

“breathe, child.”

water sloshes against the sides of the luxurious bathing pool- a shuddered gasp echos back off the blue and gold mosaic walls of the room.

a bead of sweat rolls down your spine as a partially nude worker dumps another vessel of water near your bodies, and with it, a veil of steam rises giving the illusion of intimate privacy from the guards on standby.

ambessa, in all her esteemed glory, lounges lazily with her head tipped back over the edge of the pool- a warm cloth draped over her eyes. a goblet, which lays in a large rugged hand, is filled near to the brim with a rich red wine.

the other rests on the hollow of your throat- a calloused thumb ever so gently brushing over your slick skin.

“good, little one,” the warlord practically purrs. a grin graces her lips as she feels your hands slip from her shoulders and down to her submerged abdomen, your hands pressing against her scarred v-line for leverage.

her hand, in return, glides from your throat, over your shoulder, before disappearing down under the water to rest on the curve of your rocking hips- not guiding, not pushing, just to simply rest upon.

“such a needy little thing,” she hums. “taking what you so desire.”

a shaky exhale escapes your lips at her words. her low and husky voice adding to your sinuous desires. your nails ever so slightly dig into her intimidating physique as your cunt throbs in need.

with your slick folds spread open over the impressive muscle of her thigh, your clit rubs deliciously over the bumps and ridges of her battle-won scars.

your wanton gasps and whines ring throughout as your head tips forward in deadweight- causing your gaze to connect with the older woman’s breasts.

just beneath the water you can make out her soft nipples. her breasts are heavy and ripened with age, and though not littered with scars won over battles, stretch marks ripple over them like hieroglyphs seen carved into ancient monumental displays.

your hand moves quicker than your brain and suddenly you’re cupping one of her breasts, raising it up and out of the water- exposing it to the colder air. you practically watch in awe as her dark nipple hardens between your fingers as you press and flatten the heavy globe against her chest.

and without a second thought, you’re lurching forward and enveloping her nipple into your warm mouth. you would’ve swallowed her whole if you could’ve, but instead you resort to swirling the sensitive bud around your tongue; licking, nipping, sucking as though you were trying to milk her.

“look at you,” ambessa rasps, a hint of humor underlaying her lust. “starving for my body. my, you’d do anything to have a taste, wouldn’t you, child?”

a low groan rumbles out of ambessa’s chest at the feeling of the scrape of your teeth, the wet heat of your tongue. in an effort to take more of her breast into your mouth, your knee presses against the slick folds of her cunt as you slide further down her thigh.

and the fearsome warlords back, ever so slightly, arches off the edge of the tub.

“like a kitten in heat, you are” she taunts, though there is no covering how she bucks her hips up in order to grind her aching pussy against you.

she begins to move in time with you, the friction your knee provided sending bolts of pleasure straight to her core.

her position of leisure and relaxation did not slip, though. with her legs still spread wide, head tilted back, ambessa had the clear headedness to bring her steel goblet up to her lips without spilling a drop of the red liquid.

with an air of authority, she licks the remnants from her now stained mouth, stretching her arm back over the edge of the pool to set the cup down- without a tremor to be seen.

with both of her hands now free, she removes the cloth from her face, revealing her dark lust-stricken gaze.

her hand slowly delves between your legs, separating your slick cunt from her thigh. she teases you for a moment, smirking as she rubs your aching nub with a feather-light touch, before pressing a digit to your entrance.

“there you go, sweet girl,” ambessa praises, sliding another thick digit along her first, your walls fluttering around the intruding appendages. “now you may have my touch.”

her thumb continues to rub slowly circles on your clit as her fingers pump in and out of you at a relentless pace.

“cum for me” she murmurs huskily as she gazes down at your desperate form still suckling at her tit. “show me how my body brings you pleasure.”

she could feel your body tensing, your muscles coiling tight as she worked her fingers inside you. she could tell you were close, the way you desperately clung to her- the way your walls squeezed around her, urging her deeper.

and it wasn’t until she curled them just right, hitting that spot inside you that had you seeing stars, did you cum.

your body convulsed, muscles squeezing around her fingers as wave after wave of pleasure came crashing down upon you. ambessa held you close as you rode out your orgasm. your body shook, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

she could practically feel your heart pounding against her chest. and as you slowly came down from your high, you pressed soft kisses and licks into the bitten skin of her breast.

“enough, child” she grunts, finally pulling you away from her raw nipple. “i desire your mouth elsewhere now.”

[lizzyiii]

Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ​​and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

Just a light one for me while I get back on my feet with these videos.

[mandysxmuses]

😞 can i get sad (or perhaps mildly irritated) warverse bois

Todlich didn't know how to respond to the news of what Jemand had been sending him all this time... all he really knew was that he wanted to react violently. That was the typical plan when he was wronged, and vice versa, so there was no reason not to go for that now.

Homicide would have been the ideal option, but given the anti-magic cuffs, he couldn't guarantee it wouldn't be a complete death sentence... but he had one other idea that would probably teach the same lesson.

He encountered Jemand in the bathroom, having just finished a shower, currently looking with disgust at the clothing he had to wear.

"... It's all black and white, y'know, but it doesn't have any style to it. I want to go back to making my own clothes already. These are so boring, I'm gonna look like some average Joe... I don't do average Joe..." He complained idly, glancing at Todlich before directing his attention at the mirror again.

The taller man stared down at him, inhaled slowly, and then gave a slow and deliberate nod. "Yeah. That sucks. Anyway, I need your help with something."

"Mhm?"

"... You sent me a text earlier, but-- you know, I can't read and I don't really know what it actually says..." He muttered, and couldn't contain himself from scowling when he heard Jemand snicker. "Yeah, that's funny, I know."

"Relax, relaaaaaax... can't read, no biggie." Jemand turned and pretty much laid out the trap for himself before Todd even brought it up. "Did you want me to read it for you? I didn't want to spoil the surprise completely, is all."

Perfectly manicured fingers gestured to the message on the screen.

"I was just saying that things have been going surprisingly well, you were doing most of the work, and I was thinking of getting you a new cat when we got back to the Void to make up for it."

... It was stunning, how easily and shamelessly he could lie. Straight to people's faces, all the time. Straight to his. But there was a satisfying hint of fear in those emerald eyes when he noticed Todd's expression hadn't changed at all.

When he realized he wasn't buying it.

"I'm serious, one of those Sphynx cats you love so much, y'know? Eesh, if you want it to be orange and fluffy instead, that's cool, hip, down with the..."

Nothing was changing. Attempting to sweeten the deal did nothing to lower his skepticism.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He saw Todd's thumb lift over the message, and tap it. ... Then, he heard it read aloud by an automated voice, and felt the color drain from his face.

This was normally around the time Jemand would try thinking of some sort of defenses aside from more lies -- weapons, portals out, escape routes anywhere he could get them... but with no magic on his side to help with that, it was just him and a considerably stronger man who had already been violent countless times before staring him down.

And he just now realized he'd had his other arm behind his back the entire time, likely concealing some form of weapon.

Great.

"O-kay... I... see where you're coming from, you're... probably a little upset." He mumbled, taking a step -- and then two -- back. There was barely any distance made. Where could he actually go, in the bathroom? "I'm serious about the cat thing, though, I just... sent that text when I was a little upset and frustrated and I-I figured you wouldn't read it, so..."

Todlich sighed. Even now, with evidence clearly spelled out, he was doubling down. 'Serious about the cat thing'. Holy shit.

"Yeah. A new friend of mine showed me how to do that. A better friend. But I'm sure you when you sent that you definitely had making a kitty for me in mind. ... Look, even if I did eat that bullshit up, it wouldn't explain some other shit you sent me."

".. You-- you don't want to do anything crazy, here, this isn't the Void, you'd-- you'd get in actual trouble for hurting me. Nobody wants you freaking the fuck out and attacking me. So just... chill, and--"

"When the fuck did I ever care about what would keep me in these cuffs, Jemand? ... I'm not gonna kill you. I won't even cut you, probably, but ..."

Jemand jumped as he heard something click and begin to buzz loudly from behind him.

"I think I'm gonna make you a Sphynx."

[suppenzeit]

obsessed with kirmukarmu object

[mingos]

@buraiikan // continued from [ here ]

　　❝ you didn't. but, as the sayーthe best advice is often unsolicited. ❞

　do people say that? or was it 'the best advice comes from unexpected places'? he's unsure, actually. oh well; he said it, so he supposes that makes the statement true either way.

doflamingo, ever the instigator, peered past jinbei's shoulder towards the human he had just been arguing with. he made eye contact with her, looked back at jinbei, and then back at her, snickering as if jinbei had just made an unpleasant comment about her to him. the blonde turned his back to her before he could gauge her reaction, but he hoped it was something angry.

　　❝ ignorance often does breed downfall, doesn't it? several members of my family were killed because of their ignorance. unfortunate, but it's certainly taught me a lot. ❞

[cal-kestis]

AHSOKA: PART 8 – The Jedi, The Witch, and The Warlord STAR WARS: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back