#The pig king has arrived | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashmouth-richie · 2 years ago

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[vol i] [vol ii] [vol iii]

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie is slowly becoming easier to live with you’re not sure if you’re just used to his disgusting behavior or if he’s truly trying to change. You make a schedule for chores and when/who/what time showers will be taken, chaos ensues on both Eddie and you. Eddie reveals a side of him that reader hasn’t seen/ noticed before.

W/C: 6.4k

A/N: if you were looking for some disgusting! Eddie smut this is the chapter for you babe.

Warnings: NO MINORS! Smut, blow jobs, rough sexual acts, degrading, daddy!kink, vomit, crude language (as if any of my fics don’t have this)

S/O: @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @boomhauer @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @banished-big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @newlips for helping me beta read, come up with dialogue, pacing, letting me insert them throughout the fic, helping me breakdown how this disgusting little mf would act in certain situations + everything in between! You guys are the best! If you aren’t already— follow them.

You couldn’t deny that things had gotten better with having Eddie as a roommate (not that you would ever express that to him) but living with the overgrown child was slightly very slightly, like a teeny tiny bit, better than it was before.

After living in his disgusting cluster fuck of a room for a week, Eddie finally sat down amongst his heap of mixed dirty and clean clothes and organized it. The disaster made your eye twitch every time you walked past his room in the morning and got a whiff of his stench, reeking of weed and Doritos, you finally convinced him to get it done, and in typical Eddie fashion— it came with a price.

After bargaining for days and nearly pulling your hair out because all he wanted was a single pair of your panties—

“Why? So you can hold them up like that dork in Sixteen Candles to show all your nerd friends?”

“Babe, the ladies I fuck don’t wear panties.”

He finally settled on a six pack of Busch Light, and for you to do his laundry for a week.

“Remember to separate my delicates, sweetheart.”

Fucking pig.

The only thing delicate about Eddie was his ego when you told him his hair was thinning out on top, (it definitely wasn’t, he had more hair than cousin It) but you needed the upper hand, and criticizing his hair was the way to do just that.

His bed frame and the oak dressers he had ordered, finally arrived. Allowing him to put away his never ending collection of band tee’s and holy jeans. Clearing a path for his floor.

“Holy shit, is that the carpet?” You ask, standing in the door frame before your shift at the salon, toothbrush in your hand, minty dollop of toothpaste atop it.

He’s elbow deep in the dresser, foregoing folding anything but instead shoving the clothes haphazardly into the shallow drawers and slamming them shut with his legs, or his hip.

“Wow, Tooty, you’re hilarious,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, “but since you asked, yes, it does, match the drapes.”

A smile spreads across his lips. Another normal conversation turning into a sexual innuendo. He couldn’t be prouder of the way you walked right into that. Since you told him what happened to Eyeball he really has been holding back his usual gross behavior, but sometimes it was just a slip of the tongue for him. Involuntary action.

You turn to leave but he stops you, crossing the room at record speed and placing a ringed hand on your wrist, the surprising warmth from his hand burning your skin.

“Hey, uh, can I get your opinion quick?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think the groupies give a shit what color boxers you wear.”

“Wow, okay— that’s the wrong answer! But I’m talking about this.”

He points to the shelf crammed full of his odd knick knacks. It originally belonged to Nancy, but she had left it behind. Inside of it were a hoard of books. Lord of the Rings, something that looked like manuals for Dungeons & Dragons—of course he’s still playing that— a plethora of Stephen King books, and a full— more than likely sticky— stack of playboys. Go figure.

“What about it?”

“Do you think it looks good here or should I move it under the window?” Eddie asks, hands out wide measuring and comparing in arms length the distance under the window and the width of the book shelf.

You take a step into his room, every square inch of wall was covered in posters, your former bed sheets graffitied with his band, hung on one wall, the opposite held a kitchen knife stabbed through the drywall.

“What are you trying to do, feng shui?”

“Bless you.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “You sneezed, and me, being the pinnacle Christian son that I am, I blessed you, now should I keep this here?”

It took you a minute to comprehend what the hell just happened and why.

“Blessed by Eddie Munson— that’s the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard,” you snort, a smile twisted on your lips as you look at the overgrown man child huff about where to put his shelf, shoving your toothbrush into your mouth, “looks fine there.”

He did start cleaning up after himself, even offering to vacuum the living room in exchange for you making supper most nights. Begging you to make the lasagna again after he ate almost the entire pan the last time. He even decided to get take out on his one night a week to cook. Thank God because you couldn’t handle one more night of burnt, made-in-the-toaster, grilled cheese or using orange juice as a replacement when the milk was gone for cereal.

You learned the hard way that you needed to buy two separate gallons of milk, after watching Eddie drink straight from the jug, a dripping white mustache formed on his upper lip as he licked it suggestively, “Got milk?” He’d ask before roaring with laughter.

The next few weeks with Eddie as your roommate went rather smoothly. With you working at the salon and him working long hours at Boom’s Auto shop, you two came home at almost the same time every night. He would show up covered in grease and reeking of motor oil. His work coveralls, branding a white and red labeled patch with his name on them, had the sleeves cut off, showcasing his muscled arms and the wide array of tattoos prickling up and down them, shoulder to wrist. He wore a sweaty bandana wrapped around his head, rotating between a black or a red one, depending on the day.

You didn’t mind doing his laundry since his pockets were always full of either loose bills or the occasional joint, which you would keep, and smoke later with Robin and Steve, giggling watching the stars as you laid out on blankets in the backyard.

On Saturday nights, he usually played with the band, scoring a gig at the Hideout or working at the bar til closing time, helping Tom bartend a little until Walt got back from vacation. He stumbled in at night knocking over a lamp and almost falling backwards down the basement steps. He’d pass out for a greater half of the next day, waking in the afternoon with a raspy voice and smelling like cheap cologne.

One particular Sunday morning, he stumbled out of his room, wearing black boxer briefs, and a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.

“Mornin’” he grumbled opening the fridge and diving in for his notorious pickles, tilting it to his lips and drinking straight from the jar.

You shake your head, sitting at the table and sorting through the mail. Your hair in a clip and wearing an oversized crew neck sweater, your mauve fingernails flicking through the envelope flaps, jotting down what’s due and when. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Eddie.”

He smacks his lips loudly and faces you, fishing a pickle from the jar with his bare hands, “metal has no time limits, Tooty, we play until the bar shuts down.” He makes his way towards you, wearing one sock and chomping on his pickle.

You notice something on his stomach, a new tattoo? Maybe? Riding low on his waist and almost dipping below his underwear. The closer he gets you can make out the writing, a permanent marker phone number from a groupie written on his lower abs.

You point your pen towards his stomach, “gonna get that thing tattooed on, make it official, that Eddie the freak Munson has at least one adoring fan?”

He looks down, a smile pressing on his lips, “aww no need to be sad sweetheart,” he says lowering himself into a chair beside you, “there’s plenty of me to go around, and besides, I thought good little nuns couldn’t fuck, saving themselves for God.. or are you one of the dirty ones, showing your tits for cash so you can gamble?” He winks and laughs as you shove his shoulder trying to throw him out of the chair.

“You’re so gross!”

“And yet, I’m still here.” the Cheshire Cat smile planted on his lips.

Still. You had to admit, no matter how nasty his jokes were or how annoying he could be— having Eddie around wasn’t that bad.

“Tooty!” Eddie yells through the bathroom door bouncing from one foot to another, banging on the door with an open palm, “I’m going to piss my pants if you don’t hurry up!”

You had only been in the shower for ten minutes. When you walked past his room this morning with sleepy eyes and a deep yawn, metal music blared from his bedroom along with the annoying beep of his alarm clock, but the prince of filth was fast asleep.

“The schedule that you made says I get the bathroom first on Fridays, which is today!”

The schedule you had designed for Eddie and yourself consisted of 7 vertical columns one for each day of the week, and 5 horizontal columns: showering, laundry day, dishes, cooking, garbage. You had more days in the cooking column than Eddie, just like he had more days in the garbage column than you did. It evened out.

“Wrong— you were supposed to get the bathroom at 7, it’s now past 7:30 so it’s my turn,” you correct, putting a generous amount of body wash on your loofah and foaming it up, white suds cleansing your skin, “not my fault you can’t wake up to your alarm.”

“Christ, seriously just open the door! I’m fuckin’ dancing around out here like a little kid!”

“Can’t hear you,” you sing out to him, laughing silently beneath the spray of water.

You hear the feverish jiggle of the brass handle on the door and heavy footsteps as he stomps away. Oh the joys of victory. You bask in the delight of getting a one up on Eddie. Something that rarely happened in the few weeks he has been living with you. Slathering conditioner in your hair and rinsing, you exit the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day.

Opening the bathroom door you expected Eddie to barrel through you to get to the bathroom, you’re taken aback when you hear faint yelling coming from outside.

“… piss in the front yard of my own house— I will! Go back to trimming your hedges with your toddler sized shorts and mind your own goddamn—,”

“Eddie!”

He’s standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn, his navy boxer briefs the only clothing he has on. Double middle fingers raised in the early morning sky aimed towards your neighbor across the street, Mr. Derry, the neighborhood watch dog. He was an older man, no kids, no wife. Retired. And a grade A pain in the ass.

Eddie turns and looks to you, pink blush creeping over his cheeks, “…business.” Eyes wide in innocence as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

You’re still in your towel, hair soaking wet down your back, watching as this crazed lunatic you have as a roommate terrorizes the neighborhood, one flash of his dick at a time.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the front door.

“Gracing the common folk of Cherry Lane with my morning wood, yeah take a picture and frame it you fuckin’ perv!”

Yanking harder you get him inside and slam the door. Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.

You open your mouth to speak but Eddie has already started explaining.

“Listen, I had to piss bad, like really bad. You could have just unlocked the door but no, Ms. Uptight-independent Tooty with your rules and schedules—” he stops and takes a breath. After your conversation a few weeks ago about the downfall of Eyeball and your own family abandoning you, Eddie had been trying to be more reasonable about things, more cautious about the way he worded things. Not trying to twist the knife lodged into your chest that had been driven there years ago.

“So I made up my own rule! If you’re gonna take forever shaving your legs or…other things…” his eyes cast down your body. The white towel snug against your form, you clutch it tighter around you as his eyes stare through the towel, begging to catch a glimpse of your wet, smooth skin. Water droplets taunting him as they fall down the slick of your hair. He shakes his head to clear his gutter mind. “I’m going to take matters into my own hands, and believe me princess, it was a handful.”

That’s about as dialed back as Eddie could be.

“You can’t just piss in the front yard! This neighborhood is not like the trailer park, that asshole you called a perv—“

“He was! He was looking right at my dick!”

“— once called the cops on Nancy because she parked by his curb when we were having her bridal shower.”

“Wa-wait, Nancy fucking Wheeler got the cops called on her?”

“Yeah, Hop wasn’t too happy to find out what it was for, calling Derry a waste of space.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh I’m not surprised— him and I go way back, remember?”

Of course you did, he busted Eddie too many times driving higher than the Empire State Building while bringing you, Dustin, Will and Mike back to the Wheeler’s. It was almost a running joke between him and Hopper. Eddie would slip him a joint while in the back of his patrol vehicle and away he went, no ticket, no charge, nothing.

“Anyway,” you jeer, pointing a finger into his bare chest, the tip of your nail making a half moon indent into the head of the bloody demon inked on his left pec, “he’s a fucking asshole so don’t piss him off, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“Fine,” Eddie groans, running his hands down his face “but he was gawking!”

You roll your eyes and grab your hair dryer from your room. An adjustment you’ve had to do since Eddie moved in, getting ready partly in your room and in the bathroom. After your hair is dried and styled, you opt for a pair of light wash overall shorts, and a thick strapped, high neck tank top underneath. You finish your makeup by applying a coat of Revlon’s Toast of New York on your lips. Sliding on your knock off Doc Marten sandals, you grab your purse and head for the door.

Eddie’s sitting at the kitchen table, chair pulled out as he laces up his black work boots, body bent over his knee as he jerks his hand side to side, lazily working the laces through the hook eyelets.

“Still getting groceries tomorrow?” He asks, shoving his white cotton covered foot into his other boot, repeating the process. “I added some essentials to the grocery list.” He gestures to the pad and paper with a tilt of his chin.

Scanning the list you laugh, “Dunkaroos are not essential.”

“Don’t you dare cross them off!” Eddie fake shouts, a grin stretching across his lips, showing off his straight teeth.

“I’m off tomorrow and don’t have many clients today— I know it’s your night to cook, but I was thinking of making tater tot casserole for supper, I’ll just have to stop and get some ground beef from Bradley’s before I come home.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie lamented, “I have a gig tonight instead of tomorrow at the Hideout,” he says standing, running his hands down his legs to shake down his coveralls. “It’s probably going to be late, so don’t worry about making anything.”

Ripping the grocery list from the pad and stuffing it into your purse, you think back to how long it has been since you’d seen them play. You went along to support Chrissy and since Eddie was Kev’s longtime best friend and basically your chauffeur, you at least owed it to him to go with. A memory of you head banging and holding Chrissy’s hand tight as you both screamed for Corroded Coffin clouded your mind.

Threading your purse straps through your fingers and casting your eyes downward you have to know, “… you guys still play Lady Evil?”

Eddie grins again, “wouldn’t be a Corroded Coffin gig if we didn’t play some Sabbath, Jeff would probably throw a hissy fit.”

Friday evenings were usually busy in the shop. Boom ran a tight ship and paid better than any auto shop in a thirty mile radius. Eddie was lucky to get hired on using his street smarts and the fact that he was the unpaid mechanic of the trailer park for every banged up old sedan that his neighbors had since he was sixteen.

The old radio crackled and fussed as Hank Williams Jr sang about the survival rate of country boys. Boom whistled along with the tune. Running his tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a Mr. Pibb and a ham sandwich in front of him.

“So Eddie,” he says leaning back in his plastic chair, “I heard from the boys that you moved into a house on Cherry Lane. Damn boy, I thought that trailer park ran deep in your blood.”

Eddie throws his empty Mt. Dew can into the trash, missing by a mile. “Ahh Boom, you know I’m the prince of the park. Just stretching my city legs, helping out a friend.”

“Didn’t know you and Eyeball’s sister were close.” Aaron sneered, lighting up a cigarette with a strike of a match against his boot.

Eddie’s light hearted demeanor immediately changed, smile fading and eyebrows pulling together, “what the hell does that mean?”

“Helping out a friend?” Sean spat, his wiry mustache shriveled into a snarl, “what are you Mother Teresa? The only help that bitch needs is a fucking lobotomy.”

“Hey,” Eddie interjects, pointing a greased finger into Sean’s face, “don’t fucking talk about her like that, man.”

Aaron talks around his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table, “It’s true, she’s smokin’ fuckin’ hot but crazier than a shit house rat.”

The pair laugh, choking on smoke and bits of crusty bread.

“Remember what Chad said about her?” Aaron laughed..

“Fuck yeah how did he put that? Don’t marry the girls with the daddy issues, even if they let you put it in their a—”

Eddie slams his fists into Sean’s shirt, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall, “another word, about her— and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose.”

“You threatenin’ me Munson?” Sean chokes out.

Eddies eyes are crazed as he glares in Sean’s, “never a threat, pencil dick, it’s a promise.”

“Fellas,” Boom hollers, shoving his chair back with an eerie scratch, metal legs scraping on broken tile, “I’ll send ya both home for the day with no pay if y’all don’t knock it the fuck off.”

Eddie shoves Sean into the wall hard once more, releasing his grip on his shirt and adjusting his rings. He cracks his knuckles as he stomps back through the bay doors and out to the Buick he had been working on.

Ducking under the hood his breathing is erratic and his fists are shaking.

He never asked what happened with you and Chad but by the sounds of it, it sure as hell didn’t end on good terms.

It was fine if he teased you, but hearing it from anyone else wasn’t gonna fly with him. Not today, not ever. But something about the way you opened up to him, showed him your vulnerable side, it made him almost protective of you, like he needed to shield you from the ugliest parts of the world.

He never would have thought that Eyeball’s little sister, tough little Tooty, the same girl who punched Billy Hargrove in the face after pinching her ass one night, would make him care so much.

“Told ya he’s cool,” Steve slurs over his Bloody Mary, clinking the ice in the glass as he tips it back into his mouth, “he’s like a wild animal, but once you get to know him— he’s just a tattooed teddy bear.”

You, Robin and Steve were out for dinner and drinks at Louie’s, the newer sports bar in Hawkins, sitting under an emerald and white striped umbrella in the hot humid summer air. A monthly ritual you started ages ago when you all worked at Family Video. Only back then you went to Benny’s to get burgers and concrete thick milkshakes, racing to see who could finish first which ultimately ended in Robin getting a stomach ache, every time.

“I could have killed him the first few days,” you say, sipping your Malibu and Diet Coke through two neon straws, “honestly, still debating it.”

Robin steals the pickle spear and celery stick from Steve’s drink, munching away and talking with a mouthful, Steve simply rolls his eyes and reaches for another mozzarella stick, “wait, I thought you guys were getting along better now.”

“They are!” Steve interjects, pointing the mozzarella stick around like he was directing an orchestra, “I asked him myself when I brought my car to Boom’s yesterday for an oil change.”

The thought of your friends asking your roommate, who just so happens to also be their friend, how things were going between you both, made your stomach lurch.

“Well,” Robin began, twirling her pina colada and biting into the yellow flesh of the pineapple , “I’m just glad you aren’t by yourself anymore. It freaked me out knowing you were there alone.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Before Eddie had moved in, Steve gave you his prized nail bat to keep by your bed. So far you haven’t had to use it. And with Eddie in the house, it was stored in your closet.

“Alright, I’ll admit,” you say, taking a long drink, feeling the warmth of the coconut flavored alcohol mix with the Diet Coke bubbles, a frenzy on your tongue, “he’s come a long way,” you admit, dunking a fry into the mayo ketchup concoction, “finally house broke.”

It was the truth, you really didn’t mind him being around.

“Shh, gotta be quiet girls, daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, but seriously, you need to shut up.”

The girls laugh, drunk off bottom shelf liquor and Jell-O shots from the Hideout. Three pairs of tangled legs stumble through the front door as Eddie hurriedly works his keys into the lock.

The two of them giggle and hush one another, planting kisses on either side of his neck and stepping out of their shoes. His leather jacket hits the floor, the shirt he was wearing was ripped to shreds from the collar down. Carol’s fingers feverishly tore at his clothing before the three of them even made it to the van.

Foregoing the zipper on the tight leather mini dress she’s wearing, Eddie shoves it down her hips, giving her ass a firm squeeze, toying with the fishnet tights, “these stay on,” he demands, slapping her ass and unzipping his jeans, a parade of cheap lingerie, and leather studded clothing start from the front door and end in Eddie’s bedroom.

Your car wasn’t home which was odd but maybe it was parked in the garage. He wasn't sure where you were but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you up. You had never discussed any boundaries about him bringing someone home, but what kind of rockstar would he be if he turned down hot twins?

They had approached him after the show, twisting their evil tongues into his mouth and groping him as soon as he got backstage.

Jeff was in the back room with his long time girlfriend Ash, they were holding each other tight as he kissed her neck and she squealed into his ear.

The girl who showed up to every gig, Marissa, wearing her signature “here for the drummer” shirt, was currently bent over the bathroom sink, Gareth buried deep inside her.

Even Big D was getting some action, the waitress from Benny’s, Emily, was currently bobbing along on his dick.

All of them were getting lucky, a win for Corroded Coffin. The girls were screaming for them, bras and panties tossed on stage, Gareth sporting multiple pairs around his neck. The old bar flies drunk off beer on tap were singing along to the requested songs.

Cece’s pink floral dress is brought over her head as Eddie sucks her nipple into his mouth, teasing and biting as Carol kneels at his feet and works her palm into his boxers, gasping at the hardened length in her grip.

A monster lies beneath the cotton. Almost as thick as her forearm, her dainty fingers unable to reach fully around his girth. She pumps him slow, releasing his throbbing cock.

His fingers twist into their hair as he shoves Cece down to her knees, joining Carol in the worship of Eddie Munson’s dick. Their greedy mouths take him in, one popping his balls into her mouth the other choking on his fat cock.

Eddie wasn’t gentle when he fucked groupies. He took what he wanted and didn’t leave any room for complaints or questions. Shut off from the gentle loving side sex can bring and only seeing red, it was like he was a mad man. A different person entirely. Truly the horns of satan poked through his forehead and his eyes clouded over revealing a black veil of sin.

Demon eyed.

He was pissed from what happened earlier at work. Fucking insane with rage at Sean and Aaron talking shit about you.

Not you, not Tooty.

His frustration builds as the sound of lungs gasping for air fills his ears.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Jesus Christ— don’t you wanna be good for daddy? Open that fuckin’ throat up and take what I give to you.”

He grabs Cece’s hair and thrusts himself in her mouth, ignoring her tears as she gags and swallows him whole. “Are you crying? Poor fucking baby, what a shame, on the bed now.” He grabs her up by the throat and tosses her onto the bed.

He’d kill Chad if he ever saw him again. Still had no idea what he did or why you two broke up but hearing his mantra spill from those asshat’s mouths today was enough to make his skin crawl.

The vulgar shit they were saying. The way they non chalantly said it like they were reciting their McDonald’s order. Fuck that bothered him.

Cock swinging, Eddie pinches Carol’s nipples until she’s standing, he flips her upside down, fucking into her open mouth as he bites her fishnet tights open and spits on her pussy. Tossing her on the bed like discarded trash he slaps both of their asses.

He tries to blur you away from his mind, separate you from his brain for a while to release this pent up anger. But all he can see are the small tears falling from your eyes when you tell him the truth about your family.

The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.

Shaking his head he bounds to his bed, trying like hell to focus on his task at hand.

“Are my little whores ready? Think you can handle this without tearing up?”

When Steve drops you off you’ve already puked in his car, twice. When he announced that drinks were on him tonight, you may have been double fisting Jack and Cokes with Robin, and taking vodka shots, racing to see who could finish first.

Robin passed out in the back of his car, snuggled up with the cold leather on her cheek.

“Steeb, I’m fine, seriously! Look how good I’m walking.”

“That’s because I’m carrying you.” Steve huffs as he opens the front door.

You’re slurring your words and talking in a volume that could raise the dead, “You’re such a good friend Stephen, why? Why why why are you single?” You hiccup, the remnants of your vomit lingering on your breath, “You need a wife!”

“Tooty, we can talk about my failed love life another day,” Steve grunts, carrying you into the house, stepping over boots and skimpy clothing, “for now let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and maybe puke in the toilet this time!”

“I just wanna go to bed. I’m tired,” you whine, “Stoven bring me to my room, let me go to sleep!”

Ignoring you, Steve brings you to the bathroom and plops you down on the floor, opening the toilet lids just in time for you to blow chunks all over.

“Ooh that one looks like a mozzarella stick.”

“Jesus, I’m never letting you two idiots drink again! I’m always your goddamn babysitter, it’s so annoying.” Steve laughs, riddling your hair. Ever since you stepped foot into Family Video at fifteen, looking for a job, the three of you were inseparable. “You think you’re gonna be okay? I gotta get that other shit head home before she pukes in the backseat, I already have to clean the front.”

“Oh no! I didn’t know you threw up!”

Steve rolls his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.

“See you tomorrow, I’ll call you okay?” His face is pulled into concern, eyebrows raised and pinched together

You salute him and wave, laughing at his mop of hair flopping around as he turns to leave. Struggling for at least ten minutes to get your denim overall shorts unbuckled, cursing and giggling at your own drunken stupor. You finally manage to get them un done shucking them off your legs, leaving your upper body covered by your tank top, the black panties you were wearing still on. Sliding your arms around your back you manage to unhook your bra and thread it through your shirt, tossing it into the shower beside you. Exhausted, you rest your head on the toilet bowl— falling into a dizzy sleep.

“Cece, come here!” Carol whispers loudly. She’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth agape at the sight of the slumped over figure hugging the toilet bowl.

“Holy shit!” She says, emerging from Eddie’s bedroom. “Is that? No fucking way.”

“I didn’t know he was screwing her too!” Carol breathes jealousy spewing from her lips.

“You really think he’d want to fuck that? Look at her! She’s a walking basket case. I heard that her family moved away because she wigged out and tried to kill her own mom.”

“Actually, the rumor is that I killed them all,” you add, raising your sleepy drunk face from the toilet, seeing double and trying not to puke on the spot, you try to stand, using the toilet to support your weight as you push off from it, wobbling horrifically.

“Get the fuck out,” you say, vision dancing as you try to point to the front door, holding onto the sink to stabilize yourself wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, “now.”

“Yeah?” Cece spits, folding her arms across her chest, “you gonna make us? Last I checked we were guests—“

“Not anymore,” Eddie hissed, adjusting the waist of his sweatpants as he looks into the bathroom at your disheveled appearance. Your makeup is smeared from throwing up, you’re half naked and barefoot, clutching onto the sink. Your overalls are covered in puke, and in a heap of vomit on the floor, a purple bra hangs over the edge of the tub. He wedges himself into the bathroom between you and the two girls, covering you with his tall frame from their view. His nostrils are flared and his chest is puffed out, “you heard her, get the fuck out.”

“What the fuck Eddie?!” Carol gripes, looking into his mad eyes.

He glares back, bored with her, “Did you really think you were gonna stay the night?” He prods, “Please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. Get your shit and go.”

“We live across town!” Cece squeaks, face pulled into shock and humiliation.

“Don’t care.”

Carol crosses her arms and glares into his eyes, “It’s late!”

“And?” He asks glaring back, and pushing through them, “Here let me help.”

Eddie takes their purses and shoes, tossing them out the front door into the yard. Pointing to the open door and fuming, he spits, “Out.”

The girls leave screeching ‘fuck you’s’ as they walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.

He turns back to the bathroom, hearing you vomit again, one small glance and he can tell you hit the sink at least, puke splattering all over— the same reaction if you held a spoon under running water.

He turns around and comes back with the cleaner and a roll of paper towels, gagging with each wipe of the sink as he cleans it up.

Your crumbled body is slumped over the toilet again.

“Gonna live? Or should I call the coroner.” He says leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a look of worry on his face.

“ ‘s Robin’s fault,” you mumble, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, “woulda been fine if it wasn’t for the sh—,” you gag thinking of the vodka, “—shots, I’m usually not like this.”

Eddie sits on the side of the tub. You’re wasted and half dressed. He was a lot of things but taking advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t him. He finds your robe hanging in its designated spot, and drapes it across your bare shoulders.

“Sit up a bit,” he instructs. With great effort you sit up, almost falling backwards but Eddie catches you, careful of his hand placements not wanting to graze you in your inebriated state. He helps you sit and you put your arms through the holes of the robe. He reaches gently around your middle to tie it. Putting delicate pressure on your back as he leans you forward towards the toilet. You hum with satisfaction as your face feels the cool plastic of the toilet seat. Fighting the urge to rub your back.

“I’m dying, you can have the house when I’m gone, scatter my ashes in the rose bushes out back.” You say with a whine. Groaning as your stomach churns again, puking up more and more of the mixed alcohol you drank earlier in the night.

“Need some water?” Eddie guesses.

You nod your head, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds you set it back down.

He leaves and comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water, swirly straw included. Tapping your shoulder he hands you the Disney cup, taking a long pull from the straw, you set the cup down on the linoleum floor.

“Thanks.”

“Agh, you’ll be alright. The porcelain Gods and I are great friends— well we used to be back in high school. I haven’t prayed to them in a while,” he says with a chuckle. Sliding down against the wall behind you, sitting on the cold floor.

“Don’t forget the time you and Kev ate those shrooms and puked all night in the basement of our house.” You mutter, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and flushing the toilet.

That was a night Eddie would never forget, he was only sixteen, and he somehow scored some homemade brownies and shrooms from one of the seniors. Being young and dumb, him and Eyeball each ate three brownies and an entire bag of shrooms. The high was insane, but the aftermath was death. He hasn’t touched shrooms since.

“Shit,” Eddie exclaims, “how old were you? Ten?”

“ ‘leven,” you say, holding your elbows on the toilet seat and your head in your palms, “old enough to know you and Kev didn’t magically get the flu at the same time.”

“Man we were dumb,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his chin with his hand.

“Were?” you say slyly.

“Easy, I’m not the one who can’t hold their liquor, Princess.”

“Oh Jesus please no more mention of it or I will barf—again.”

He stands to leave, laughing and stretching his arms out over his head as a small yawn escapes him. Exhausted from the day's events: work, concert, threesome— ain’t no way he’d be up before noon tomorrow— you either.

“Think I’m gonna go to bed, you going to be okay?”

Sitting up and looking at Eddie for the first time tonight, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re drunk, but it’s almost as if it’s the very first time you’ve seen him. His amber colored eyes are surrounded by a forest of black eyelashes, his mop of curly hair hanging in them slightly, smooth pink lips, surprisingly full, a sharp jaw with a days worth of stubble, his veiny neck dances as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His shoulders are thick snaking down to muscled forearms, veins protruding from them, his hands are easily double the size of yours, thick fingers adorned with the same chunky stupid rings he’s worn forever. His broad chest stretches across his ribs, nipples pierced since the 80’s. He stands with confidence. His slender waist with the tiniest patch of hair ducking into the gray waistband of his hanes boxer briefs. And the prettiest alabaster skin peeking out from his collection of black tattoos.

Mouth suddenly dry, you stutter, “I—I’m done throwing up, gonna go to my bed.”

You stand on Bambi’s legs, hitting the wall hard with your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughs and scoops you up making sure he’s holding under your bent knees and around your upper arms. He carries you to your bed, his skin burning hot against your cheek. He lays you down, throwing the blankets over your head for good measure, trying like hell to ignore the flutter in his stomach as you huff and pout pulling your eyebrows inward and frowning as you place your blankets to your liking.

“Get some sleep Tooty.” Eddie says all too softly. Pushing your cute sleepy face from his mind, rocking back on his heels as he starts to leave your room.

“Eddie?” You call after him, your small voice ripping through him like a knife. “Thank you, seriously. For everything.”

Shaking his head back and forth, his wild hair flows like a curtain around him in the dark as he leaves your room, “you owe me,” he says with a small grin, shutting the door behind him.

////

SEE YOU IN VOLUME: V

[volume: 5]

putting random symbols in hopes that read more will eat this instead of the last paragraph 😩

#eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 7 months ago

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A long night

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, April 2024 edition

Prompt: fool, 454 words

Rated: E

CW: rough sex, angry sex, some breeding kink sprinkled in for funsies

Tags: medieval AU; king!Steve; jester!Eddie; top Steve; bottom Eddie

Notes: Might or might not be set in the same universe as Sol Invictus - who knows

“Why so sulky, my liege? Is the princess not to your liking?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just grabs Eddie’s hips, nails digging into skin. The motion upsets their balance, legs tangling in the bunched-up garments around their ankles, and Eddie clings to the pillar in front of him lest they both topple.

“Pity,” he mutters. “She seems nice. Lovely singing voice.”

Steve growls and bites down on his shoulder, hips speeding up. For a while, the only sounds are the obscene slap-slap-slap of their bodies and the merry jingle of Eddie’s fool's cap.

There's another jab on Eddie’s tongue, but he bites it back. He knows better than to provoke Steve when he's like this.

Eddie takes pride in his ability to read even the smallest expressions on his king's face, the tiniest twitch of those lips, the slightest arch of those brows.

Not that he needs to. Steve isn't exactly subtle in his distaste. The scowl has been etched into his features since his advisors suggested the engagement. It magnified at the arrival of the princess and her entourage, only to crest during the welcome feast.

Eddie sang and danced and joked until his throat burned and his legs hurt, but to no avail. By the time he was dismissed so that the marriage contract could be negotiated, Steve looked ready to throttle someone.

It came as no surprise really, when the first thing he did upon entering his chambers was crowd Eddie against the pillar and shove his fingers down his pants. Eddie would've preferred it if they had made it to the bed, honestly - or if Steve would've let him take off the damn cap before claiming him.

“Shut up,” Steve snarls against the shell of his ear. “She sounds like a pig trying to sing and you know it.”

Eddie can't help it, he laughs.

“Shame on you. That's no way to talk about the mother of your future heir.”

“Oh?” Steve reaches down to take Eddie’s neglected cock in hand, and the laugh teeters off into a wanton moan. His other hand splays over Eddie’s belly, gentle where the rhythm of his hips is harsh and punishing. “Maybe I'll put one inside you instead. Maybe, if I fuck you long and hard and deep enough, it'll catch eventually, how about that? Would you like that?”

Eddie whimpers, trying to buck against the hand pumping his cock. Steve squeezes the base and he groans.

“I said would you like that, Eddie?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, my king, please.”

“Good,” Steve says, and then, suddenly he's gone. Eddie yelps and the bells jingle as he is roughly pushed forwards. “On the bed, on all fours. It's gonna be a long night."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie microfic #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #hype's microfics

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago

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Careless Words

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Angst. Toxic/abusive relationship dynamics. Mentions of death. Allusions to smut. Word count: ~2.8k

Summary: She has always given her best to Aemond, but they both know he can't say the same. Based on this request.

Author's note: I wanted to explore the darker side of Aemond's personality and how this might manifest itself in a relationship where neither party is particularly healthy in terms of their mindset. This was a cathartic piece for me to write. Lately I've been working through some resurfaced feelings linked to a past relationship that was based entirely around trauma bonding. It may be a triggering read for some, so please approach with caution (and try to remember the story itself is a work of fiction). No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Community labels are for cops. Please block me instead of labelling this, if you find yourself tempted.

Family, Duty, Honor; that is the motto of House Tully, a direct opposition of House Targaryen’s Fire and Blood. If she wasn’t so duty bound to Prince Aemond then she’d find the strength to walk away. If he was a better man he’d let her go. Unfortunately for her, nothing in a dragon’s clutches escapes without getting burned.

She is eight years old when she is sent from Riverrun to King’s Landing. She is to be a ward of House Targaryen, an idea that excites and frightens her in equal measure; she has never been away from her family before and the thought of living in a strange city with people she has never met fills her with uncertainty, yet she is eager for the adventures it will bring.

Her fears are assuaged the moment she arrives in the capital. The sprawling expanse of the city beckons her to explore its winding cobbled streets, the Red Keep is a maze of undiscovered secrets. Naturally curious, she gravitates towards Queen Alicent’s second son, Aemond. He is a quiet, sullen boy, not much older than her, and spends most of his time alone, reading. It is more than apparent to her that he does not get along with his older brother and nephews, and his sister is too lost in her own world to be of any comfort to him.

Aemond clings to her offer of friendship, and the two quickly become inseparable. She basks in the attention he lavishes upon her; sharing his books, learning High Valyrian under his tutelage, dutifully spectating for each of his training sessions in the yard, and accompanying him on his daily visits to the dragonpit - he has yet to claim a dragon, which serves to deepen his fascination of the creatures and drives him to near obsession with desire to have his own.

Aemond becomes the center of her world, a position which he appears to thrive on. The first time he threatens to take that away from her is on a day that they visit the dragonpit.

Aegon has lured him there on the pretense that the dragon keepers have discovered an unclaimed mount for him. However, he is humiliated when a pig is led out from the shadows, and he flees, distraught, back to his mother.

He lashes out at her that day, for the first time, when she attempts to comfort him.

“You will have a dragon one day,” She tries to tell him. “Ignore their silly jokes, it doesn’t matter.”

He looks at her with fury in his eyes and she shrinks fearfully away from him. His tone is vile, hateful. “It doesn’t matter to you, because you don’t understand how important dragons are to Targaryens. You are a nobody!”

She weeps bitterly when he storms away from her, it feels like she has lost her only friend in the world. She believes she has trivialised Aemond’s suffering and is ashamed of herself.

When he approaches her the next day, with lemon cakes, a book and a soft “I didn’t mean it”, she is so overjoyed to have Aemond’s attention once more that it doesn’t even occur to her that he hasn’t uttered the word “sorry”, she has him back and that is all that matters. And for a few days afterwards, he treats her with such reverence that she feels foolish for having been upset in the first place.

Aemond is ten when he loses his eye, and he puts on a brave face, though she is certain it is for the benefit of not further upsetting his mother and appearing weak in front of his nephews.

She is proven right the moment they are alone and he turns on her. She wants to support him, to show him she is unafraid of him despite the stitches that now adorn the bloodied ruin where his left eye used to be, but he will not allow that.

“Where were you?!” He shouts at her. “If you’d have been there for me, I’d still have my eye!”

She wants to argue that she could not possibly have known he was going to claim Vhagar, how could she have been there for him when everyone was supposed to be in bed? But the guilt his words inspire eclipse all rationality in her innocent, young mind. She ought to have anticipated him going after a riderless dragon, and been there to help defend him against the attack from his nephews and cousins.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I’m so sorry.” She cries.

“Sorry will not bring back what I have lost,” He spits angrily. “No matter. I have my dragon now, I do not need you.”

He is lost to her once more, and heartache colours her world where Aemond’s presence used to.

“I didn’t mean it,” He tells her sheepishly, a few days later. “When I am healed, I will take you for a ride on dragonback.”

She does not need an apology, Aemond’s attention and willingness to share something so personal with her are more than enough. For a week after that he makes her feel as though she is the very stars in the night sky, and she basks in his good graces.

On Aemond’s thirteenth name day, she is excited to give him his gift. For weeks she has toiled in secret on a patch for him to cover the scarred side of his face. It is made of delicate black leather and has an intricate green dragon stitched carefully into the fabric.

She searches for Aemond most of the day and cannot find him. When he does eventually make an appearance he is distant and distracted, not even uttering thanks when she presents him with the patch she has made for him.

“Aegon took me to a pleasure house.” He says morosely, when she asks what’s wrong.

“Oh,” She has trouble hiding the disgust on her face, as she feels sour jealousy spread its way through her. “Why?”

He scowls upon seeing her look of judgment. “Because I grew tired of looking at your ugly face!” He snaps, before storming off.

Her self worth shatters with those words, scattered away on the winds of Aemond’s temper, and yet again she is left to wait for his careless words to become kind, while she grieves his temporary absence.

I did not mean it. And so she forgives him, piecing herself back together with every praise and doting look he offers her. She cares not that he never wears her gift or thanks her for it, it does not matter that he doesn’t say he’s sorry, because when Aemond is kind to her she feels as though she has ascended to the very heavens above.

It is an addictive cycle, and as the years press on, she finds herself craving Aemond’s tempestuous nature in moments of calm, for the love he showers her with afterwards is her only means of reassuring herself that he truly cares for her.

Aemond grows bolder in his mistreatment of her, confident that she is too attached to him to be disloyal. She is one of the few things in his life that he is able to assert full control over and he wields it without a second thought.

Shortly after her sixteenth name day, Aegon attempts to force himself on her. She fights him off and seeks comfort in the only person she can trust; Aemond. Where she expects to find sympathy, however, she is met with scorn and rage-filled jealousy.

“If you did not behave like a whore then Aegon would not do such things. Do you enjoy the attention?”

She shuts herself away in her chambers, the ache in her chest unbearable as her tears soak her pillow.

While Aemond would usually leave it a day or two before seeking her out again, he comes back to her that same evening, telling her he did not mean it as he holds her in his arms. He takes her maidenhead that night, the sharp stinging between her legs, as he pushes forcefully inside of her, soothed by his whisper of “aōhon iksan se ñuhon iksā”. I am yours and you are mine.

As their relationship blossoms into something more romantic, their rifts become more frequent. Aemond always seems to know precisely the combination of words it will take to cut her deepest, yet it is a state she has grown to feel safe in. The blood of the dragon pumps hotly in his veins and as frequently as he inflicts this side of himself upon her, it is always followed by a softness that allows her to believe that he loves her, even if they are words he never says aloud.

When Aemond’s nephews return to King’s Landing his moods become trickier for her to predict. It seems impossible for her not to anger him, and his words are poison to her fragile heart. Yet it always devolves into him assuring her he did not mean it as he fucks her into the mattress, healing every spiteful barb with impassioned touches.

Shortly after King Viserys dies, Aegon is crowned, and everything changes for the worse. His succession is challenged by Viserys’ eldest child, Rhaenyra, and steps must be put into place to secure Aegon’s reign. Aemond is a useful pawn in that process, and his grandsire, Otto, wastes no time in arranging a visit for him to Storm’s End in order to choose which of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters he wishes to marry.

Aemond is so matter of fact as he explains this to her, but she feels as though she reacts enough for both of them, struggling to breath as a free falling sensation in the pit of her stomach sends waves of nausea rippling through her.

She knows she is fighting a losing battle before she even opens her mouth to speak, yet she cannot help herself. She is a moth and Aemond is her flame, ever bright and eternal, the very center around which her entire world revolves. Nothing has ever seemed so final though, what pieces will there be to pick up and place back together once he is someone else’s husband?

Standing before him, she juts out her chin defiantly, willing herself not to cry in spite of the lump in her throat and the insistent stinging around the rims of her eyes. “You’re really going to go through with this?”

He sets his jaw, sighing, a visible dismissal of her feelings that makes her ache and wish she had the courage to simply walk away from him. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“What will become of me, of us?” She asks, her voice raising an octave, threatening to crack.

“That is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. My brother’s succession takes precedence over everything. Marrying one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters helps strengthen his claim to the throne. Listening to your heedless fretting does not.”

She feels heat rise to her cheeks, swallowing back her anguish, attempting to sound fiercer than she feels. “Perhaps I shall decide to marry too then.”

Aemond’s scoff is so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. “Who would marry you? Your virtue is mine, always has been. You’re fortunate I still desire you.”

His tone of voice is so practical, only the slightest hint of irritation giving it an edge. He may as well be addressing a chambermaid who has not made his bed to his liking. She longs to grab him, shake him, beg him to give her any sort of indication that this is hurting him as much as it’s hurting her, because to think that he’d let her go so easily, after all these years, is more than she can stand.

Instead she says nothing, simply watches as he turns to leave, counting down the moments until he returns to her, his words sweet once more and eager to heal the rift between them, just like he always does. She craves the storm and the calm in equal measure, but they are always on Aemond’s terms, never hers.

Three nights later she awakens to him standing at the foot of her bed, dripping wet, eye filled with fear. She takes him into the sheets, fingers carding through his damp hair as he ruts his misery inside of her.

“It was an accident,” He whispers to her tearfully afterwards. “I only meant to scare Lucerys.”

She soothes him to sleep, knowing she ought to feel repulsed by what Aemond has done, but is overwhelmed by the relief of him being just hers once more.

Confusion addles her thoughts the next day when she overhears Aemond tell Otto that he had meant to kill his nephew.

When she asks him about it in private he grips the tops of her arms with such force that she yelps from the pain of it, his face almost murderous with rage as he stares at her. “If you ever utter those words again, I will have your tongue cut out.”

Aemond’s temper has always been fierce, a trait of his that she is forever wary of, however, until now she has never felt afraid of him. At this very moment, Aemond frightens her. He has the capacity to cause her harm, and does not seem to care if he does.

Later he presses featherlight kisses to each of the vivid purple bruises that mark her upper arms. Though he appears remorseful, he does not offer an apology or even an utterance of “I did not mean it.”

“You must not anger me like that again,” He tells her instead.

She simply nods, dread boring a void into the pit of her stomach.

As the war escalates, resulting in the death of Aegon and Helaena’s son, Jaehaerys, and the grievous injury of Aegon, Aemond takes up the mantle of Prince Regent. While Aemond bears the burden of the additional responsibility, she bears the onslaught of his frustrations, becoming a vessel into which he pours his every grievance. The adoration he showers her with after each display of cruelty becomes infrequent to the point that she feels as though she is a hound begging for scraps. Eventually she learns to accept his ire, reasoning he would simply cast her aside and ignore her if he did not care for her.

She is delighted when Aemond insists upon bringing her along to his march upon Harrenhal. She allows herself to believe that his desire to have her at his side is because he is committed to her, that perhaps this means he intends to marry her once the war is over. A voice in the back of her mind reasons it is most likely because he enjoys the control he asserts over her, but she does her best to ignore it.

Jealousy swirls sharply in her gut when she sees the only person that Aemond has spared in his seizing of the castle - a witch named Alys Rivers, a raven haired beauty who he informs her will be of great use to him in helping him to defeat his Uncle Daemon. She swallows down her doubts, attempting to reassure herself that she has nothing to worry about, Aemond has never strayed from her before, why would he now?

She curses herself for ignoring her suspicions when she catches him between the witch’s thighs. She expects herself to grieve, to scream, to cry, to shatter to pieces at his infidelity, but instead a sense of clarity washes over her. For the first time in a decade she wishes to leave Aemond.

No longer does she crave his approval, or long to make amends, a veil has been lifted and finally she sees him for the selfish, spoiled and callous hearted man he truly is. He will never love her, not as she deserves, and she is making a fool of herself to stay by his side while he is openly disrespectful of her and her feelings.

His eye darkens with familiar ill intent when she informs him of her plan to return home.

“Do not be so foolish,” He says condescendingly. “You are behaving irrationally over a minor indiscretion.”

She shakes her head. “I believe this is the first time since I’ve known you that I’ve behaved with any sense at all. I am leaving.”

“Ñuhon iksā,” He tells her. His tone carries none of the soft, loving intent it usually does when he utters this statement, now it is dark and threatening. You are mine.

“Dōre iksan,” She replies simply. I am not.

“You cannot exist without me,” He says with a scowl.

“Watch me,” She counters.

It is not until a few days later, once she has returned home to her family, that the full weight of Aemond’s words begin to sink in. As the wings of Vhagar darken the skies above the Riverlands, she realises that he does not mean he thinks she can’t exist without him, it is that he will not allow her to.

She watches in tense horror as the fiery blaze engulfs her homeland, acrid smoke drawing ever nearer as Aemond’s dragon immolates houses, farmland and forests alike. If he were a better man he’d simply have let her go. Unfortunately for her, nothing in a dragon’s clutches escapes without getting burned.

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darknight3904 · 3 months ago

Text

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Guess who's back? Me, and the main plot line. No more fluff chapters, bitches.

Rhaella is 18, Aemond 17

132 AC

The announcement of Lord Corlys' accident was sudden. It was even more sudden that Vaemond, his brother, was coming to Kings Landing to challenge the succession. To her own disappointment, Lucerys' legitimacy would once again be called into question.

Rhaella's trip to Highgarden was but three days away. Most of her things had been packed and her room was rather bare. She hadn't spoken to Aemond much recently. He had avoided her as if that would stop Rhaella's impending doom. It was as if through avoidance they could remain in the youth they were desperately clinging to.

"Might you know when Princess Rhaenrya's family will arrive? I wish to go for a short flight but I want to be able to greet my cousins." She asked her handmaiden.

"I have heard word that their ship was spotted in the Blackwater, My Lady." She responded as she finished lacing the blue dress that adorned Rhaella's body.

"My flight will have to wait then." She sighed, they'd be here soon, "Might you fetch Prince Aemond for me? We have not spoken recently."

"Yes, My Lady."

Aemond was in perfect form today. He motions were fluid and Cole was having a hard time holding him back. The past fortnight of practice was paying off. He felt bad some nights, knowing he had left Rhaella waiting in the library for him. But, he could not be around her now, knowing she was shipping off for Highgarden of all places. That Lord Tyrell's disgusting pig of a son would marry her. His jealousy would well up in him whenever he saw her. He wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling was normal. The possessiveness? He'd never felt this before, not even over Vhagar.

"Something on your mind, My Prince?" Cole asked as his sword met Aemond's again.

"No." Aemond lied

"I can offer insight if you speak to me," Cole says, pushing against Aemomd.

"Why? So you can tell my mother?" Aemond seethes, thinking of how Cole spilled everything he heard and saw to Alicent Hightower.

"Prince Aemond!" The shrill voice of a handmaiden catches his ears

"What?"

Aemond came to her reeking of sweat and the training yard.

"You interrupted my morning session." He said as he entered without knocking

"You have been avoiding me," Rhaella says, ignoring the way he drops sweat-soaked gloves onto her table.

"You've been avoiding me." Aemond pointed at her

Where did he get the audacity to act like this? So brazen.

"You have spent the last fortnight training and flying like you do not know of our prearranged time in the library together," Rhaella said

"Maybe I don't want to spend my days reading." Aemond dismissed

Liar.

"You lie, Aemond." Rhaella sighed, "I expect to see you in the library after tonight's supper. I have found an interesting book on Old Valyria, you will enjoy it."

"I just said I do not wish to be in the library with you. It is-"

Aemond is interrupted by the doors to Rhaella's chamber being pushed open.

"Princess Rhaenrya, Prince Daemon, and their family have arrived. The queen wants both of you in the throne room for the hearing." A nameless errand boy says before dashing back out.

"The library." Rhaella says, standing to brush past Aemond, "Tonight."

Rhaella can hear him grumble as she passes.

Aemond arrives in the throne room nearly fifteen minutes after Rhaella does. She takes in his appearance and presumes he must've run off to fix his hair and cover the scent of sweat with something.

Otto Hightower's voice fills the room as Rhaella's eyes fall on Jacaerys and Lucerys who have grown up since she has last seen them. Dark messy hair sits atop their hair and Jacaery's dark eyes follow her own as she takes him in. He offers a small smile and a nod of his head. Rhaella returns it and can't help but notice how handsome he has become. While he did not bear Targaryen coloring, his facial features certainly held the sharpness of a Targaryen prince.

Vaemond Velaryon has stepped into the center of the room now. He speaks of being Lord Corlys' closest blood. Rhaella can feel the eyes of the room turn to Lucerys as Rhaenrya speaks, affirming her son's position as heir. On her right, Aemond shifts his weight from one foot to the other, letting out a sigh like he was bored.

"Cunt."

Aemond's whispered voice falls on her ears. She isn't sure who he's speaking of now. Perhaps Vaemond or Lucerys? Or maybe Rhaenrya who is getting ready to make her counter argument. Or perhaps the insult is directed at Daemon who, much to Rhaella's dismay hasn't stopped smirking from his spot next to Rhaenrya.

"My Lord Hand, " Rhaenrya begins, "It was but twenty years ago that my father stood in this hall and named me-"

The sound of heavy doors being opened set a lull over the proceedings.

Kingsguard enters the room followed by a sight Rhaella hasn't seen in years, the King, walking.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen. First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Roynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

King Viserys slowly makes his way to the Iron Throne. When he finally reaches it and dismisses Otto Hightower, he is exhausted. Rhaella can hear his heavy breathing echoing about the throne room.

The loud clatter of metal hitting stone has Rhaella turning around to see what has happened. The golden crown that King Jaeherys had once worn has fallen to the floor. She half expects the queen or Rhaenrya to pick it up but her father beats them all to it. Rhaella watches as the man who she had deemed selfish and a cold-hearted fool, helps his brother up the steps to the throne. Daemon places the crown on Viserys' head before returning to his spot. The tension in the room is heavy on her chest as everyone awaits Visery's word.

"I must admit my confusion." Viserys says "Why are petitions being heard over a settled succession?"

Rhaella looks over at Vaemond Velaryon who has anger swimming in his eyes.

"I believe the only person who could offer better insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaella watches as she comes forward to speak. She hasn't seen her since she threw her out of her room for knowing about what happened to Lady Rhea.

"I have always supported Lord Corlys' wish that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support." Rhaenys says

Rhaella has to contain the glee that is on her face at Lucerys' secured position.

"Princess Rhaenrya has just informed me of her decision to marry Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys to their cousins Baela and Rhaena." Rhaenys says, " A proposal to which I agreed."

Rhaella looks at her half sisters who are no longer little girls who have tangles in their hair and stuffed dolls tucked under their arms. They have grown up, Long silver hair much like her own tumble down their backs and their pretty faces are staring back at her.

"The matter is settled. Again." Viserys says "I reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark."

"You break law and centuries of tradition to name your daughter as heir." Vaemond suddenly speaks "Yet you presume to tell me who gets to inherit the name Velaryon? No...I will not allow it."

"Allow it?' Viserys says "Do not forget yourself Vaemond."

"That is no true Velaryon!" Vaemond suddenly shouts, whirling around to point at Lucerys.

Rhaella's eyes jump to Rhaenrya and her family.

"He is no nephew of mine." Vaemond declares

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson. You are no more the second son of Driftmark." Viserys affirms

"You may run your house as you see fit." Vaemond says, turning back to the King," But you will not decide the future of mine. I will not see it ended on the account of this..."

Vaemond has turn to face Lucerys again, a pause in his sentence, like he can't say what he wants to.

"Say it."

Daemon's whisper reaches Rhaella's ears and she looks at her father who is smirking at Vaemond.

"Her children are...Bastards!"

The volume of Vaemond's voice sends echos around the throne room. Rhaella jumps at his tone. not expecting it at all.

"And she...is...a whore."

Rhaella gasps along with the rest of the court. She sees even Queen Alicent shake her head in disapproval.

"I...will have your tongue for that." Viserys suddenly says, pulling the dagger he keeps at his side out.

It happens in just barely a second. Daemon is on the move and makes a clean cut to Vaemond's head with Dark Sister. Rhaella jumps toward Aemond who pulls her close to him as Vaemond's body hits the ground.

"He can keep his tongue." Daemon says looking down at a now very dead Vaemond Velaryon.

"Disarm him!" Otto Hightower yells

"No need," Daemon says, wiping the blood from his sword and returning to Rhaenrya.

Aemond's arms are still holding Rhaella tightly but his eye is fixed on the sight in front of them. On the bloody corpse of Vaemond Velaryon. On Daemon Targaryen and his sword called Dark Sister.

Next Part

Guess who's still alive? Me. I didn't die of jetlag. I had a nice vacation. Minus the whole getting trapped in the airport and getting delayed two extra days...anyway I have returned.

I saw the Deadpool and Wolverine movie yesterday. In conclusion, Wade Wilson is hot af and Wolverine is so shredded my jaw was on the floor. Hugh Jackman the man that you are...

Here's some fun pictures of my trip, I kinda wish I could've taken the chickens home...

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth

@franzelt

@holymusicalmothman

@koobratzy

@schelfinser

@mizuki80

@flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs

@mizuki80

@dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se

@minttea07

@void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #daemon targaryen #got #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #fanfic #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fluff #romance

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doublebellyman · 1 month ago

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It’s October 1st so fat thoughts naturally turn to the overconsumption of Halloween candy at month’s end. Here’s a little short story to get you prepared …

Halloween Ritual

“What is this, our tenth year?”

It took me a few seconds to answer my wife as my mouth was stuffed full of bite-sized Mr. Goodbars. “Yeah, ten years sounds about right honey.”

“Hmm,” she leered, “looks like someone has just about polished off an entire bag of Halloween candy” and gave my big belly a playful slap, sending it wobbling and rippling like crazy. “You’re just insatiable aren’t you Fat Boy, but don’t worry, I’ve got a bag of bite-size Snickers you can start on until our guests arrive.”

Just then our doorbell rung and she ran to the door to greet another batch of young trick or treaters … “don’t be give’n ’em all the good stuff I like,” I mumbled, mouth again full of chocolate and peanut goodness. “Don’t worry Chubs, I bought plenty extra for my blubbery hubby!”

I loved it when she said stuff like that! We met back in college when I was but a slightly chubby 160 pound sophomore and she a little 98 pound sprite of a junior who’d already established her reputation campus-wide as a chubby chaser. I was 195 pounds by the time she graduated and we planned to wed after my graduation the next year, provided I met her condition of eating myself to 225 pounds by then (though 250 would’ve been more her preference).

By the Fall of my senior year I’d only reached 202 pounds and that’s when our annual Halloween ritual began. She’d moved into an off-campus apartment and invited three other couples who were college friends to come over at 10 with any leftover Halloween candy they might have on hand, with the plan being to see how many calories her fat fiancé could consume!

Our friends loved the idea as they’d teased me incessantly over the years about how f**king fat I’d become and anytime we got together nagged me to “eat more for Mabel (my fiancé and now wife of nine years).”

That first Halloween set the standard for the annual ritual to follow with Mabel ordering me to wear a too tight shirt from my 160 pound days with lots of belly peaking out and ordering everyone not to clean up the candy wrappers that surrounded me on the couch, “so Two-Ton Timmy” (me) can see what a gluttonous pig he is!”

Anyone who dared take more than a couple of pieces of candy for themselves got an icy stare from Mabel and a stinging rebuke, “leave those for Tubby — he needs to pork up 225 before our honeymoon!” Our male friends would guffaw with laughter while our female friends politely stifled giggles over Mabel’s inflated plans for me, but the girls’ politeness abated when my appetite began to flag after about an hour of endless candy consumption.

As she saw my enthusiasm wane, Mabel snapped her fingers and one girl kneeled before me and the other two sat on either side of me, proffering candy to my lips and goading me to consume even more. “You can do it Fatty!” “Make Mabel proud of her Big Boy!” “This big belly can handle so much more!” “Keep going Tubby!” They were merciless, but I had fun and it was a definite turn on having three feeders and a wife who admitted later that she creamed her panties watching her friends stuff me so full.

By the end of my ordeal all three of them were grabbing handfuls of my belly fat and applying vigorous belly rubs and slaps as Mabel continued to look on approvingly and their boyfriends appeared to be getting hard-ons as their girlfriends said how much fun it was to play with all my extra belly fat!

So now, here we are ten years later and Mabel’s once merely chubby boyfriend is now a 440-pound behemoth of a husband. And the couples who joined us for our inaugural “Halloween Stuffing of the Pig” are now all happily married themselves and Mabel, as petite as ever, has become an inspiration and mentor to the wives, who over the years have learned her secrets for fattening up a man to obscene proportions!

Of course, I’m still the fattest of ‘em all, mainly because I had a head start … or at least I think I’m still in the lead. “Massive Mikey,” the last I saw him at a Labor Day cookout, seemed to be catching up fast, proudly telling me he’d just crested 380 pounds and that he (or rather his wife) had me in their sights!

We’ll find out soon enough, of course, as Mabel has my 750-pound capacity bariatric scale all set up in the living room ready to weigh the four “Hefty Hubbies” as the wives collectively now collectively refer to us.

Suddenly there’s an urgent ringing of our doorbell, meaning it’s 10 pm and time to commence our annual ritual of gluttony. Totally bare bellied, taking up almost all of a brand new extra-sturdy loveseat (replacing one I’d recently reduced to splinters), and surrounded by almost two full bags worth of candy wrappers, it’s just too damn much effort to heave myself to my feet, so Mabel hustles to the door to welcome our old friends!

She lets out a shriek and exclaims “you boys are f**king blimps!” And I see for myself as Massive Mikey, Bob the Blob, and Jumbo Jimmy waddle through what suddenly seems a very narrow opening, Mabel admiringly pats each on their massive protuberances and exclaims to the delight of their wives, “you boys may finally have caught up to the old Lard Lad here!”

Mikey, lips smeared with chocolate, admits “yeah Mabes, all of us made a pact after the Labor Day cookout, where Two Ton Timmy here smoked all of us, to out-eat him between then and Halloween!”

“Take your shirt off Mikey and show ‘em,” his wife Donna says with pride, “he’s packed on almost forty pounds in less than two months!” Mabel arched her eyebrows at the news, then pointed to Bob, who declares “32 pounds”, and then Jim who says “got all you fatties beat … 44 pounds!”

“OK you Hungry Hippos, you know the drill,” Mabel orders like a Marine drill sergeant, “line up at the scale and let’s see if you can beat my Timmy here — just look at that magnificent mountain of lard, fill in’ up our new loveseat, and already two bags of candy in — he’s gonna be hard for even you Tubsters to beat!”

Deciding to accept the challenge belly on, I rise from the loveseat, candy wrappers scattering before me, and the other wives gasp as they see how far down my belly apron reaches toward my knee caps, with maybe only an inch or two of clearance. “Don’t anyone declare victory just yet — Mabel is still the Feedress Queen!”

Beaming with wifely pride, she kisses me and wobbles my apron, just to show off her culinary handiwork to our friends. “Oh, thank you baby — I’m so proud of my piggie, the undisputed Feedee King — I love it that you just can’t stop eating!”

“You know I do it for you Honey.”

THE END UNTIL NEXT HALLOWEEN

#the fun of being fat #the joys of obesity #fat hubby tiny wife #gluttony is good #ffa bhm #ffa feedress

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diioonysus · 1 year ago

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my favorite historical facts

mayans believed that having crossed-eyes meant you were favored by the sun god kinich ahau, who was cross-eyed as well. in hopes that children would be, they would have objects dangled between their eyes to permanently cross their eyes.

ancient rome had a 4-story shopping mall with 150 shops and offices which was made in 113 AD

ancient egyptians invented toothpaste, they made it with rock salt, pepper, mint, and dried iris flowers

until recently (20th century) bones and mummies were used in traditional medicine, as some believed they could cure ailements by ingesting related body parts.

left-handed people were considered unlucky in ancient rome

lots of medieval barbers were also dentists and surgeons, which is why barbershops use red and white stripes because the stripes represent bandages used during bloodletting.

in medieval germany, married couples could legally settle their disputes by fighting a martial duel.

married women were not allowed to watch the ancient olympics, under penatly of death, but the vestal virigins in ancient rome were allowed to in some circumstances because their sacred building was knocked down to make a stadium

ancient greeks invented the first alarm clock in a system where pebbles would be dropped onto a gong and this would then make a loud sound

if a pirate ship approached flying a red flag with a hourglass on it then the defenders knew they were in some shit as red meant "give no quarter" and the hourglass meant essentially your time on earth was about to run out

shakespeare originated the "yo momma" joke, as in his one play titus androcius, a character says "thou has undone our mother," to which another character says "villain, i have done thy mother."

before abraham lincoln became a politician, he was a champion wrestler with more than 300 bouts under his belt, and only lost one match in his career. he was inducted into the national wrestling hall of fame in 1992

the gauls when trying to sack rome, caedicius had to get approval from the senate on the besieged capitoline. a messenger snuck through the gallic camp and scaled the unguarded cliff side of the hill to deliver the message. It was quickly decided to restore camillus to his command and to give him dictatorial powers and then the messenger snuck his way out again. the senone scouts discovered the messenger’s footprints and figured out that there was a way to scale the cliffs. they choose a night with a full moon and sent their bravest warriors up the cliff. none of the romans noticed, but the geese did. they started honking loudly and woke up the sleeping romans, the romans than pushed the gauls off the hill, and due to this fight the gauls suffered food shortages and diseases, so geese saved the day.

a pig was executed in 1386 after attacking a kid who would die from their wounds. the pig was arrested, kept in prison, and then sent to the court where it stood trial for murder, eventually being found guilty and then executed by hanging.

forks used to be considered blasphemous. when forks arrived in 11th century italy, it alarmed religious leaders because eating with artifical hands offended god.

the bluetooth design and name was named after the viking king harald bluetooth, based on an analogy that the technology would unite devices the way harald bluetooth united the tribes of denmark into a single kingdom. his intials in runes is the design of the logo

throwing an apple at somebody in ancient greece was considered flirting because the apple was sacred to aphrodite, so throwing it was declaring ones love

king george v of england was euthanized as his staff wanted his death to make the morning papers rather than the evenings ones, so they put him to death early without his consent

robert liston, a surgeon preformed an operation with a 300% mortality rate; he killed the patient and two other people

#history #im bored #ancient rome #ancient greece

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missglaskin · 2 years ago

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An Eye for A Bride

Part 1

The story contains trigger warnings read at your own caution

Reader takes Lucerys’ place. And to be exclusive, the reader is adopted but has Targaryen blood. SPOILER ALERTS FOR FIRE AND BLOOD

TAGS: Sadistic/Dark!Aemond, EXPLICIT: Noncon/Dubcon, forced anal, manhandling. Violence: blood, abuse, character death, bruises/scars, choking, panic attacks, cursing. Forced Marriage, Toxic/unhealthy relationship, Flashbacks.

“A sword?” The prince asks, blinking a few times. It was his tenth name-day. Presented with extravagant gifts as fitted for a prince. Yet yours was an odd surprise. Considering how you haven't always been the friendliest to him, he looks at the gift suspiciously.

Maybe he thought this was your of making it up to him. You did laugh at him. When your brother Luke emerged from the shadows with a pig. Shouting along the name of the said pig. "The Pink Dread!" Laughing harder when Aegon oinked to his ear.

But you did approach Aemond the next day. Who sat near the tree with a book in his hand. The two of you stared at each other for a brief moment. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. You just turned around and walked away from the prince.

You decided to approach him once more. The word spread of him attempting to claim a dragon, nearly getting burned in the process. Yet your steps were halted when you caught sight of his mother. You quickly turned away, unaware the prince saw you do so.

This time, you were able to face the prince with the sword you had given; displayed to the entirety of the room along with its sheath. Among the crowd, you catch Alicent's anxious expression. She perhaps believes her son is too young to handle such a sword. She was right to think so because as soon as Aemond removes it from its sheath, the sword's tip drops to the ground. Almost sending him flying.

Aemond’s embarrassment is clearly seen as he hears the laughter of the other boys. Especially by Aegon's remark that the sword would have to serve as a decoration than be wielded. But the instant Aemond looks down, his brother's remark is ignored.

The surprise and awe are too much for him to contain. The sword was beautiful with its sapphire-encrusted rain guard. A deep royal blue. The most valuable and scarce of all. He lifts the sword with all of his strength, revealing it to the others as they all let out a collective gasp.

“It was once my necklace.” Your mother reluctantly agreed to have the blacksmith put it in the sword. It took all your pleading for it to happen. Hearing Aemond scoff at your words makes you frown. You already know what he's thinking-that you were her little spoiled princess.

Still, you forced the thought aside to focus on the prince whose wonderment at your gift fills you with a sense of fulfillment. Even more at the sight of Aegon's envy. Finally, Aemond was content with having what his brother lacked. You tried to conceal your excitement when Aemond gave a sincere smile of gratitude.

At your aunt Laena's funeral, when you saw him again, you returned his half-smile unlike your brother Jace. You were unaware this would be the last time you and him will ever greet each other warmly.

As the night ended with Aemond screaming clutching his bloody eye as you towered over him with a blade. Dropping it when the king's guards arrived. Frozen and horrified as you hear shouts at every turn. Clutching to your mother’s side.

The noises never left your ears. From every corner, there were shouts. The council left divided. Speaking over each other. As if you weren’t there. As though you were invisible to their eyes as none dared to look your way.

Trying to stand up, you are bruised and dirtied. There is evidence of moisture in your skin, hair, and even in the remaining teeth. Clearly in danger of collapsing. Having to be held through the entire ride to king’s landing, but you hoped his grip would loosen. Let you fall and not face the fucked up reality you’re in.

No longer were there any tears. Letting them fall as he pushed you into the muddy ground with the corpse of Dame not far away. Let each one drop during your ride to the place you’re meant to call home. You are now left feeling the burning of your cheek and much thirst in your throat.

“Rhaenyra was finally considering peace!” Alicent’s voice towering over the council. Most enraged you have ever seen. Trembling hands and uneasy breathing. You only ever witnessed this state once-on that dreadful day.

That meant war. If Aegon's ascension to the throne wasn't the start of it, then taking her child hostage all while killing her dragon will be the one to do it. But there was still hope, Tyland insisted. They could just return you. The dragon’s death is a tragedy, but you can claim another and with your wounds, they’ll heal in no time.

The way Aemond's body tensed at his words can be felt. The dead dragon was not the cause for concern, nor were the wounds. But something far worse. Your maidenhood. All that was forcibly taken away. An act if it ever reached your mother’s ears. What she would do will only be known to the gods.

But they don’t know. Not Alicent, not Otto, not Tyland. No one. Only you and the one-eyed prince.

It took them this long, but they finally sent you away to get cleaned and tended to. In spite of your disdain, you are to go to the halls with none other than Ser Criston Cole. You move forward, wanting to retain some part of your pride, only to fall into the knight's chest.

And against your will, you’re forced to swallow that one last piece of pride; leaning on him for support as he guides you to your supposed chambers. Despite their eyes being on you, you refused to look back at the council.

As you come face to face with the maester. You catch the look in his eye and the hesitation in his steps. The handmaidens also exchange looks with one another. At the sight of you, none of them dared to utter a word.

The second your trousers were pulled down against your will. Using all your remaining strength, you fought, even managing to bite the maester's hand and dig your nails into one of the handmaidens.They winced, but didn’t falter much in their movements. Were you this weakened.

In such a ruined state that you could do nothing but lie there as their eyes swept over you. Right in front of their very eyes remains the evidence. On your inner thighs, the dried white substance. And layers of marks, but what most caught the eye was the darkening bruise on your hips.

They all knew. And they all knew who had done it. Who else would it be. Their stares made you want to sink deeper into the sheets. To smother your face in anything you could hide into. But there’s no haven from their judging gazes. The weight of shame is in the pit of your stomach, holding you down with all of its might.

So it was no surprise to hear the argument on the other side of the door.

You have now become a hostage. A piece of some bargaining. Your mother must have received the letter a while ago. You hoped that the letter informing her of your presence in King's Landing reached her before the news of Dame's death. You didn’t want to imagine her panic and grief as her thoughts wandered to the worst with the discovery of your dragon’s corpse.

Every step you made was watched. Whether it was by the guards, they had constantly surrounding you, the ladies and lords who made way for you like you were some sort of plague or the servants you could hear whispering behind your back.

At least they dressed you with some decency. Upon seeing the dress was emerald green, a strong urge to throw it into the fireplace arose. You thought it was Aemond’s idea, adding to the humiliation he had already inflicted upon you. But by Aegon’s amused expression, you become well aware that it was his. Still, you maintain your composure, displaying no discomfort as you held your head high.

The only thing that gave you some ease, a glimmer of hope was the wrath your mother will display. She’ll hesitate with you under their grasp, but once you’re back in her arms. In her arms. Your lips quiver at the thought.

You want your mother. Never did you think you’d yearn for her so much. The last time you did was during one of your nightmares. Coming to her; shaking and in tears, and as soon as you were in her embrace, you felt protected. Safe.

You miss her. You miss Daemon. You miss Jace and Luke. You miss Rhaena. You miss little Aegon and Viserys. And the thought of never having to see them again makes your heart ache as if it's being stabbed every time. You already lost Dame. Whom you miss the most.

When you passed another group of lords and ladies, you saw how they got closer to one another, the way they exchanged their whispers. And to calm some of your fury. You imagined Daemon standing over them. Imagined Jace telling them off. Imagined Luke and Rhaena's glares.

And a smile spreads across your face as you envision your mother setting this whole place down with flames. And when you imagine Dame burning Aemond, then tearing him to pieces, and swallowing him whole, your teeth start to show.

But your fantasy is put to rest as soon as you pass the queen's chamber and catch the sound of a familiar voice. After taking a look around the hallways. You then advance, placing your ear to the door.

You raise your brows when you hear the husky timbre of a certain voice. “You told me to never forget what they’ve done to me,” that voice belonged to none other than Aemond, “To never forget what she has done to me.” At the mention of the ‘she’, you were certain it was you. Or your mother.

“But to take revenge on her in such a manner!” And then you heard the desperate voice of Alicent, one that sounded in pain with sorrow lacing it. “To defile her,” she spoke, voice lower than before. Silence filled the room.

Then the words, barely audible above a whisper, broke the stillness. "You understand what this now means?" Before the words could sink in. You are startled when you sense a presence looming over you. It was Cole. "Come princess," he said disdainfully, and in no room to argue, you follow.

When he leads you into your 'chambers', you smile at him. Expressing your gratitude, you shut the door, leaving Cole standing outside bewildered. You truly do have to thank Criston. Sitting on the bed as you take something out of your sleeve. A blade.

Pretending to trip over the stairs, and when he went to help you up, your hand strayed. Though those thanks were to be given to Daemon. You had no intention of ever using that trick he taught you, but here you were.

You didn’t know how long you held the blade, clutching it so fervently to your chest as if it were a stuffed bear to keep you company at night. The door to your chambers opened, and you quickly slid it into your sleeve before wincing as you felt a small amount of blood seep into your skin.

Fear consumed every inch of your body as soon as you saw who it was. Feeling your heart beat so violently against your chest, on the verge of erupting from the ribs, keeping it at bay. You kept your feet pressed firmly to the ground. Perhaps to put an end to its shakiness or to run at the first chance. Or Possibly both.

You tried to remain stern. Yet with your panicked eyes, raised brow, and quivering lips. It gave it all away. His mouth opens to speak, but not a word is said.

Then you saw the narrowing of his eye. As you follow his gaze, you notice your sleeve is stained with blood. And you try to stay put when he advances towards you. In a sudden move, your body is steered toward him, grabbed by the arm. Your hands on his chest, pressing your palms against him, pushing as hard as you can.

You gasp when the arm that was held is clenched tightly. “The green suits you,” he finally speaks. It being his first words. And you can't resist the urge to punch him in the face right there and then. Even when you feel his breath on your skin and his nose lightly touching yours.

You move your head away, only to whimper when his other hand grasps the back of your neck. Forcing you to remain put. And you feel his lip just barely brush your ear's outer shell as he asks, "Did you think I wouldn't notice what is exposed on your sleeve?" Your body trembles as if you were under a harsh, freezing rain.

His fingers press into the sleeve where the blade's outline is. You didn't know why you did it. Perhaps it was the desperation. Perhaps it is the lingering anger. Perhaps it was just plain stupidity. But your feet collided with his knee. He backed away, his grip slipping.

The small blade taken out of the sleeve was thrust at him. While he was taken off guard. In a blink of an eye, his hand moved. Retaining the wrist that held the blade. It was only a few inches from his throat. With just one push. Just one. The tip would pierce the skin.

Truly, you had no plan on what to do next. Hurting him was your only hope. To get rid of him. Outside the hallways was Criston. You would be caught and put to death. But you’ve long since come to terms that you won’t live to see another day. At least you will leave the world having done something.

But your strength has proven to be feeble against his. His grip was firm while yours trembled.

The blade backed away from his throat. But it's not you. It's the hand placed over yours. Your eyes widen when he doesn't put his hand down, pressing it against yours instead. More so when the blade is moving to your side. And before you realize it, it’s just centimeters away from your face.

You try to remove your hand away, but his grip prevents it. You didn't look away from him when the tip of the blade touched your cheek. Even when you felt it firmly graze the skin, but not deep enough to cut it.

Then the blade is taken. Thrown to the side. Your eyes follow it.

Only to shriek when he grasps your hair and pulls you roughly to his side. Then, with a yank of your hair, you were forced to follow him where his hand went. Your hand frantically reaches for his, sinking your nails deep into his skin. A hiss is heard, but all it does is make him pull your hair up, throwing your head back.

With one last tug, you found yourself colliding with something hard. Tears began to form in your eyes as your nose bumped into the wall. Before you even have a chance to push yourself off, your face is shoved to the wall once more. On the back of your head was his hand.

Your legs are exposed to the warm air. And you realize it’s Aemond tugging at your gown. Your hand reaches back, hitting, scratching. Doing whatever it takes to stop him. Gasping when hearing the fabric being torn.

He then presses his body against yours, caging you to the wall. By now, the gown is tugged far above your waist, exposing your lower region to the prince.

Briefly coming face-to-face with him. You spat in his face. It wasn't about stopping him at this point. There was no way of doing so. No amount of kicks or slaps will dissuade him. This was just for the sake of humiliation. To degrade him in any way. And it worked-jaw tightened and eye blinking a few times at your doing.

Your victory was however short-lived. You are grabbed yet again. Your stomach landing on something soft. The bed. You looked back, thinking he’ll turn you over. Feel his fingers tracing your thigh. Rather, you witness him take his pants' belt off. Your stomach drops. He is going to take you in this position.

You move to lift your body only to be immediately pushed back down. Kicking your legs as he pushes the gown up once more. He merely holds them. Your behind exposed to the air in the room. You sense him coming up the bed. Spreading your legs as his knees are in the space between.

He lies on top of you, chest pressed against your back. Your heart beat was felt in your throat, thumping loudly. But you told yourself not to plead, not to beg for mercy. It’ll only arouse him. He drank on your suffering and you weren’t willing to give him anything to satisfy on.

His hand reaches down to rub his cockhead around your hole, chucking at the sounds of your whimpers. Your fingers gripped the sheets, a fear of what he’ll do burning within you. A hand comes to your throat. And then the head of his cock pushed into your hole. And you found yourself almost on the verge of screaming at the sensation.

It’s all too painful. His cock stretches you wide, making you feel every inch of him. Unconscious tears slip down your cheeks as you’re forced to adjust to his size. You tried to ease into the sensation, but this is unlike anything before.

All kinds of noises were coming out of you. Every vein and ridge against your sensitive walls can be felt. Igniting a fire down to your core. Aemond lets out a throaty groan. You detest how the heat spreads to your skin when hearing it.

“Didn’t think you’d get any tighter,” he muses before ramming his cock into your hole. You’re embarrassed at the loud moan that escaped your lips. He pushed back and forward with short, shallow thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin intensifies with each passing second.

With each stroke, you feel him move deeper. Feel the way you clench so tightly around his cock. Feel his hands moving from underneath you from your stomach to your chest. Another moan escapes you when his hand squeezes your fabric-covered breasts. His thrusts have gotten faster, and you find yourself unable to keep up with his pace.

Without even realizing, you inch forwards; the feeling is overwhelming and disorienting. Your face is wet with tears, but they are no longer from the pain. Everything is coated in pleasure. Filled to the brim with each snap of his hips against your ass.

His thrusts have started to get sloppy and frantic. Angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with relative ease. And then it happened. He reaches his high, spurting thick ropes of cum over your velvet walls as his cock twitches inside of you.

You’re taken back when he goes back to rolling hips again. And it was only after experiencing the ecstasy of an orgasm that you understood why he had done it. Your face feels warm as you lay there with him on top of you, your juice trickling down your thigh. You're certain that Criston heard your cries when your orgasm hit.

Then he pulls away. Adjusting himself and then heading to leave. Briefly, he pauses. Maybe you were thinking too much of it, but you were sure he had something to say. Before the whole incident with the blade. In relation to the blade, you find out the prince didn't bring it with him.

You remain in bed the same way the prince left you—you don't know how long. You aren't compelled to leave until Ser Criston enters after knocking on your door. Being made to put on a new gown and get your sleeve bandaged.

If Criston did indeed hear the noises that came earlier that day, he didn’t show it. If he had noticed the change in the wardrobe and the trembling in every step due to your sore legs, he said nothing.

Soon you are sat with a table in front of you, an empty sheet of paper, and some ink on the side. The chair in front of you is occupied by the queen regent, who is surrounded by other members of the council. An awkward silence fills the chambers. However, when Otto spoke, it cut through the tension in the room like a knife through butter.

He claims that a rumor made its way throughout the castle. “A vile rumor,” Alicent made sure to add. You merely exchange confused looks with them. Every day, whispers are heard. Every day, tens of thousands of rumors are spread. Your eyes flit over to Criston, who is standing to the side; even his face suggests that he might have heard it.

Tyland starts to speak, but he seems to be struggling to find the right words, or rather the appropriate words to use. “That our prince Aemond Targaryen has taken your maidenhood," Lord Wydle interrupts, pausing for a moment before adding, "with force". Tyland goes to speak again, "But we know that's not possibly true-" "Of course it's not," Otto chimes in, cutting Tyland off.

So that’s what it is. And the incident from today comes to mind. Is that what he came to discuss with you. Only for him to force himself on you again. The others stared at you bewildered, as you couldn't help but laugh at the slight irony. The look of almost guilt on Ser Criston's face now makes the most sense.

Your name was called before Criston could look you in the eye. Turning to look at the disgruntled council. They all seem incredibly eager to leave and be done with this whole thing. You won't lie by admitting that it fills you with some amusement. Your gaze catches Alicent's, who has her eyes averted from you.

Your eyes hardly leave her, as Otto demands what you must do. If they are to have spies, these false rumors, as Otto claims they are, will likely reach your mother and Daemon. That you will write a letter to your mother claiming this is all untrue and that your maidenhood remains intact. That you are safe, well, and even happy.

You wanted to laugh once more. Did he think this would fool your mother? To fool Daemon out of all people. Nevertheless, you did as you were told. writing down all of the spoken words. You knew it didn't matter, but you weren't aware that the particular white worm or the handmaiden you dug your nails into was to blame.

Late at night, you didn’t spend as much time in your chambers before a bunch of servants barged into your chambers. They all hurried you into the bathtub, scrubbing and scenting every inch of your body.

You stare in awe at the stunning white dress they are getting you dressed in. It wasn't like the ones you get. The dress's skirts are twice as wide, and the interior linings appear to be made of gold. Your curves are prominently displayed as it tightly envelops your body. And that's not even mentioning all the jewelry they've adorned you with; crafted from jade.

You asked the servants what the occasion was. It was a feast, they told you. A feast? You would be surprised to find quite the crowd at that hour of the night. Still, what feast demands that one dress in such opulence.

The servants scramble to leave the room when the door opens. Criston's presence does not surprise you. He leads you down the wide hallways. Given how heavy the dress is, it was difficult to descend the stairs.

As you continue to walk, you realize how quiet the area is—far too quiet. A feast was intended. Where is the music, the laughter, the chatter. You now are faced with a closed door. “They’re waiting for you,” he says. And the realization dawns on you.

What sort of feast would wait for you. Why would they wait for you. You were the daughter of their sworn enemy. A traitor in their eyes. You're a hostage, for goodness' sake. Hostage, hostage, hostage—that phrase kept repeating in your head.

This was a wedding. They were waiting for you. The bride.

The words Alicent said played in the back of your head: "You know what this means." When Aemond entered your chambers, that is what he wanted to tell you. But was rather distracted by something else, and even if he weren't, he wouldn't have told you. Most likely, everyone on the Council was involved. And as you turned to face Criston, you, at last, understood the guilt on his features.

He gives you a pleading look, as if not to fight this. To just accept it. But you shook your head as you took a few steps back. Feeling as though the place is begging to spin, and having such a tightness in your throat, making it all the harder to breathe. Criston calls for you as you move away, but it all seems like a haze to you.

The sinking feeling in your stomach makes you bend, a need to vomit, but nothing comes out. You place your hands on your chest as it moves up and down rapidly, trying to calm it down. Following you, the knight is at a loss for what to do as

You jump and move to push the hand that touches you. Surprised to see it’s Alicent. More so when she grabs you in her arms. Your body tensed under her touch. But it’s been so long since anyone showed you an ounce of kindness that oddly enough, you welcomed it.

To her shoulder, you sobbed, drenching the cloth. It doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Her hand moves to your back, rubbing up and down as she soothes your cries. You tried to imagine this was the arms of your mother. That it was her comforting you, reassuring you.

Your blood turns cold and your fantasy is crushed when you hear Alicent's words "Make him happy". And you drew yourself away from her. Looking down at her, your eyes were filled with disdain. When she goes to offer you a small cloth, you use the sleeves instead to dab your tears and snot.

With your eyes puffy and red, you move to stand in front of the door. With a nod to Criston, you signal the doors to open. It's not like you had a choice in the matter. All heads turn to the sound.

Only a few people were present. The family, as well as the green council, were present. They were all clearing a path for you to walk to the altar. So you were right. They were all in this together.

A three-step staircase was in front of you. From behind you, Alicent descends the stairs and rushes to the side of her family where Otto and Helaena are. Aegon is also standing there, and when you see him leave his family's side and come toward you, you try to convey your confusion.

Coming up the stairs, he moves to your side. “What’re you doing” you whisper low enough so the others wouldn’t hear. He offers you his arm, "Your father is dead isn't he?". Daemon should be the one to walk you. But he’s not here is he. With a sigh, you take his arm and link it with yours as you step down the stairs.

While you do so, you can feel everyone watching your every step. But your gaze is fixed on the altar, not on any of them. Aemond is waiting for you. You think your mind is playing tricks on you, seeing his eye on yours getting darker and darker with each step. Filled with madness only a Targaryen would possess.

It's unusual to not see him dressed in black; instead, he adorns the color white, bright gold-lined clothing that looks similar to yours. There were red accents and some black patterns. He has styled his long, silvery hair as usual, but a braid is added resting on his shoulder. It pains you to admit it, but there was a moment when he was illuminated by a new light, allowing you to appreciate his beauty like never before.

Your attention shifted to the crowd before you could approach him. Each with a different expression. Otto has a stern expression on his face, Helaena is staring at you blankly, and Alicent is the only one who smiles at you through her eyes conveying a different story.

When you finally get to the one-eyed prince, you almost gasp at how quickly he takes hold of your hand and frees you from his brother's grip before Aegon could hand you over to him.

The moment your feet are on the altar with the septon looking over you both. The panic that strikes again is unavoidable. You make eye contact with a few people in the crowd as you turn your head to face them; they are able to see the horror in your eyes. The desperation you feel as you silently beg for someone to say something, to speak up about this injustice. The room, however, is still utterly silent.

Fingers gripping your jaw, face turned back to the man in front of you. Surprisingly, it was a gentle touch. The violet eye catches your tear-filled ones. It tells you that you’re alone. That nothing can or will change this. That this is your fate.

In response, you swallow and nod your head. Accepting the hand that reaches to you, facing the Septon. As the septon speaks, you allow a tear to slip down your cheek. Accepting your demise, at last. When you turn your head to look at Aemond, you realize his eye never left yours.

In the sight of gods and men, the two of you exchange vows. Cloaked and brought under his protection. Instead of the traditional red three-headed dragon sigil embroidered in the cloak, it’s gold.

Only Aemond and the Septon can hear your trembling voice. Once the vows have been said. You know this was it. Whatever miracle you hoped for is gone. Shattered to pieces. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.

Standing there, you know what is about to happen. You move in closer to Aemond with the intention of kissing his cheek. Only to be caught off guard at the feeling of his mouth against yours. One hand is on the back of your neck, the other on your waist.

Low murmurs are coming from the sparse crowd. This was far from appropriate. Your hand rests on his shoulder, pressing your palm to the cloth, trying to push him away. Eventually, he does pull away, but not before you felt his tongue slither into your mouth.

The kiss made you feel as if the world was a blur. Your knees weaken and Aemond has you lean on him. You meekly whisper 'to the table', and he complies. Sitting there, you seem to be in a daze. Aegon can be heard raising his wine in a toast, something along the 'Welcoming you into their side.'

Noises soon surround you from all sides. There is music playing, laughter, and conversations happening. But due to the rush of blood to your ears, you can hardly hear anything. Your newlywed husband is seated next to you. The food on your plates hardly touched. Even your wine cups.

You can see the odd looks others gave you. Not a single laugh or word between you and Aemond. He hasn’t even asked you for a dance. It was Aegon who did, coming to his brother’s side. He seemed drunk in such a short time, or maybe he already was but you perhaps didn't notice.

Aegon takes the cup of his brother's wine, taking a sip from it as he extends his hand. Hesitantly, you agree, taking his hand. Aemond’s annoyed look is clearly seen in not only having his cup stolen, but his bride.

What is for you to do. You can't deny a king's request, and even if you do, you're not sure Aemond will come to your defense.

As you dance with Aegon, you once again feel the strange looks of others. The bride is dancing with a man other than her husband. It’s an unusual sight. They keep it to themselves though as this time it’s not the prince they will speak of, but rather the king.

“I must say I didn’t expect this from my brother,” you simply nod along, until his words finally register in your head. At first, you thought he was referring to the wedding, but as soon as you saw that sneering expression on his face, you understood. The rumors. How is it that he made you regret your course of actions in a span of seconds.

“But it was always meant to happen one day,” he mutters. Nervously swallowing at what he meant. Aegon brings you closer to him, “Your mother wanted to wed you to me, you know?” You nod. This came as no shock. Before she moved to Dragonstone, your mother had intended to wed your brother Jace to Helaena and you to Aegon. A resolution to the conflict between two families.

You've always believed Helaena deserved someone as kind and understanding as your brother. But in the process, it meant marrying someone as lustful and arrogant as Aegon. Though those unions were prevented by Alicent as she wed Aegon to Helaena. But on the other hand, you are married to his brother, your fate sealed.

“But did you know you were meant to wed Aemond” now that was what shocked you. You glared reluctantly at him. How is this your first time knowing this. Your mother would’ve surely told you or anyone else in the matter. Though he appears to be in a drunken haze, you wanted to believe he was lying but what motive would he have for doing so.

“Father insisted on it after you took my brother’s eye,” your lips press in a tight line at the mention. “Mother was against it of course, and so was yours, In fact, it was her who ended the proposal,” his grip on your waist tightened as you feel his breath on your face.

You felt trapped under his arms and gaze. But for a time, you choose not to fight him. Your curiosity getting the best of you as you continue to hear him speak. “She said she’ll marry you off to Jace when the two of you come of age, so imagine our surprise dear niece when we come to find he’s to wed Baela instead”.

It’s the reason why you felt his eye on you the entire petition. You thought it was to intimidate you. Maybe it was, but it became more than one reason. He harbored a much deeper grudge against your brother than you believed it to be.

Your mother enters your thoughts. You didn’t understand why she’d lie, never did she mention a possibility of you and Jace ever being wed. Did she somehow fear Alicent. After all, you had taken out her son's eye.

Did she fear Aemond? He was a young boy for the time being, but he’ll soon become a man and grow to resent you. If that is what she believed, no one could blame her for it. In the end, he did hurt you. In all ways possible.

“It’s such a shame that my brother gets to have such a beautiful bride,” your thoughts are abruptly stopped as he says this with his calloused fingers playing with your necklace. A glint in his violet gaze makes you uneasy. You have seen it in lords with intentions beyond courting.

“If you shall ever feel unsatisfied with my brother,” his chest brushes to yours and you move to step back in response. Only to squirm when he tugs harshly at the necklace holding you in place, “you know where to find me,” he finishes, mouth curving upwards. And when his pink lips touch the shell of your ear, his next words send a chill down your spine, “After all, it doesn’t matter which one of us puts a baby in you.”

Putting your hand on his chest to shove him away. And finally, he complies. His hand goes to grab your arm, bringing you over to your table, where you see Aemond. “Come everyone, let’s prepare for the bedding ceremony!”

Everyone can see the king is beyond drunk, eyes barely open, and face red. “There’ll be no bedding ceremony,” Aemond simply responds and for the first time, you feel somewhat grateful at his involvement.

Aegon then reaches to grip his head, muttering under his breath on how it hurts. Ser Criston is signaled and he and another guard drag Aegon out of the place. He’s so intoxicated to the point that he can no longer stand. You don’t miss the way everyone looks at him with exasperation. So this is the king of the seven kingdoms, you bitterly thought.

You’re jolted by Aemond’s touch. “Come, my wife, we must rest,” he says, gesturing for you to follow him and you do so without another word. There was no ‘rest’ with Aemond, or should you call your husband now.

As the second you were in his chambers, it ended with you bare on his bed and him on top of you. The wedding dress of yours torn and thrown somewhere on the ground. The first time was excoriating. The second time was painful. The third time was bearable.

Aemond had left long after, to his own chambers no doubt. Once the doors were closed. Your body writhes in sobs. There is no end to the tears falling. Is this meant to be your life, weeping every day like a widow in mourning. But you’re not mourning a dead husband. You mourn for your life. How it came to be. The tragedies that followed. And will continue to follow.

At night, you are awakened by someone. It was far too early for it to be the morning. You find yourself in complete darkness when you first open your eyes, save for a candle that is close to you. If not for the hand covering your mouth, you would have almost shrieked when you saw a face. The figure wore a cloak. Which they took off to reveal a man. Young for his age.

You remember the compromising position you’re in, grabbing the sheets to hold them to your bare chest. The man looks away awkwardly as he explains who he was and who sent him. His name was Pete. And when the mention of Daemon is made, you sit up right away, almost forgetting to hold the sheets. He then throws you a cloak, facing you with his back.

You quickly put on your clothes and wore the said cloak. Pete opens the door and gestures for you to follow. You hesitantly do so. When you glance out of the corner of your eye, there was nobody watching the hallways. Then you see it. A fire spreading at a far distance. His work, no doubt.

What about Aemond. You asked as the two of you sneak through the halls. “He’ll be dealt with.” Dealt with, hearing this made you almost stop at your tracks. “We had a servant put something in his wine, knock him out for good. The men will have their fun with him.”

Wine? No, he couldn’t possibly mean the one in the wedding. You haven’t seen Aemond take not one sip from it, or maybe he did. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention. But it made sense now. The way Aegon made a fool of himself. You didn't share your discovery with Pete, remaining silent throughout the whole way.

As if sensing your weariness, he turns with a smile, “Don’t worry princess, we’ll give you your justice from that one-eyed scum and that little brat of theirs.” You assume the ‘little brat’ was Aegon. Was it possible? Is Daemon this willing to murder both the king and prince in one night. Chaos has already begun due to war, but this will further exacerbate it.

You don't remember how many stairs you descended until the two of you are moving through a tunnel. The tunnel leads to the chilly wind outside, huddling under your cloak for warmth. In front of you, is the open water. And the boat. Pete kneels down, reaching for the rope that ties the boat to the shore.

Suddenly you scream, but by the time Pete gets to his feet to react, a sword slashes him across the chest. Towering over him is Aemond.

He faces you, a bloodied sword in his hand. As if hunting for its prey, eyes unhinged and crazed. Hair loose and disheveled. A number of cuts were visible on his chest and shoulders. Nose bloodied and a small cut on his lip.

A groan comes out of Pete. And you’re terrified at the realization that he’s still alive. You try to rush over to him, letting out a cry, but it’s too late as Aemond thrusts the sword into his neck. The blood splatters, and even drops, can be seen on his face.

Your hand is placed over your mouth as he draws the sword out, feeling the urge to throw up at the sight. Aemond then raises his sword and points it in your direction. The tip nearly presses against the cloak, and you struggle to keep your chest from fluttering up and down.

“Do you recognize this sword” he asks, quite so casually as if one small step forward wouldn't be enough to pierce your skin. You shake your head. “Look at it,” the fear rendered you unresponsive, and you had to be told a second time. You at last looked.

It looks like every other sword. You recall him using it against Criston during his practice. The familiarity only becomes apparent when your eyes focus on a small detail. A shape that appeared to be missing almost carved out, was seen in the rain guard. Your gasp told him it finally came to you.

“What irony would it be” Aemond’s voice fills the tunnel, “If I killed you with the sword you had given me?” Your stomach clenches when the sword is inches away from your gut. “Or better yet, if I strangle you with my own hands?”

He doesn't give you a chance to speak as the sword falls to the ground and both hands wrap around your throat. “When my foolish brother sobers up, he’d want you dead,” the hand tightens its grip and your head is starting to spin as you gasp for air.

“For what they did to Jaehaerys. A child for a child” cold eye staring at your wide ones. Jaehaerys? Daemon sent a kill for Jaehaerys? No, it had to be a mistake. Your mother would have never allowed that. He was only six, an innocent boy who had done nothing wrong. This was far too cruel even for Daemon.

“This wasn’t all they had done dear wife,” the word ‘wife’ was uttered with malice. Your nails clawed at his hands, but it was all in vain. “I woke up to two men trying to cut off my manhood, a revenge for the princess they said.”

You feel your life is slipping away. Gods, was he going to kill you. Was this how you’ll die. In some dark tunnel on the other side of King’s landing. “But I wonder how your dear step-father of yours will react when he knows how much you’ll miss it if it did,” he spat out. Using all your strength, you try to pry his hands away. Between the struggle, your eyes caught sight of the sword lying a foot away from Pete's body.

A sudden realization dawned on you.

He kept the swords all those years. He trained with it, fought with it. And when he lost his eye, he took the sapphire that you had given him and placed it in its stead.

You were right to fear Aemond in that he’d hurt you. Ruin you. But not in that he’ll kill you. Cause he could have at any moment. He should have left you on that island, but he didn’t. He didn’t put up any struggle when you were wed. He wanted you to wed him. He hated you. There was no doubt, but there was something else, another feeling involved beyond it.

With small ragged gasps, you were able to utter a few words. “Do it,” you say in a raspy voice. “Do it,” you say this time a little louder only to feel his palm press harder. Your lungs start to aches, eyes bulging, and the edge of your vision turning dark. This may be it, your end.

And then his grip loosens. Letting you go.

Your body collapsed to the ground, catching your breath all while coughing. The cold air fills your lungs as you lie on the harsh ground.

His confused look was apparent when you let out a choked laugh. He loved you. The fucker loved you. Loved you in the most fucked up way possible. And it’s killing him, tearing him apart, yet he’s blind do it.

The boat is still on the water, swaying side to side, but there is no way you can escape to it. With your face pressed to the ground, you accepted the reality of the situation. You were trapped. Caged. A hostage.

It’s his fault. All his fault. But you knew once you return to the castle, they will all blame you for the death of the young prince. Point you to the crime. After all, it was done in your name. You may find yourself strangled in sleep, pushed from a window, or poisoned. From someone who assumes this is justice for the prince Jaehaerys.

You needed Aemond. You needed him on your side. If you ever hope to see your mother again, your family again. He was the key.

So when you were lifted by your hair, forced to stand by the prince, he’s surprised by your lips crashing into his. You feel him melting into your touch before he forcibly pulls you away. Lips as blooded as his. As he tilts his head, he yanks your hair, throwing your head back.

He knows what you’re doing, yet he still tugs your head forward for your lips to meet once more. “My place is on your side,” you whisper to his lips. He scoffs under his breath. Liar. That’s what his eye tells you.

Taking a deep breath, you take the courage to do what you must do. Your knee was raised. And his body tenses at what to expect, a kick perhaps. Only to hiss when feeling your knee brush against his lower region. His hand goes to rest on it as if signaling you to stop. But as you fix your gaze on him, you again brush your knees against something firm. The act causes him to groan between his teeth.

You didn’t fight when sensing his hands’ inch under your cloak and your dress. You didn’t fight when he laid you on the rough ground, mounting on top of you. This time, you stared at him, mouth open and brows furrowed. This time it was you who removed his patch. It caused him to hesitate, almost halting his movements, but then he had gone back to moving his hips again, albeit faster than before.

Something damp was felt by your fingers on the ground. Pete's blood. It leaked from his body. You didn't react to it, digging the same bloodied fingers into the prince's shoulder as he sinks rougher inside you.

You were playing a game, and he knew it. The question was how long he was willing to play along.

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leviathanspain · 2 years ago

Text

i hate everything about you

aemond targaryen x velaryon(strong)!reader

enemies to lovers

synopsis: since taking his eye, the one eyed prince has loathed you and you hold anything but love towards him

a/n: male manipulator aemond

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you watched as the dagger from your hand fell to the ground, a mushed eyeball falling down next to it as he screamed. everything felt like it was suddenly in slow motion as your parents bursted into the room, following the king and queen. you began to sob, and you ran into your mothers skirts. she hugged you tightly, and was talking to you but all you could do was cry as aemond screamed.

you had barely let yourself turn to see alicent dangerously close to your mother, yelling at her as muffled arguments ensued. your brothers began to take your side, but your mind floated off into a place where none of this was happening, where you hadn’t maimed aemond.

that had been years ago. kings landing was a faraway dream to you now, and driftmark was now your everlasting home. but as you were summoned to kings landing, by the king, you realized that the dream was now a soured nightmare that had become reality.

“y/n velaryon.” you turned to see who had called your name just moments after you had dismounted your dragon. the pit had been empty, or so it seemed.

you turned with a smile, and instead were met with a deadly smirk. his targaryen locks cascaded down his back, the band of his eyepatch creating a crease in the locks. his singular eye was trained on your face, his eyebrows raised with contempt and a smirk made to make you crumble.

you could’ve given him the reaction that he wanted. and if growing up alongside him had given you anything, it was that aemond wanted to be feared.

“oh my, aegon you scared me!” you laughed one of your more breathy laughs, walking past him. you knew saying the wrong name would get on his nerves, especially if you went with the front that you had forgotten what you had done to him.

he followed close behind and was pursing his lips. you had said his brothers name instead of his. what a stupid girl, you seemed.

“it’s aemond. but i supposed the family resemblance is, strong, isn’t it?” there it was. the beginning to a new string of insults.

“that is how you get your other eyeball cut out. i suggest you find other ways to be a nuisance.” you continued to walk, untying your dragon riding leathers, you walked past a few guards, giving them all your best smile as aemond walked closely behind you.

aemond grabbed your arm and you stopped. you turned to see him smiling down at you, “certainty you don’t suggest that already?” you pulled your lips back in a frown of disgust as you ripped your arm back, “pig.” you sneered, stalking off as aemond was left behind to laugh.

your family had arrived to kings landing just moments after your first meeting with aemond. how the joy exploded into the air as you ran to hug your mother for the first time in years. she laughed as she hugged you, “my darling girl.” she cooed. your brothers followed suit, trapping you in suffocating hugs with their newfound strength.

rhaenyra had sat you down in her old chambers. the remnants of her own childhood were so strong that she had to move things around before she called for you.

now you were sitting across from her, a bit of a hardened smile on her face as she set her tea down.

“y/n. it is no coincidence that you have been asked to the red keep just as you turn of age.” you realized with a deep pit in your stomach that this is what your grandmother had been preparing you for.

rhaenyra noticed the anxiety in your face and raised her eyebrow, you shook your head, “i’m fine mother, just tell me who i’m engaged to.” you would accept the answer with graciousness, and learn to love the idea of being a wife and mother.

rhaenyra nodded, clasping her hands together, “aemond.”

the name was spoken into the room like a pindrop. silence met her words and your face lost all its composure.

“aemond?!” you stood up, rage running through your blood as you felt your face get hot, “you cannot be serious, mother.” but rhaenyra stayed silent, only sipping on her tea for a moment before she sighed, “it wasn’t an easy decision. we needed something to make peace between our families. and since you are my only daughter, and he is their only unwed son…” she trailed off, “you will be a good wife. you’ve already put him in his place once, make sure you don’t have to do it again.” she encouraged and as much as you didn’t want to make this a good thing, you couldn’t help but smile as she did.

you strolled along the balcony overlooking the gardens when aemond found you. he was sneering, like always, and this time he had a good reason.

“my sister must have told you? otherwise you wouldn’t have such a look of despair on your pretty little face.” he gawked and matched your walking pace.

you shrugged, “don’t act so happy to be sleeping next to me. i’ll cut your tiny little cock off with the same knife i used to gouge your eye.” you threatened, stopping your walk. you stared him down, but aemond swiftly moved to grab your throat, throwing you against the stone wall as his hand gripped tighter on your neck.

you gasped slightly for air as he sneered, “i’ll show you who’s cock is tiny-“ you heard the unbuckling of a belt and fear erupted in you. you used your strength to heavy a kick to his legs, feeling his grip loosen on you, you let yourself drop onto the floor.

aemond stepped back and you stood up, quickly maneuvering a dagger into your hand you held it up to his face, “don’t make me do it.” aemond could see there was no jest in your eyes, and watched as you stepped back, still pointing the dagger at him unnervingly.

days passed and you had avoided aemond easily. you had just kept yourself cooped up in your chambers, and only going to ride your dragon just before daybreak, the cool morning air being your refresher for a long day of sitting inside.

but you knew those days were coming to a close, you would be wed, and dangerously soon. you realized as the day approached that there was no way out of this, no real solution.

you waited patiently for him. you paced the hallway moments after bribing the guards, and you swallowed your pride, building up your courage as you walked into the princes chambers. as the doors opened, the scent of burning lavender filled the air, and you noticed a stack of books and weapons lazily set aside on a table, blankets and cloths sitting on the chair beside it.

this was aegons room? you had expected far less decency and more wine bottles and empty goblets. this was sophisticated, this was something you would’ve had back on driftmark.

you heard the slam of a book and you jumped slightly to find aemond, fixing his eyepatch over his eye as he looked at you. “and what brings you here?” his voice was filled with more curiosity than anger for intruding his room. he sat up, and you realized with surprise that he was shirtless, and wearing very thin breeches.

you shrugged, using a hand to dust the front of your prettiest dress, “i thought this was your brothers room.” aemond raised an eyebrow, “and what could you possibly need from my brother?” aegon was a complete joke to aemond, he held him with very little respect.

“he was going to fuck me senseless.” you dropped your plan so casually, that aemond had almost ignored it. he stood up from the bed, and looked at you with an intense stare, “what?” he whispered, and you pursed your lips, “i figured, if i fuck aegon, i’ll be unpure, damaged goods. would you still want me then?”

aemond laughed, “you think fucking my brother will stop me from marrying you?” his question made your plan sound so stupid, and you opened your mouth but your words faltered. aemond chuckled, “i suppose you think me as some fool. i knew of your plan, a wonder the maids had led you to wrong room, isn’t it?” he mocked you and he stepped forward.

you shook your head in frustration, “no. no, that’s not what she had said-“

aemond was now breathing you in, breathing in the forced arousal between your legs, the perspiration on your forehead from the confrontation, even the small hint of vanilla on your collarbones. he grabbed your breast with a hand, and kneaded it in his grasp. you gasped slightly, more at the grab than his hand twisting it around.

you didn’t pull back as he used his other hand to pull you impossibly close. “i just can’t let you go. as much as i want to, i-“ he didn’t continue as he let his lips trail over your face just ever so close.

you let your hand grip his shoulder as he dipped you slightly, “i gouged your eye out, i laughed at you as children, i’ve insulted you to the gods…” as aemond kissed your cheek, the words were now at a loss and you found yourself staring at him in surprise, “you should hate me.” you whispered.

aemond laughed, “i do. i hate everything about you.” he murmured. his breath was hot on your neck as he got closer, his tongue trailing just over your skin, you felt him kissing you slowly. you moaned at the contact and wriggled in his grasp bjt he refused to let you go.

you pulled at his hair and aemond hissed, pulling back, “i hate your plain expressions, i hate your perfect hair, your lips, the way your eyes are spaced apart, your frilly dresses and the way you walk.” he sneered, “but i cant..i cant not hate this.” he kissed you now, his lips meeting yours, you felt yourself finally give into the twisted feelings.

how could this feel so right after you shunned him so long ago?

you gripped his hair, pulling it for pleasure, aemond moaned, kissing you harder.

aemond’s hand found itself wrapping around to the back of your dress. he tugged on the lace knot and you felt the air hit your back, just as the dress fell to the ground. your silk undergown was all that was left, and aemond hoisted you into his arms, tossing you onto the bed.

you could barely react as aemond pounced on you, ready to devour you whole, he was smiling manically as he tore your legs apart.

you looked down to find his slender hands moving your gown up towards your stomach. his cock was able to be seen through the thin material of his breeches. with a lurch of your stomach you realized that aemond would truly be the first to have you. you, untouched, inexperienced, he would destroy you.

but nonetheless, your moans sang for him, and his cock was in your cunt without another minute wasted. you moaned richly, a laugh erupting from you as he moved, gaining the confidence wjth your moans, aemond fucked you, a steady pace was met with your growls of pleasure.

“fuck-“ you moaned, grabbing aemond’s arm that was by your side, you dug your fingernails into his porcelain skin. aemond hissed at the pain and continued on, watching as moments later you came undone, unable to hold yourself still as you shook from the pleasure.

as you finally stilled, aemond kicked you off the bed and onto the floor, he threw your dress at you and let himself fall onto the bed, his cock softening as his tucked it into his breeches, he glared at you, “speak of this all you want, you’re my wife now.” he threatened.

anger got the best of you and you reached out suddenly, grabbing his eyepatch you yanked it off his face and tossed it into the fire. aemond reached up to touch his eye socket and realized with surprise that your nails had scratched the surface of his face, small cuts oozed blood, and you were smiling at him, an eerie similarity to his own smile, even as you exited.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen angst #house of the dragon angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fic #aemond x you #hotd #hotd smut #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader

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aspoonofsugar · 10 months ago

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RWBY's Alyx In The Ever After

Here comes a meta on the Alice's inspiration of volume 9! The whole season is packed with allusions to Carrol's two works: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Alice Through The Looking Glass. I will try to focus on the references most important for our girls' journey and on how Alice's story is used to convey a central theme of the volume: growing up.

TWO WORLDS, ONE ALICE AND THE SAME STORY

Carrol wrote two books about Alice's adventures.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland tells the story of how Alice falls down the rabbit hole and discovers a magical world. Here are some highlights and key elements (skip them if you already know the story).

Alice sees a white rabbit who keeps repeating they are late. She follows them into a deep hole and arrives in a strange room. There she finds drinks and cakes, which make her big and small. She tries to use them to grow the right size to enter a beautiful garden full of red roses. Still, she messes up, starts crying and almost drawns in her own tears. She survives together with a mouse, a dodo and other animals. The mouse starts telling her a story, but gets offended and scared when Alice mentions her kitty Dinah.

Alice meets the White Rabbit, who confuses her for their housemaid. Alice goes to the White Rabbit's house, but drinks a potion and becomes a giant. She eats some tarts, shrinks and runs into a forest. There she meets a Caterpillar, who gives her a magical mushroom to manage her size. Now in control of how big and small she is, she keeps exploring the world. She interacts with a Duchess, her pig child and her Cheshire Cat. The Cat gives Alice directions to reach the March Hare's House.

Alice arrives at the Hare's house and meets the Hare, the Hatter and the Dormouse, while they are having tea. She joins the party and discusses with them until she gets fed up and leaves. By this point, she sees a small door in a tree, opens it and finally arrives in the garden of red roses. The garden is the Queen of Hearts’ Kindgom and Alice gets invited to play croquet. Alice does her best, but is annoyed by the Queen's cheating. After some other adventures, Alice is forced to take part in a theft trial. The whole thing is a farce and eventually Alice gets angry with the Queen and the other Wonderland people. She grows big, shouts they are all just a pack of cards and destroys the Queen's Castle. She wakes up and tells her sister about the dream.

Alice Through The Looking Glass is about Alice's journey in the Looking Glass dimension, where a chess game takes place. Here is a quick summary (again, skip it if you know the story):

Alice enters a mirror and finds herself in a magical world. First of all, she discovers some living chess pieces and tries to move them around. Then, she tries to read a short poem called the Jabberwocky, but she can't understand it. Finally, she goes outside and talks with the flowers of the garden. They tell her about a flower that wears a crown and Alice soon meets the Red Queen. They have a conversation and Alice discovers the world is a giant chessboard and accepts to play the game as the white pawn. Her objective is to cross the chessboard, so she can become queen (as per the rules of chess). She goes through a square by train. Then she suddenly finds herself in a forest where she forgets who she is. Once out, she meets Tweedledum and Tweedledee, who fight each other. They point Alice towards the Red King who is sleeping and dreaming the whole world.

Later on, Alice meets the White Queen and talks with her. Then she reaches a strange shop and has a boat trip together with a goat. She finds herself in the shop once again and moves towards an egg, which turns into Humpty Dumpty. They chat about the Jabberwocky and the meaning of words, but eventually Humpty Dumpty falls. All the White King's men arrive to try and put him back together, so Alice meets the King and his two messangers (who are the Hatter and the Hare). Together with them she looks at the Lion and the Unicorn's fight.

At this point, Alice is caught by the Red Knight, but the White Knight comes and saves her. The two of them travel together and the Knight sings the Aged aged man song. He helps Alice reach the final square, where she is crowned Queen. A banquet is organized to celebrate Queen Alice, but there is a commotion. Alice loses her temper and reproaches the Red Queen by shaking her. The Queen turns into a small black cat and Alice wakes up in her house with her two kitties. She is left wondering if she is the one who dreamt it all or if the Red King did.

The two worlds get often mixed up in adaptations and Alice's adventures are reduced to a single journey. This happens because the two books tell the same story. They metaphorically show Alice's growth.

In Wonderland, Alice's different sizes represent confusion over who she is, which is normal for children growing up. This insecurity is why Alice initially can't grow the right size to enter the garden. Still, she succeeds by the end and eventually grows big (grows up) in the climax.

In Through the Looking Glass, Alice starts as a pawn, goes through a journey and finally gets crowned queen. This motif conveys her inner growth.

In other words, Alice's story is a coming of age journey. She starts as a child and symbolically develops into a more mature version of herself.

The Girl Who Fell Through the World is the same. Alyx is a selfish kid, who becomes a different person by the end:

A door opened for Alyx at the Tree. Before she goes back home, the girl had a great many questions to ponder. After all the lessons she learned, and the friends she'd made and lost. Who had she become? Would she still be the same Alyx when she went back home? The leaves of the tree rustled, and on the wind, Alyx heard one more question… What… are you?

"What are you?" is the central question of Lewis's fairy tale. Let's try to better understand it by exploring the setting (the Ever After), the protagonist (Alyx) and their connections with Carrol's works.

THE EVER AFTER (THE WORLD)

The Ever After alludes to Wonderland / the Glass World. Here are some examples:

It's made up by acres, like the Glass World is made of squares

People shrink like in Wonderland

Time and space work funnily, like in the Glass World

It has talking animals, like Carrol's stories

It has several characters from Alice's books, like the Jabberwalker (Jabberwocky), the Curious Cat (Cheshire Cat), the Herbalist (Caterpillar), the Red Prince (Red Queen) and the looking glass insects

Its inhabitants use words in peculiar ways, just like the characters in Alice's worlds

It's a dimension full of nursery rhymes and sayings that become real things. For example, the Ever After takes the meaning of metereopatic and inverts it. Here, people's moods are not affected by the weather, but the weather gets influenced by emotions

The name "Ever After" itself comes from two sayings:

Happily Ever After is the ending of most fairy tales. It describes perfect happiness that lasts forever, which is an idea rooted in childhood

Hereafter references the life after death. It ties this dimension with death and grief and makes it a realm of the deads

So, the Ever After combines together the themes of childhood and death. The end result is a world built on the concept of ascension:

Curious Cat: When we break or wear out or simply finish what we were made to do, we’re called back. But Herb… his heart was too weak to listen, so I gave him a little bit of mine. Now that Herb’s properly returned, he’ll be fixed up nice, and made into the Herb he wanted to be when he was still “Herb”. Then he’ll come back and find his purpose. Could be the same as before, or maybe not. I know, I know, where you're from, things… die… but we’re just not like you at all. We… ascend. Herb will have a purpose again.

Afterans don't die, but ascend. They get to live "ever after". Just like in an imaginary world thought up by children. And in a sense, that's exactly what the Ever After is:

It is a proto-dimension, where the brothers play and experiment, as children do. The moment they introduce the Jabberwalker (death) things change, the balance is broken and the Brothers must grow up and find a new equilibrium. This is something that happens to everyone. Growing up means to deal with death and to accept it. It is the only way to embrace life fully. The Ever After is a place that helps the characters do exactly this, which makes it the Underworld of RWBY in three different ways:

It is the world under Remnant. The world that comes before. This is why the characters fall into it. It is a place linked to the past of the universe (the Brothers) and to the past of the characters (a childhood book).

It is the world of the deads, where the characters deal with loss by going through the five stages of grief. In this sense, their fall is a metaphorical death.

It is the world which exists under many piled up emotions. It is where people get in touch with their interiority by falling within themselves:

Inside A new me, I'm ready But who will I find?

So, childhood, death and interiority. These are the three ingredients of this setting. Let's see how they get mixed up in the story of the girl who fell through the world.

ALYX (THE PROTAGONIST)

Alyx alludes to two Carrol's characters, as her design implies:

She is modeled after Alice herself. She wears a blue dress and a bow like her Disney counterpart

She has several details linking her to the White Rabbit. For example, her bow resembles small rabbit ears and she has a gold rabbit-shaped brooch

This isn't surprising because Alice and the White Rabbit are written as foils in the original book. According to Carrol:

"And the White Rabbit, what of him? Was he framed on the "Alice" lines, or meant as a contrast? As a contrast, distinctly. For her 'youth', 'audacity', 'vigour', and 'swift directness of purpose' read 'elderly', 'timid', 'feeble' and 'nervously shilly-shallying', and you will get something of what I meant him to be."

RWBY takes this idea and combines Alice and the Rabbit in one character. The result is an ambiguous young girl:

Oscar: I thought the idea of falling through Remnant into a new world was exciting. I never understood why she was so sad when she finally made it back home. But now it makes more sense. She wasn't the same girl anymore.

Ozpin: I was recently reminded of an old fairy tale. A young girl flees the consequences of a choice, to a magical place. But, having never learned from her initial failure, she only succeeds in spreading it.

Yang: But she was kind of a mean person, right? She lied and cheated her way through most of the book. Weiss: She was trying to survive. The morals of those old stories are so simplistic.

Alyx is described as a lost child, a corward, a mean person and a survivalist. Everybody interprets her differently. This is true also for the two people who know her personally.

Jaune turns Alyx into a villain, who sacrifices her brother and lies to everybody:

Jaune: I think… Alyx traded him to the tree, in order to leave. And then she wrote him out of the story.

Lewis tones down Alyx's negative traits and makes her the heroine of his book:

Blacksmith: Yes. Only Lewis returned home. The Girl Who Fell Through the World is the story as he wished it happened.

A monster and a hero. Everybody makes Alyx black or white, while she is gray, like her small knife:

Weiss: What did Jinxy want from Alyx (for her knife)? Blake: Her saddest memory… and her happiest.

She is gray because she is a real person. Still, she gets reduced to a character. This duplicity is at the root of her two allusions:

-Alyx plays the White Rabbit (a character) in RWBY's story in volume 9. The girls try to re-live her journey, so that they can escape. As they make progress, though, they discover Alyx doesn't meet their expectations. They take detours and find their own path.

Similarly, Alice quickly loses interest in the White Rabbit, after she meets him. She switches goals mid-journey, from the White Rabbit's house to the garden of roses.

-Alyx is Alice (a person) in her own story, which gets turned into a fairy-tale by Lewis. The Girl Who Fell Through the World even comes from a line in Carrol's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland:

Presently she began again. `I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward!

So, Alyx is both an extra (a character) and a protagonist (a person). At the same time, she is the mix of Alice and the White Rabbit in another sense. On the one hand Alice is a young girl who grows up. On the other hand the White Rabbit is "always late". So, Alyx is a child, who matures, but does so too late:

NeoCat: Decided she wanted to fix everything that she had broken in the Ever After! Including poor Jaune! So Lewis went, and in the very last moment… Alyx didn’t…

She mistreats the Afterans throughout her journey and has a heel-realization only in the end. By then, though, the Curious Cat is already broken by her lie and kills her. Still, Alyx does grow up and makes a final choice, who defines what she is:

Blacksmith: When Alyx’s life ended, she chose to leave a part of herself behind. A wish to fix what she had broken.

She truly turns into the heroine Lewis portrays her as. Sure, Alyx never gets the chance to become an adult and to live a long life, but she still grows into herself.

In conclusion, Alyx's story ties together the themes of childhood and death, as it is both a fairy tale and a tragedy. Still, hers is only the first adventure set in RWBY's Wonderland. The second is the one of our protagonists'. How do they fare in this strange dimension?

THE SAME WORLD, NEW PROTAGONISTS AND A SEQUEL

Weiss: Great! So we’re not in the stupid story after all. We’re in its stupid sequel!

RWBY find themselves in Alyx's world and start a journey similar to hers. However, they soon realize they can't leave the Ever After by following into Alyx's footsteps. In other words, RWBY start by thinking they already possess the interpretative key to solve the Ever After:

Blake: In the story, Alyx fell from the sky and met with the Hunter Mice, got trapped in vines, fought a Jabberwalker, and got her knife stolen by… A talking raccoon. Yang: Yeah. And then she beat the Red King at a board game, met the Curious Cat, the Rusted Knight, and finally got out through… Blake: The tree

They follow the Girl Who Fell Through the World, but things go bad and it is only when they start living their own story that they are able to go back to Remnant.

This resembles Alice's adventures, which take place in games. The first book uses cards, while the second is inspired by chess. However, both stories end with Alice refusing the rules. She escapes both dreams by stopping to play. She destroys the card castle in Wonderland and ends the pompous party in Through The Looking Glass. Both books have Alice think with her own head, instead of following someone else's laws.

Alice's two endings tie with the books being an exploration and critique of Victorian society. The strange worlds the girl visits are society seen through the eyes of a child. The end result is a place full of madmen because adults' rules and laws make no sense to kids. Alice is asked to conform to a morality, which is pompous and superficial, but she chooses not to and grows in her own person.

RWBY focuses on the opposite idea. The protagonists aren't children lost in the confusing world of adults, but grown-ups, who find themselves in the universe of their childhood. As a result, they are asked to face their inner children, say goodbye to them, but without betraying their ideals and dreams. They must grow-up to be the heroes they dreamt of as kids. Still, in order to do so they must leave behind a childish vision of the world.

Finally, RWBY's adventure is framed as a sequel to Alyx's, just like Through The Looking Glass is a sequel to Wonderland.

The two Alice's stories are written as mirrors of each other:

Wonderland happens in Summer, while Through the Looking Glass is set in Winter

Wonderland makes use of Alice changing sizes to move the plot. Through the Looking Glass instead has the world act strangely around Alice, with time and space twisting

Wonderland is a game of cards, while Through the Looking Glass is a match of chess

Similarly, RWBY's journey mirrors Alyx's:

Alyx's story is one of broken things that ends in death

RWBY's story is one of healing that ends with a rebirth

In particular, Alyx, just like Alice, becomes friends with a cat, but hurts them and has them change for the worst:

Blacksmith: One act of dishonesty… caused an unfortunate change…

Ruby instead, differently from Alice, grows fond of a mouse and inspires them to become a hero:

Blacksmith: One small kindness in one small moment would be such a marvelous transformation.

A LITTLE SILVER LINING

Little alludes to:

Alice Liddle, the real life counterpart of Carrol's Alice

The Little of Little Red Riding Hood, which is fitting as Ruby carries the mouse in her hood

Stuart Little, a mouse, who is born in/gets adopted by a human family

The dormouse and the mouse of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Little alludes to Alice because Ruby herself plays Alice in volume 9. The small mouse simply highlights this role with their presence. As a matter of fact you can read Ruby and Little's foiling as an inversion of Alice and the White Rabbit's:

Alice is a brave and strong-willed child, while the White Rabbit is old and acts cowardly. Moreover, Alice starts her journey by following the rabbit.

Ruby is a teenager hero, who appears big and mature to small and child-like Little. As a result, the mouse leaves everything behind and follows Ruby around.

In other words, Little is Ruby's child-self and is characterized as our protagonist at the beginning of the series. This is why they are the Little of Ruby's Little Red Riding Hood. They embody the small child who sets up to explore the world and help others.

In particular, Little stays true to his Stuart Little movie-counterpart:

A Little always finds a silver lining

Jinxy: Bidding starts at… Enough hope to fill this jar!

Little becomes Ruby's silver lining, as they are the one giving our girl hope throughout her journey in the Ever After. In a sense, they symbolyze Ruby's wide-eyed idealism, which is what activates her silver eyes.

What about Little's Wonderland allusions?

Just like the Dormouse, they often fall asleep, whereas their first meeting with Ruby resembles Alice's interaction with the mouse:

Alice almost drawns in her own tears and survives together with the mouse, a dodo (Carrol's self-insert) and other animals. Alice chats with the mouse, but she upsets them after mentioning her cat Dinah.

Ruby starts crying and makes it rain. Then, she meets Little, helps them and cheers up. However, she gets startled when the mouse starts talking and she unwillingly scares them by mentioning Blake's cat ears. A dodo is also present at the scene.

Ruby and Little's meeting is also loosely similar to Alice's conversation with the live-flowers. There Alice is surprised the flowers can talk, asks them if they have seen other people and has trouble reaching her destination because she moves toward it, instead than in the opposite direction (as per looking-glass logic). Finally, the flowers mention the Red Queen.

Ruby is shocked Little talks, asks them about her friends and can't reach the tree because she lacks acceptance. Finally, the Hunter Mice foreshadow that cats should not be trusted:

Mouse Leader: You have our sincerest apologies! Please understand that our kind is a bit skeptical of cats… and snakes… and cats.

In general, Little and the Hunter Mice are reflections of Ruby and RWBY. Little is a child who dreams of becoming a Hunter, like Ruby. The Mice prey on big and scary monsters, like RWBY fight Grimms. So, these characters set up our heroines' journey through the Ever After. A challenge to redefine who they are and what being Huntresses means. Let's now focus on this adventure and on the strange creatures RWBY meet in their personal version of Wonderland.

THE RED PRINCE HAS A GREAT FALL

The Red Prince alludes to:

The Queen of Hearts, as he is pompous, a cheater and executes his soldiers

The Red Queen, as he meets RWBY at the beginning and challenges them to a game of chess

Humpty Dumpty, as he cracks like an egg, after realizing RWBY are humans

'They gave it me,' Humpty Dumpty continued thoughtfully as he crossed one knee over the other and clasped his hands round it, 'they gave it me — for an un-birthday present.' 'What is an un-birthday present?' 'A present given when it isn't your birthday, of course.'

Humpty Dumpty comes up with the idea of un-birthday and RWBY goes to the Red Prince's birthday party, which celebrates the King's rebirth as a Prince:

Curious Cat: Oh, it was all very sad. The Red King couldn’t cope when he lost to Alyx, a crying mess. Thankfully, he was called back and fixed up, and now he’s the Prince you met.

The Prince represents a psychological regression, an un-growth, which adds an ironic spin to his "royal birthday". Not only that, but Alyx is the one responsible for this transformation:

Blake: So, that’s why he cheats, when the Red King didn’t. But that still doesn’t explain why the Red Prince was so much meaner. Curious Cat: While the Prince may not remember Alyx’s deception after ascending, the heart very rarely forgets.

In Wonderland, the Queen of Hearts cheats in her game of croquet, while in the Ever After Alyx plays dirty to win. In other words:

The Red Prince behaves like the Queen of Hearts because he is imitating Alyx, the player who defeated him

The Red Prince (from king to prince) is the opposite of growth (from pawn to queen)

The Prince is a character who suffers a loss and isn't able to overcome it:

'Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall: Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the King's horses and all the King's men Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.'

None of his horses nor men are able to put the Red King in his place again, which is why he ascends and becomes a Prince. He chooses to run away from his failure and escapes into childhood.

RWBY find themselves in a similar situation:

Weiss: We hatched a crazy plan that put a whole kingdom at risk, and we don't even know if we saved the Relics from… Maybe… Jaune and Winter were able to get them out, despite… everything… despite us…

They suffered a great fall. Will they be able to put themselves back together again? This is the question the Prince embodies, which is why Ruby's match against him mirrors RWBY's journey up until volume 8:

Ruby leads an army of hopeless soldiers, but inspires them to fight

Everything seems to be going well and they conquer more and more space on the chessboard

Still, something unexpected happens and RWBY is targeted by both friends and foes

The girls manage to put up a wonderful fight... only to fall down the table

Isn't it similar to RWBY's experiences in Atlas, where they are let down by Ironwood, have their plan ruined and finally fall because of Cinder?

The Red Prince's game is a metaphor of RWBY's past, which is an inversion of Alice's initial game of chess:

In Through the Looking Glass, Alice sees the chessboard and the pieces she will later on cross and meet throughout her journey. She has an anticipation of the game she is about to play.

In the Ever After, Ruby re-lives her biggest defeat. She plays again a match she has already lost:

Ruby: I don't know how that went so...wrong.

She feels she let Atlas's people and her friends down, so Weiss, Blake and Yang almost die in a fall. Speaking of WBY, their shrinking means two things:

They are turned into pieces Ruby moves around because our leader feels she has to carry her team on her shoulders.

They become small because Weiss, Blake and Yang have all faced their smallest and weakest parts, so they could grow. Ruby instead doesn't change because she has been stagnating.

ADVICE FROM AN HERBALIST - GROWING UP

After the game with the Red Prince, RWBY's priority is to bring WBY to their original size. In their quest, the girls meet the Herbalist:

Who alludes to the Caterpillar:

"Who are you?” said the Caterpillar. “I—I hardly know, sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.” “What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain yourself!” “I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.” “I don’t see,” said the Caterpillar. “I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly,” Alice replied very politely, “for I can’t understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.” “It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar. “Well, perhaps you haven’t found it so yet,” said Alice; “but when you have to turn into a chrysalis—you will some day, you know—and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little queer, won’t you?” “Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar. “Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,” said Alice; “all I know is, it would feel very queer to me.” “You!” said the Caterpillar contemptuously. “Who are you?”

Alice meets the Caterpillar, while he is smoking a hookah atop a mushroom. The creature has a key conversation with the girl, as he teaches her how to control her transformations. As a matter of fact he advices Alice to eat the two different sides of the mushroom to turn big and small. In the Disney adaptation, he blows smoke in Alice's face multiple times and ends the scene by becoming a butterfly.

The Herbalist lives in a mushroom and uses the tree leaves to create smoke that forces people to confront "what they are" and "what they wanna become". At the end of his meeting with RWBY, he ascends and is later on reborn as a Butterfly.

Herb's role in the Ever After is to help others become their ideal selves, just like the Caterpillar helps Alice reach her ideal size. At their root, both characters deal with identity and change:

Herbalist: You are making this far more complicated than it needs to be. We all have our titles, our roles to play, but in order to help you become whatever it is you need to become, you should really have a better understanding of what you are now.

It is just that the Caterpillar does so physically, while Herb psychologically. To be more precise, RWBY divides what is united in Carrol's work. Alice's transformations symbolize her inner changes, so to control her size means she understands who she is better. In RWBY, instead:

The girls want to go back to their original size and to reach the tree physically. The Cat frames themselves as the one, who can lead them towards both goals. In fact, they help the girls make the Growgurt Parfait.

The girls need to mature psychologically and to reach acceptance. This is their path to Remnant and to the future. The Herbalist knows it and tries to help RWBY. However, RWBY's ignorance of the Ever After leads to a misunderstanding.

In any case, Herb manages to make the girls self-reflect. In particular, his mist forces them to face their past selves. WBY deal with who they were and show they are ready to bloom into their final selves. Ruby instead is frozen and can't accept who she is:

Past Ruby: So, are you a Huntress? Like the ones you read about in books? Ruby: I… I don’t know…

In order to find herself, she has to go through a deeper exploration and to accept her darkest emotions. This is why she gets invited to a certain tea party.

A MAD TEA PARTY - DEATH AND GRIEF

"In that direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round,lives a Hatter: and in that direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad."

Alice's Mad Tea Party involves three characters:

The Hatter

The March Hare

The Dormouse (the Mouse in the Disney movie)

The trio is stuck at forever five o' clock because the Hatter killed time, while singing. As punishment, Time traps him and his friends in an everending tea party. In the book, the Hatter and the Hare are both mad and try to put the sleepy Dormouse in a tea-pot. In the Disney adaptation, the trio is celebrating an unbirthday party, which ends with the Mouse reciting a poem and entering a tea-pot.

RWBY has three characters allude to the mad tea trio:

Illusion Roman alludes to the Hatter

Juniper alludes to the Hare

Little alludes to the Dormouse/Mouse

Moreover, each one of them resembles a dead character and accompanies the person who misses this character the most:

Roman is the product of Overactive Imagination and embodies Neo's feelings over her friend. He stays by Neo's side and speaks for her.

Juniper shares Pyrrha's golden color scheme and is called after Jaune's team when Pyrrha was alive. She is Jaune's partner in the Ever After.

Little has a personality similar to Penny's and is excited to be Ruby's friend. They attach themselves to Ruby and tag along in her journey.

So, Neo, Jaune and Ruby travel together with a magical creature who embodies a lost loved one. This fits the Ever After being RWBY's realm of the deads, a place for the characters to face grief. Not only that, but these three traveling companions link Neo, Jaune and Ruby themselves to the mad tea party. In other words, the characters' losses are driving them insane. Neo, Jaune and Ruby are mad out of pain. This is why their unhealthy copying mechanisms are highlighted in scenes involving tea.

Neo's mad tea party

Neo, as the Hatter lashes out at Ruby and organizes a tea-party to celebrate Red's un-birth:

Neo-Roman: You don’t deserve to die, Red. You deserve to be broken down… Torn apart… wiped from existence.

Jaune's not crazy breakfast

Jaune, as the Hare invites RWBY to his house, where he shows his own instability and hero complex:

Jaune: This isn’t crazy… I’m not crazy… This… isn’t crazy, it’s easy!

Ruby trapped in a tea-pot

Ruby, as the Dormouse, gives up a part of herself and seals it in a tea-pot. Or in this case, the Teapot Lady:

Ruby: Here! I’ll give you this! I-It carries a mother’s promise!

What is more, the last time Alice looks at the tea trio, she sees the Hatter and the Hare trying to put the Dormouse in a tea-pot:

Similarly, Ruby's interactions with Neo and Jaune push her to drink the tea-tree and to ascend. In a sense, Neo and Jaune shove Ruby into the tea, as if she were a sugar-cube:

In general, all three characters need to face their loved ones' loss. Only in this way, they can accept themselves and move on. In order for them to grow, they must struggle with death. That is their major conflict in the Ever After and what makes them the three main characters of the volume. Fittingly, they are all major foils of Alyx herself:

Neo plays the part of the villain, but deep down she is a girl, who can't express herself. Like Alyx, she acts selfishly and lets her negative emotions control her. However, by the end she chooses to truly face herself and change.

Jaune plays the part of the hero, but deep down he is a child lost in a magical world, just like Alyx. This is why he needs to reconcile with her to move on.

Ruby plays the part of Alyx, the broken little girl, who loses herself in the Ever After. Still, she is deep down a Huntress and just needs to find herself once again. Her actions heal, whereas Alyx's hurt.

The Alyx who runs away from her responsibilities in a magical world, the Alyx who is saved by a hero and the Alyx who grows up and learns a lesson. Neo, Jaune and Ruby play all these different versions of the Girl Who Fell Through the World. Moreover, they all have additional Carrol's allusions, which define their arcs in the Ever After.

NEO - THE JABBERWOCKY

Neo alludes to the Jabberwocky, which is a nonsense poem Alice finds in Through The Looking Glass. This poem:

Tells the story of a child slaying a monster

It is impossible to fully understand

Both things apply to Neo:

She kills the Jabberwalker, but assimilates them in her illusions. In other words, she is both the child who slays the monster and the monster itself.

She doesn't speak and has trouble communicating with others. Even when her illusions talk for her, she isn't understood:

Say something real Do you only speak in riddles, chatterbox? I'm waiting for your ugly mouth to Say something real Do you only speak in riddles, chatterbox? I'm waiting on your ugly mouth to spit it out

In other words...

The Jabberwalker represents death and dies unheard:

Jabberwalker: Stop… It… Cease! No! NO! NOOOOOO!

Neo is a villain whose grief stays unrecognized:

Ruby: If you’re looking for an apology, you’ve wasted your time! Not only by others, but by Neo too. She kills a part of herself in the Jabberwalker.

Not only by others, but by Neo too. She kills it in the form of the Jabberwalker. And yet, her grief keeps festering and comes to the surface through her semblance (the illusory Jabberwalkers). Neo's refusal of it leads to this feeling consuming her, until she gives up control on her body and life:

Curious Cat: You’ve lost something most important, haven’t you? And now you have nothing left. How delightful! An empty host, perfect for me to fill.

It is only by earnestly facing her own pain and vulnerability that Neo saves herself:

NeoCat: No! These cracks, these feelings! I can’t… I can’t!!!

And is ready to finally change:

So Neo plays a monster (the Jabberwocky/the Jabberwalker), but is deep down a lost child (Alice/Alyx). She is the most negative interpretation of Alyx, as she is selfish, runs from her responsibilities and hurts others. And yet, she is a person and can change if she is given the chance. She is the Alyx our protagonists need to empathize with:

Ruby: She’ll find herself, one way or another.

JAUNE - THE WHITE (KNIGHT) RABBIT

Jaune alludes to:

The White Knight in Alyx's story, as he is a knight, who travels with her and tries to help her

The White Rabbit in RWBY's story, as he tries to guide RWBY, but isn't reliable

The White Knight rescues Alice from the Red Knight and accompanies her to the last square, where the child gets crowned queen. He is described as an odd inventor, but he is one of the kindest people Alice meets. Before separating, he sings Alice a song whose name is The Aged Aged Man. Alice is said to remember this scene vividly in the future.

Jaune becomes an aged aged man in the Ever After and is described by Lewis as an ally to Alyx . As the Rusted Knight, he tries to help the girl and her brother and is remembered fondly by both siblings, despite Alyx's betrayal.

The White Rabbit is a nervous wreck, who is always late and has his home messed up by Alice, who grows big and gets struck in it. Similarly, Jaune is unstable when he reunites with RWBY and even quotes the White Rabbit's famous line:

Jaune: I’m late! I’m late!

Not only that, but RWBY's arrival in the Ever After cracks his heroic persona and he starts showing how hurt he really is:

Jaune: I’m sorry, I… I know I’m not okay. I- I’m not right, but… How am I supposed to be…? I’ve been alone… for SO… LONG! Here… On that bridge… I was the only one that could do it! I was the ONLY ONE!

Until he has his house indirectly destroyed because of Ruby (or so he lashes out):

Jaune: They’re gone… because of you! The Walkers came for you, because Neo. Hates. YOU!

In general, Jaune is late to ascend:

Blacksmith: I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Jaune: Well, I made it.

Which makes him similar to Alyx. This isn't by chance because Jaune and Alyx are tied. For example, the moment Jaune breathes the tree's smoke, he sees Alyx, instead of his past self. Why is that so? Two reasons:

Jaune frames himself as a hero (the White Knight), but is actually just like Alyx (the White Rabbit). He is a person lost in an unknown world, who takes time to mature.

Alyx is Jaune's inner child, the same way Little is Ruby's. Jaune enters the Ever After and meets a child, who accompanies him in his journey. However, he fails to protect this child and she dies (like Ruby sees Little killed by Neo). Still, just like Little comes back as Somewhat, Alyx too returns in an unexpected form:

Jaune: That’s Alyx’s knife. Wait, how did you have this?

And heals Jaune:

So, Jaune and Alyx share the White Rabbit allusion because symbolically Alyx represents a part of Jaune. She is his least idealized and most vulnerable side. She is the child, who is stubborn and cowardly. She is the damsel in distress Jaune tries to negate and control, which is why she rebels against him:

Jaune: She said she wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of her leaving. That she’d do whatever it takes. And then she was gone.

And yet, she is also the part of Jaune who grows and leads him toward a better self:

It is only through accepting Alyx in both her flaws and tragedy:

Jaune: Can you… answer a question for me? I need to know if it’s true what the Cat said that Lewis went back and… Alyx… Blacksmith: Yes. Only Lewis returned home.

That Jaune is able to move on. Just like it is only by letting go of the Paper Pleasers, that he gets to meet the Genial Gems. As a matter of fact the Paper Pleasers' transformation takes inspiration from another fairy-tale: The Three Little Pigs.

Three little pigs build houses to protect themselves from the Big Bad Wolves. The first pig builds a house of straws, which gets destroyed. The second makes a house of sticks, that fares better, but is ultimately blown away. The third one uses bricks and is able to defend himself from the wolf:

Yang: No flood or fire will ever hurt them again.

The Paper Pleasers are made of paper, which makes them vulnerable to fire and water. The big bad wolves come:

And the Paper Pleasers are destroyed, as a result. In the end, though, they are reborn as rocks, which means they are now stronger and more resilient.

Jaune goes through a similar process. He keeps himself together through the frail paper mask of a noble hero. By the end of the volume, though, he is ready to be reborn as a gem, with a stronger self-identity.

So, Jaune plays a hero (the Rused Knight / the White Knight), but is really a child who refuses to grow (Alyx / the White Rabbit). He is the Alyx that is slow to realize her shortcomings, but eventually fixes them. He is the Alyx who starts as a child, but grows into the heroine of her own story.

Alyx: Maybe it’s time for a change, to be the kind of man you always wanted to be.

RUBY - THE RED QUEEN

Ruby alludes to:

Alice, who explores two magical worlds in order to grow up

The Red Queen, who moves faster than other chess pieces

In Wonderland, Alice reaches the garden of red roses through a door in a tree. In Through The Looking Glass, Alice crosses the chessboard and is crowned queen. Similarly, Ruby travels through the acres and finally reaches the tree, which leads her home through a portal. What is interesting is that Alice's two destinations loosely use red rose symbolism:

A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily painting them red. (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter VIII)

There’s one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,’ said the Rose ‘but she’s more bushy than you are.’ ‘Is she like me?’ Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, ‘There’s another little girl in the garden, somewhere!’ ‘Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,’ the Rose said, ‘but she’s redder—and her petals are shorter, I think.’ ‘Does she ever come out here?’ ‘I daresay you’ll see her soon,’ said the Rose. ‘She’s one of the thorny kind.’ ‘Where does she wear the thorns?’ Alice asked with some curiosity. ‘Why all round her head, of course,’ the Rose replied. ‘She’s coming!’ Alice looked round eagerly, and found that it was the Red Queen. (Through The Looking Glass, Chapter II)

The Queen of Hearts' garden is full of red roses, while the Red Queen is described as a red flower with thorns. In short, Alice's final goal is either to find red roses (Wonderland) or to become one (Through the Looking Glass). Well, Ruby has to find who she is (a red rose) and to be reborn as a queen (queen Alice).

The Red Queen is characterized by her speed. In particular, in her scene with Alice, she states that:

‘A slow sort of country!’ said the Queen. ‘Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!’

Ruby is the same. Her semblance makes her fast, which ties to her being quick-witted and precocious. At the same time, Ruby's speed is a metaphor for her coping mechanism. She keeps pushing forward, so she doesn't have to face her emotions. This makes so she keeps on running, but can't advance or grow. This is why Ruby's development happens in a moment of quiet:

A moment of quiet is all it takes To reclaim a life and a promise made

She stops and has a moment with herself, where she faces her own repressed interiority. She confronts her losses and her ideals in the form of Summer Rose. Ruby's mother is her inspiration and who our little rose wants to resemble. Alice wants to become a Queen. Ruby wants to become a Huntress. And yet, Ruby is at the point, where she doubts she can fulfill her dream. She doesn't know if she can truly grow up. So, she is asked to make a choice.

She can either become a copy of Summer (the Red Queen):

Or she can stay in the Ever After forever, as Alyx (Alice):

Will she grow up by leaving her ideals behind or will she lose herself in childhood? Will she regress like the Red Prince? And what can she become if even Summer isn't perfect?

Ruby: Are you just trying to tell me that it’s useless? That I shouldn’t even try? Is that the big lesson I’m supposed to learn? Just… give up?

Ruby chooses to simply become herself:

Ruby: This one (Crescent Rose). What happens… if I choose me?

She is asked if she wants to become Alice in Wonderland or if she prefers to become the Hunter of Little Red Riding Hood. Her answer is to be Little Red Riding Hood, who is growing into her own Huntress:

I'll be who you were and I'll be even more

She isn't giving up on her dream of saving people. Still, she is the protagonist of her fairy-tale:

I am the reflection of who prevails I'm what inspired the fairytale

Alice's doubt at the end of Through The Looking Glass is if she is the dreamer, or if the Red King is. Ruby is instead unsure of who she is dreaming of:

I know it's you and I, when I look inside

Ruby dreams of Summer, both out of grief and as a hero. In volume 9, she starts dreaming of herself. She becomes her own dream:

Somewhat: You do feel… familiar. Like a happy dream I can’t remember.

She becomes her own hero:

(I can guide me, I can guide my way out)

So, Ruby plays the lost child (Alyx), but is strong enough to be a hero (a Huntress). To be precise, she is both. She is Little Red Riding Hood and the Hunter. She is the Alice, who chooses not to give up on her childhood purity, but to grow into an adult in her own way. Without cynism and with hope.

Somewhat: It will be alright, Huntress.

CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT

Neo, Jaune and Ruby all face death, look inside and grow. Someone else is instead unable to do so:

The Curious Cat alludes to the Cheshire Cat, who is depicted as:

Alice's ally in Carrol's Adventures in Wonderland. The Cat gives Alice directions and chats with her during the Queen's croquet game.

A jerkass in the Disney Adaptation. The Cat frames Alice for a prank to the Queen and gets the girl in big trouble.

RWBY takes both characterizations and shows how the Curious Cat goes from a helper to an enemy because of Alyx's betrayal:

Jaune: Alyx broke her promise to the Cat.

At the same time, the Cheshire Cat owes their name to the saying to grin like a Cheshire Cat. The Curious Cat is instead designed after the proverb curiosity kills the cat. Interestingly, the original form of the saying is care kills the cat, which mirrors the Curious Cat's original purpose:

Blacksmith: And so, using the skills and tools they have been given, they began to design their own creations… in utmost secrecy. The God of Darkness breathes purple fire at the fire. The God of Light picks up a wooden figurine of the Curious Cat and breathes black smoke, thus bringing the Cat to life. Blacksmith: Soon they realized their new creation could do their job for them. Finding the broken parts of the Ever After.

The Brothers make the Cat to care for the Afterans. Their role is to show empathy and help everyone reach the tree, so they can be fixed. In short, an existential pet therapy. However, the Brothers leave their creation and later on the Curious Cat meets Alyx. As a result, their care slowly turns into curiosity for the Brothers' new creations. Still, Alyx's lie quickly changes this neutral curiosity into jealousy:

Curious Cat: I’m not like the other Afterans here, I’m cursed with curiosity. I need to know everything! But more than anything, I need to know why my makers left me here…

The Cat has their heart broken, but there is no-one to care for them:

Blacksmith: A terrible thing to have a broken heart… And there’s nobody to send them back to the Tree for repair.

This makes the Curious Cat a foil to two characters:

Like Salem, they are outside the cycle of life and death. Or in this case the cycle of ascension. They need to go to the tree, so they can heal and be reborn. However, they can't, as they are designed as a mechanism of the cycle itself, rather than a participant.

Both Gods: So long as this world turns, you (Salem) shall walk its face.

NeoCat: Taking a page out of the caterpillar's book, hm? The leaves have no effect on me.

Like Ruby, they give up pieces of their hearts to others. Still, they grow tired and feel there is no-one, who would do the same for them.

Ruby: Why are you asking me? Because I’m the leader? Because I’m just supposed to have something to say? Cuz I don’t… I mean, why do I have to be the leader anyway? Why do I have to always be the one to pick people up? What about me? “No time”, right? “Gotta get home!” “Gotta help Jaune!” Gotta find someone who isn’t just going to screw everything up! “Gotta stay positive!” Right?!

Curious Cat: Mmmm, when we break or wear out or simply finish what we were made to do, we’re called back. But Herb… his heart was too weak to listen, so I gave him a little bit of mine.

Like our heroine, the Curious Cat is left hopeless and empty by a bad experience. Still, they refuse to face their pain. They never reach acceptance of themselves and others, so they spiral. In particular, they are a negative mirror of all the other Ever After characters:

Like the Prince, the Curious Cat is tricked by Alyx, which is why they hold a grudge against humans. Still, the Prince has some hope to change, while the Curious Cat can't.

Like Herb, the Curious Cat has grown tired of their role of guide. Still, Herb manages to ascend and be reborn as a butterfly. The Curious Cat instead dreams of escaping the magical world.

Like Jaune, the Curious Cat is hurt by Alyx's betrayal. Moreover, both Jaune and the Cat refuse to face themselves and ascend. Still, Jaune wishes to help others. The Curious Cat instead starts hurting them.

Like Neo, the Curious Cat targets Ruby and uses her as a scapegoat. Neo blames all her pain on Ruby and thinks that by killing her, she can feel better. The Curious Cat instead thinks Ruby is the perfect host for them to escape the Ever After. By the end, though, Neo gives up on her revenge. The Cat instead fails to understand humanity:

Curious Cat: You’re broken! You break everything you touch! I call Humans… weak! Confused! Incomplete!

The Curious Cat is then the villain of the volume because they share the other characters' conflict, but fail to solve it positively. Ruby looks inside (the tree), while the Curious Cat looks outside (Remnant). Ruby chooses to become herself. The Curious Cat wants to possess another. Ruby starts developing empathy towards others:

Ruby: But what will happen to Neo?

The Curious Cat instead uses their empathy to manipulate others:

Curious Cat: I gave him (the Hawker) something new to do for the moment. Now go! Your friends need to get big again, or we’re all Jabberwalker dinner!

Their obsession towards humans and Remnant leads to his defeat and demise by the Jabberwalkers' hands. So, curiosity kills the cat, indeed. Is that really the Curious Cat's end, though? The proverb curiosity killed the cat has sometimes the added part but satisfaction brought it back. The Curious Cat is dismembered by the Jabberwalkers' clones. Not by the original Jabberwalker. Does it mean the Curious Cat can't ascend anymore, or is there some hope for them?

The Blacksmith whittles a wooden figurine of the Hawker, previously killed by a Jabberwalker's clone, and places it with the other figurines of the Afterans.

The series leaves it ambiguous. Speaking of ambiguity...

WHAT IS THE BLACKSMITH?

What is the Blacksmith? She is known as:

The Blacksmith

The Tree

Ruby: I wasn’t expecting to be here. Are you the Tree? Blacksmith: You could say that. But that is a simplistic understanding of the Tree, and what it does.

The Lively Carpenter (possibly)

Weiss: Of all the characters from the book, why did it have to be the Cat? Why couldn’t we have gotten help from the Lively Carpenter or the Rusted Knight? One was sweet, one was handsome, and neither of them had the attention span of a goldfish!

She is hard to define and is a god-like entity. Symbolically, she serves as the Great Mother, as she is an avatar of the Tree, that gave birth to the Brothers. She guides Ruby and the other characters towards self-actualization and adulthood. At the same time, she explains the balance between life and death, creation and destruction:

Blacksmith: She will have the chance to return her broken heart… And becomes something new. Such is balance.

So, she is tied to both transformation (growth) and death (grief). These ideas are well expressed by her design. On the one hand she appears bigger than humans and is a blacksmith, who molds others. On the other hand she loosely resembles several dead characters:

In her first appearence and in the opening she appears made of golden metal, which makes her look similar to Pyrrha

Se is robotic, like Penny

Her hair resembles a detail of Alyx's outfit

This doesn't mean she is any of these characters, but simply that in a volume focused on dealing with loss, her appearance has missed people come to mind. So, she herself embodies this idea:

Blacksmith: Nothing. No one is ever truly lost.

The deads still exist in the heart of their loved ones and in the stories that are remembered and told.

ALYX'S EVIDENCE

Blacksmith: The Girl Who Fell Through the World is the story as he wished it happened.

The Girl Who Fell Through the World is a children classic written to deal with grief. It is a tragedy turned into a fairy tale, which is what RWBY must do with Remnant itself. It is what they have already done with their sequel to Alyx's story:

Blake: Do you guys think… we might have… made things even worse in the Ever After? Just like Alyx did? Ruby: I’m… not sure. I'd like to think we did at least a little good. Right?

Alyx herself offers some important teachings. Some evidence worth to consider:

Alice grows up by waking up from the fairy tale. Alyx instead grows up the moment she chooses to stay in the fairy tale and fix it.

Alyx is similar to two Maidens our characters have met in their journey.

1- RWBY frames growing up not as forgetting who you were as a child, but as becoming a person your child-self can be proud of. This is why Little becomes Somewhat:

They look similar to Ruby. At the same time they are still far from being complete:

Ruby: Do any of those sound close? Somewhat: Hmmm. Somewhat. Yeah. Somewhat. I’m not any one thing, I’m somewhat of a lot of things!

Otherside, Did you mean to make me half or whole? Will I ever be (complete)? When will I become all of me?

However, they are on the right path. Just like our protagonists.

2- Alyx is a girl all the characters misunderstand and objectify. In the end, though, she manages to affirm herself by leaving behind a part of herself. Doesn't she remind you of anyone?

Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.

Penny is a child, who gets controlled and manipulated and dies too soon. She still self-actualizes and affirms who she is with a final choice and legacy.

Alyx is a girl who is selfish and cruel, but finally opens her eyes and chooses to change. She dies, but manages to fix what she has broken and saves Jaune. Her story probably mirrors the outcome of Cinder's arc. Our Cinderella will have a heel realization and affirm who she is in a final act of selflessness.

In other words, Alyx's story is meant to be a bridge between Penny's tragic death (past) and Cinder's final sacrifice (future). It is used to help the characters overcome Penny and Atlas, so that they are ready to help Cinder and Vacuo:

Ruby: Where will this take us? Blacksmith: Not where, when you are needed most.

#rwby #rwby meta #rwby volume 9 #greenlight volume 10 #once upon an allusion meta #my meta #ruby rose #jaune arc #neopolitan #curious cat #red prince #herbalist #little #somewhat #the blacksmith

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