#p. dungeon tales

[h34vybottom]

Rondoline "Rody" E Effenberg

[gunpowder-tim]

im still mad abt the fact i got to like world 11 i think and did like all the side quests but then my phone fucked up and deleted like half my shit basically so i had to restart guardian tales so i jist didnt but now im playing it on the switch and i forgot how much i love this game

[lizzyiii]

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

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

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

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

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

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

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

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

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

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

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

“More, hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[kickbackkanzaki]

The Dungeon Master and Chess Queen

You're the new student and chess captain at Hawkins High. When Eddie Munson asks you for tutoring you're certain you have him handled but you may have underestimated his strategy.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Warnings: Smut (18+), drinking, oral (fem receiving), intercourse (p in v), swearing, possessive/toxic traits, rough sex.

"Is it just my imagination," one of your customers asked as you passed her a wrapped book. "Or do they seem to stop women from writing more than men?"

"It's not your imagination," Robin told her. "Men are terrified by women with original thought."

"Especially when they write better," Max added.

"Anyone who reads Margaret Atwood feels threatened," you pointed out as you slipped the money out of sight. "That woman can critique society better than any old Ivy League man while spinning an entertaining tale. The woman's powerful."

"I still want a copy of Ender's Game," your customer told you then began to leave.

It was lunchtime at Hawkins High and you were conducting trade while the cafeteria monitor kept an eye out for thrown food and fist fights.

"I'm waiting on my supplier I'll be in touch," you answered and someone else approached your table.

Someone who didn't read.

"Hey I heard you and Munson were getting it on in the back of your shitty Mustang after school yesterday," Georgia from the cheer team sneered when you noticed her.

You'd never done anything to antagonize Georgia but she figured you were easy pickings for a popular bully like her. A chess nerd with straight As dating the school freak - you didn't have a leg to stand on.

"That Mustang has done less miles than your pussy," you shot back. "The tyres aren't as bald either."

Robin and Max laughed into their lunch and you watched Georgia gawk with some satisfaction. You had learned young to always answer a taunt as it proved you weren't afraid of where it came from.

"You can't say that to me!" Georgia screeched and gained a few more onlookers from other tables.

"Go home and brush your teeth your breath smells of dick," you said now bored and a table of good looking boys erupted into laughter.

Georgia had neither the quick wit or intelligence to counter that so she fell back on a classic popular girl threat.

"My boyfriend is going to mess you up!"

"Your shitbag boyfriend is busy under the bleachers eating out Meredith from the soccer squad," you told her matter of factly and Georgia's eyes grew round with horror. "Come on, you didn't really think he was getting chem tutoring at lunch did you?"

Georgia called you a name you'd heard many times before then ran out the cafeteria as the boys hooted.

"Is that true?" Max asked feeling uncomfortable by the vivid depiction of sexual depravity.

"Apparently," you said with an indifferent shrug. "The soft cock was boasting about it to Eddie last week during a business deal."

"You upset the hierarchy when you burn the bullies like that," Robin said wisely as she ate her pretzels.

She loved the way you eviscerated low IQ miscreants but she did worry about possible reprisals. There was still most of a year to endure before the two of you were free of Hawkins High.

"A cheerleader uniform doesn't give you a bitch pass," you stated unconcerned. "If Georgia wants to discuss things further I'll have a go. Hierarchy be damned."

"Where did you learn to say all that stuff?" Max asked.

As much as Max liked her older friend she had to admit some of what you said was downright disgusting and doubted it came from the literature you read.

"I was at boarding school for ten years," you explained. "I know every derisive word for genitals, the A to Zs of STDs and all the things a creative girl can fashion into a phallus. I promise you, those pornos where the drifter arrives at a girl's school full of blushing virgins are total fiction."

"I'm glad we're co-ed," Robin said for the first time ever and balled up her empty pretzel bag.

"Me too. It's way easier to look smart with boys around," you agreed and made Max smile.

As if on cue your favourite boy suddenly appeared and sat down next to you.

"We got trouble baby," he said frantically taking your hands.

"Did you get busted?" you asked in a worried hush and shot the cafeteria monitor a cautious glance.

"Kinda," Eddie answered cryptically. "Wayne knows about us."

"As in your Uncle Wayne?" you asked allowing your voice to return to normal volume.

So long as neither of you were going to spend the night in lock up on distribution charges it was fine for your friends to hear Eddie's risible stories.

"Yeah. I don't know he found out! I was getting my sheets out the dryer and -"

"Oh."

All three females exclaimed at once in mutual understanding.

"Hang on what?" Eddie's panicked spiel derailed from confusion. "Why'd you all say 'Oh' like that?"

"That was the give away," Robin explained. "Boys don't launder their own sheets unless they have something to hide. They'll roll around in their crusty mess for months before their mothers wash them."

"It's different with girls?"

Eddie felt like he'd stumbled onto a gender based conspiracy and was getting schooled.

"Our monthly bloodbaths don't keep business hours," you said tastelessly. "Early morning linen washes aren't unusual for us."

That had never occurred to Eddie but he had to admit it made sense now why the puritan lady at the checkout had given him a filthy glare when he'd bought a new flat sheet and laundry detergent in the one transaction.

"Anyway what's the problem with your uncle knowing?" you asked as you finally got a chance to eat your sandwich. "I didn't get you pregnant did I?"

Your friends sniggered but Eddie let it slide. He knew they laughed amiably unlike the jocks who preyed on his club.

"He wants you to come around for dinner this week," Eddie grumbled and ran his hands through his tangled hair in frustration.

"Ok," you said after a bite of sandwich. "Tonight I'm watching a movie at Max's and tomorrow's chess club but I can come after tutoring Thursday? Or Friday? Whatever suits."

"Really? You'll come?" Eddie stopped tugging his hair and looked at you in disbelief.

He'd assumed this would upset you but you were completely unphased. With conventional couples meeting the parents was seen as a milestone, one that cemented your commitment and hinted at a possible combined future.

As you two were aberrant individuals Eddie had predicted you'd scatter at something proper like family dinner.

"Why not? I suppose it makes sense, we've been hanging out for a while now. My Dad knows about you," you said pragmatically as you finished the sandwich and broke your chocolate bar in half.

"How?" Eddie asked in alarm and halted his reach for the offered treat.

"I told him doofus," you said and laughed with your friends again.

"What did he say?"

"Not a lot," you replied with a shrug. "He made me a reading list of Romantic poets and now buys me condoms when he gets his script filled."

You then turned to your lunch mates and added, "If you ladies need any let me know, I now have enough rubbers to get me to menopause."

"Gross."

"I wouldn't want to slow you down."

You engaged both middle fingers so you could flip your friends off in unison then turned back to your boyfriend.

"Tell Wayne I'd be delighted," you said and kissed Eddie on the cheek. "Now return to your flock shepherd I have censored literature to sell."

That night Wayne called Eddie from work to check which night he had to swap shifts so he could cook for the two of you. Eddie told him Friday and when the night arrived he came outside to meet you at the Mustang.

Eddie looked you over appraisingly as you climbed out the driver's seat and wolf whistled. You'd worn one of your nicer dresses with a floral pattern and had gone easy on the eyeliner in case Wayne suspected you leaned into heavier pastimes.

"Someone's pretty," Eddie sang and took a tupperware from your hands.

"Hello shit-stirrer," you said affectionately with a smile and kissed him on the mouth.

You made it a good kiss because it was likely the only one you'd get tonight being on your best behaviour.

When you walked in the trailer you nearly commented on how tidy it was but stopped last minute. You didn't want to let slip just how often you hung out there.

All week Eddie has been telling you how much of a crusty old curmudgeon his uncle was but you actually found Wayne quite pleasant.

He shook your hand, complimented your dress and didn't use any of the condescending pet names blokes his age often gave young women.

You asked about his job, his football team and his car, three things that could get any straight white man talking.

Wayne thanked you for the cake and was only a little surprised to hear your dad had baked it. That scored points with you as he didn't use that detail to lead into the more interesting things he'd heard about your dad.

Wayne had prepared the only meal he knew how to cook - steak with a three vegetable salad.

You gave appropriate thanks and gratefully accepted the diet soda he bought especially for you even though it wasn't your preferred beverage.

Eddie sat next to you and brushed your thigh gently under the table, the first touch since you'd come inside.

Usually by now the two of you would be in a state of undress or cuddled up in Eddie's room decompressing after surviving another day of small town banality.

But tonight you were abiding by the rules of polite society so kept your hands to yourselves.

"Eddie tells me you like chess," Wayne began after you'd taken a few bites of dinner.

"Understatement," Eddie muttered and received a poke from you under the table.

"I do," you answered enthusiastically. "I brought my board in case you wanted to play."

"Eddie played for a while in elementary school but I've never gotten the hang of it" Wayne confessed and took a sip of beer. "Too many darn rules to remember."

"There's a lot to learn, you need patience."

This was generally what you said when people labelled chess as too difficult. It stopped them from thinking you were pretentious or the game elitist.

"So I take it your mother's passed on?"

The sudden intrusiveness of the question after such a casual one made both you and Eddie stop chewing.

Not one person had broached that subject since you'd moved to Hawkins. The classic nuclear family was dying out so people usually accepted your single parent situation as it was.

"She was alive the last anyone heard," was the politest way you could put it after mulling the question over for a minute.

Eddie shot Wayne a warning look and the subject changed.

"So was it your father who taught you chess?" Wayne wisely returned to a safe topic.

"No, we had a heap of board games in the rec room at school and I was curious about the chess sets," you told him conversationally. "I signed up for a weekly chess club to learn the rules and it grew from there."

People always assumed there was a mysterious, romantic history to your passion but it had honestly begun the same as any other hobby. You'd found something you liked and applied yourself to get better at it.

The rest of the meal went smoothly with casual conversation and Eddie stole the light a few times so you wouldn't feel hot under Wayne's scrutiny.

After dinner you served the Black Forrest Cake then Wayne left the two of you to play chess at the table while he caught the end of a match on TV.

You moved a knight into place and seeing his defeat Eddie let his head fall on the table theatrically.

"That is mate," you said and smiled at his pitiful wails of defeat.

"I thought I was doing well," Eddie whined.

"You were! You made me chase you for a while there," you gave some constructive feedback to comfort him and leant back in your chair.

Eddie hated to lose but he would have hated you throwing the game more. Maybe it was time for you to sit in on a campaign and see the Dungeon Master in his element since you'd spent over an hour thrashing him.

"Let's me express my inner torment with music," Eddie said standing up with a defeatist sigh. "My room awaits."

"Might want to think of heading home," Wayne chipped in from the couch and turned the TV down.

"It's Friday night," Eddie protested.

"Don't want your dad worrying," Wayne went on as if he hadn't heard his nephew. "You two can catch up tomorrow."

"You're probably right," you conceded way too easily and Eddie's suspicion was aroused. "Thank you for dinner Mr Munson I had a lovely time."

You exchanged a few more pleasantries and had Eddie walk you to the Mustang where you shared the plan. He watched you drive out the park then went inside where Wayne had returned to his viewing.

Eddie subtly swiped a beer from the fridge then said something about listening to music before closing his bedroom door. Beer can now in his vest he threw on an Iron Maiden tape and jumped out the window.

The evening was a little chill but he would warm up once he got to his destination and the beer was inside him.

Creeping past the trailers of Friday night homebodies like a Hawkins version of Boo Radley Eddie heard snippets of televisions, stereos and domestic arguments as he hiked up the hill behind the park to the old playground.

The Mustang's headlights flashed when he was close and he heard you close the driver's door. You retrieved the lantern you keep in the boot for night time breakdowns and switched it on giving Eddie a guide to you.

"Uggh! I feel so wholesome and middle class!" Eddie yelled and threw his arms around you.

"You did well," you laughed as he lifted and spun you around. "Keep this up and you can take me to the prom."

"Can we park at Lover's Lake after?" he asked after planting a kiss on your mouth.

"Before and after," you said temptingly and pulled the beer out his pocket.

"That's my bad girl!" he cried and slapped your arse as you walked to the picnic area together.

You sat yourself up on the table while Eddie took the bench, seating himself between your feet so he could rest his head on your lap.

"What the hell was this evening about?" Eddie moaned as you stroked his hair and took a swing of beer.

You passed him the can and explained everything in your most patient voice.

"Your sweet uncle, who loves you, was just making sure you hadn't been ensnared by a harpy with wide legs and deep claws. He was worried I might be setting my sights on trapping you in early fatherhood and criminal enterprise."

"He thinks I'm that stupid?" Eddie made an injured face after a swing of beer.

"He knows you're young," you assured him. "Let the old man fuss, it means he cares."

"Well if it matters to you I think you passed darlin'," Eddie decided you were right and took another mouthful of beer.

"It'll make things easier going forward," you conceded.

Ever the gentleman Eddie let you finish the beer and returned his head to you lap where you stroked his wild locks.

Eddie enjoyed the attention for a few minutes then raised the hem of your dress and pressed his lips against the inside of your leg.

"What?" he asked when you didn't react.

It was hard to see your expression in the lamplight but your lack of response meant something was wrong.

"I need to tell you something."

"Oh no, no, no, no sentence starting with that ends well," Eddie now sat up straight and clutched at your dress. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" you said quickly realising your blunder. "I just need you to know something but I didn't want to tell you before because it might scare you off. It's a little heavy."

"Are you in trouble baby?"

The genuine concern in Eddie's voice made your heart swell and you wanted to pull him close. He was sweeter than you deserved.

"Nothing like that it's just something Wayne asked that got me thinking."

"If he's upset you I'll go back and tell him."

"It's ok Eddie. It's about my mum."

"She left, it's ok," Eddie was quick to reassure you and hugged your knees. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want, I understand."

"No, well yes, she did leave I mean," you rambled because you might reconsider if you hesitated. "When I was five Dad was sectioned for the first time. Pretty soon after Mum decided single parenting wasn't for her so got herself a divorce and surrendered custody of me to a girls' home. I haven't seen her since."

Eddie didn't reply and his stiff form in the darkness gained a forebodingness like a nightmare figure. It was unlike him not to react animatedly to shocking news and his stillness unnerved you.

You could hear the crickets chirping in the grass and spoke again to break the unsettling quiet.

"I say it was a boarding school because it sounds less tragic. I don't miss her, she made her choice. It's not important but I wanted you to know so you don't think I've been dishonest."

Eddie released his grip around your legs and you went cold with dread. He had reached his limit with your mess and was walking away.

Suddenly warmth came back to your skin as Eddie put his hands on you cheeks and gave you a long, slow kiss.

"This changes nothing baby," he only pulled away far enough to talk. "I'm always gonna adore you. My mother hasn't seen me in six years and not called in three. I say to hell with both of them."

You groped in the dark until you found Eddie's shoulders and latched onto him like a lifeline. For a few terrifying seconds you had been adrift and helpless in the dark without his stalwart support.

It took some time holding him before you could talk again, now certain he wouldn't leave.

"I don't mean to trauma dump on you I just want there to be more between us than witty repartee and sex."

"There is darling. So much more."

You released Eddie slowly and exhaled the anxiety you'd been holding in your chest. A steak dinner with family had turned out to be far more emotional than you'd anticipated.

Eddie slipped his hands under you knees then tugged so hard you fell backwards. The cute ballet flats you'd been wearing flew off as your little feet kicked the air and your eyes were suddenly full of stars dotting the night sky.

"What are you doing?" you giggled as Eddie's hot breath tickled you under your dress.

He looked like a kid stuck in a sleeping bag as he moved around under your dress and you laughed at your own compromising position. Flat on your back with a boy between your legs.

Eddie worked his fingers under your panty line and shimmied them down your hips. You made a noise of surprise but allowed Eddie to move your legs until the garment was stripped and thrown over his shoulder.

"Hey," you said with mild annoyance to see your good underwear discarded but forgot it a second later.

His strong, warm tongue licking your vaginal opening roused a sensation in you so strong your body arched with a gasp.

Good authority had told you this wasn't something straight guys would do willingly so you struggled to comprehend what was happening.

You had assumed the practice would be sloppy and vulgar but Eddie used his mouth with as much delicacy as he did with his hands. His lips on your opening had the pressure of an intimate kiss and his tongue stroked your inner folds with a velvet touch.

Your fingers fluttered to your lips like a scandalised damsel and you stared at the sky with your mouth open in silent excitement.

The unique caress thrilled you in a new way and your brain didn't know the right response.

So you lay there helpless in your pleasure.

The tip of Eddie's tongue brushed something deep that elicited a meek "Oh" from your open lips and he took the encouragement. You were such a wet mix of fluids that his mouth glid across your vagina effortlessly and he took your bud in his mouth.

The nerves in your clitoris awoke like thunder in a gathering storm and your voice returned to express your assent. Eddie ran his hands tenderly over your thighs and backside to stimulate your cooling skin and titillated your bud with the tip of his tongue gently.

It the time you two had been intimate Eddie had learned to discount everything he'd heard third hand about sex and listen to you instead. You weren't shy to express your enjoyment and your reactions were the best guide to achieving mutual pleasure.

You were breathing in short, sharp gasps of sweet shock but Eddie knew the sound you made when you were close. He let his mouth melt deeper onto you and began to suck your bud hungrily.

The shift in technique threw you into fourth gear and you could feel your body rushing to climax. Usually your orgasms built slowly, the reward for patient penetrative lovemaking but this time it erupted like a flare igniting your lower body.

You gave a groan of relief like you'd been holding back a dam and felt the orgasmic energy spill from your waist to water your thirsty body.

Feebly you tried to reach for Eddie as you pinned for his touch but he still had you tilted so your grasp fell short. Eddie then pulled himself out of your dress and wiped his mouth ungraciously on the back of his hand to watch you recover.

In the dark you couldn't see his flushed face or his genuine surprise at his success. There was more guesswork in sex than he'd ever realised.

He could see your middle rising and falling as your ecstasy rush settled and he lowered your legs back onto the table. His fingers stayed firmly round your ankles however as he struggled internally with his good reason and his libido.

You could hear the question he wouldn't voice and had the same sense of incompleteness. Eddie's attentions had given you splendour but they'd also prepared you for more and your lower muscles ached for it.

"Do it Eddie I'm soaked for you."

Without hesitance Eddie pulled a condom from his back pocket and you heard his fly open. There was a small crinkling sound then you were roughly pulled towards him by your legs.

You could imagine his rock hard cock straining against the latex and your chest expanded with an excited inhale.

His length slipped into you easily and you let out a satisfied moan. The sensual orgasm had been bliss but the base physicality of being filled with his thick cock made you horny in a primal way.

Most times you made love but sometimes like now you simply fucked. After hours of upstanding behaviour you had to wash the genteel polish off with a bath of sweat and cum.

You surrendered totally letting Eddie manhandle your legs as he slammed into you. There would be bruises on your thighs tomorrow but right now the pain didn't register.

In the lamplight Eddie could see your breasts bounce with every pound and he longed to climb up on the table and rip your dress open. He could imagine the tight mounds breaking into gooseflesh from the evening air and how the tiny bumps would melt under his hot tongue.

But there was no time to ravish the rest of you, he was close to coming and this position was too perfect to compromise. Your cunt was practically a river soaking his groin and every time you arched your abdomen it would tighten on his cock pulling him closer to release.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Eddie grunted in time with his thrusts but your only reply were the shy gasps that escaped each time his tip hit your core.

He wanted to fuck everything out of you until only he was left. Obliterate the sweet facade you'd worn at dinner and the lonely girl abandoned by her mother. Fuck you until you were so full of him no one could claim a piece of you.

It was raw, possessive and toxic but Eddie didn't care. You were his and he's was branding you for the world to know it.

"Eddie!"

You hadn't expected a second orgasm. Honestly you didn't think they could happen, that it was something magazines had made up to entertain rarely serviced housewives.

You screamed this time, the extreme sensation on your already ravished body was too much and you couldn't stay quiet.

Your body spasmed and Eddie released his own orgasm with a growl. He pitched forward and clenched your hips with a bruising force as hot pleasure rushed through his cock and pooled in the sheath.

The two of you panted out of time in a collapsed bundle and began to notice how far the temperature had dropped.

Suddenly self conscious you looked around to see the park lights glowing down the hill and listened for anyone approaching. Someone out for a stroll or a sneaky cigarette might think to investigate the animalistic cries coming from the playground.

"You're a bad girl," Eddie groaned exhaustedly when his breathing steadied.

"Me?" you lifted your head off the picnic table and felt Eddie slowly move out of you. "You started this Munson."

"You invited me up here," Eddie rebutted and you heard a synthetic flicking sound in the dark.

You knew Eddie had shot the tied condom across the picnic area and you had an unpleasant image of a small child finding it tomorrow along with your underwear.

"I wanted to talk," you said in your defense and sat up.

"This is how all our evening talks finish."

"Unless you pass out watching Miami Vice."

"One time baby."

"Come up here and hug me," you held your arms out and decided to quit the banter. You were cold now and you wanted your boyfriend to wrap you up for a little while before you drove home.

Eddie gave no argument and climbed on the table beside you. You were still buzzing from your double high and snuggled in tight smelling his sweat and deodorant.

"That was a good fuck Eddie."

It wasn't what the poets would have said but it was true.

Eddie kissed you on the head and tried to pat your loose hair back into a respectable form before admitting that was impossible.

"I like making you happy baby," he said and linked his fingers with yours.

You stayed nestled together on the bench watching the trailer lights below and Eddie realised for the first time how small they looked.

He'd outgrown this suburb of budget building materials and knew now he could leave it. Since he'd met you his scope had widened to see past Senior year and Tuesday night gigs at the Hideout.

There wouldn't be much to pack besides his guitar and he didn't have a destination in mind but one thing was certain.

You were coming with him.

[possumcollege]

Buch Femme p.3 is now up on Webtoons

[fanaticsnail]

This is something I thought of but it suits the men you like more than it does mine

Imagine an au or smth in which your fave plays the cello

Now imagine y/n oc sitting on his lap, he's choking them while using a toy on them and in that position it's almost like he's playing y/n like they're a cello

I think you could do this prompt justice better than I ever could so I hope you enjoy it ✨️

Cellist Kid

Okay, but hear me out. Cellist Kid.

Cellist. Kid.

Thoughts below the cut.

Synopsis: your academic rival and you do not get along. You find his boorish intensity revolting, and he finds your attitude standoffish. As your conductor decides to pair you together to practice, tempers flare and passion ignites.

Themes: afab!reader x Kid, cellist!kid x flautist!reader, choking, Kid has both hands, kissing swearing, college AU, NSFW, 18+, smut, P in V sex, drabble length, creampie, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, hate sex.

College AU with Eustass Kid wanting to practice playing electric bass, but instead joins an orchestral ensemble at his college for extra credit. They don't play metal, punk, or rock: but he absolutely has a soft spot for movie soundtracks that use heavy bass: game of thrones, lord of the rings, Narnia, all of the songs of his childhood.

He decides the closest thing to a bass is a cello. It takes him a while to understand how to use a bow, but he picks it up in no time. He enjoys this time he spends playing music, it's a way he gets to unwind and hone in on his musicality.

The only hiccup in this perfect symphony is you. Not your playing, but your attitude. You loathe him, and he despises you.

You're a flautist who often gets the lead line for the pieces because you're extremely talented and dedicated to your craft. You hang shit on Kid for joining a failing Warhammer painting group with his best friend, MSK - and he taunts you just as much for joining a Dungeons & Dragons group being ran by a DM named Usopp, an English literature major who enjoys spinning roleplaying tales.

But the more you play music together, the more the conductor of the band decides to place you two together in a more permanent way. You're perfect for each other, in your conductors opinion. The deep rattle of the bass clef played by Kid harmonises perfectly with the treble you produce with your fluttery breath and nimble fingers.

You've been aggressively quippy with each other for a few months now, the rest of the orchestra rolling their eyes every time you have a fued in front of them. Your conductor decides to place the two of you together to sort it out between you.

Now that you're in an empty classroom together, all lecturers gone for the night, the tension draws thick between you. Your snarl draws his heckles up, his growl causes your skin to ignite with disdain at him.

"What the hell is your problem with me, cellist?" You finally curse at him, acknowledging his presence for the first time in twenty minutes. He halts tuning his pegs and places his broad bow in the case at his feet.

"Could say the same for you, flooty," he spat back, his nose scrunching at you while reaching for his amber rosin.

"I hate you," you snarl at him.

"I hate you," he barked at you in response.

"I hate you first," your body moved against its will, placing your flute carefully within the hard case beside you and stomped towards him.

"I hate you second," he growls in return, the gruff grumble igniting flames in his chest as he casts aside his borrowed cello in its stand.

"What does that even matter?" you question him, cocking your head to the side and furrowing your brows, "I could wring your neck and scream at you for how much I despise you!"

"Would be a better sound than your fucking playing, that's for sure!" he draws himself closer to you, his much taller frame towering over yours.

You see red, reaching up and circling his neck with your hands. You use all your might to shove him down onto the chair he was formerly sat atop and accidentally fall on top of him. Your thighs frame his, your crotch perfectly in line with his.

This small stumble causes you to falter in your fury. Shock writes itself over your face as you notice a soft blush dust the cheeks of your academic rival beneath you. From this new position, you notice the warm hue in his hazel eyes: the tint almost rust-coloured in the pale lighting.

You both glance down to the join of your bodies in synchrony before glancing back up at each other's shocked faces.

It all happens in an instant: clothes cast aside and discarded on the floor, lips gnashing, biting and marking each other beneath your rough oscillations. You're in his lap, facing away from him with his girthy cock plunging deep within your slick cunt with a brutal rapidity.

His left hand circles your throat, causing your head to lull against his left shoulder. His right hand is plunged deep between your legs and pinches, circles and grinds against your clit as he thrusts his cock deep within you.

As his right digits begin tapping your clit in rhythmic patterns, the fingers of his left hand tighten and loosen against your flesh. The stampeding ecstacy draws ever nearer, both of your voices picking up in the corners as his knob bullies and batters your cervix with deep thrusts.

As your abdomen begins to tighten it's woven band of ecstacy, Kid's huffed breath pants out with more intentional rapidity. His thighs shudder beneath you, his body giving into the carnal urge to fuck the attitude and sass out of you with each cruel thrust.

His left hand breaks away from your neck circling in front of your chest and anchoring his body against yours to chase his climax within you. His momentum staggers as you felt his cock twitch within your plush walls.

"I-I-..." Kid stutters through his warning, mewling your name in a panted whine, "...-I'm gonna-... fuck. You feel so fucking good. I'm gon-... -I'm c-cumming."

As he whines through his panted confession, your body immediately was ushered into your bliss alongside his own. Lights danced behind your eyes as your body betrayed your hatred for him and transported your senses to become overwhelmed with bliss.

You cried his name, head lying fully back and at his mercy as he continued to bully his thick cock deep within you. Ribbons of hot, sticky cum shot deep within you, the rippling backsplash causing the translucent fluid to leak from your entrance and pool down your spread legs and onto his thighs.

As you rode through your mutual bliss, Kid offers you an apology for his prior insults.

"I-... -I don't think you're a shit flute-player," he admits, his forehead meeting with the back of your neck, "I actually think you're quite talented."

"You are too," you confess, nuzzling the back of your head against his, "But you're still an asshole."

Notes: I'm not sure if cellist Kid is a vibe or not, but it was my initial thoughts. A little bit of enemies to lovers never hurt. I could also see Law as a cellist, but Kid was screaming at me. I have had a drink, and this was done in about 20 minutes. Apologies for grammar mistakes!

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff

[teecupangel]

In a hidden cove along the coast, a mermaid and a talking bird had a standing appointment every Tuesday at dawn. The mermaid, with her shimmering tail and flowing hair, would await the arrival of the bird, perched high on a jagged rock. The bird, with feathers that glistened like sunlight on water, was special—not only could he talk, but he could also read the human language, a skill the mermaid lacked.

Each week, the bird brought a new story. Perching close to the mermaid, he would read aloud, his voice filling the air with tales of distant lands, brave heroes, and magical adventures. The mermaid listened intently, her wide eyes reflecting the wonders of the human world she could not directly access.

One particular morning, the mermaid arrived with a spark of excitement in her eyes. As the bird settled on his rock, she began to speak in her musical, lilting voice. She shared an idea for a story that had blossomed in her mind, a tale of wonder and adventure.

The bird listened carefully, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. When the mermaid finished, he promised to take her story to the ferret who writes. The ferret, known for his nimble paws and keen mind, lived in a cozy burrow near the edge of the forest. He was the best scribe among the animals, capable of turning any tale into a beautifully written manuscript.

The bird flew to the forest and found the ferret at his desk, surrounded by piles of paper and ink. He relayed the mermaid’s story, and the ferret eagerly began to write, his paws moving swiftly across the parchment. By evening, the story was complete, and the bird took the freshly written pages and soared into the sky.

His next destination was the pegasus, who lived on a high plateau where the clouds touched the earth. The pegasus was known for her speed and grace, able to fly across vast distances in a single day. She greeted the bird with a nod, and he handed her the manuscript. Understanding the importance of her task, the pegasus took off, her wings beating powerfully as she ascended into the heavens.

For days, the pegasus flew tirelessly over mountains, valleys, and rivers, until she reached a distant land where the story was meant to be shared. She delivered the manuscript to a wise owl who resided in a grand library. The owl, with his knowledge and connections, ensured the story reached many eyes and ears, spreading the mermaid’s tale far and wide.

In the letter it says: "Came across this anime where a guy turned into a vending machine and Desmond turning into that would be really helpful just by giving medicine and other supplies.

P. S Not sure if I asked this before."

You sent this last month and I finally

The anime in question is Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon

The first season is only 12 episode long so if you’d like a unique take on the protagonist getting isekai’ed.

It will definitely be OP because Desmond could turn into any kind of vending machine and there’s a lot of variety that he can play with.

We can even give him a helping hand and make him be able to change to any vending machine made even after 2012 so he has more option.

But he has to unlock them, of course.

In this one, he’s gonna be placed in Jerusalem’s bureau first because no one is strong enough to carry him around all the time and it will be a team effort.

He’ll appear in the bureau a day before Malik arrives as the new Rafiq and he’d ask the novices what this strange box is.

Due to the mission’s failed attempt, all of the people in the bureau are new and no one knows what it is. Someone suggested it must be something the last Rafiq had and they just let it be because it wasn’t doing anything strange.

Then it started talking to them but it’s all stock phrases like “Hello there!” “Too bad” and “Please insert coin.”

Malik ordered that no one touches it and he starts trying to figure it out.

Then Altaïr appeared and Malik is too annoyed (and sleep deprived) to be in Altaïr’s presence.

And he forgot to tell Altaïr to not touch the strange box that has been lighting up and trying to catch their (it’s really Altaïr’s) attention.

Altaïr, being the smart person with idiotic ideas at times, does give it coin and gets yuzu hot tea.

By the time Malik returned, Altaïr had tried out everything and has found out:

(1) the device can change its inventory AND form

(2) the device can understand them but can only reply with stock phrases (they already had a phrase for “yes” and “no” in place)

(3) the device’s name is Desmond

“How do you know its name is Desmond?”

“His” Altaïr corrected before shrugging as he answered, “It feels right.”

====================================

“Uuuhhh… this one is addressed to the grand library but there’s no name on who it’s supposed to be for?” The courier asked as he looked over the large stacks between him and the alchemist who looked busy doing who knows with the cauldron.

“I don’t know who to address it to.” The alchemist answered before waving a hand absentmindedly, “The grand library will take care of it. They’re used to me anyway.”

He wasn’t sure about that but he wasn’t going to argue with someone close to a large amount of hot liquid.

“Alright then.” He placed the small… keychain?

He wasn’t exactly sure what this rectangular shaped thing was supposed to be.

But he’ll make sure it gets to the grand library at the very least.

“See you tomorrow then?”

“Yup!”

The courier left the atelier that smelled like… steak?

[chocochipbiscuit]

I was tagged by @themorikelife, thank you for thinking of me!

Last Song: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina

Last Book: Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked by Catherine Orenstein, which is about the way the titular fairy tale has evolved over time to reflect societal and cultural changes, including its role as morality tale/warning and its sexual themes! I found it very interesting, and reminds me of fanfic in a lot of ways; essentially the ways that the source material (or different version of the source material) can inspire other creative work that reinterpret the canon.

Last Movie: Glass Onion, with my sister! I don't watch a lot of movies, but I was visiting my sister and she mentioned it was very good, so we had a quiet movie night at her place and screamed at each other lots. :D

Last Game: Quordle! Though my last video game was Resident Evil Zero. (Ah, campy tropy delicious survival horror.)

Last TV Show: ....I also don't watch a lot of TV. I guess Dungeon Meshi? Does that count????

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet! I have a major sweet tooth and admit it! Though I prefer chocolate, fruit, etc more than hard candies or gummies.

Relationship: Happily single!

Favorite Color: Vivid pinks and purples. (Though truly, I have many favorites! I also love red. And black. Things that are bright and bold or give contrast!)

Last Internet Search: "bubble gum bitch marina" (you can see why it was my last song :P)

Tag time!!!! I tag @anneapocalypse, @ialpiriel, @meishuu, @aqueenvictorious, @imakemywings and @averytinybear to play if you are so inclined!

[louiesselfshipramblings]

Secret Level mini-review!!! Because!!!

Not gonna go over EVERY episodes, just the ones I wanted to see.

Dungeons & Dragons: The Queen's Cradle—This was a good start! It was short, maybe a lil TOO short, but it was a nice lil glimpse into the classic fantasy world with fun characters both in design and personality. Hope we see more of them somewhere! Weird a non-video game got in but eh I don't mind.

Unreal Tournament: Xan—This episode led me down a rabbit hole of finding out the Unreal Engine was based on an old game made by pre-Fortnite Epic Games, and it's apparently delisted everywhere? Sucks, but cool it got an episode! I love robot uprisings.

Warhammer 40,000: And They Shall Know No Fear—I know nothing about Warhammer except everything kinda sucks and the giant church mechs. This was a fun episode! There's a simple pleasure in watching a group of guys effortlessly tear through mooks. I suppose I'd get more if I specifically played the Space Marine games, but hey as is I liked it.

PAC-MAN: Circle—Dares to ask the question, what if "Pac" and "Man" were two separate guys? But for real though...I actually liked this one? It's horror, but not over the top, gorey but not for the sake of it. Does it use next to none of the Pac-Man iconography? Yeah. But it kinda works as its own, messed up sorta thing. I wonder if that Shadow Labyrinth game came first, or if the short did. Also, the robot is named Puck! Cause Pac-Man's original name in Japan was Puck-Man but in American they could scratch at the P and make it...ya know...Scott Pilgrim reference.

The Outer Worlds: The Company We Keep—I kept forgetting The Outer Worlds had an episode here...or that the game existed at all. Which is a shame! Sure, I heard mixed things about it, but nice to see Obsidian still making original stuff! Plus that sequel, could be better! For this episode...it was fine. A solid example of tragedy. The ending puzzled me, but in a good way. Coulda felt more connected to the vibes of the game, but def has that humor style in place!

Mega Man: Start—It was alright. Rock and Dr. Light had good VAs. Bomb Man had a cool design. Nice lil easter eggs like the "Dr. W" emblem or the DLN serial numbers, and Rock defeating Bomb Man with an ice power was clever. But MAN...this coulda been so much better if it was longer! It's only like, five minutes! I suppose its good they gave each short a variable time so they had space to tell their story, but I would have loved to see more of this world! The other Robot Masters, Roll, WILY, for god's sake! But that MM2 Wily Castle theme for the credits...oh MAN that's good! Please, make another Mega Man short for season two! Or an animated series in THIS style! Mega Man needs more good animated adaptations after Fully Charged and Ruby-Spears.

Spelunky: Tally—Very cool to see an indie game here, and for one of the OGs! Even if this one takes after the sequel...but still! This one was fun, especially since it seemed to really embrace the idea of being a video game. I'm not super familiar on the Spelunky lore, but the interpretation of the randomly generated caves and the curse that revives them were neat tidbits, and the overall message was very nice! One of the shorter ones, around the same length of the Mega Man and Pac-Man ones, but it's to its benefit. Any longer and it woulda felt dragged out. Honestly, the best way to adapt a rougelike imo.

Concord: Tale of the Implacable—Okay, ya gotta understand I HAD to see this one after Sony's blunder! And, to be honest...this may be the best one between all I've seen??? Like, genuinely!! It's one of the longer ones at around fifteen minutes, and is paced pretty well. Idk if any of these characters show back up in the game, but they were all pretty good for the brief time I saw them? The framing of this being a retold story passed as legend, with an ambiguous fate for the crew was neat and I liked the ending??? I was joking about this episode being so good it might redeem the game, but...well I wouldn't go that far, but damn, this might be my favorite behind the Mega Man and Pac-Man ones??

Playtime: Fulfillment—The last episode, and the only one not based on a specific game, instead being based on PlayStation as a whole. This was a nice closer, tbh! The ending left me a touch confused on what exactly happened, but it was a fun ride, all things considered! Seeing the Helldivers run around and shout about democracy, one of the Colossi from Shadow of the Colossus, Kratos smashing down, and SACKBOY!! I honestly just wish there was more of it! (Or that God of War got its own dedicated episode but that's besides the point). Kinda hope they do this "company" based episode as a season closer for season two, maybe for SEGA or Capcom! That'd be fun!

Overall, a pretty good series! I'd say it's worth my while, plus most of the episodes are under twenty minutes if that, so you could binge it reasonably in a day. Looking forward to that second season. Some sequels would be cool (mainly for Mega Man), but if it has to be only new games...mmmm. God of War, for sure. Mass Effect. Destiny? Donkey Kong, but that's a pipe dream. Nintendo never does cool stuff like that.

[pmdfanfiction]

The next Fic of the Week is here!

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: The Amnesiacs by p-anon!

Summary:

A boy named Sanvu wakes as a Snivy with almost no memory of his past, a surely familiar tale. He’s not alone however; Pokemon of all kinds are losing memory in this world, and there’s something that’s not quite right with the local Mentage Town as a result. Can Sanvu, alongside his companion Pachuku, an odd Pachirisu, get to the bottom of their own world’s deteriorating state before it’s too late?

Events coincide with Super Mystery Dungeon, but it is not a retelling.

Check the fic out here: https://pmdfanfiction.com/story/pokemon-mystery-dungeon-the-amnesiacs/

Happy reading!!!

[dozing--zzz]

intro post :p

HEY FELLOW LOSERS

my name is lee, im seventeen, and a switch in the sfw tickle community.

i view tickles as a fun, silly, bonding activity for friends, lovers, or family, and just a cute part of the human condition. i adore seeing people laughing. i love laughs a lot. maybe a little too much. (again, all nsfw dni)

i love talking with others in the community like me, so never hesitate to dm me or anything. id love to chat and make a few friends here.

*unfurls a long scroll*

fandoms

(bold = currently my favorites, strikethrough = dormant, italics = just got into it)

critical role (mighty nien, bells hells, and now wildmount wildings)

d&d

my ocs + original universe

the lego movie

pokemon (sun/moon, sword/shield, xy, wv2/bv2 are my favorites)

fantasy life (3ds)

the outsiders by s.e. hinton

minecraft

little big planet

sanders sides

hermitcraft

commentary youtube

studio ghibli

harvest moon: tale of two towns

big hero 6

octonauts

wild kratts

gravity falls

delicious In dungeon

acnh

my favorites change a lot, but it's really rare that the list gets longer lol

dni/other iffy things

if you apply to any of the following labels, please do not interact with me or my blog. thanks!

teasing me about my name! not something i can control, and it has gotten super annoying especially when its ppl idk lmao

NFSW or partially NSFW blog

age 30 or older. if i meet you before then and you are a good person and we know eachother when you turn 30, i can make an exception.

feet-centered blog or someone with a foot fetish. you do you, i have no problem with whatever you like, but it is not my thing and makes me uncomfortable.

prefer solely/mostly heavy bondage or tickle torture and/or have a blog centered around it, again, you do you but it scares me lol

homophobic, transphobic, misogynist, sexist, etc. need i explain. i am under the trans umbrella and gay. so if you don't like it fuck off respectfully

proshipper or a proshipping supporter.

a vore enjoyer sexual or nonsexual. sorry and no personal hate to you but that stuff terrifies me

enjoy/create irl tickling content without consent from the people. yes, this includes youtubers, actors, kpop groups, etc. they're real people and i feel that it is weird and icky to make that sort of content without their consent. thats a real person (obv does not include clips of real events, those are always super cute lol)

THANKS FOR READING ALL OF THAT LOL

heres some little intro things i filled out if ur curious :)

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

oh my god gym buddies!jason finally had the guts to ask her out on a date!! GO JAY GO!!! need to know how this date goes

Oh, you wanna know how the date went? Hahahaha. Ok.

Warnings, Swearing, fluff, Smut, hand holding, date, throat holding, me not know sweet fa about sports, but I made this reader sporty so I'm trying my best.

"Dude, I am so sweaty." You say to Annie as you skate to a stop at her goal post, " I can't believe I agreed to this date."

"Babes, it'll be fine," she nudges her helmet towards where Jason is sat in the stands, "he hasn't taken his eyes off you since we came out."

"I'm so nervous, I haven't been on a real date in.."

"Forever, I know." She sighs, squaring up as Mckinnley and Jones come at you both, "get out there, we need our defender."

"On it."

You're amazing, Jason thinks, so quick as you weave your way through the other players before slamming one of the other team into the barricade. No wonder you're a slow runner, you're fucking feet belong on the ice.

You move like a freight train in those pads, and he's honestly so impressed by you and the force you seem to have behind every hit. It hits him in an instant, and he whips out his phone, hoping Alfie is around to help him rearrange his date plans.

The game comes to a close as you win the game 1-0 it was really close and the Vipers really brought their all tonight, but with Annie in goal they didn't stand a chance.

Xx

"Good luck," Annie waves, as you pull your jacket on, adjusting your dress, "try not to kill him."

"Thanks, I'll try my best." You wave back as you head outside to meet your date.

He's waiting, his bulking form leaning against a black motorcycle and a spare helmet resting on the back seat. "Hello Sweetheart," Jason smiles, pushing off the bike and moving to meet you in the middle with a kiss, "you were so fucking hot out there."

"Hi Jay, I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"You ready to go?" He rubs his hands together, "I got big plans for us."

"Can't wait," you grab the helmet, slipping it over your head and tilting the visor up, "well, we going or what?"

"Right," Jason shakes his head, his brain almost combusting at the sight of you in his spare helmet, on the back of his bike, "ready for the best night of your life?"

"Guess we'll see." You wrap your arms around him tight, your bag strapped to your back as you take off from the rink and into the night.

The bike goes fast, humming underneath you as you inhale Jason's cologne, feel his soft leather jacket under your finger tips and the wind rushes over your helmet.

"Where are we?" You ask when he pulls to the side of the road, "dude, this shady as fuck."

"Is not," he shrugs, taking off his helmet and sitting it on the bike, "where's your sense of adventure?"

"In these shoes?" You gesture to your kitten heels you bought for the date, "carrying this?" You jostle your bag, "my sense of adventure is about 2 miles away."

"You're right," he slips the bag from your shoulder, "let me carry that. Have you got any sneakers in here?"

"I mean, yeah. But what happened to take me out and show me off?"

"I think you've done enough showing off tonight. Miss I slam people so hard the ice shakes."

"You impressed Todd?"

"I'm not, not impressed." He says, grabbing your chucks from the bag and throwing them to you, "come on, it's only a ways up here." His head gestures towards the path in the woods, "it's not super far. Cardio lover like you will love it."

"Fine," you roll your eyes, tightening your coat around your dress to keep it from getting snagged in the trees.

"Where is it," Jason says, brushing his hand long the long layer of vines that sit before you, "gotta be- here!" He smiles brightly as a gate swings open behind him and you can see light filtering through the vines.

"Is this a murder dungeon?"

"Come and see," he steps through, holding the vines up so they don't snag in your hair.

You step under his arm, and the sight before you is like a fairy tale. Warm fairy lights hang over a sparkling frozen pond, a huge picnic blanket covered in tiny treats just to the side, all sitting in the cutest garden full of roses and maple trees. "Jason, this is-"

"Good right?" He starts to walk towards the picnic blanket, "do you like it?"

"Jason."

"It's not to much is it?" He turns worry written on his face, "we can go to a restaurant if you want, I just- seeing you on the ice and then I wanted to do something spec-"

"Shut up." You smile, jumping into his arms and kissing him senseless. You feel him carry you back, your backback falling to the ground next to him.

"You like it?" He whispers between your kisses, his hands gripping at your assunder your dress.

"It's beautiful, Jay."

"Like you."

"Corny." You push him gently in the chest, and he uses the momentum to fall to the ground. His arm catching the brunt of your weight.

"Oh no! I've been attacked." He jokes grabbing onto your hips and adjusting you on his lap, "whatever," he grabs your hands pulling them around his neck, "could I do to fight you off?" He winks pulling you so your chests are flush.

"You wouldn't," you squeeze your thighs on his, your nose brushing against his, "but-" You glance over to the tiny tea cakes, "I am starving."

"These -" he reaches over, sticking one half in his mouth, "are so good," you lean forward, taking a bite from it, giggling as he kisses you. Picking up another cake, "open up," he slowly feeds you the cake, then another watching as you moan at how good they are.

"You make the prettiest sounds for me," Jason sighs, holding your face to kiss you deeper, "and you taste like caramel."

"Jason," you moan into his kiss, "can we get on the ice?"

"Last one on the ice has to buy breakfast." He laughs, shoving you off him and reaching over to grab his skates.

"You're on Todd."

You zip around him, laughing as he spins trying to catch you. "Now who's the slow poke?"

"I'm going to get you," he threatens with a laugh, his hands always just beyond you, "you can't keep me away forever."

"Have you ever done a lift before?" You call out as you skate circles around him.

"You've met Grayson. What do you think?" He calls his arms, stretching out for you as you graze by him.

"Think you can catch me?"

"Don't promise to let you go if I do."

You skate back, doing a loop as you line up, "Ready?"

"Go." You take off, picking up speed as you close in on him and then suddenly his hands are around your waist, lifting you up and over his head as he spins you. The lights of the garden twinkle around you, your heart fluttering as he brings you down, your arms wrapping around his neck as you glide across the ice together.

"Fuck, you're stunning," Jason smiles, the joy shining in his eyes, his big hands massaging your waist, "can't believe you agreed to this."

"I can't believe you promised me a mind-blowing orgasm and yet," you start to play with his curls, "I'm back on the ice."

"Guess I better deliver then," he winks, scooping you in his arms and skating you off the pond, awkwardly walking you away from the lights.

"JAY," you giggle, trying to keep your skates away from his arms, "where are we going?"

"Somewhere a bit more private than Bruce's back lawn." He jokes and you have the realisation of where exactly the fuck you are right now. But when he opens the door to the greenhouse, you don't even give a shit. The moons filtering through the glass ceiling, Jason sits you on a wooden table his fingers already working to get both your skates off and when he looks up at you from the ground his eyes have gone completely feral.

"Jason," you say in a calming voice, "what's that look for?"

"I've wanted to to this all night, wrap those strong thighs around my head, sweetheart. Smother me in your strength," he pushes your panties to the side, his head disappearing under the skirt of your dress as he begins to devour you whole. Your legs clenching around his head as he sucks at your clit and he buries his fingers inside you.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow until you're a panting mess above him, crying out his name, choking him between your legs and begging for him to fuck you.

"Lay back baby," he directs you, lifting your legs over his shoulders as he frees himself from his jeans, "you want this?" He asks, slapping you with his cock, "no nodding, I want your words. I wanna hear it."

"Fuck me Jason."

"Good girl." He plummets into you, grinding down into you as his hand twines with yours, "so fucking gorgeous."

"Hurry up, please." Jason leans over you, his lips molding with yours as his thick cock spreads you, stretching you out second by second until he reaches the end of you, "holy - Jay."

"I know," he pants into your kiss, "I know, I'm gunna move now, sweetheart. You ready?"

"Yes, please move. Please." He withdraws before thrusting back into you. Fucking into you so hard that the pots on the table start to shake.

"Take it for me." He breathes, his voice a low growl, "be a good girl and take it."

Your ankles lock around his neck, your legs shaking as he pounds into you. His mouth littering kisses up your neck as he whispers how well your doing and how perfect you are for him.

"Jay, I-"

"I know baby, I know it's so good." Jason leans his face back, pressing his forehead into yours, his fingers tightening in yours, "I want your cum," taking his free hand he wraps it around your thigh, pressing his fingers into your clit, "I want all of it," he fucks down into you his thick cock grinding down into your g spot, "and you're going to give it to me."

"Jaso-" you pant over and over as your climax floods through you and onto his cock.

"I'm not done baby, I want all your cum."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." He keeps going his pace slowing as he starts to slam into you, "I know you've got more cum for me," he moves your hands wrapping them both around your throat, "this is gunna make sure I get it." His hand held over yours as you hold your throat.

"Jason, it's so much," you whine your ass inching up the table in an attempt to get away.

"No you fucking don't." He growls, tightening his grip on your throat, his solid arm flexing over your thigh to keep you in place, "you’ve got more for me, sweetheart." He growls his dick still slamming into you, "give it to me."

"I- ah. Jaso- plea-" you lose your words as your second climax threatens to kill you and Jasons cum fills you up.

He slows, still slowly fucking into you as you come down from you. Your breath still stuck in your throat. He gently drops your legs from his shoulders, wrapping them around his waist as he burries his face in your neck.

"Jason," you pant, kissing him softly on the cheek.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is this Wayne manor?"

"Hmmm..."

"Is Bruce going to kill us?"

"No, but we should probably get going before Alfred comes to find us."

[cilil]

Eönwë Week - Day 3: Celeg Aithorn

AN: I'll be doing meta/headcanon posts for some of these days, hope you find them entertaining as well💙

Today's topic: Celeg Aithorn, or: We know the name of Eönwë's sword?

𓅛 To answer this question, we first have to gather some tidbits found in several sources. I'll present those first - that will be the canon part - and then move on to talk about my headcanons based on them. Let's begin!

𓅛 Celeg Aithorn was mentioned in Beleg's whetting spell in The Lay of the Children of Húrin. Here is the passage in question:

There wondrous wove he words of sharpness, and the names of knives and Gnomish blades he uttered o'er it: even Ogbar's spear and the glaive of Gaurin whose gleaming stroke did rive the rocks of Rodrim's hall; the sword of Saithnar, and the silver blades of the enchanted children of chains forged in their deep dungeon; the dirk of Nargil, the knife of the North in Nogrod smithied; the sweeping sickle of the slashing tempest, the lambent lightning's leaping falchion even Celeg Aithorn that shall cleave the world. (The Lay of the Children of Húrin, "II. Beleg", p. 45)

For now, let's just take note and put a pin in the "cleave the world" part.

𓅛 The name Celeg Aithorn is Early Noldorin, with different sources providing slightly different meanings. According to elfdict.com, it may mean Lambent Lightning.

𓅛 In The Annals of Aman (Morgoth's Ring), we then learn of a sword that Manwë carried during the War of the Powers:

Thence, seeing that all was lost (for that time), [Melkor] sent forth on a sudden a host of Balrogs, the last of his servants that remained, and they assailed the standard of Manwë, as it were a tide of flame. But they were withered in the wind of his wrath and slain with the lightning of his sword; and Melkor stood at last alone. (MR, p. 75)

This is relevant because, according to The War of the Jewels, Manwë later gave this sword to Eönwë.

𓅛 As for the final puzzle piece, there is the old version of the Dagor Dagorath prophecy provided in Lost Tales, part of which states:

So shall it be that Fionwë Úrion, son of Manwë, of love for Urwendi shall in the end be Melko's bane, and shall destroy the world to destroy his foe, and so shall all things then be rolled away. (LT Part One, p. 219)

As many of you already know, Fionwë Úrion is the same character who later became Eönwë, changed to Manwë's herald and Maiarin servant instead of his son because the concept of the Valar having children was abandoned.

𓅛 So we have a sword named Celeg Aithorn "that shall cleave the world", an old prophecy stating that Eönwë is going to destroy the world and Manwë giving him his sword. It has therefore been suggested that these two swords are in fact that same, and I would say that a sword originally owned by Manwë and seen with lightning would fit the proposed etymology of Celeg Aithorn as well.

𓅛 Now, as you've noticed none of the sources cited above are from the Silmarillion and canonicity is a fickle thing in this fandom as is. Whether Tolkien, if you asked him today, would say that yes, this sword of Manwë canonically exists and Eönwë wielded it in the War of Wrath and is also the same as Celeg Aithorn, I can't say for sure. Best I can say is that it all fits together.

𓅛 This is why I've adopted this concept into my personal headcanon (note: I will from now on refer to it as just one sword, based on the theory that it is the same, and just call it Celeg Aithorn).

𓅛 I like to think that Aulë forged Celeg Aithorn for Manwë, either as a gift similar to the scepter the Noldor would later make for him or as a weapon to use in battle against Melkor. Manwë accepted it and also carried it, though I'm admittedly not sure if the part where he fights the Balrogs is something I'm keeping in my default verse; in verses where he is, for one reason or another, more "combative" for sure, but my take on current canon!Manwë is that he's not really a fighter (much like Melkor, funnily enough) and doesn't enjoy any sort of fighting, only defending himself or others if he absolutely has to resort to that.

𓅛 Seeing the destruction caused by the War of the Powers, knowing that going to war time and time again wasn't what Eru intended for him and also driven by his personal aversion, Manwë then gave Celeg Aithorn to Eönwë instead. Eönwë had already made a name for himself as one of the best warriors among the Maiar and Manwë sensed that there would difficult battles in his future, telling him that the sword would be of better use to him ("It's dangerous to go alone! Take this", if you will).

𓅛 This was also a symbolic act foreshadowing how Eönwë would be the one to lead the Host of Valinor in the War of Wrath, not Manwë himself, as well as both of them accepting their fates: Manwë accepting that the role of the Elder King was to stay behind and Eönwë accepting his role of fighting Melkor alongside the Children.

𓅛 Eönwë has used Celeg Aithorn ever since and it has served him faithfully. It's possible that it would betray him if he ever ceased being loyal to Manwë, but this remains in the realm of pure theory so far, given how loyal to his lord Eönwë has been.

𓅛 Being a sword crafted by a Vala and for a Vala, Celeg Aithorn is very powerful. It also shares the moral alignment of its current and previous owner and is therefore one of, if not the best weapon to fight evil creatures with (similar to the Master Sword in The Legend of Zelda, to draw a popular comparison). It was likely blessed by Manwë and hallowed by Varda, like she did with the Silmarils.

𓅛 Eönwë may have kept his old sword - the one he used before receiving Celeg Aithorn - for sentimental reasons, since he used to have it sharpened and maintained by Mairon. This may, unbeknownst to him, have saved him if Mairon, during his time as a spy, tampered with it to give Melkor an advantage.

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose

@elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @singleteapot

@stormchaser819 @urwendii @wandererindreams @eonweweek

[posthumanwanderings]

❄️VMII - Vapormas Winter VGM Mix Vol.1❄️ 

0:00 Christmas NiGHTS - Intro 4:20 Christmas NiGHTS - Introduce Dream (Jingle) 5:30 Christmas NiGHTS - Winter Sleep 7:40 Bomberman 64 - White Glacier 11:30 Sonic 3D Blast - Diamond Dust Act 2 17:10 Napple Tale - Spring’s Petal 19:00 Paper Mario - Crystal Palace Crawl 21:10 Magic Knight Rayearth - Cavern of Eternal Ice 24:45 Tales of Vesperia - Thousand Year Slumber of Blastia 27:20 Secret of Mana - A Wish 29:15 Sonic Adventure - Limestone Cave 32:30 Paper Mario - Snow Road 36:00 Sonic 3D Blast - Diamond Dust Act 1 38:10 Tail Concerto - Coolant 44:00 Final Fantasy VII - Buried in the Snow 51:05 Jazz Jackrabbit 2 - A Cold Day In Heck 57:50 Paper Mario - Starborn Valley Trail 59:50 Phantasy Star Online 2 - White Summit Probe Naberius 1:13:40 Napple Tale - Snowball| 1:17:25 Phantasy Star Universe - Christmas 1:23:00 Final Fantasy X - People of the North Pole 1:29:30 Tales of Vesperia - Source of the Seething Silence 1:35:20 Skies of Arcadia - Ice Dungeon 1:41:00 Seiken Densetsu 3 - Another Winter 1:43:55 Phantom Brave - Snowberry| 1:49:05 Napple Tale - Skipper 1:54:00 Napple Tale - October Child 1:58:15 Mario Kart 64 - Frappe Snowland / Sherbet Land 2:02:00 Tomba 2 - Kujara Ranch 2:04:15 Pokémon D/P - Snowpoint City (Day) 2:07:00 NiGHTS Into Dreams - Take the Snow Train 2:19:20 Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Rescue Team - Escape Through the Snow 2:22:45 Tales of Symphonia - A Snow Light (Flanoir) 2:26:00 Mega Man 8 - Frost Man Stage 2:29:20 Zelda: Ocarina of Time - Ice Cavern 2:32:30 Tales of Phantasia - Freeze 2:36:10 Super Monkey Ball - Arctic 2:41:45 Kirby’s Return to Dream Land - Snowball Scuffle 2:46:05 Christmas NiGHTS - New Year’s ‘9th’ 2:47:25 Shenmue - Silent Night, Holy Night 2:51:50 Croc - The Ice of Life 2:54:00 Mega Man X - Chill Penguin Stage 2:56:25 Advance Wars Duel Strike - Sasha’s Theme 3:01:15 Astal - The Crystal Palace 3:05:30 Shenmue - Sha Hua Christmas 3:12:25 Yoshi’s Wooly World - Frozen Solid & Chilled 3:17:00 Christmas NiGHTS - Dreams Dreams (Nightopian Ver.) 3:20:00 Christmas NiGHTS - Ending 3:23:10 Magic Knight Rayearth - The Sparkling Ice of Rosen 3:25:15 Yume Nikki - Snow World

[strykingback]

Okay so now p/apitimefire177 has responded... well unsurprisingly on a vague post (Well I wouldnt say vague) about Doom and I. So I have to pull up again since they have made the choice to mention me. So, let's go band for band and see what you had to say.

First things first, you stated how Jaune is not Aryan, including providing the definition of it and how "those guys" bastardized it. Good, you know what it is. But nowadays the meaning of Aryan has sadly since been affiliated with White Supremacy and "Those Guys" Fair enough. Let's also not forget this isnt the ONLY thing they bastardized as well.

Once again, Doom was using this as either a joke to piss you off, since you know White Supremacists like to describe the perfect race as Blonde hair, Blue Eyes, white skin....?

Which once again they could have done a Joan of Arc allusion with Jaune, but decided to go with the Paladin/Knight allusion. Showing that they only used her as the inspiration for Jaune, in no means did they explore anything with the allusion at all.

Nothing from Joan of Arc's life being used to develop Jaune even further. Just making him into a DND Paladin, with his semblance being literally. "Lay On Hands" from surprise-surprise. Dungeons and Dragons. Nothing exciting about that...

No Semblance that could make Jaune see into the future and see Cinder amongst the flames alluding to Joan of Arc's death....

Or anything about him making an effort to learn how important a sacrifice is to bring about the swan song of victory. Y'know.... just like Joan of Arc?!

Or maybe making Jaune be a good strategist despite protests from his teammates... LIKE JOAN OF ARC!

Then papi goes off again on a ad hominem tangent, calling Doom illiterate and stating that they needed to do research and state how they throw tantrums.

No Papi, you are the one throwing tantrums. You are proving me and Doom right because what did you do right after Doom and I called you out. You went back to your regularly scheduled Jaune Simping and Cardin-Hate Posting. Plus as I said before, Doom may have used this as a means of making it an INSULT to the character as a whole.

You are being a belligerent fool, and you are proving Doom right. I'm even still surprised that you havent been banned off tumblr yet for harassment, using ableist slurs (despite your half-hearted apology), and so on forth.

Now you are indeed correct.. kind of about one thing. R/RWBYCritics isnt a valuable source. But I digress because I used it for ONE thing and that was to see how much screen time did Jaune get in RWBY as part of my research cause good lord I am not going to sit around and watch Volumes 1-9 having to time how much screentime he had. . Which from Volumes 1-6 He got and I repeat from that one post.

5,489 Hours of Screentime

Which when converted into an actual time it comes up to.

One hour thirty-one minutes and twenty-nine seconds

This is NOT counting Volumes 7-9 and I did NOT say that R/RWBYCritics was a Valuable source. If you actually paid attention to my other posts of me being critical about Jaune especially in the Twin-Revisions of why I think Jaune is a horrible Knight

One of the sources came from the Infographics Show. Where they gave a summarized talk about how Real Life Knights were not like the actual knights you would see in the Romanticized stories.

Even providing sources when one such historian talked with Spiegel Online about Sir John Arundel and his band of knights taking refuge in a convent violating the Nuns and stealing from them and throwing them overboard once they were all but used up.

Or how in that same video, quoted by Nigel Saul in his book Chivalry in Medieval England: "Knights only fought for three things. Land, Gold, and War Booty."

Since RWBY is a show that takes the romanticized takes of knights or stories from those romanticized stories. Such as Robin Hood, the Grimm Tales, etc. And apply them to RWBY.

Which once again, I only used R/RWBYCritics once for a source on Jaune's screentime and you falsely proclaim that I use it for all of my RWDE posts. Which I dont...

Now, let's also talk about this little thing I found where you made the statement about someone calling Jaune Fans Jaune-Turds. Which I do not know what the context was about, maybe an episode back then... but I am more surprised that you tunnel visioned to the insult instead of CHECKING THE FUCKING TAGS AND DATE.

Right off the bat. I see no mention of the RWDE tag there... and no mention of "Does this count as RWDE?" on there. This was a personal rant... and the date?

Here lemme put it in caps for you Papi.

"NOVEMBER 17th, 2018"

You are using a post from SIX YEARS ago as a means to "prove" that "Oh RWDE are all just meanies and what not." Gee its also not like you have been doing more wrong than us. Once again in my reply to your Stop The Hate 2.0 I simply put down at the START to not witchhunt you but to Block and Move On. Guess that didnt click in your head didnt it?! That was the only form of respect I was going to give you. Because I atleast have some form of morality to give you!

Lets not forget you got pissy from a post after this which was A JOKE. a fucking JOKE. Dude are you the DJ Akademiks of Jaune stans like getting all pissy over a JOKE?

I think we're done here. Pack it up. Cause listen Papi you called me out for not having valuable sources, well I provided while also once again cooking your ass in the Malevolent Kitchen. I dunno maybe at this point you are just way too easy to beat... plus the fact that it took you two months to say something about the call out, but either way. Have a good one, drink water, do some self-reflection and yeah Jaune still sucks.

Good Day.

[pocketfullofpearlies]

RISE OF RED: A TALE OF HEADS AND HEARTS

(Descendants: Rise of Red FanFiction/Reimagining)

Chapter 2

The Queen sat, awake in her bed laid with the finest red silks.

She could never sleep the night before the Heads and Hearts festival.

It was ironic how time, something that would normally pass by like lightening in Wonderland, seemed to crawl on and on when she really needed it to be fast.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes for a second, allowing herself to slip into a daze.

''Come along, Bridget. Don't be scared, follow me.''

Bridget looked into the tunnel and saw nothing but darkness.

''I don't know about this, Thorne. Seems dangerous,'' she said. '' And what if we're caught?''

His eyes twinkled mischievously.

''Exactly.''

''What?''

''Come on. After me.''

''Wait,'' Bridget started to say as he sped past her. He laughed as he ran, but in seconds, the laughter turned into screams.

''Thorne? Thorne! No!''

She tried to run after him, only to be pulled back by strong arms fastened tight round her body.

''No! Let me go! No!''

''Your Majesty?''

The Queen's eyes shot open, instantly focusing on the servant's hand that lingered above her shoulder.

''What have I said about touching me?'' She asked, her voice cold and clipped.

The servant visibly shivered and stammered out her words. ''I-it w-was j-just th-that Her M-majesty was scr-screaming a-and-''

''-Enough!''

The Queen snapped her fingers, alerting the guards that were now stationed at the foot of her bed.

''Have her placed in the dungeon and prepared for beheading''

The tray bearing a bowl of rose water that the servant had been carrying clattered to the ground as she fell over in shock.

''Your Imperialness, please! I beg of you! I have a family to take care of!''

''You should have thought about that before disrespecting your Queen.''

As the sentenced servant was carried away, another scurried in through a back door and into place, bowing humbly as she presented a fresh bowl of ice-cold rose water to the Queen.

Before she started her morning routine of inhaling the rich scent and dipping her face and hands into it, she snapped to another guard at the far end of the room who rushed over to her.

''See to it that my daughter is out of her room in the next twenty minutes wearing the dress I had made for her. And get Mr. Hightopp here immediately.''

''I'm sorry, your Majesty, but who's that?'' The Guard asked.

The servant holding the tray looked up and tried to signal him with her frantically moving eyes and small head shakes.

The Queen paused and looked him dead in the eye.

''You don't know who Mr. Hightopp is? The Mad Hatter?''

''Oh! A thousand apologies, ma'am; I'm new.''

''Ah, of course,'' the Queen said, smiling tightly. ''And now you won't be able to get old. It's off with your head too!''

She snapped at the new set of guards at the foot of her bed and they snatched him up and took him away just as he began to process what she had just said.

With a sigh, the Queen gestured at the new guard coming in to replace him.

''Do exactly what I just told that hair brained buffoon to do,'' she ordered her, before turning back to continue her routine. ''And you; fetch me a fresh bowl. Extra cold!''

The guard and servant sped off, narrowly managing not to collide with each other.

''Imbeciles,'' the Queen muttered to herself.

But nothing and no one was going to ruin this day for her.

Not even the memories turning over like acrobats in the back of her mind.

♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥

Red expected the pounding knock on her door and rolled her eyes.

''P-Princess Red?''

''I'm awake!''

''Your mother asked that you be ready in twenty minutes, and you should wear the dress she had made for you.''

''Oh no,'' Red said to herself as she heard hastily retreating footsteps.

''Say, isn't that the dress you burned to a crisp the other day?'' Cheshire cat said, appearing above Red's head with a toothbrush in his mouth.

''Yup, the very one,'' Red replied, throwing off her covers.

''Wow. You're definitely setting yourself up to be chopped, huh?''

''Not funny, Chesh.''

She went into the bathroom and came out wrapped in towels, only to see about a half a dozen handmaids standing before her.

''What's all this?''

''Her Majesty, the Queen, sent us to help you get dressed, Your Highness,'' one of them answered.

Red nodded. ''Right, right. But, uh, you see the problem is, the dress my mum wants me to wear....it doesn't fit anymore. I had way too many expanding cookies the other day, you know what I mean? Bummer!''

''Oh, well that's no problem, Your Highness. Your mother had another one made.''

The handmaid stepped aside so Red could see the one directly behind her who was holding up an intricately designed, blood red and black gown similar to the ones her mother usually wore for special occasions.

Red maintained her fake smile. ''Okay, but like I said; not my size anymore.''

''That's still no issue. The Queen specifically had this one made with stretching satin. It could fit a Jabberwocky.''

''Fantastic!'' Red exclaimed. ''Could you give me some room to do my hair first, please?''

The handmaids glanced at each other nervously before another one spoke up.

''Actually, Your Highness, we were asked to do your hair and makeup ourselves, to suit your mother's taste.''

''Of course you were. Since I'm still in just a towel, wanna scrummage through my butt too? Make sure it suits my mum's tastes in there?''

They all blinked at her and she sighed.

''Whatever, let's just start.''

♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♥

''Good of you to join us, Red,'' the Queen said, her voice dripping with disdain.

She was seated on a throne at the head of the heart shaped breakfast table, her meal on a heart shaped plate in front of her as Tarrant Hightopp, the Mad Hatter, and his son, Maddox, stood at her left side.

As usual, she was dressed to perfection, but her dress today was the times more intricate than her everyday ones; a black and red structural masterpiece that wrapped around her waist snugly before spreading out into a magnificent ball gown skirt that had been embroidered with blood red, heart shaped rubies to match her heart motifed makeup and hair.

Red gave her mother and all the guards and servants around a close-lipped smile as she struggled under the weight of her hair, which been styled into a gigantic heart atop her head.

She sat at her seat on the other end of the table, uncomfortable as the fancy dress she wore dug into her skin.

''What do you have for me, Tarrant?'' the Queen asked, beginning to cut into her bacon.

''Some bad news, I'm afraid, Your Majesty.''

The Queen dropped her fork and knife, looking at him directly.

''Go on, then.''

''Your Majesty, it's about your portrait that was in the Royal Courtyard. It seems a vandal came in the night and -well- vandalised it with paint and playing cards.''

Red and Maddox shared a quick glance, both of their heart rates picking up.

''A vandal, you say?'' The Queen sounded almost amused. ''Well, the Royal Courtyard is a heavily guarded place, isn't it? Where were the guards?''

''Well, Your Majesty. They were shrunken at the time of the vandalization.''

''Shrunken?''

''By means of shrinking cookies, according to them.''

''Right, right. And this vandal; surely, the state of the art security camera system that you created and installed should have caught whoever they were?''

''On a regular night, yes, Your Majesty. But as I checked the footage, I noticed that the camera lenses had been covered in what appeared to be a gelatinous substance.''

The Queen's right eye twitched slightly. ''So..jelly? Jelly is the reason that the vandal isn't kneeling before me right now begging for their life?''

''Unfortunately, Your Majesty.''

''Oh, it's a good thing you said the word 'unfortunately', Tarrant. Because things are about to become even more unfortunate.''

The Queen snapped at one of the guards.

''Get me all the guards that were on duty at the Royal Courtyard last night. NOW!''

The guard left quickly and she turned to her daughter.

''Red, you were outside last night...did you see anything?''

All the blood in Red's face drained and she felt herself get pale, but she shook her head.

''Mum, come on. Let's not do this. Can't we just remove one of the tons and tons of portraits of you here and place it in the Courtyard? Plus, we have a time schedule to meet, don't we? Heads and Hearts Festival is supposed to start in an hour.''

''I rule Wonderland, so I say when anything, and I mean anything is supposed to start. Nothing starts without me saying it does.''

As she rounded up her statement, the guards arrived, heart shaped handcuffs on each one of their hands.

''Well, if it isn't the idiots who couldn't watch over my gorgeous and expensive portrait. KNEEL!''

All the guards went down on their knees, trembling with fear.

The Queen had a small, sick smile on her wine red lips as she watched them.

''I'm not even going to ask for any details,'' she said. '' Or maybe I should....it would make me even angrier than I am now.''

''Your Majesty....have mercy,'' one of the guards begged, tears and snot streaming down his face in an embarrassing combination.

'The Queen laughed; a high pitched, manic laugh that stopped at her mouth and didn't reach the rest of her face.

''I'm being merciful right now by not skewering you like a kebab with your own spear,'' she said, drily.

Guilt was beginning to eat Red up and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

''Mum, I- ''

''-It seems you have a lot of ideas today, Red,'' The Queen snapped. ''How about you suggest how best I deal with these numbskulls?''

The air in Red's lungs seized and her mouth hung open.

''I,uh...I..''

'' And you had better make the punishment a good one, or it'll be your head on the chopping block.''

Red caught Maddox's gaze again, then turned to look at the kneeling guards.

''I can't, Mum,'' she managed to say.

The Queen's eyes blazed in anger. ''Are you really going to embarrass me in front of everyone like this?''

Red opened her mouth to speak but the words came out as a croak.

''Is this what I pay you to teach her, Tarrant? To go against me so blatantly?''

''Your Majesty, I get paid to teach Princess Red all she needs to know as a royal. That includes regular school subjects, etiquette and elocution, not how she should rule,'' the Mad Hatter replied.

''Really?'' The Queen drawled. ''I'll have you know that it is your years of friendship and good service that is keeping your head on your shoulders right now.''

Suddenly, a servant ran in, waving a letter in his right hand.

''Your Majesty!'' He called out, attracting the attention of everyone in the dining room.

Maddox stepped aside to collect the letter from him.

''It's from Auradon Prep. Signed by the Principal, Uma.''

That caught the Queen's attention. ''Uma? Ursula' s girl? She took over the school? Impressive.''

''Actually, no, Your Majesty,'' Maddox said. ''Uma was chosen for the position by King Ben and Queen Mal as part of their Auradon-Isle alliance.''

The Queen scoffed and rolled her huge, expressive brown eyes, that had been expertly lined with red.

''I still can't believe that forest rat's daughter couldn't go through with her mother's plans. And then what? She marries a guy whose father spent decades as a literal rabid animal, and we're supposed to take them all seriously?''

''Um, w-well, the letter seems to have been sent for Princess Red, Your Majesty,'' Maddox said, not quite knowing how to respond to her rant.

''For me?'' Red asked, the exact same time as her mother asked, ''For Red?''

Maddox looked carefully at the envelope again and nodded.

''Give it to me,'' the Queen ordered, stretching out a manicured hand.

She snatched the letter from Maddox and tore the envelope open with one of her stiletto nails.

The letter floated, twinkling with Auradonian magic and began to read itself out in Uma's voice.

''Greetings-''

''-Oh hush!'' the Queen snarled, making the letter go silent instantly.

She grabbed it and read through the contents, an undecipherable expression clouding her face the further she went.

The rest of the room waiting silently with bated breath.

''What's it say, Mum?'' Red eventually questioned, curiosity loosening her tongue.

The Queen put down the letter and looked at her.

''They want you at Auradon Prep. As a student.''

''Wait, what? You're joking, right?''

''I do not joke, Redwina.''

''Okay...but I know I'm not going.''

''On the contrary. You will go and attend Auradon Prep.''

Red looked around, trying to see if everyone was hearing what was.

''Huh?''

The Queen clapped her hands and guards came to lift up her throne from the ground.

''Go get changed and pack up a trunk; we leave at once,'' she said simply. '' Tarrant, you and your boy, assist Red. As for the rest of you, remain here till I'm back.''

The guards carried the Queen's throne away as Red sunk back into her seat.

''What just happened?'' she asked Maddox.

''Honestly, I don't know either, Princess,'' he said.

The Mad Hatter took off his hat and pulled out a full shot glass, downing it all in one gulp.

''I'll be in the Shoppe, son. You take care of Her Highness,'' he said to Maddox.

Maddox nodded and walked over to Red, offering her a hand.

''Come on, Princess.''

Still dazed by her mother's abrupt decision, Red managed to stand up, and Maddox led her all the way to her room.

Once she was safe within her own space, Red sank down to the floor.

''She wants to ship me off to Auradon all of a sudden? No! This is definitely a trap....some kind of excuse to have me killed where no one would be able to save me.''

Maddox crouched down next to her and rubbed her back to calm her down.

''Maybe you should give your mother more credit, Princess. I know for a fact that the letter was authentic.''

''But why? She didn't even let me attend school here like you and other Wonderland kids, and suddenly she's okay with me attending some fancy boarding school in a kingdom she detests? I don't get it Mads.....I'm scared.''

Red was shaking as Maddox hugged her to himself.

''It's okay, Princess,'' he said, keeping his voice soft and gentle. ''It's all gonna be okay.''

She sniffled, syrup-like tears streaming from her eyes and smudging her heavy makeup.

''Think of it this way; you'll be away from your mother's control, in a kingdom that supports individuality and self expression. You won't have to hide or lie or trick anyone with weird snacks to be yourself,'' he told her. ''And you'll be interacting with other royals your age and learning from the best tutors and lecturers of all time. It'll be great.''

They were both lying on their backs on the floor at this point, hands intertwined.

''I suppose when you put it like that...''

''And, hey. If there's any trouble or you absolutely hate it, you could use this.''

He rummaged in his pocket with his free hand, eventually pulling out what appeared to be a thick pocket watch held with a crystalline rope.

Red gasped. ''The time machine! But I thought that-''

''-It could still destroy all time and life as we know it,'' he warned. ''So please, I literally beg of you; don't use it unless it's really, really necessary.''

''Okay,'' she said, attempting to take it.

Maddox raised it out of her reach and she made a face.

''I mean it, Red,'' he said firmly.

The use of her real name shook her slightly and she nodded.

''I'm trusting you with my life and yours and everyone else's by giving you this, Princess,'' he added, sitting up and pulling her up with him.

''I know,'' Red said as he placed the small device in her hands.

She looked at it, wrapping the rope round her fingers as she admired its simple intricacy.

''I won't let you down, Maddox. I promise,'' she told him, making the boy smile.

He had such a pleasantly handsome face, with strong features that somehow managed to appear gentle, coupled with tanned skin smothered with freckles and dancing green eyes canopied by thick, silvery eyelashes.

As he turned his face away slightly to hid his flushed cheeks, Red leaned over and gave him a soft peck, leaving a heart shaped lipstick print on his cheek.

Maddox faced her sharply, his breath hitching.

''What was that?'' he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Red smiled, her eyes getting watery again. ''That was 'thank you'.''

He reached his hand out hesitantly and she lowered her cheek into his palm, immediately wetting it with tears.

''I'm not sure when next we'll see each other, '' she said, looking up at him.

''Can I....say goodbye?''

His voice was filled with emotion, and his eyes that were fixed on hers told her everything she needed to know.

''Yes.''

With that, Maddox leaned in and kissed Red, using his hand under her cheek to position her better as his other hand went to her waist.

Red's eyes fluttered as she kissed his back with equal intensity, enjoying the feel of his soft lips caressing hers.

He held her gently but firmly, each movement eliciting reactions in his body he had never felt before.

''Princess,'' was all he managed to say when they paused for a second to catch their breath.

Her slightly swollen lips stretched into a smile but quickly parted to let out a gasp-like moan as he placed his lips on her neck.

She reached her hands upwards, knocking off his hat and sinking her fingers into his silky curls as he sucked on her neck with open mouthed kisses.

His one hand on her waist drew her towards him as close as she could possibly be in her fancy gown and she shivered at the sensation.

Eventually, he pulled his lips away from her neck and they shared a tender look, eyes speaking a thousand words as their chests heaved with effort, just about to continue when a knock sounded on the door.

''Princess Red? Your mother wants you to hurry it up. She says you have to be in Auradon by this afternoon.''

Red groaned and buried her face in Maddox's chest.

He rubbed she shoulders, planting gentle kisses on each of them.

''How 'bout I give you some room to change and then come back to help you pack?''

''Okay.''

He stood up from the floor and helped her to her feet.

''See you in a bit, Princess,'' he said, giving her a brief but passionate kiss before he left.

Cheshire Cat slowly appeared as Red smiled at Maddox's retreating figure.

''Well that was as steamy as it was boring,'' he said, making her jump.

''Way to ruin a perfect moment, Chesh,'' Red retorted, rolling her eyes and kicking off her shoes.

''Tick-tock, Reddy Red. Auradon awaits,'' he said in a sing-song voice, fading away gradually till only his smirk floated in the air.

Taking a breath, Red went to the bathroom and filled her tub with water.

Once it was almost at the top she stuck her huge contraption of hair into it, letting the water dislodge all the gels and sprays that held it in place.

Then she went over to her sink and scrubbed her face clean of her mother's prescribed makeup.

She looked at her reflection, hair drenched and dripping her face and smiled.

Auradon would soon get to meet Princess Red 2.0.

Chapter 3:

https://www.tumblr.com/pocketfullofpearlies/762187532638306304/rise-of-red-a-tale-of-heads-and?source=share

A\N: Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Don't forget to like and repost. Kk, bye<3