#Frosty Frolic

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 6

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, description of grotesque creatures, some monster smut (light), and some dubcon (lightly). Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

This part unveils a new evil!

There's a new threat, but your old friends are close by. Who knows what happens after...

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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Like a faded picture that has been imprisoned in the depths of a drawer for decades, the vision is projected as faintly on the canvases of your eyelids. As if it were just a vision born on the plastic soil of a dream, nothing else, the memory that takes shape in your head seems so unbelievable. This horrible place has been holding you in its embrace hot with the stench of death for so long, that the images left from the real world seem to your brain like the remnants of a life that never existed. However, you're sure that the melodious children's laughter ringing in your ears is real, and you know that it belongs to someone who was once important to you. In this friendly fantasy world, there is no decay and no blood, only the inviting rays of the sun, which guide you to the surface with warm fingers, as you frolic under the cool foams, mimicking a mermaid. You paddle nimbly with your little hands as the princess of the secret underwater realm, and each tiny shell and grain of sand greets you as a subject of your kingdom as you swim above them. And when someone pulls you out of your adventure and lifts you back into the air, warm from the summer heat, you sulk and argue, trying to get free, but whoever the stranger is, they only respond with amused laughter. And your heart almost sinks at the fact that only blurred spots dance in front of your eyes when you look up at the figure who kisses the top of your little head and hugs you so tenderly. Because you know you should know her, but nothing breaks through the darkness in your skull apart from the feeling of loss that gnaws at your insides.

Although for a moment you don't understand why your own mind is turning against you, but even your frozen shock is penetrated by a faint recognition, that there is a reason why this is exactly the memory that arose in you after the many horrors you experienced. And it seems a very cruel trick from your subconscious that now, when an unknown force drags you deeper and deeper toward the bottomless pits of the icy water, it calls up this exact one out of the many mementos slowly fading to nothingness. Because you know that now the sun-tanned hand won't rush to your aid to save you from the frosty, otherworldly empire that is drawing you closer and closer to its gate made of torn bodies with each passing second.

And as if you just woke up from an unwanted slumber, you realize that no matter how much you want to linger on the soft lap of soothing reminders of the past, and no matter how much all your instincts protest against letting the false security of the images dancing on your eyelids slip away, you have other things to do. Oh, how easy it would be to let it end like this, rocking in the heavy arms of the cool water, finally die without rough hands trying to bask in the warmth of your still living organs. But you have work to do. And this ultimately breaks your body out of the shock injected into you by the unknown attacker, which pulled you under the surface, heavy with rot and death.

As soon as your resolve finally pushes you back from the temptation of the soft, shapeless drifting of unconsciousness, the shortness of breath tightening your chest reaches your senses, and your mouth opens in a desperate gasp before you can stop the reflexive movement. And as the cold water breaks through your lips and you feel the musty taste of mud on your tongue, your jaw snaps shut with such alarmed speed that you swear that you feel your teeth cracking. However, a stray sip of water that has gone astray still finds its way into your trachea, and as it pushes along the soft tissues like a thousand tiny blades, you would instinctively start to cough, but you're only able to ease the pressure of a force squeezing your ribs for a few pathetic seconds.

Your eyes open in fear, and you can see the taunting invitation of the moon's pale light even through the sting of the water blurring your vision, and you can almost feel how mockingly the silvery beams laugh at your torment. And as you become aware of with what frightening certainty the last faintly twinkling trace of the starry sky starts to disappear, your brain catches up with the facts, and even through the lack of oxygen, you understand painfully fast that the fragile thread of your life will soon come to a pitiful end and break under the cruel weight of the waves gathering above you. And because of this, your body, for the umpteenth time during the night, surges you towards action, and as the cocktail of stress hormones in your veins revives, you try to propel yourself upwards with almost instinctive movements. But no matter how you paddle with your hands, just as your legs would also join in the frantic work, the alien creature wrapped around your ankle tightens its grip even more, and the suppressed scream that is born in your lungs only echoes in your skull, when you feel how cruelly its spikes drill into your bruised flesh. You can sense, quite horrified, how the poison, similar to liquid fire, creeps through the boundary of the skin and muscles pulsing with agony. And you know that whatever this formless beast tries to inject into your body, soon it will help tip you back into oblivion so that you allow yourself to be driven into the predator's waiting claws with a willing daze.

Your hands rush towards the wretched monster holding your feet captive, and even you're surprised when you grab hold of the sleek extensions of a seaweed-like plant. And even though the army of thorns rising from the slippery tissue cut into your palm, you don't care about how the suffering radiates through your arm like a lightning strike, instead, gritting your teeth, you try to loosen your shackles, because it's only a matter of time before your luck runs out and you're back in that goddamn car again. Crimson drops of blood emerge like snakes from under the wounded skin, and the more fiercely you fight with the cursed seaweed, the cerise fluid surrounds you like a vague mist, casting your figure, wild from the fury of the struggle, into the midst of blood-red clouds.

All your nerves are occupied by the heat of your battle, because you feel it all too well how the merciless iron fist around your chest is closing, as if someone had thrown you into a press, and the metal plates weighing on you were trying to slowly drive your ribs into the living flesh. And you would swear that even through the gurgle of liquid against your eardrums, you can hear the horrible, almost insidious snapping of the hair-thin cracks running down your bones, as if a heavy boot were treading on freshly fallen branches.

But even through your despair, it occurs to you how strange it is that the crackles travel into your ears through the roar of the water so clearly, even though you know that nothing but the sound of bubbles could penetrate the chaos created by your panic. And when you catch a pale spot moving from the corner of your eye, like an uncertain vision dancing on the edge of your consciousness, you stop chasing your release for a minute. First, through the hazy clouds cast by your blood, you see a broken form unfolding, looking more like the dried remains of a wind-twisted and battered tree than anything else. However, when the tormented figure seems to be approaching, and the scarlet veil finally fades due to your immobility, then the shock cuts through even the tension of air that is stuck in your throat. Because your brain, fighting with hypoxia, understands that the creature is swimming closer to you with measured laziness, which may have previously feasted on the disintegrating corpses washed to the surface.

A pair of milky white eyes take shape from the dark, endless void with an almost otherworldly light, and the hunger looming in them paints the mouth so dreadful, which stretches into an impossibly wide snarl with cruel joy when it discovers in you its prey frozen in fear. As if the corners of its mouth were trying to get around the elongated head, splitting the dry, ashy skin on its skull like grotesque cuts. Yet, your eyes are immediately drawn to the pale gums and the sharp teeth protruding from them, stained a dirty brown by the rotting pieces of meat sitting on them. And as the twisted, thin body floats closer, a series of dim, tormented blots appear behind it, like an army of faithful shadows, which absorb the rays of moonlight piercing the water, bringing an ominous night to the desolate realm of the lake.

And it doesn't take much time, just a mere fleeting second, and you become sure that you have to flee, because these horrible devilish beings will clean the pliant network of muscles and tendons from your bones before suffocation has a chance to push you into the saving ignorance of unconsciousness. That's why the fierceness of survival awakens in you anew, and even you yourself can't believe the power that terror stirs in you, when you almost tear the tentacles of the stubborn seaweed from you, and the adrenaline that settles on your nerves doesn't allow the pain caused by the attack of the thorns stabbing into your palm to reach you. And if you'd have time, you would burst into tears of joy when the damned plant finally releases your ankle, but you have no time to be relieved, because you see the cautious advance of the distorted beasts squirming in the corner of your eyes, and you can feel the small waves on your skin that their excitedly grinding teeth create.

You're almost desperately try to swim towards the surface, and although the force of the pressure gnawing at your insides increases with each hasty movement, and small black spots slowly crawl into your field of vision, you don't care about the agony that crushes the soft tissues of your internal organs. When your hand finally breaks through the mirror-smooth border of the lake's surface for the first time, and your fingers are caressed by the prickle of the cold night air, then all the suffering that has tried to push you into the silky lap of another death disappears. And perhaps you've never been so happy to see the moon sprawled out like a divine being in the middle of this imaginary world, and you're not at all bothered by the sardonic glee with which its sparkling, silvery gaze follows how you begin to swallow the life-giving oxygen like a pitiful fish on dry land. Although you forcefully cough out the remnants of the water that have strayed into your airways, as soon as the first sip of air fills your chest aching with burning stinging, and the specks squirming in front of your eyes vanish, you have the strength to focus on the way out. And you know that you don't have time to hesitate any longer, because you can see the moving outline of the unknown monsters gathering below you.

You run your gaze along the landscape shrouded in dreadful stillness, and you feel your stomach flutter with gratitude when you discover how seductively close the line of the shallow shore stretches behind you. You only wildly hope that you're able to outrun these horrible creatures, as you put each of your tired limbs to work and start swimming without any delay, because it only takes one of these awful beings to catch you, and your remains will be reduced to tiny crumbs of bones and viscera. And despite the fact that you've met your end countless times, you know that each of your deaths would pale in comparison to being torn to pieces alive by these infernal abominations. Perhaps this is the motivation that breaks through the last barrier in your consciousness and helps to get your body to move with an unprecedented urgency, and this is what dulls the ear-splitting scream-like noise of the frenzy unfolding behind you.

The few minutes seem like millennia until you finally reach the swampy ground, and you stumble to your feet, yanking your shoes from the mud's stubborn grip with an angry cry as you clumsily drag yourself ashore. And as you finally make it to the edge of the wet sand, you drop to your knees, panting, allowing yourself a few meager seconds to rest before you're forced to run again from the evils that stalk you. Because you’re sure that whatever the tentacled creature was, it's still lurking in the depths of the abyss, and the two murderers can also be breathing down your neck thanks to the terrible sidequest you've fallen into. Almost instinctively, your hand sinks into the pocket of the soaked pants, and when you find the disconcertingly untouched map, you feel a heavy weight lift off your heart. All you have to do is to lie low a bit, and then calmly set off to look for the next clue, which can finally get you out of this ever-deepening madness.

But when that bone-shaking scream blasts into the silence of the night once again, you wince reflexively, like a startled animal that has finally realized that the predator will soon wrap its foul-smelling jaws around its neck. And although by now you should have gotten used to the fact that this goddamn place always lulls you into a mirage-like illusion of tranquility with the promise of a moment of ease, only to avenge its mercy all the more cruelly, yet now fear claws into your insides with the same force as if you were experiencing the terrors of this nightmare for the first time. Because when you glance back, you see the cloudy eyes break through from under the velvety, rippling veil of the water, like faintly looming ghosts that were vomited out by the mouth of the lake opening to the other world, to drag you with them into the pits of insatiable hell. One of the gruesome figures emerges from the waves rocking like liquid obsidian, and its sickly thin body straightens amid gut-wrenching crackles, as if every single bone would slide into place on top of another, crumbling under the withered tissue. But even though the beast looks ungainly, when its mouth full of sharp teeth opens and that high-pitched, whistle-like screech rushes out of it, you clamp your hands to your ears to try to dull the pain of the head-splitting sound, and with the pain piercing your eardrums, you realize that if you don't get away now, then those teeth will be painted ruby by your intestines next time.

However, before you can even move, the howling stops, and it takes a few moments for your mind to register what is happening. And when you discover that pair of glowing red eyes appear behind the enraged army of monsters, you wish these bastards would rip you apart alive, because maybe that would be a more pleasant death than what those smoldering irises have in store for you. Because there is such a hungry temper dancing in them that settles into the aggressive movement with which the stranger takes hold of the head of the menacing water creature about to attack, lifting it up into the air. His huge palm swallows its face green from algae, and the way his strong hand clenches around the abomination's skull seems almost pitifully simple, as if the wretch would be nothing more than a worm to be trampled upon. And you feel how your insides convulse with nausea when the stomach-turning crunch, with which the bones shatter into pieces, reaches your ear canals, and you desperately try to swallow back the bitter bile pooling in your mouth, as, after a wet splash, you see the soft, pink flesh spilling out between the hooded monster's long fingers.

It seems that this makes the other grotesque entities understand that something more terrifying than them has arrived, and they swim back to the protective shelter of the lake with such ready submission, as if they were trying to hide from the sight of their angry king, before he would erupt into a frightening rage. Through the dread slowly bubbling under your skin, you realize that maybe this man really is their ruler, since the horde of malformed forces living in the water turned against you after he first surfaced behind the sea of mutilated bodies. And perhaps there is some woefully obvious logic in this, since the game wouldn't have allowed this new location to appear if there hadn't been an even more horrible surprise waiting for you in it. When the last of his terrified subjects finally disappears, the giant starts towards you with lazy steps, and with each passing meter it becomes more and more noticeable, how the hard muscles weave through every terrible corner of his tall figure, and suddenly it becomes painfully clear to you that even the bloodthirsty shadows skulking in the forest would offer greater safety if you threw yourself into the arms of formless darkness now.

You try to get up shaking, because you understand that you're just hanging another death flag on your forehead with your hesitation, but as soon as you put weight on your wounded leg, a bitter pain shoots into your ankle, as if someone were trying to twist your foot around its axis with their bare hands, and from the stars dancing before your eyes, you helplessly let your knees buckle and help you fall back into the mud with a dull thud. And even though you try to relieve the persistent throbbing of the white-hot pain with the air inhaled through your nose, by the time your head clears enough to be able to get yourself to move, your body, trembling with agony, is already swallowed up by the all-consuming shadow of the man towering over you, and you know that you’re done for. You don't have to turn around to know that the hooded monster has finally stalked you down, because you can see the black blanket with which his large figure covers the ground decorated with small stones and plants washed up on the shore.

You don't even dare to move for a little bit, and you feel ridiculously stupid for offering yourself on a silver platter with your person immobilized by terror. As if you were willingly present your chest to him so that he can tear out your scared, beating heart, but you can't even twitch, because, with the pounding of your pulse in your ears, the fear spreads through every inch of your body, pushing every muscle fiber into paralyzed helplessness. And you feel how the blood freezes in your veins, when a terribly sweet scent snakes its way into your nose, like the smell of the juices of rotten fruit left under the rays of the summer sun, which at the same time enters your head and covers the frightened upheaval in your skull under some inexplicable hazy fog, and tightens your stomach in a death-tight grip. Although this strange smell brings you closer to dizziness, even in the confused daze that descends upon you, you can perfectly detect when an unknown creature glides onto your shoulder with a damp springiness, then slowly slithers its way up the graceful line of your neck like a curious leech. You're unable to restrain the reflexive movement that makes you cringe in alarm under the curious touch of the uninvited guest, and even though every fiber of your body turns to stone, you raise your eyes to the intruder despite the anxiety gathering in the pit of your stomach. And when you discover the pitch-black tentacle shining with a velvety light, and the purple suckers lined up on them, which breathe unsolicited kisses to the valley of your cleavage, you yelp and charge forward to try to crawl away from the monster with such panicked clumsiness, like a wounded wild animal trying to escape from the wolf with its last breath.

However, no matter how hard you try to break free, the fear raging in your body only leads to an uncoordinated shuffling, and you fall to your stomach on the fish-smelling ground, hissing from the ache that rips through your ankle. Your mouth fills with tiny grains of wet sand, but you don't mind the sour taste on your tongue, because it penetrates your terror much more clearly when you feel the searing heat of another body behind you, seeping through the thin material of your soaked t-shirt like a contagious disease. And you know that the end of the night has arrived, because when you see a giant hand sinking into the mud next to your head, you recognize, along with the horrible delusions flooding into your mind, that you already lost your chance of survival when you waded into that damn lake.

And the newcomer doesn't leave you a moment to recover from your shock, because you just got rid of the intrusion of the sticky organ, you feel the tentacle breaking under the battered fabric of your top, and you can't stop the terrified tremor that moves into your limbs in time, when the probing caress of the feelers passes through the tense arch of your spine. The tenderness with which he traces the small valley between your shoulder blades is almost stomach-churning, because you're aware that with one careless movement, he could unfurl the row of vertebrae from under your skin like fresh peas from their shell. And you know that he only wants to lull your vigilance with the fleeting gentleness with which the appendage moves towards the line of your ribs to try to migrate to your chest, like a lover who wants to explore the lush curves of his beloved's body. And your brain, stuck in the fear of death, is relieved a little when the sleek arm finds an obstacle in the moldy ground, but the small joy that takes hold in you is pitifully short-lived, because your attacker only grabs your hips with a frustrated grunt and pulls you up with such light carelessness, which you wouldn't be able to fight even if the horrors of the night didn't weigh on your every cell like a leaden blanket. And as his fingers sink into the soft flesh, you feel that following the touch of restrained power, the mark of his hand will soon be ingrained into you with a purple color.

Still, you’re much more horrified, and goosebumps run over every defenseless inch of your body, as the clammy limb reaches your bra on its path, and a startled squeak gets stuck behind your quivering lips that is elicited from you by the attack of the slimy organ burrowing under the soft material. You don't dare tear your eyes away from the pebble shining with a dull light, which rises orphaned from a small sand dune in front of you, because you're terrified that if you follow how the monster takes what your vulnerable body offers to him unwillingly, you will sink even deeper in the muddy swamp of terror. Yet every nerve ending in you is sharpened when you feel the cold, slick flesh sliding against the soft mound of your breast. And there is something repulsively intimate about how one of the suckers latches onto your nipple with an almost insatiable hunger, as if this monster wasn't holding you in the trap of his strong body for the first time. As if he's got his hand on a delicacy, the nectar of which he has tasted at some point, and now the longing for the tantalizing aroma on his tongue would drive him forward. But your brain cannot understand why this absurd thought awakens in you, because it's unable to focus on anything other than the involuntary shiver that runs along your spine when it sucks the sensitive skin that has become its prey with an almost playful lewdness. And this small act is enough for the miserable moan, that has been crawling up your throat on foul feet until now, to finally break through your mouth.

And as if this one sound would feed the horrible man's unquenchable greed, for you shudder in horror, as another tentacle wanders over the nervously heaving line of your belly with slow laziness, and for a terrible moment it just flirtatiously skims along the waistline of your pants. But his patience doesn't last long, because he pushes under your jeans with an almost violent want, and you don't even have time to react, the limb sinks under the damp material of your panties with such insidious speed. Your consciousness can't keep up with the siege on your body, but it still fills you with agony as the lush flame of desire flares up in your stomach, as one of the suckers closes around your clit. And the muddled whine that creeps up your trachea is unfamiliar even to your own ears, when the wet pressure increases around the sensitive bundle of nerves, because you would rather bite your own tongue in shame, but the shock that rolls over you is too strong to resist the pull of the sensation.

But when you feel the feeler gliding between the silky petals and almost curiously circling the entrance of your pussy throbbing with scorching heat, then the fire of protest rekindles in you, and you set your hands on the damp ground to brace yourself against the beast. But even though your unexpected opposition gives you momentum, it feels like you hit a concrete wall, the man's chest swelling with hard muscles press against your back with such unshakable confidence, and you become aware painfully soon what kind of fun you've made him have, when the hardness that bulges in his crotch pushes against your bottom. And he, perhaps mistakenly, perhaps on purpose, sees your pathetic attempt as an invitation, and the deep, throaty groan rings in your ears, with which he thrusts his cock against you with impatient fervor, like a damned animal ready to mate. And as his huge hand clamp down on your hips with an almost vise-like force, even the stray idea of escape suddenly seems like a ridiculously far-fetched dream, because his fingers will crush all your fragile bones to dust before letting you get lost into the night. But even though the icy poison of dread sneaks into your every brain cell, you know you have to take flight, since the goal hasn't changed. You have to survive. And if you stay here, you voluntarily count down the minutes until the moment of your death, which, no matter what sweet torment the game promises, you know it's coming.

And as if he would sense that he cannot drive away the stillborn idea of resistance from you with his insidious tactics, that hurtful, syrupy smell appears again, which fills your nose with such a vicious intrusion that you have no chance to understand what is happening, because as soon as the dark fog spreads over your brain, the burning tingle that sends liquid flames into your core saturates every inch of you. An almost drunken intoxication settles on you, and it's only a dull fear in the back of your mind that he might be using some kind of pheromones to deter you from running away, but even though you recognize the diabolical method with which he traps you, you're no longer able to pull yourself together. The desperate demand of lust stirs up in you too strongly, and suddenly it doesn't seem alarming at all, as the tip of the tentacle that ventured into your underwear teasingly slips into your wet heat just for a moment. And you don't even have enough common sense to understand how terribly pitiful it is that you willingly squeeze your trembling body against the stranger like a bitch in heat.

And if the hooded man didn't suddenly freeze over you, you wouldn't even notice what was happening around you, because his presence settles on every single one of your senses, as if someone would drip hot wax on you, slowly closing you in an impenetrable shell, condemning you to eternal lustful suffering. But as vehemently as he started, your attacker ends his torturous game as abruptly, and as the impenetrable veil of the treacly essence in your head is inexplicably replaced by the metallic smell of blood, then your consciousness is able to clear. And although it takes a few excruciating moments before your brain is finally capable of receiving the stimuli from the outside world, then you can hear quite well the pain-filled, enraged groan that breaks out of the monster's mouth, as a large knife lands in the sand with a dull thud a few short seconds later.

And there is nothing tender about the way the long appendages terrorizing you disappear and one hand smoothes on your back to pin you down to the ground, almost ramming you into the cold embrace of the wet soil, and for a moment the air is forced from your lungs, as his huge palm spreads between your shoulder blades with warning roughness. And you understand the silent instruction even without words, and the revived stabbing of fear escaping into your limbs helps to force you into corpse-like immobility. And that's when you hear the soft crunch of the autumn leaves, as something treads through them to sneak cautiously closer to you in the distance. Your frightened gaze is immediately fixed on the trees rising beyond the shore, but for a tense second, you see nothing but darkness shrouded in eerie silence. However, the man notices what you don't, and his robust figure towers over you so possessively, like a rabid animal protecting its prey, and you don't even feel like more than a piece of meat, which the cruel world of the game has turned into such an irresistible reward.

"Get the fuck back into the lake, König!" A deep voice breaks through the heavy quietness of the forest, and you would recognize Johnny's hoarse baritone out of a thousand, because you have been lucky enough to taste the danger of its deceptive bloodlust too many times. But now, as the outline of his body unfolds from under the black veil of shadows among the vegetation, you recognize the murderous anger, the icy tension of which sits in the line of his broad shoulders. And although you only see a distant figure moving out of the corner of your eye, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach immediately tells you that Simon is the one who stalks through the tangle of wild bushes like a big cat about to pounce. "She's ours."

And you can feel on your back how that angry voice resonates through the chest of the beast holding you down, with which he finally responds to the appearance of the uninvited visitors. And for a minute that seems like an eternity, nothing happens, and being stuck in this horrible anticipation, the panic awakens in you, which makes your brain finally able to form meaningful thoughts, and you can spot that tiny little detail that has been resting in front of your nose until now so happily. Because the man's hand is still resting in front of you, digging into the mud, and when you see the row of red beads adorning the thick wrist, the spark of recognition lights up in your head. After all, this terrible place doesn't place anything unnecessarily, and the crimson glimmer that brings the bracelet to life under the silvery rays of the moonlight cannot be a mere coincidence. This is a clue, and perhaps this whole horrible torture has prepared this moment. And you feel in your gut that you have to get it.

Therefore, taking advantage of the fact that the hooded creature is centering all its attention on the enemy hiding in the thick of the trees, one of your hands moves with cautious slowness to crawl toward the jewel, and every single one of your senses is keenly focusing to see when will the creature above you, who is becoming more and more furious, notice what you’re preparing in such great secrecy. And as your fingers get caught in the thin cord of the precious object, you look up in terror at the behemoth above you, and the pounding of your heart in your ears quiets down slightly when you see how unceasingly it scans the emptiness behind the thick trunks. And you only see it in your periphery, as something with a metallic glint shoots out from the infinity of the forest, and that's enough for the tentacles lurking above you to act on their own, wild with rage, certainly working to save their owner from an attack intended to be fatal. However, this one act unleashes all hell, because the monster suddenly loses its patience and launches forward with an aggressive roar like a demonic beast thirsty for blood, and he doesn't even notice how the bracelet is torn off him as he pushes forward toward his opponents who are hiding behind the vegetation.

And you know that you have no time to waste, because it's only a matter of time before the bloodshed unfolds and you become an unwilling participant, from which there will be no way out, only certain death and another miserable awakening in the back seat of the car. So, forcing the will into your limbs, you push yourself up onto your knees, and a series of dark spots swim into your vision, as a knife-like pain shoots into your ankle even from this harmless movement. But you swallow the scream that is about to escape your lips, because if you draw the attention of these scumbags to you now, all your chances of escape will be gone. That's why, overcoming the throbbing ache, you reach towards the pearls scattered in the sand, and as you collect the ruby spheres in your palm, they glow up in red, leaving behind a cool tingling sensation. The smoldering light travels along your arm, and as if guided by an invisible force, reaches your tortured leg, and you watch in amazement as the bruises drawn by the violence disappear from the skin in the wake of the faint glow. It takes a second for you to realize what has happened, and when you notice the sounds of the fight unfolding in the forest, you hastily put your treasure in the safety of your pocket. You'll have time to wonder what the hell is going on when you finally manage to disappear from your pursuers again.

That's why you just spring up nimbly and head towards the multitude of trees, hoping that the battle, drowned in increasingly violent shouts, will drag on long enough for them to lose track of you. Because the night is still long, and you're quite sure that no matter where your path leads, more horrors will be waiting for you, because this damned place will do everything to lock you in the glass cage of its fictional world. But with the map and the pearls in your pocket, the hope, that you might live to see the dawn and you get out of here, finally rekindles in you.

[coochiequeens]

It's never too late to expose the damage created by abusers and those who did nothing to stop abuse.

Ask Not: The Kennedys and the Women They Destroyed by Maureen Callahan review – a lacerating exposé

The journalist’s sickening account of how generations of Kennedys casually abused the women around them with impunity is a timely reminder of the dangers posed by damaged men who crave power

Peter Conrad Mon 8 Jul 2024

“Ask not,” said President Kennedy as he rallied young Americans to volunteer for national service in his inaugural address, “what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.” Kennedy had a stricter rule for the women in his life, as journalist Maureen Callahan reveals in her lacerating exposé: asking nothing in return, they were expected to do what their commander-in-chief required, which meant supplying him with sex whenever and wherever he fancied.

As a senator, JFK tried out his priapic power by impregnating a 15-year-old babysitter and positioning an aide beneath his desk to fellate him while he multitasked in his office. As president, he ushered White House secretaries upstairs after work for brief, brusque sessions of copulation and rewarded them with a post-coital snack of cheese puffs; at one lunchtime frolic in the basement swimming pool he instructed a young woman to orally relieve the tensions of a male crony and looked on in approval as she obeyed. His wife, Jackie, whom he infected with a smattering of venereal ailments, lamented that his assassination deprived her of the chance to vent her rage at him. Nevertheless, she embraced his naked body before it was placed in a casket at the Dallas hospital, bestowing a final, perhaps frosty kiss on his penis.

See rest of article

By Sian Cainun 7 Jul 2024 23.38 EDTShare

The daughter of Nobel prize winner Alice Munro, Andrea Robin Skinner, has alleged that her stepfather sexually abused her as a child, and that her mother stayed with him even after he admitted to the abuse.

Skinner revealed the allegations in an essay and a news article in Canada’s Toronto Star on the weekend, writing about how her stepfather, Gerald Fremlin, began sexually assaulting her in 1976 when she was nine years old and he was in his 50s.

She alleged that Fremlin got into a bed where she was sleeping at her mother’s home in Clinton, Ontario, and sexually assaulted her. Skinner told her father, James Munro, whom she says did not tell Munro.

Over the following years, Skinner says Fremlin propositioned her, exposed himself to her, and “told me about the little girls in the neighbourhood he liked”. Skinner said he stopped assaulting her when she became a teenager, but she developed bulimia, insomnia and migraines, which she attributed to the abuse.

In 2005, Skinner went to the police. Fremlin, then 80, was charged with indecent assault against Skinner and pleaded guilty. He received a suspended sentence and two years’ probation. Munro stayed with Fremlin until he died in 2013.

Munro, who was regarded as one of the greatest short-story writers of all time and won the Nobel prize for literature in 2013, died last month at the age of 92.

See rest of article

[infectiouspiss]

Sorry to say but f***** is a TERF dogwhistle

what word? sorry what word is that ?? you've censored it too much what is it?? how am i meant to understand this?

is it faggot? or is it one of these?

family, future, Friday, Father, forest, Friend, famous, flower, finger, fiesta, faking, flying, figure, fourth, fringe, flange, frozen, forget, Fabian, filter, France, flight, fallen, famine, female, fiscal, fierce, French, feline, fridge, fiance, fetish, finish, Foster, factor, fluffy, fiddle, fusion, follow, farmer, flirty, feeder, facade, felony, fuller, fisher, fright, failed, flavor, falter, finale, fabric, falcon, fedora, fungus, frosty, fumble, feeble, forces, fester, floral, fondle, filthy, fellow, feisty, fetter, floppy, freeze, finder, frying, facing, Fatima, frenzy, finest, finals, fondue, fuming, fibula, fuhrer, frizzy, fruits, fossil, faucet, faster, floozy, folded, fodder, fabled, flossy, footer, fandom, fiasco, furrow, formed, fading, flagon, flurry, firing, frayed, frigga, foible, frappe, frugal, fruity, foodie, frilly, filmed, futile, funnel, frolic, formal, fueler, filled, fluent, Fresno, fibber, feared, fillet, fueled, fickle, Franco, fixing, fascia, fouled, fuzzed, format, fuddle, freely, filing, fraise, facial, fenian, flimsy, fecund, faller, Fijian, folate, ferret, fleece, feeler, foment, fledge, fasten, fennel, fabler, freaky, favism, funded, floats, footed, forced, favour, Fulton, folder, Faisal, frisky, flakey, faille, flawed, flabby, Frisch, froggy, frigid, flitch, farrow, feller, feuder, Fungia, fathom, Freyja, fizzle, frater, foetus, farina, flatus, fatten, flared, facies, fomite, Fields, flaunt, faulty, foully, famish, fipple, feudal, fibrin, forage, fences, filler, fowler, frowzy, fender, fracas, facile, fresco, fixate, folium, friary, fanion, faired, flyers, fidget, Fulica, frowsy, frothy, flinch, fusser, forego, furled, fakery, falsie, fugler, flocks, Fornax, flukey, fitful, fervor, foaled, forint, fusing, fillip, fasces, Frazer, fellah, forged, flinty, Fukien, frieze, fallow, footle, forbid, flacon, fluted, funder, flavin, felled, funest, fungal, fervid, florid, formic, forger, flanch, ferlie, former, filial, flicky, Fatiha, flyboy, Fenrir, fugato, fulfil, Fulani, finely, fatism, fantan, framed, finery, finnan, fornix, fondly, facula, fescue, fanned, foison, firmly, fetich, fulmar, faisan, flatly, Fawkes, funker, faucal, flashy, Fortaz, flyway, Faunus, fealty, frivol, Florio, facund, feebly, frijol, ferine, faerie, fairly, fardel, furred, foeman, foetal, firkin, flexor, firsts, Friuli, formol, fecula, flicks, foetor, fooler, fucoid, faeces, Frisia, fleshy, fundus, foiled, frumpy, festal, furcal, featly, furane, flamen, frumps, framer, Fugard, ferial, floret, Fallot, fusain, fussed, filago, fanged, floury, farcer, Fennic, floaty, furore, frazil, folksy, Ferber, forked, ferule, frills, forrad, finial, felloe, fulgid, flaxen, foozle, Frunze, fawner, ferned, fencer, fettle, feijoa, ferric, faecal, fauces, Flagyl, Faroes, fakeer, fleecy, fibril, filmic, foxily, fogged, funrun, furfur, FinCEN, friesz, flunky, fatwah, fallal, Fermat, fenced, fulgor, forcer, Fergon, Feifer, Finnic, Fenusa, felted, Florey, feodal, feodum, flexed, frypan, Feosol, Franck, fringy, foetid, fugain, fusers, Fafnir, fulham, fylfot, funada, faquir, futons, fumier, fedish, fuerte, fowled, fizgig, fuling, or furors?

[awesomelittleprincessjess]

Helen's Uni Diary: Year Two

September - Back to Basics

Spill the beans, diary! Nikki and I plotted a full-fledged age regression for Jasmine. Imagined her as a teen, then slowly… even younger. September was teen vibes. Shopping spree for cute school-like outfits - think tartan skirts, knee-high socks, and adorable blouses.

October - Autumn Antics

October's treat? The age play went deeper. Got Jasmine hooked to cartoons and sleepovers. Nikki even did these hilariously juvenile braids! Picture this: Jasmine, in pigtails, clutching a teddy, having a Saturday cartoon binge.

November - Frosty Frolics

Snowy days are for young fun, right? Slid down the age slope further with Jasmine building her first snowman. In a kiddish red coat, mittens, and a beanie, she looked straight out of a children’s winter book.

December - Christmas Craziness

December had to be special. Painted Jasmine as a giddy child awaiting Santa. Her in fuzzy pajamas, leaving milk and cookies, and sleeping under the Christmas tree? Priceless!

January - Playtime Ploys

New year, new plot! Nikki and I pushed Jasmine into more childlike fun. Jump ropes, hopscotch, and dolls. Watching her jump in a poofy jumper with ankle socks and Velcro shoes? A trip down memory lane!

February - Valentine’s Ventures

Went all cupid-crazy for Jasmine! Arranged a kiddie Valentine's party. Picture a room full of hearts, giggles, and kiddish games. Jasmine, in a pink ruffled dress, was the centre of all mushy mischief.

March - Dressy Delights

Alright, diary, March was BIG! Sent Jasmine off to primary school. The hard bit? Convincing the school she was ‘special’. A bit of sneaky hypnosis, and voila! Took her shopping for her uniform - a pastel blue gingham dress, white ankle socks, and black Mary Janes. Getting her in the school spirit? Hypnosis played its part, making her believe she was the school's newbie.

April - Easter Escapades

Easter was classic kiddo fun. The garden was all eggs and giggles. Jasmine, in a bunny-themed dress, hunting with more enthusiasm than any kid on the block? Snap-worthy moments all the way!

May - Sun, Sand, and Surprises

Sun’s out? Beach day! Jasmine, playing with her pink mermaid bucket and spade, wearing a childish one-piece with ruffled edges? Oh, and let’s not forget that messy ice-cream face. She was the beach's darling cherub.

June - Festival Frolics

June’s jive? Making Jasmine the youngest at the summer fest. Dressed in a daisy frock with a matching sun hat, she danced around, spreading childlike cheer everywhere.

July - Movie Mayhem

July's jam? Kids’ movie marathons! Got Jasmine in a kiddie cinema, watching animated classics. Popcorn fights, laughter, and her in a polka-dotted dress? Cinema's tiniest diva.

August - Sweet Endings

August's endnote? Reflecting on the whirlwind year, turning Jasmine from teen to toddler. But hey, diary, the journey isn’t over. Nikki and I have wilder plans, trust. Stick around!

[loststarphounix]

Soudam Week - Day 6: Winter & Warmth

A/N: the random generator landed in the middle of these two, so I combined them and it worked nicely lol

my personal headcanon of Kazuichi with in a poly ship is in here, but it’s a blink and miss kinda deal.

Day 6: Winter and Warmth

Winter was Gundham’s favorite season.

The snow falling in the woods was the most enchanting sight. And seeing in backdropped behind his paramour, who looked ethereal in the soft buttery yellow light of the desk lamp, took his breath away.

It had been a wonderful day, their entire class on vacation in the mountains to experience the temples and winter festivals outside city limits. Many had no experience it before, so it was mystifying to watch them all shes their mortal concerns and frolic and enjoy life as the children that they were.

Even as it grew colder and the wind blew harsher, they still refused to leave the fantastical vision that their minds conjured until the approaching darkness finally forced them to flee into their temporary realms.

The cold never bothered Gundham, for he is it’s master and it would not make him succumb to its will. But his love, who was the very embodiment of the sun and summer, could not say the same and was quicker to leave their companions behind in a mad dash for warmth.

Gundham was one of the last few to come in and by that time, night had completely fallen. His compatriots milled about in the large sitting room, with his paramour standing out amongst them like a giant pink beacon, cuddled in Nekomaru’s lap with his eyes closed like a content house cat.

He shook his head, fondness making his head swim. Of course his Little Sun would go to their shared companion in a bid to siphon heat.

“Finally done playing Frosty?” Kazuichi greeted, half lidded eyes fluttering to glance up at the breeder.

Gundham chuckled and his smirk softened at the corners. “My commune with the spirits of this mountains has been a successful endeavor. And now I seek to retreat to our shared lair.”

The other gave a sleepy hum, probably too lethargic to get the hint. Luckily, the bigger teen seemed to understand, for he gathered the mechanic in his arms before gently handing him over to the goth’s waiting arms.

Mouthing a quiet ‘thank you’ and giving a fleeting kiss to his forehead, Gundham retreated and started to make his way upstairs, only pausing to say tonight to the Dark Queen and their other shared companions.

Entering and closing their shared room was a bit awkward, but he managed without dropping the other. As he placed him on the bed, Gundham moved to go and get dressed for bed, when the other suddenly struck out and wrapped his arms and legs around his body like some kind of demon.

They both crashed onto the bed, air leaving the breeder’s body as the other maneuvered himself so that he was entangled with the other. Gundham laid there, taking in the mass of body heat the other radiated and soon felt his own body relaxing and his breathing began to deepen.

Nudging pink hair aside, he leant down to press his nose against the juncture of his love’s neck, before following him into the realm of sleep.

[nancypullen]

Halloween Eve

I haven't posted much about my excitement over Halloween. I figured everyone is sick of hearing me talk about it. But never, ever doubt that I'm counting the hours until the streets are filled with happy children, generous adults, and the pure magic that is All Hallow's Eve.

Our holiday here in Maryland looks different than it did in Tennessee. There, I'd decorate the yard and porch and my sweet friend Vicky would come over. We'd spend the evening laughing and handing out candy to kids. We did that together for twenty years. Here in Maryland the mister and I get to walk around the grandgirl's neighborhood with her, and let me tell you, it is fun. Her neighborhood does Halloween right, it reminds me of the Halloweens of my childhood. Hordes of children running house to house in costume, laughing, screaming from minor scares, and having the best time. Adults walk along behind, talking, laughing, and enjoying the fun. It's safe, it's wholesome, and it's absolutely delightful. I'm really excited about our Halloween! We've been watching Halloween shows together, so sharing the big night together is only right. She really enjoyed the dipped strawberry ghosties I made the last weekend.

Two things will make this Halloween fabulous - it's supposed to be chilly and we get to bring the grandgirl home with us. She's got no school on November 1st (smart school) and what better place to spend a free day than at Grancy's house? Autumn is really showing off around here and I couldn't love it more. No matter which window I pass in this house, I get a beautiful view of jewel tones.

Our bedroom...

the kitchen...

the grandgirl's room...

my craft room...

isn't it wonderful?

Of course, I brought in plenty of pumpkins and mums. They are CHEAP up here!

Geez, of course I left a milk jug on the porch when I snapped that photo. I'd just watered the mums, got distracted, and now it's part of history. This one is messy too - the shadow of my big head, leaves everywhere before they were raked up. I don't care, it just screams FALL!

Those big pots of mums? Most of them were four dollars. Some of them were just two dollars! There's a guy just down the road who grows them for commercial sales but he also lets locals purchase from him. Last Saturday he marked all of the four dollar mums down to two dollars so I went back for more!

These six pots were just $12 total! Those pink Sheffield mums will be planted in the front garden. They're gorgeous.

I replaced the summer impatiens with mums and now Sassafras Woods is dressed for the season.

Everywhere I go around town is a feast for the eyes.

Turning onto our little street is a treat, too.

And when I pull into our driveway, get out of the car, and look up...it's dazzling!

I just can't get enough. I believe Lucy Maud Montgomery gave Anne of Green Gables the best words for it.

The only thought that makes it possible to loosen my grip on October and autumn is the promise of a cold, snowy winter. Maryland doesn't necessarily promise that, but the Farmers' Almanac is giving me hope. Autumn is still my first love, but a frosty winter is some comfort while I mourn the end of all of this glorious color. Come on, Jack Frost, glitter my world!

But I'm getting ahead of myself, I can't worry about the winter forecast when my high holiday is just hours away. I can't wait to frolic with the kids and listen to their shouts of glee while they enjoy their big night. I'll wear my witch hat, a big fake witchy nose, and this sweatshirt.

Would you believe that I have a job interview in the morning? Yep, when I received the email inviting me for an in-person interview I was given a choice of two days and Halloween felt lucky. It may be hard for me to contain my excitement

Again, they should probably know who they're dealing with up front. I mean, I won't wear my witch hat or anything...yet. That's what's happening around the Pullen Patch right now. I'm trying to act normal while Halloween is just hours away, I get to spend it with my favorite little witch, and I'm trying to hold on to every last bit of the gorgeous color and fluttering leaves. I have nothing against November, but let's all admit that it represents the end of autumn and the start of a lot of work for women. I'm already tired from cooking Thanksgiving dinner and decorating the Christmas tree and I haven't started yet. The scariest thing you'll hear on Halloween is that Christmas is just 55 days away.

I've purchased four small gifts so far. I am way behind. Way behind. This may be the year everyone gets socks. Who doesn't like a nice, soft pair of socks? Gahhh, I'm old. Anyway, I hope that wherever you are you are cooking up some Halloween fun. If answering the door every five minutes and passing out candy isn't your style, I highly recommend popping popcorn and watching a favorite scary movie. Sleepy Hollow with Johnny Depp is one of my favorites. I also find joy in some of the good ol' Disney favorites like Halloweentown or The Worst Witch. Not scary, just fun. Whatever you're doing when the veil thins on Halloween night, I hope it makes your heart sing.

Sending out so much love on this beautiful fall evening. Stay safe, stay well, and have FUN! XOXO, Nancy

[dragonbanexxi]

The Great Bronze Conspiracy

***!!!NOT CANON COMPLIANT!!!***

Aegon Targaryen x OC Targaryen Royce

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two very different men sit across from each other, with calculating eyes studying the other diligently.

One dressed in an earthy emerald doublet, with the aurora a poised peacock. The other adorned in his bronze armor encrypted with sacred runes for protection and good fortune.

Two very different men with one distinct mutual hatred for the infamous Rogue Prince.

“You’re a fool if you think there isn’t any better offers for my grandsons hand.” The Hightower man drawls. Eliciting a tight smirk on his companions face.

“You’re a fool if you think if you think you can crown the little princeling king with only Lannister gold and very few allies.” Ser Gerold rebuttals back.

“Marry the prince to my niece.” The Bronze Knight says gruffly. “The boy will become king and my niece his queen. She is also just as much of the blood of the dragon as the rest of her paternal family. Wed them and together we will finally put an end to Daemon Targaryen once and for all.”

The Lord Hightower’s eyes shine with contentment at that last statement. It’s been his greatest desire to get rid of the Rogue Prince for years now. A cocky smile breaks out on his face as he offers his hand to Ser Gerold .

“Very well.” They shake hands firmly.

“Let us join our houses. My grandson with your niece.”

“Long may they reign” Ser Gerold says with a large smile.

“Long may they reign.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: Amélia

“Uuughhh” an annoyed frosty haired girl groans. “Septa Minnie! I’ve been practicing my good posture and walk all morning.”

Taking off the stacked books from on top of her head, the young lady gave her septa a girlish pout. Her brown eyes shift to the large window, peering outside. Taking in a sunny pasture, with butterflies flying about and birds chirping happily. The lady’s tender heart yearned to frolic about through the flower beds barefoot.

“It’s such a lovely day. Why can’t we go pick flowers at the meadow?”

The woman of faith pursed her thin lips at her mentee. Tsking at the young ladies childish suggestion.

“You are a young lady now Amélia. Soon to be ten and six. Picking flowers is for little girls.”

Amélia Royce turns away from Septa Minnie. Not wanting her to see the displeasure on her lovely face.

“Scarlett Redfort still picks flowers.” The Lady of Runestone grumbles under breathes.

The only daughter of Lord Griffin Redfort who was the younger brother of the actual lord of the Redfort Keep. Scarlett Redfort is stunning girl with the loveliest midnight shade of raven hair and riveting ice blue eyes that shone with wildness. Amélia didn’t particularly care for the Lady Redfort; she found her to be snobbish. Yet the Runestone girl had to admit Scarlett was a talented kisser. Both girls having had many intense kisses with each other. Usually after finishing a whole bottle of cherry wine.

Septa Minnie manages to hear Amélia talking under her breath. Whacking her wooden stick harshly on the young maidens hands.

‘Fuck you’ Amélia curses the bitter wench in her mind. Not daring to say it out loud. Instead honey brown irises glare daggers at the rigid septa.

Damn that woman’s spectacular hearing. Septa Minnie’s ears have caused Amélia a great number of lashes on her hands throughout the years; for being impertinent at the worst times. In retrospect Amélia does have a naturally combative nature. Preferring to debate and argue her way out trouble. In truth the girl brings it upon herself the majority of the time.

“Scarlett Redfort is a girl with a horrid lack of manners and loose promiscuous morals.” Her voice stern. “Besides the Lady Redfort isn’t the one marrying into the royal family.”

Well that much was true about the Lady Scarlett Redfort. At the age of ten and four, she had been found kneeling infront of a Westerling boy who was squiring for her father. It didn’t take long to decipher what they were doing. Given that the raven haired girl had her delicate hands down the Westerling boys pants. The golden haired boy had been sent home immediately after.

“Have they even accepted the match?.” She huffs changing the subject before she says something else that’ll get her hit.

“Papa never tells me anything.”

“Well I’ll have you know little lass, the lord hand is quite impressed with your dowry.” The gruff voice of her Uncle-Pa spoke behind her. She turns around with a large grin on her pretty face, engulfing her Uncle-Pa in a bear hug.

The middle aged man sports an amused grin and is adorned in his shinning bronze hunting armor. His beard a fusion black and grey hairs tickling her temple as he hugged his ward back.

“But what truly sealed the deal is your Valyrian look my dear.” The man says as he ruffles the girls hair.

Amélia feels her eye twitch.

Despising the fact that it’s true. The Lady of Runestone has the Valyrian look. Tall and regal frame, with long, thick, frosty platnuim curls cascading down her back.

Her eyes however did not shine that otherworldly violet. Instead they rang true to her Firstmen heritage, gleaming the color of the warmest purest whiskey.

Smoothing out her ruffled hair she says,

“How tragic that they are promised a Valyrian lady, but they will instead end up with a barbaric Firstmen savage woman.” She jokes, snorting unladylike.

Causing Septa Minnie to look at her with vexation.

“Well you will need to learn your graces lass. The last thing we need, is you scaring off the Hightowers. I worked hard to secure this match.”

Amélia rolls her bratty brown eyes.

Her uncle and her Septa share a conspiring look.

“Give us a moment Septa Minnie” the woman curtesy’s her way out the living parlor. Leaving the two Royce’s alone.

“Must you always give an attitude to your Septa?” He sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.

The young lady smiles innocently. “I just wanted to pick flowers” shrugging her shoulders.

Her uncle isn’t at all amused. Peering at her with his dark brown eyes.

“She has point Méli.” He sits himself in one of the cushioned seats.

“You will be the Queen someday.”

“A treasonous statement Rhaenyra Targaryen is the heir apparent.” She drawls uninterested in the same conversation they’ve had a million times over.

“Have you forgotten what Daemon Targaryen did to your mother?” He growls angrily at her.

Guilt begins to swarm her belly. She hadn’t forgotten what her sire did to her dear mother. The monstrous Rouge Prince had bashed his wife’s head in with a rock until she bleed to death. Amélia had been a mere babe when her mama had murdered. Though Ser Gerold had told her about the Lady Rhea’s tragic demise, making sure to go into great detail.

Suddenly Amélia feels her breakfast in her throat, the urge to vomit making her wheezy.

The hatred the girl developed for her sire afterwards is a vast raging one. The beauty may not remember her mother, yet her loyalty for Rhea Royce is unwavering.

‘I hate you Daemon Targaryen!’ The voice inside Amélia’s mind says with antipathy. ‘And I hate your daughters!’

Ser Gerold is her true father. She prefers him anyway. When her father walked away from her attempting to steal her birthright, Ser Gerold defended her in the Eerie. She owes her Uncle-Pa her life. Amélia will always heed his advice and follow his directions.

That is why her Uncle- Papa, has secured a betrothal between her and the Prince Aegon. Together they will secure his claim to the Iron Throne and bring Daemon Targaryen to justice.

“No papa. I haven’t forgotten.” Her voice small. Sad brown eyes filling up with glossy pent up tears.

Ser Gerold pats her head with his large hand in a fatherly fashion.

“Your mother will be avenged my dear. Daemon Targaryen will pay for his crime against our house.” Her uncles voice void of its usual gruffness. Oddly soft.

“He has wed the Princess Rhaenyra. Any ally of his is no friend of ours.” Ser Gerold raises a sharp brow at her.

She nods her head in agreement.

“You will be the Queen one day. It will be your mothers bloodline that will continue on, come what may.”

“Come what may… “ she parrots back at him. Not all liking the sound of that sentence.

A cheery smile appears on his face.

“Why don’t you begin to ready yourself for the ball at Gulltown lass?” He suggests eliciting a happy grin from his teary eyed niece.

“Oh! Yes it is tonight isn’t it? Oh I have the loveliest new powder blue gown just perfect for the ball tonight!” Amélia says excitedly wiping her eyes dry with her long sleeve.

Giving her uncle-pa a daughterly kiss on cheek, the lady ran out the palor and to her chamber. All thoughts about revenge were pushed to the side. Tonight she is going to dance and dance until her feet give out.

And look her mighty best while doing so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starting off this chapter light! This fic will have more politics compared to my other two fics. I hope you guys enjoy Amélia! She’s going to be quite the spitfire. Thank you guys ❤️ Comments are always welcomed.

[dolliecworpse]

hi raven, i hope you are having a lovely day! can i have a mix of title suggestions based on being a saint/guardian (or anything angelic that might sound better, those are just my preferences) of the sky, forest or snow? sorry if thats a lot! you dont have to do all of it! <3

🪦 ⌕ guardian of the sky themed titles ｡｡｡

(pronoun) who soars through the clouds , (pronoun) who befriends the sky , (pronoun) who takes flight , the misty one , the one of the mist , the foggy one , the one of the fog , the one of the big blue sky , (pronoun) who dances as the rain falls , the one born of sky and clouds

🪦 ⌕ guardian of the forest themed titles ｡｡｡

(pronoun) who frolics through the grass , (pronoun) who befriends the forest , the lover of trees , (pronoun) who gently touches the morning dew , (pronoun) who dances as the autumn leaves fall , the one born of trees and grass

🪦 ⌕ guardian of the snow themed titles ｡｡｡

(pronoun) who is bitten by frost , (pronoun) who befriends the snow , the one of frosty wisdom , (pronoun) who is icy , the icy one , (pronoun) who frolics though the snow , (pronoun) who dances as the snowflakes fall , the one born of snow and ice

🩸 ⌕ note ｡｡｡ WAUGH ty for being so kind and also calling me by one of my names?? that like never happens MDMSMS. aniways i hope i captured the essence of what you were looking for? i’m not realli sure 😅 but if you’re not satisfied, i do have a list of angelic titles here and nature titles here. ty for requesting and sorri it took a bit!!

[shesamonkey]

Dani Ella

Eveline (Fischer) Novakovic https://www.mariowiki.com/Eveline_Novakovic

Portrayals Diddy Kong Racing – Pipsy Donkey Kong 64 – Tiny Kong, Candy Kong Diddy Kong Pilot (2001) – Candy Kong, Dixie Kong Donkey Kong Country 2 (Game Boy Advance) – Dixie Kong Donkey Kong Country 3 (Game Boy Advance) – Dixie Kong (uncredited)

Works Donkey Kong Country – Music/Sound (with David Wise) Donkey Kong Country 3: Dixie Kong's Double Trouble! – Music / Sound Effects Donkey Kong Land III – Music / Sound Donkey Kong 64 – Development Team Donkey Kong Country 2 (Game Boy Advance) – Sound Effects

Song credits

Donkey Kong Country Simian Segue — Composition/arrangement Candy's Love Song — Composition/arrangement Voices of the Temple — Composition/arrangement Forest Frenzy — Composition/arrangement Treetop Rock — Composition/arrangement Northern Hemispheres — Composition/arrangement Ice Cave Chant — Composition/arrangement Donkey Kong Country 3: Dixie Kong's Double Trouble! Fanfare — Composition/arrangement Northern Kremisphere — Composition/arrangement Hangin' at Funky's — Composition/arrangement Sub-Map Shuffle — Composition/arrangement Swanky's Sideshow — Composition/arrangement Cranky's Showdown — Composition/arrangement Showdown Win — Composition/arrangement Showdown Lose — Composition/arrangement Stilt Village — Composition/arrangement Mill Fever — Composition/arrangement Jangle Bells — Composition/arrangement Frosty Frolics — Composition/arrangement Treetop Tumble — Composition/arrangement Enchanted Riverbank — Composition/arrangement Hot Pursuit — Composition/arrangement Water World — Composition/arrangement Cascade Capers — Composition/arrangement Nuts and Bolts — Composition/arrangement Pokey Pipes — Composition/arrangement Rockface Rumble — Composition/arrangement Jungle Jitter — Composition/arrangement Cavern Caprice — Composition/arrangement Rocket Run — Composition/arrangement Boss Boogie — Composition/arrangement Crystal Chasm — Composition/arrangement Krematoa Koncerto — Composition/arrangement Big Boss Blues — Composition/arrangement Mama Bird — Composition/arrangement Chase — Composition/arrangement Baddies on Parade — Composition/arrangement Game Over — Composition/arrangement Donkey Kong Land III Dixie Beat — Arrangement Crazy Calypso — Arrangement Northern Kremisphere — Composition/arrangement Stilt Village — Composition/arrangement Water World — Composition/arrangement Wrinkly's Save Cave — Arrangement Mill Fever — Composition/arrangement Brothers Bear — Arrangement Enchanted Riverbank — Composition/arrangement Treetop Tumble — Composition/arrangement Hot Pursuit — Composition/arrangement Cascade Capers — Composition/arrangement Rockface Rumble — Composition/arrangement Jungle Jitter — Composition/arrangement Nuts and Bolts — Composition/arrangement Cavern Caprice — Composition/arrangement Bonus Time — Arrangement Bonus Win — Arrangement Bonus Lose — Arrangement Big Boss Blues — Composition/arrangement Baddies on Parade — Composition/arrangement Game Over — Composition/arrangement

"The above text is from the Super Mario Wiki and is available under a Creative Commons license. Attribution must be provided through a list of authors or a link back to the original article. Source: https://www.mariowiki.com/Eveline_Novakovic"

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Frosty Frolic. Chris Radko glass Christmas Ornament. Poland. Santa riding Polar ebay noelbob

[constantlyquestioningg]

it's sunny and slightly frosty bc the sun hasn't melted it yet and i want to go on a walk!!!! let me frolic with joy and whimsy!!!

[broadcastarchive-umd]

#RudyTuesday KPIX signed on the air on December 22, 1948, the first television station in Northern California as well as the 49th in the United States. Initially, channel 5's signal was transmitted from the top of the Mark Hopkins Hotel on Nob Hill. KPIX's first master control room was in the attic of the hotel (just above the "Top of the Mark" bar).

The station immediately joined CBS but also carried programming from DuMont until that network folded in 1956. It even carried programs from the short-lived Paramount Television Network, such as Frosty Frolics, Time For Beany, Cowboy G-Men and Bandstand Revue.

Pictured: KPIX mobile unit. One in a series of photos from the Rudy Bretz papers at UMD.

[market-spy]

Chillin' Trends: Camping Cooler Market Unveiled

Welcome to the cool side of outdoor adventures! Today, we’re diving into the frosty world of camping coolers, those trusty companions that keep your beverages colder than your in-laws’ stares during family gatherings. Buckle up, because we’re about to explore the not-so-icy details of the Global Camping Cooler Market Insights. No robotic jargon, just a chilled-out journey into the realm of outdoor chillers.

Frosty Figures and Growth Frolics

So, picture this — the global camping cooler market, a whopping USD 571.57 million in 2022, is on a trajectory to hit a chilly jackpot of USD 925.42 million by 2031. That’s a growth spurt of 5.5%, making you wonder if camping coolers have found the elixir of eternal coolness. Spoiler alert: they probably have.

The Cool Cast: Industry Players and Their Ice-Cool Gadgets

In the star-studded cast of camping cooler manufacturers, we have heavyweights like Yeti, Coleman, Igloo, Pelican, and Grizzly Coolers. It’s like assembling the Avengers of the chilling world, with each brand flexing its muscles in various sizes, designs, and price ranges. These cool kings are not just resting on ice blocks; they’re continually innovating with features like rotomolded construction, pressure-injected insulation, and heavy-duty latches — because who wouldn’t want a cooler with superhero capabilities?

What’s Chilling in 2024–2031?

Cool Market Snapshots

Global Market Size: It’s not pocket change — we’re talking about a market worth USD 571.57 million.

Largest Segment: Dry Camping, because who needs wet camping anyway?

Fastest Growth: Backpacking, because carrying a cooler on your back is the new fashion statement.

Growth Rate: A steady 5.5% CAGR — these coolers are on a slow and steady marathon.

Global Cool-O-Meter by Region

North America: Leading the pack with a cool 40% contribution to the total revenue. The U.S. is the cool kingpin, thanks to a steady rise in travelers seeking hiking adventures.

Asia Pacific: Surging with a compelling CAGR exceeding 8.5%. Apparently, Thailand and Cambodia are not just hot tourist spots; they’re cool camping havens.

Cooler Than Cool: Product and Application Insights

Product Forecast

Hard coolers are the rockstars, claiming 64.3% of the revenue. Meanwhile, soft coolers are the rebels, gaining popularity with their economical costs and lightweight design. And let’s not forget the “others” — smaller coolers and personal drinkware, because every camper needs a trusty hydration buddy.

For More Information:  https://www.skyquestt.com/report/camping-cooler-market

Application Analysis

Dry camping takes the crown with over 40% of the revenue. Off-road adventures are revving up, especially in developed nations where heavy-duty off-road vehicles are cooler than ever. North America is a hotbed for solo hiking and trekking, creating a demand for compact soft coolers and drinkware.

Driving Forces and Icy Roadblocks

Drivers

Rising Outdoor Recreational Activities: Because who wouldn’t want to escape the indoors and embrace the great outdoors?

Increasing Travel and Tourism: Because nothing says adventure like exploring the world with a cooler in tow.

Restraints

Price Sensitivity: High-quality coolers can burn a hole in your pocket — a real buzzkill for budget-conscious campers.

Weight and Portability: Hard coolers can be the Hulk of your camping gear — not so friendly for those seeking lightweight and portable solutions.

The Cool Battle: Top Players in the Arena

In this arena of frosty combat, Yeti, Coleman, Igloo, and Pelican Products are the heavyweight champions. Product innovation is the secret weapon, with companies vying to enhance cooler performance, durability, and user experience. Sustainability is the cool kid on the block, with a focus on recyclable materials and eco-friendly technologies.

Recent Cool Chronicles

Igloo introduces the Ultra Rugged cooler, a beast with features like a threaded drain plug and UV inhibitors. Perfect for campers who want their cooler to be as rugged as their adventures.

Yeti drops a new line of soft-sided coolers — extra-wide mouth for easy loading and unloading. Because who needs a cooler that’s harder to open than a jar of pickles?

RTIC Coolers teases a 105-quart cooler. More space for your snacks, because who likes rationing during camping trips?

Key Market Trends: More Than Just Cool

Smart Features

Coolers are getting smart — remote temperature monitoring, because checking the temperature with your hand is so last season.

Multi-Functional Coolers

Why settle for just keeping things cool? Coolers with cutting boards, built-in speakers, charging ports — because your cooler should multitask as much as you do.

Collapsible and Stackable Designs

Coolers are getting a makeover — collapsible and stackable designs for those who believe in efficiency and space-saving.

Final Chill: SkyQuest Analysis

In the grand finale, the global camping cooler market is a dynamic landscape shaped by evolving consumer preferences and technological coolness. Yeti, Coleman, and Igloo continue to rule the scene, keeping things frosty with innovations and sustainability initiatives.

So there you have it, the cool saga of camping coolers — keeping your drinks cold, your snacks fresh, and your outdoor adventures cooler than ever. Happy chilling, fellow campers!

About Us-

SkyQuest Technology Group is a Global Market Intelligence, Innovation Management & Commercialization organization that connects innovation to new markets, networks & collaborators for achieving Sustainable Development Goals.

Contact Us-

SkyQuest Technology Consulting Pvt. Ltd.

1 Apache Way,

Westford,

Massachusetts 01886

USA (+1) 617–230–0741

Email- info@skyquestt.com

Website: https://www.skyquestt.com

[sqinsights]

Chillin' Trends: Camping Cooler Market Unveiled

Welcome to the cool side of outdoor adventures! Today, we’re diving into the frosty world of camping coolers, those trusty companions that keep your beverages colder than your in-laws’ stares during family gatherings. Buckle up, because we’re about to explore the not-so-icy details of the Global Camping Cooler Market Insights. No robotic jargon, just a chilled-out journey into the realm of outdoor chillers.

Frosty Figures and Growth Frolics

So, picture this — the global camping cooler market, a whopping USD 571.57 million in 2022, is on a trajectory to hit a chilly jackpot of USD 925.42 million by 2031. That’s a growth spurt of 5.5%, making you wonder if camping coolers have found the elixir of eternal coolness. Spoiler alert: they probably have.

The Cool Cast: Industry Players and Their Ice-Cool Gadgets

In the star-studded cast of camping cooler manufacturers, we have heavyweights like Yeti, Coleman, Igloo, Pelican, and Grizzly Coolers. It’s like assembling the Avengers of the chilling world, with each brand flexing its muscles in various sizes, designs, and price ranges. These cool kings are not just resting on ice blocks; they’re continually innovating with features like rotomolded construction, pressure-injected insulation, and heavy-duty latches — because who wouldn’t want a cooler with superhero capabilities?

What’s Chilling in 2024–2031?

Cool Market Snapshots

Global Market Size: It’s not pocket change — we’re talking about a market worth USD 571.57 million.

Largest Segment: Dry Camping, because who needs wet camping anyway?

Fastest Growth: Backpacking, because carrying a cooler on your back is the new fashion statement.

Growth Rate: A steady 5.5% CAGR — these coolers are on a slow and steady marathon.

Global Cool-O-Meter by Region

North America: Leading the pack with a cool 40% contribution to the total revenue. The U.S. is the cool kingpin, thanks to a steady rise in travelers seeking hiking adventures.

Asia Pacific: Surging with a compelling CAGR exceeding 8.5%. Apparently, Thailand and Cambodia are not just hot tourist spots; they’re cool camping havens.

Cooler Than Cool: Product and Application Insights

Product Forecast

Hard coolers are the rockstars, claiming 64.3% of the revenue. Meanwhile, soft coolers are the rebels, gaining popularity with their economical costs and lightweight design. And let’s not forget the “others” — smaller coolers and personal drinkware, because every camper needs a trusty hydration buddy.

For More Information:  https://www.skyquestt.com/report/camping-cooler-market

Application Analysis

Dry camping takes the crown with over 40% of the revenue. Off-road adventures are revving up, especially in developed nations where heavy-duty off-road vehicles are cooler than ever. North America is a hotbed for solo hiking and trekking, creating a demand for compact soft coolers and drinkware.

Driving Forces and Icy Roadblocks

Drivers

Rising Outdoor Recreational Activities: Because who wouldn’t want to escape the indoors and embrace the great outdoors?

Increasing Travel and Tourism: Because nothing says adventure like exploring the world with a cooler in tow.

Restraints

Price Sensitivity: High-quality coolers can burn a hole in your pocket — a real buzzkill for budget-conscious campers.

Weight and Portability: Hard coolers can be the Hulk of your camping gear — not so friendly for those seeking lightweight and portable solutions.

The Cool Battle: Top Players in the Arena

In this arena of frosty combat, Yeti, Coleman, Igloo, and Pelican Products are the heavyweight champions. Product innovation is the secret weapon, with companies vying to enhance cooler performance, durability, and user experience. Sustainability is the cool kid on the block, with a focus on recyclable materials and eco-friendly technologies.

Recent Cool Chronicles

Igloo introduces the Ultra Rugged cooler, a beast with features like a threaded drain plug and UV inhibitors. Perfect for campers who want their cooler to be as rugged as their adventures.

Yeti drops a new line of soft-sided coolers — extra-wide mouth for easy loading and unloading. Because who needs a cooler that’s harder to open than a jar of pickles?

RTIC Coolers teases a 105-quart cooler. More space for your snacks, because who likes rationing during camping trips?

Key Market Trends: More Than Just Cool

Smart Features

Coolers are getting smart — remote temperature monitoring, because checking the temperature with your hand is so last season.

Multi-Functional Coolers

Why settle for just keeping things cool? Coolers with cutting boards, built-in speakers, charging ports — because your cooler should multitask as much as you do.

Collapsible and Stackable Designs

Coolers are getting a makeover — collapsible and stackable designs for those who believe in efficiency and space-saving.

Final Chill: SkyQuest Analysis

In the grand finale, the global camping cooler market is a dynamic landscape shaped by evolving consumer preferences and technological coolness. Yeti, Coleman, and Igloo continue to rule the scene, keeping things frosty with innovations and sustainability initiatives.

So there you have it, the cool saga of camping coolers — keeping your drinks cold, your snacks fresh, and your outdoor adventures cooler than ever. Happy chilling, fellow campers!

About Us-

SkyQuest Technology Group is a Global Market Intelligence, Innovation Management & Commercialization organization that connects innovation to new markets, networks & collaborators for achieving Sustainable Development Goals.

Contact Us-

SkyQuest Technology Consulting Pvt. Ltd.

1 Apache Way,

Westford,

Massachusetts 01886

USA (+1) 617–230–0741

Email- info@skyquestt.com

Website: https://www.skyquestt.com

[artstudioofthesmokies]

Winter frolics in the Smokies creating frosty mountain scenes! @bluegreenvacations #paintingpartygatlinburg #paintingpartypigeonforge #paintingpartysevierville #artclass #artstudioofthesmokies Artstudioofthesmokies.com #familyfun #friends @visitgatlinburg-blog @visitsevierville @visitmysmokies @pigeonforgechamber-blog

[safethaw]

Ice & Pets: Debunking The Myths

As temperatures drop, a frosty chill envelops the world, turning our surroundings into a winter wonderland. While humans cozy up with warm beverages and fuzzy blankets, our furry friends venture out, eager to frolic in the snow and ice. However, with the beauty of winter come concerns about the safety of pets, especially when it comes to ice and the products used to combat its perils. Let's debunk some of the most persistent myths surrounding ice, dogs, and the products used during the winter months. Is Ice Really Bad For Dogs? One of the most commonly asked questions by dog owners is, "Is ice bad for dogs?" Dogs love to play in the snow, and many even enjoy crunching on ice cubes, especially during hot summer months. But, is it safe? The Truth: In moderation, consuming ice or playing with it poses minimal risk to dogs. However, is ice bad for dogs? Whenever the question arises, caution is advised. Larger ice chunks can pose a choking hazard or damage a dog's teeth. Always supervise your pet and opt for smaller ice pieces or crushed ice to avoid potential risks. The Salt Dilemma: Is Salt Harmful To Canine Paws? Another prevalent concern as winter sets in revolves around the question, "Is salt bad for dogs?" The Truth: While salt in moderate amounts is not inherently harmful to dogs, the issue arises when considering the types of salt or ice melts used during winter. Traditional ice melts often contain chemicals that, when ingested, can lead to salt poisoning in dogs. Moreover, these salts can be abrasive, causing dryness, cracks, or burns on a dog's sensitive paw pads. After walks, it's essential to wipe down your dog's paws, ensuring no salt residue remains that they might lick off later. Safe Thaw: A Safer Alternative For Ice Melt Understanding the potential hazards of conventional ice melts, especially for pets, it's essential to consider safer alternatives. Safe Thaw stands out as a premier choice for those who prioritize both effectiveness and safety. Being chloride and toxin-free, Safe Thaw ensures that if your furry friend comes into contact with it, the risk of harmful ingestion is significantly reduced. Its non-corrosive properties guarantee that it won't harm surfaces, be it your industrial property or machinery. This is a breath of fresh air for pet owners who want to ensure their driveways and sidewalks are ice-free without jeopardizing their pet's safety. The science behind Safe Thaw is impressive. Its patented dual-effect compound, made of a modified crystalline amide core infused with a special glycol admixture and traction agents, ensures optimal melting performance. This concentrated formula not only assures maximum effectiveness from season to season but also offers long-term cost savings, as less product is required over time. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2uACuEGD4k Final Thoughts: Prioritizing Pet Safety In Icy Conditions We hope now you know the answer to your question- is ice bad for dogs. Winter brings a host of concerns for pet owners, from ensuring our dogs are warm enough during walks to safeguarding them from potential winter-related hazards. By being informed and debunking myths about ice and dogs, we can make better decisions that prioritize our pets' safety. Choosing products like Safe Thaw is a testament to our commitment to their well-being, ensuring that they can enjoy winter's beauty without the accompanying risks. So, the next time snowflakes dance from the sky, and ice begins to form, remember that with a little caution and the right products, winter can be a joyous season for both humans and their four-legged companions. Read the full article