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Mother gothel hentai

Author Cambrian. Flynn Rider was not a good man and he knew it. Oh sure, he had good qualities. He was handsome and charming and his roguish good looks had gotten him out of many a spot of trouble. More than that, he had a sharp mind and a quick wit. Coming up with clever ideas on the fly had gotten him out of even more trouble than his gorgeous face. And boy did Flynn get into a lot of trouble. That led right back into him acknowledging the fact that he was not a good man though. Put bluntly, Flynn Rider was a thief. Still, this last job was almost definitely his greatest yet.


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Author Cambrian. Flynn Rider was not a good man and he knew it. Oh sure, he had good qualities. He was handsome and charming and his roguish good looks had gotten him out of many a spot of trouble. More than that, he had a sharp mind and a quick wit. Coming up with clever ideas on the fly had gotten him out of even more trouble than his gorgeous face.

And boy did Flynn get into a lot of trouble. That led right back into him acknowledging the fact that he was not a good man though. Put bluntly, Flynn Rider was a thief. Still, this last job was almost definitely his greatest yet. A caper for the ages no doubt. Smirking slightly, the dashing rogue reached down and ran his hand over the satchel hanging across his chest almost lovingly. This thing was going to make his wildest dreams come true, so long as he could get away with it.

Flynn slowly peaked up over the moss covered boulder he was hidden behind, only to quickly duck back down as guards on horseback thundered past. The sun had fallen over an hour ago and the night was going strong, yet still they hunted him.

At this point, the young thief was rather tired. Letting out a low sigh, Flynn decided the coast was finally clear enough that he could move on again. Grimacing, the handsome thief slowly stood up, still half crouched as he crept along the wall of the steep hill behind him. Coming to a vine covered part of the hillside, Flynn pressed his hand against the stone for a moment in order to catch his breath.

Or at least, the young man tried to. Instead, as he put his full weight on that hand, Flynn was rather surprised to find there was no stone behind the sheet of vines. He fell right through the curtain into a cave with a yelp, landing on a soft bed of moss thankfully, leaving only his pride hurt.

A moment later and the thundering beating of hooves on ground caused Flynn to pull himself the rest of the way into the cave, leaving the vines to still right as another patrol on horseback rode past. Flynn clutched at the bag carrying his precious cargo with one hand and pressed the other against his chest, his eyes wide as he tried to calm his beating heart. His good looks and his clever mind were his two greatest weapons… but his luck had seen him through many a struggle as well. Slowly standing up, Flynn brushed his clothes off, only to realize in that moment that there was light streaming in from the other end of the cave.

Walking forward, Flynn found the source of the light to be the stars themselves, and in the foreground of the beautiful starry night he saw a tall darkened tower. He looked at the foreboding structure with some trepidation. It looked old and rundown in the dark, with vines growing down its sides and parts of its underneath exposed.

Flynn considered briefly if this was really where he wanted to make his bed, rather than trying to make for one of his safe houses elsewhere. The sounds of guards shouting picked up behind him and Flynn decided right then and there that he was NOT going back the way he came. Might as well check out the tower to see if it was a better sleeping arrangement then the cold hard ground. Gritting his teeth, the rogue moved forward, pulling a knife from his belt as he eyed the tall face of the tower.

After making sure that the bag was still secure around his body, Flynn gripped onto the exposed brick with his fingers and reached up, digging his knife into the tower and pulling himself up its face. Stubborn as all hell and arrogant to the last.

His confidence propelled him forward and eventually the dashing young man made it to the tower window. It was closed, but Flynn was nothing if not a master at getting into places he was not welcomed. A little jimmying in the right places had the latch on the inside coming undone and he was able to slowly push the wooden covers apart, revealing the inside of the tower.

Flynn slowly stepped off of the ledge into the tower proper, his eyes taking time to adjust to the darkness around him. The only light in the upper floor of the tower was coming from downstairs, but by that light he was able to make out a lived in area, much better taken care of than the outside of the structure.

More than that, there was a bed on the opposite side of the room and it was occupied with a young blonde woman. Flynn took a moment to observe her as she slept, marveling in the utterly ridiculous amount of hair she had. Shaking his head, the thief slowly padded his way across the room, past the bed and the sleeping girl and towards the stairs. He only hoped there would be a better place to tuck himself away in the lower parts of the tower. He had no intention of trying to sleep near an unknown girl who might brain him senseless when she woke to find him in her room in the morning.

The exhausted young man let out a quiet sigh as he came to the top of the stairs and a moment later he squared up his shoulders and began his descent. For someone as long-lived as her, the words held no true meaning. Gothel was the kind of woman who knew what she wanted and simply took it. And with just how beautiful she was, was it not her right? Her life had been so good that the dark haired woman had never bothered to settle down.

Her plan had been to keep her beauty pristine for as long as possible. But time makes fools of us all and despite her efforts, Gothel was no different. She fought against it for as long as she could, raging against the sheer injustice of the passage of time to no avail. The men no longer looked at her with lust but disgust, her sagging flesh and wrinkly skin and grey hair no longer attracting lovers who would fawn over her. The woman had almost fallen into despair at that point.

The old crone that Gothel became was nothing like her past beauty, gathering flowers and apples in the forest to sell in the marketplace for a pittance of coin that she then used to feed herself.

Her life was depressing and Gothel knew it. That all changed, the day she found the flower. That beautiful glowing flower had spoken to her as she approached, cradling it in her hands. She could not pluck it, would not dare do so as it told her its secrets. The song that she needed to sing was simply there in her head from one moment to the next, and when she let the words slip free from her lips one after the other, the most beautiful thing in the world happened.

She regained her youth, her vitality and most importantly, her curves. Gothel had been ecstatic, walking through town like she owned the place and basking in the once more lustful gazes of young and old men as they looked upon her, not even knowing who it was they were ogling given her sudden transformation.

A quick trip back to the flower and another song sang had fixed that right up though and a happy Gothel settled into a routine that saw her old life returned to her. She was finally able to be happy again, worshipped as she was by men and envied as she was by women. They were looking for HER flower, tearing up the forest to find it. Gothel could scarcely believe it. Gothel would not have it; she would not allow them to take away her precious gift!

In the end, it happened anyways. Tragedy struck for the beautiful woman as everyone else rejoiced at the discovery of her treasure. They stole it away in the night, took it back to the palace and saved their pathetic Queen with its wondrous magic. Meanwhile, Gothel was left high and dry. News of a child came just as Gothel was beginning to despair again.

The child was fair of hair while her parents were brunette. A spark of hope had driven Gothel to the palace. There had only been one thing to do at that point of course. Gothel had stolen the child. Gritting her teeth, the woman slammed her fist into the wooden table she was currently sat at. And now, after eighteen years, Rapunzel wanted to leave.

The girl had tried to convince her this very morning to take her to see the floating lights. Of course, Gothel knew exactly what they were. Rapunzel longed for the lights that they sent up every year on her birthday. Gothel would have to find a way to stop that longing somewhere down the line.

Instead, there was a man there. Young and absolutely gorgeous, the intruder had accidentally stuck his foot in a large pot that was right next to the stairs. Slowly, Gothel rose from her seat. Her expression was no doubt thunderous, even as she considered the strange man. Who was he? How did he get here? How dare he intrude on her home! She said none of this, mindful of the sleeping girl above her head. Bringing up his hands, the young man stepped forward, holding his palms out in a gesture meant for peace. Gothel was feeling anything but peaceful, yet as she looked at him more closely, she realized her initial assessment of gorgeous was all too right.

The home invader was incredibly handsome and he flashed a quick smile when he realized she was checking her out. Gothel blinked, abruptly realizing her cheeks were slightly rosy and there was a faint stirring in her loins. Suddenly, the young man before her was not an intruder, but instead a prospective bedmate. He was quite muscular. Still, he was watching her stare at him now, his quick smile replaced by a wide grin. The boy thought much of himself, she could see that instantly.



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