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#letter by: a mysterious customer
dickaspointed · 3 months
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𝑬𝑵- 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑱𝑬𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑳𝒀 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑰𝑹 𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑰𝑻
hyung line
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𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 , 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥
𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 , 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴
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HEESEUNG always loved playing with your legs, they were hairless, soft and smelled really good. as his fingers were doing their daily skim up and down your plush skin, his fingers got caught around little gold letters that hugged your ankle tightly. his eyes dropped from his phone, using his index to pick up the small piece of jewelry to inspect it properly. obviously caught off guard from your leg being yanked so suddenly, you laughed nervously, lowering your own phone to watch his antics.
“what is this?” Heeseung asked, rotating it around your ankle.
“i got a custom anklet with your name, cute right? it was on sale—”
you barely made it off the couch alive, your legs were thrown over Heeseung’s shoulders for hours. every gold letter of his name spinning around your ankle as he fucked you senseless into the soft cushions.
̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙ㅤ ওㅤㅤֺㅤ ⠀⠀✧ ⠀ ㅤֺㅤ ওㅤ ㅤ*̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙
JAY often rested his cheek on your full chest. whether you had a bra on or off, that was his favorite place to rest. your fingers would course through his dark hair, gently tugging at the ends as your free hand thumbed through your murder mystery book.
sometimes his boba brown eyes would look up through the valley of your breasts to ask a really stupid question just to hear himself talk, but this time something silver sparkled in his eyes. his fingers wrapped around the little silver letters, holding it up better for him to see. caught off guard, you lowered yourself to him, a frown crossing your lips.
“hey! this was not cheap,” you started, moving to lean away but he stopped you. “jayyyy, c’mon it’s getting to the good part—.”
Jay watched his silver letters bounce between your bare breasts, mesmerized by the contrast of dewy skin and hickies that surrounded the crystallized letters. you clung to him for dear life as you rode him, bouncing along to meet and match every thrust he was offering.
̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙ㅤ ওㅤㅤֺㅤ ⠀⠀✧ ⠀ ㅤֺㅤ ওㅤ ㅤ*̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙
JAKE loved your hands the most, even though he was constantly groping your ass or tits. he simply couldn’t deny that he loved the softness of your hands on his. after a long day of stress induced manual labor, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed besides you and have your sweet, soft hands caressing his bare back.
sticking true to his plan he showered and threw on a random pair of underwear, throwing himself into bed. his body nestled between your parted legs, sinking into your delicate smell. “i’ve missed youuuu~” he cooed, bracing his back for your soft touches that felt like little butterfly kisses.
he felt a strangely cold material scratch the surface of his skin making him stir a bit before turning to grab your wrist. dangling from your wrist was his name in golden letters, little gems decorating the top.
“you like? i got it today! the nice little ole’ lady helped me pick it out—“
Jake pressed your wrists into the mattress, kissing the cold, gold, metal into your skin as he repeatedly as he pistons in and out of you. both of you barely able to choke back pleasurable sounds that would only come from a porno scene.
̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙ㅤ ওㅤㅤֺㅤ ⠀⠀✧ ⠀ ㅤֺㅤ ওㅤ ㅤ*̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙
SUNGHOON lazed into your shared bedroom after a much needed shower, a white towel hung low on his slender hips, showing off his monumental happy trail. you were stretched out across the mattress, scrolling through whatever new videos were trending.
once your boyfriend was dressed in boxers, he happily joined you in bed, reaching over to pull you into his muscled up arms. you rested with your cheek against his pec, holding your phone steady with one hand while the other caressed at his bare skin.
“what’s this?” he asked, guiding your free hand up to show off the ring that was wrapped around your ring finger. his initials in silver letters hugged your finger, the band was encrusted in cubic zirconia.
“i got it in the mail today! isn’t it purrrty—“
Sunghoon kissed your open hand numerous times whilst fucking your body down into the mattress before he intertwined your fingers with his. every now and then he’d turn your hand over to admire his little letters hugging your finger, letting it fuel him even more to fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked.
K BYEEEE !
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divinesolas · 5 months
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The lady of Volantis | 1k celebration
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Summary: Based on a request; You have been betrothed to Jacaerys for years now and you two have never exactly been close. He does not expect to see you anytime soon after your first couple meetings, but when Lucerys trial is happening you are suddenly in the keep. What are you doing there? Are you to be trusted?
w.c: 22.3k (i know... crazy right)
c.w: i will not include any bc they would include major spoilers for this fic,, all ill say is this includes things about Volantis culture, an alternative timeline, inaccurate westerios history, COLD READER and smut (a fair share of it). nothing too dark bc that's just not my style but be warned.
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Jacaerys has been betrothed for years now. He has only seen the mysterious lady of volantis a couple times now. When her father answered lord corlys call for help with the stepstones with the terms that corlys offer them something in return. They knew they had nothing that could be even close in value to the mighty powers of volantis but in a desperate effort they offer him, Prince Jacaerys velaryon, heir to the heir. They expect volantis to say no, what good would having good relations with Westeros do, they have control of the largest trades and market in the world.
After no response for a good while they expect them to just have disregarded the letter and have given up. But when one day over 20 sea ships show up the flags of volantis on them and a young girl trails behind her father who introduces himself as the man they were writing to they were over the moon. They had only really got to meet the girl one time before she went off to join the effort in stepstones though she did pop by a few times they were few and far between. Her father had warned them his daughter was a bit cold. He gave no reason as to why she was the way she was other than that was just how she was raised to be.
Jacaerys attempted to play nice with his betrothed but due to her cold, off putting personality nothing truly came from it. Instead all she would do was stand and watch him, barely saying more than a few words to him. Every time was the same routine, she would come and leave, leaving jacaerys to worry for the future. He is well aware most marriages don’t contain any love, but he had atleast hoped the two of them could be friends but it seemed like the lady of Volantis wanted nothing to do with him. He had not expected to see her for many years in the future, For their marriage arrangement is not meant to take place until after rhaenyra ascends the throne.
“it is an honor to see you.” The girl nods, still an ever blank look on her face as she grips a square wooden box in her hand. The queen glances at rhaenyra and daemon who manage to hide their shock at seeing the girl in the keep. “It is a nice surprise to see you again y/n.” Another acknowledging nod is the only thing the younger women does before thrusting her hands that were holding the wooden box towards the queen. Alicent looks at it in shock and hesitantly reaches her hands out and grabs in from her. “A gift.”
Shaky hands slide open the box and a light gasp follows suit. A completely custom cyvasse set sets inside the box, alicents hand reach inside and pick up one of the pieces, the dragon, and brings it closer to her face to admire it. “Hand carved and painted.” She looks back towards the younger girl. Her heart warmed at the gesture. Nobody had gotten her a gift so nice, ever. “This is so lovely.” “I had heard you enjoyed to play.” A small real smile graces alicents face as she lightly nods, “Do you enjoy to play?” “You are asking if a citizen of Volantis enjoys playing cyvasse.”
It was not a question, as volantis was the origin place of cyvasse it should be no question she a member of one of the royal families of volantis would play. Embarrassment fills alicent and she places the piece back in the box swiftly, closing it up and turning away placing it on a table. “Of course my apologizes i have no clue what i was thinking.” She maybe expects some sly comment from the girl or maybe no response at all, maybe her scoffing or tsking but instead when she looks back over she sees the girl bring her head towards the ground and twist her foot as if she was squishing a bug. “I was jesting…”
A simple ahh is all that can escape alicents mouth as she looks away bashfully. She hadn't expected her to be so, kind? maybe that was not the right word and it certainly did not fit the look of the warrior that stood in front of her. Laced in black leather covering even up to her neck down to the soles of her feet. The only color added from the silver chains wrapped around her legs attached to the belt loops on her waist, a sword at her hip so close to her hands she could whip it out in mere seconds, her boots look so heavy like she could squish someone’s skull should she want to.
"ziry iksos unexpected naejot ūndegon ao.” (it is unexpected to see you) A voice cuts through the rooms now awkward air and Alicent just watched as the girls head rises and she's back to standing sharply and coldly as she was mere moments ago. "Skoros issi ao doing kesīr hāedar?” (what are you doing here girl?)
“Iksos ziry pirta hen issa naejot māzigon.” (is it wrong of me to come.) Alicent, though she had no clue what they we’re saying, had never seen someone speak and look at the rouge prince so bravely. If any man we’re in her place they certainly would not even be looking him in the eyes but you do not look at him with fear, if anything you just look at him with annoyance straightening your shoulders and you fold your hands behind you back.
“Skorkydoso gōntan ao gīmigon naejot māzigon?” (how did you know to come?) rhaenyra by his side pinches his torso and tries to shoot him a look but his gaze is locked onto you. All the girl does is shrug and turns her attention back to alicent. Daemon is not dumb. He knows this is all timed too well, arriving to the keep the exact day they arrived here. She must have begun her trip way before they had even received word of the trial. He stares daggers into her but she does not look back towards him, rolling her her neck as alicent attempted to come up with something to say.
“I believe i should attend to some things.” With a bow of her head and a goodbye she grabs the box from the table and before she opens the door she turns back to the younger girl, “We should play.” She does not expect a response from the girl, so when you nods a delighted look graces her face before she turns and leaves. Right as the door closes her face falls as she's greeted by a squire who was sent by her father to grab her, most likely interested in speaking about the volantene girl.
The three stand in silence for a bit. Daemons gaze has no let up and rhaenyra readjusts awkwardly. Despite the fact that she does not wish for him to question her so she has her own curiosities. “I hope you faired well on your trip, you must have been traveling for a long time.” The implications of her words are clear, if the volantene girl is annoyed she does not show it on her face instead she merely blinks a nods. “It was well.” “We have not heard from you since last year, we are merely surprised to see you now of all times.” “i was on my way to visit dragonstone, heard talks of you all traveling here. i came here instead.” You say nothing that is not necessary, no sweet talk no sugar coating just exactly what you are asking no more. Its a believable story if it is to be true, but daemon is still clearly restless. “And what would bring you to dragonstone?”
“I was planned to return back to the fight but i heard what happened to lord corlys, wanted to make a stop at dragonstone before driftmark.” Despite your young age you were more than useful to the effort. You and corlys had even formed a bond, you grew to care for the man and when you left the field for personal affairs you were horrified to hear of his condition. “Have you spoken to rhaenys?” “i am yet to see her.”
Suddenly a guard comes into the room and looks at daemon and rhaenyra. “the king is ready to see you.” The two stand and say their goodbyes to you before they leave. Out in the hallway they discuss to themselves. “Gaomagon ao pendagon issa…?” (Do you think she is..?) Daemon does not look to rhaenyra instead keeping his gaze forward, eyes glazed in though as he clenches his jaw. “daor.” (no) She would not come for no reason. The girl he knew would immediately return back to the battlefield after hearing of corlys absence. It is rather strange for her to instead make the trip here instead.
In another room sits alicent, otto and Vaemond discussing tomorrows trial. “It does not matter if the next heir to driftmark is indebted to us. Not when Rhaenyra's first born son is about to marry into the most powerful family in all of Essos.” Ottos voice cuts Vaemond off quickly. “There is something that can be done.” The two of them look at alicent, “She holds a distain for them i can see it, there is no question. Maybe she can be convinced to,” she trails off looking away, “depart from the betrothal?” “If there was a greater thing she could be offer, im more than sure she would agree.”
“It is a bad idea.” Otto cuts, “If your theory is wrong then you could put all of us at risk.” He shakes his head, “I do not approve.” “I believe it is worth a shot.” Vaemond adds looking to alicent, “She is a tigress, she is easily swayed. They are all the same they wish for war, it is the reason why she is out on the field with my brother. She has no conquest anymore in Volantis.” Vaemond leans forward on the table and looks alicent directly in the eyes, “If there is to be a war. You will not win it with her on their side.”
The sun had finally begun to set but there was no rest for the dark haired prince who stood in the keep library, a maester on the other side of the table watching the young prince struggle to recite the valyrian. “Rūsīr māzigon kustikāne se…” (with hardships come strength and…) He bites his thumb and taps his foot as he thinks. He is sure he remembers the phrase, jacaerys mentally berates himself for being so stupid. He is to be the future king, the heir of the heir, how can he let himself be so careless with his studies. “kivio.” (promise)
The voice behind him causes him to turn around in shock.“syt konīr iksis daor drēje mijegon.” (for there is no true struggle without triumph) Soon enough you are standing in front of him and he gulps. He cannot believe you are here, not expecting to see you for many years from now. He puts a smile on his face all be it a weak one as you just stare at him. “gaomagon ao lo mazeman toliot?” (do you mind if i take over) You address the maester behind him who looks between the two of you nervously before nodding and leaving the room.
The two of you just stare at one another in silence for a bit. He takes this time to admire you, you have not changed much since the last time he saw you. It had been at least a year now since you've visited dragonstone and when he got to see you. Even when you did meet you certainly never met this close anyways he takes this time to admire you fully.
The blemishes on your face, if he looks towards your covered neck he can even see a scar the fades under the fabric, he's curious about it, how did you get it? Did it hurt? When did you get it? He wishes he could ask, too fearful of your reply. He cannot mess this arrangement up. It matters too much to not only his family, but to the safety of the realm and the safety of his mothers claim to the throne. No one would dare mess with the power of volantis and the free cities, he would never be able to forgive himself if he messed up what his family worked so hard to get. Especially since it seemed like you did not care for him much.
“You are still a toddler.” You are the one to break the silent are between them. He flushes with embarrassment and takes a step back, hitting the table lightly. “You’ve merely caught me at a bad moment.” You raise your eyebrows at him, a challenging look. He knows you do not believe him, “You lie to me.” He scratches the back of his neck, You're right. “I would never, my betrothed.” He is embarrassed and he hopes by playing the engagement card you will leave, as you seemingly have no interest in it, so he can wallow in his own humiliation alone. She just stares at him while he cracks a smile at her. He wants them to be civil, for her to atleast like him, he fears that won’t be the case. He sees how happy his mother and daemon are and he feels a pit of dread in his stomach, he wants a life like that. He knows it is rare for marriages in his life to be happy ones but he wants it.
Instead of leaving you simply stare at him for a moment longer, he notices a change in your eyes if it was for a split second before you round the table and eye the book on the table. “it is because you are trying to learn from that stupid book.” “It is a book of the Targaryen history.” She picks up the book and sharply closes it before he can stop stop her, his hand lift hanging in the air as she tosses the book away. “Exactly. Stupid book.” He opens and closes his mouth in an attempt to come up with a retort but he can’t say anything before you speak once more. “lets roleplay.”
If anyone saw you right now they would feel as though they were seeing a stranger. If he were to ask anyone else they would say they’ve never heard you speak as much as you were or even the look on your face, though it does not look too different from your normal one, was an unfamiliar one. He raises his eyebrows at you, “what?” “the best way to learn anything is to practice.” “which is why i was reading from the book.” “The book is nonsense. you will learn nothing from it.” “It is how my mother was taught and my ancestors before me.” “Then they are stupid.” He groans in frustration and looks at her with a blank face. “You do not learn swordsmanship from reading you do not learn how to stitch from reading you learn from real experience.” He cannot say you are wrong.
As he says nothing you continue, “Lets say i am a jewelry shop keeper, and you are a traveler visiting my shop interested in buying something.” she presses her hands against the table and tilts her head at him. “sȳz?” (good?) a chill runs down his spine as she stares at him and a warm feeling fills his stomach. He is so screwed, but he just nods.
“rytsas skorkydoso glaesā tubī?” (hello welcome how are you today?)
“Iksan sȳrī kirimvose” (I am well thank you)
“iksis konīr mirros iksā jurnegēre syt?” (is there something you are looking for?)
You watch him struggle for a moment, unsure if he is trying to decipher your words or if he is trying to figure out what to say. He is shocked you are so patient, simply staring and watching him, not pushing him to answer.
“iā rudhy syt ñuha aderī naejot sagon ābrazȳrys.” (a present for my soon to be wife)
He watches your face change for a split second to one of shock then back down to neutral. With his confidence he takes a moment to admire your gloved hands, covered with rings over the leather. He imagines them running down his chest, running through his hair, maybe gripping on it as he pleasures you in ways hes only ever read about, maybe even wrapped around his-
You snap in his face and his head lifts back to look at you alarmed but your just looking at him blankly. “umbagon lēda nyke.” (stay with me) He would. He will. For as long as you asked him too. You sigh and roll your neck he watches the scar as it shows more of itself before disappearing once more. He shakes his head, he needs to snap out of it, he was being foolish getting lost in his thoughts, and especially since his thoughts were so,,, deplorable. He is thankful you cannot read minds as you would surely slap him across the face and never speak to him again if you knew he was thinking so terribly.
“gaomagon emā mirros qantre jaelā?” (do you have something specific you want?)
you.
“Nyke jaelagon nyke gōntan yn eman daor skoros ziry would hae.” (i wish i did but i have no clue what she would like)
She pauses for a moment and stares at him with narrow eyes. When he says nothing other than shrug she rolls her eyes, turning her head away.
“ābrar hae mirros” (women like anything)
“jaelan naejot jiōragon mirros ziry jorrāelagon” (i want to get something she would love)
“ivestragon nyke nūmāzma zirȳla pār.” (tell me about her then)
“gaoman daor gīmigon olvie yn nyke gīmigon issa kostōba se pazavor, se rovaja run naejot nyke iksis bona issa biare.” (i do not know much but i know she is strong and loyal, the biggest thing to me is that she is happy)
The air between them gets hot and he cant decipher the look in her eyes as she stares at him. He fears he’s upset her. The way her eyes and face remain unmoving or maybe he said the words wrong and she’s misinterpreting what he meant. His eyes stay locked on hers as she trails around the table to be standing right next to him once more. he opens his mouth to apologize but she begins to speak before he can say a word. “gaomagon daor tepagon qrīdrughagon aōha dōna udra sīr easily syt naejot qūvy ilagon se qēlossās se se jēdar syt ao”
His eyes crinkle and she has a content look on her face, seemingly happy he has no clue what she is saying to him. “what did you say?” Its eating at him. unlike when he hears his parents speak he does not mind much when he doesn’t know what they're talking about. even when lucerys is doing better in practice than him he does not mind it much though he grows annoyed at himself. But with you, he needs to know what you’re saying. He is latched onto your every word your every move. It makes himself sick to think about the fact he’s missed something you’ve said with the limited words you ever say. He’s shocked you’ve even talked to him this much today.
She just shakes her head and takes a few steps back. Her stoic nature has returned and she's back to not even looking at him. “It is getting late. You should have dinner.” He looks out the window and is shocked to see the had set and it had begun to rain outside. When did the sun even set? We’re they truly here for so long? He turned back to question her but she was already gone and the book placed back in front of him. The only reason he knows she was ever even here is the faint smell of her perfume in the air. Like a ghost she had up and left. Maybe she was a ghost, or merely a figment of his imagination to toy with him. He takes a couple deep breaths until the lingering smell of her is gone before he picks back up the book and leaves.
He clutches the book tightly to his chest to suppress the pounding of his heart and the ache that begins to bleed through his skin. He tries to mumble what she said to himself to try and figure out what you meant. Hes able to catch a few words, stars and the sky but he cant make sense of it all. he clenches his jaw in frustration as he returns to his chambers, placing the book down on his table and gripping the sides of it with his hands. This must be a challenge from her. She’s clearly toying with him. Maybe she did truly dislike him. But then why would she help him today? or can you even call it help? she didn’t exactly teach him anything. he grows irritated at the thought that his afternoon was wasted but then he realizes something. He had no clue he himself could even say or understand any of those words until she proved to him that he could.
Before he can even dwell on it he’s being called for dinner. On his way there he wonders if you’ll join them. His hopes are crushed when he walks in the room and you aren’t there. Greeting his parents quickly before greeting baela for the first time, the two share a friendly hug before sitting. “Did you know lady y/n is here jacaerys?” He almost gets whiplash from the way his head whips up to look at daemon. “yes i got the chance to see her earlier.” He hopes he does not seem too quick with his response. He takes a sip of his wine as daemon taps his fingers on the table in thought. He can never tell what daemon is thinking, though he doubts even his mother can tell what he’s thinking. “i am yet to meet her i am looking forward to it.” Baela turns to jacaerys, “Do you like her?”
Now this question really makes him pause. He has no clue. He is sure he does, in some way, but he barely knows her. Maybe that does not matter, especially in their political situation. It is purely a political marriage he does not need to like her. But he does, maybe it stems from him not wanting to disappoint his mother but he likes her, he wants things to work with her. but a man who is simply doing this just to keep his mother happy would not write her letters while she was out fighting even when he would not receive a response, he would not be overthinking what gifts to give her because sure he could go out and get her the most expensive gem in the world or the most finest silk but she is not the type of lady to like that type of stuff and this man would be imagining her underneath him withering with pleasure. Well, maybe they are but not a man like him.
“She is pleasant.”
The raging storm outside leads most of the hallways empty as people try to remain dry. but solely in one hallway sits a girl sitting with her thighs clenched tightly to keep the torch she has lit ablaze steady as her hands cup in a prayer. Its dead quiet expect for the storm outside and the quiet mutters leaving her lips, until footsteps walk down the hall and the spot next to her grows warm with a body sitting there.
“Lord of Light, shine your face upon us.” the person next to you says nothing as you continue in your prayer. “Light your flame among us, R'hllor. Show us the truth or falseness of this man. Strike him down if he is guilty, and give strength to his sword if he is true. Lord of Light, give us wisdom.” “For the night is dark and full of terrors” the person next to you finishes. A long looming silence hangs in the air as you do not dare move your position. “Are you going to say anything?”
“I thought you were praying.” You finally look up at the women besides you who gives you a curious look. “Is it impolite that i i finished it for you?” “No it is preferred, lady rhaenys.” “have you always been a follower of the lord of light?” “I have been visiting the temple of the lord of light before i could even walk, it would be strange if i were not.” She hums and simply stares at the storm. “it is rather cold, do you not fear of getting sick?”
“i have been through worse weather at stepstones.” There are a few more beats of silence, it is so quiet you are even convinced for a moment she will not say anything else but she begins to speak after awhile. “What would my husband think of all this?” You turn to rhaenys and tilt your head. Rhaenys laughs and shakes her head, “You are the first person i am speaking to that has had a close direct contact with my husband for the last couple years, i wish to know what you think he would say.” You do not say anything for a long moment, your gaze being stuck on the flames still sat in your lap. “I think he would say you are all absurd for thinking he is going to die from this.” Rhaenys snorts but says nothing as she waits for your next words. “But he would not want his brother to succeed him.” It is not as though she is shocked to hear the answer. Especially when it was something she already knew herself.
“why do you think so?” She wants to know why, no she needs to. Just to clear her head maybe, give her some justice in her choice, rhaenyra's offer about marrying rhaena to lucerys still looming over her head. “because his brother is a fool.” She has no clue whether they are his words or hers but it does matter much as in a funny way she seems content with the answer. or maybe she was already content with her choice and needed the extra push.
She watches as the girl stares into the flames aimlessly. “can you see things in them?” “that is the priestess job not mine. Though i can see flashes. i am no were near skilled enough to make anything of it.” “it is a shocker to hear you admit you are not skilled enough at something.” “I am honest.” she nods though you don’t look in her direction. “What do you see?” “Myself mostly. sometimes he is with me.” “who?” There is no answer from the girl which causses rhaenys to sit up straight. “Jacaerys?” A light hum is the only answer she is given but it is all she needs before she lets out a surprised scoff. “i thought you hated the man.” You rip your gaze away form the flames and look at her with a confused look. “i hate him?” “that’s what everyone says dear.” rhaenys looks at her.
“Do you not hate him?” she looks away and stares back into the flames, her face now solemn and she watches the flame slowly wither away to nothing. No more words are said between the two of them but they don’t need to be as rhaenys gets up. “i bid you goodnight.” Even if you wanted to reply you are not given the opportunity to as she quickly turns away from you and leaves. You are once again left alone but this time you cannot distract yourself with prayers. You lean your head back against the cold wall behind you, hoping to let your mind be flooded with mindless water like the grounds are outside.
You cannot fail this. For there is far too much at risk. The words of the priestesses ring in your ears. This is too important. the gnawing feeling in your chest grows as you think of him. Failure is not an option. As much as you wish you could sit and wallow here for the night in your thoughts there are still things you must get done. Still people you must talk to. Maybe you should go to sleep earlier for tomorrow will make or break everything. But you know thats not an option. You get up for the first time in two hours and head towards the opposite direction of your room, for there is something you must do first.
Dinner has finally ended and jacaerys is more then eager to go to his room and take a nice hot bath before he goes to bed but he is instead walking lucerys to his room who looks like he’s gonna throw up. “I am nervous.” Jacaerys sighs and grabs his shoulders making lucerys look straight at him. “It shall be fine brother. Mother will take care of it.” Lucerys looks at the floor, “So i am making it difficult for her.” “No. family is about taking care of one another. It may be tough but it is worth it. because we are family.” Lucerys take a deep breath and opens his mouth as though he wishes to say something but he simply shakes his head before whispering a goodnight and closing his door.
Jacaerys lets out a shudder and closes his eyes for a moment. He feels bad he cannot do more for lucerys. He cannot truly reassure him everything will be alright because in his mind and how his parents talk of the hightowers he is convinced tomorrow will not work on in their favor. He stands in his spot for far too long, His mind far away from his body, He does not know what will happen and that scares him. What does happen if driftmark is taken from lucerys? What happens to his mothers claim? He feels as though this is his fault though the more rational side of him tells him this was something completely out of his hands.
He knows what he is. it is no secret. He knew. But there is nothing he can do about it. He must live with it. It does not matter what anyone else thinks. He runs his now sweaty hands down the front of his tunic before turning and walking away from lucerys room. He cannot stress about this now or else he will not be able to sleep. He is not paying attention in front of him so when hands press on his chest to prevent him from moving he gasps and takes a step back. “My lady.” He feels like he’s imagining you. Maybe he thought about you a bit too much he’s starting to see things. You just blankly stare at with your eyebrow raised. His stress must be showing on his face. he sighs and runs his hands down his face. “I apologize i was lost in thought.”
He had thought you were waiting around for him to apologize to you. “you should not be upset. what is it now.” He grows irradiated. His face turns anger and his blood begins to boil. You were mocking him. it is the way you say it, the monotone voice you hold makes his skin itch. The cherry on top is the fact that you roll your eyes. His jaw clenches and begins to speak through his teeth. “i am sorry i am not allowed to be upset my lady. I know you hold your own anguishes against me but please save it for another day. Goodnight.”
He swiftly moves around you and does not look back as he storms off to his room. He cannot believe himself. Deluding himself into thinking the two of you could even be civil. You don’t like him. That much is clear to him now. He does not notice the fact that you have not moved a single step. There is no noise in the hallway it is as if you are not even breathing. For the first time all day you truly let you face fall. Fingers twitching at you side as if you wished to reach your hand out and grab him but he is already to far away. You have messed it up. of course.
You don’t know how long you’re standing there until a hand touches your shoulder and you turn your head. “Are you alright?” You immediately straighten back up and no one would have even known you we’re frowning before now that your face has been set back to neutral. “I am alright my queen.” “Are you lost?” No. “Yes. I seemingly have lost my way.” She offers to walk you and you finally fully get a good look at her. She is in her nightdress and you eye the box you had given her earlier in her hands. She notices your gaze and perks up. “ah in truth i had actually head to your room to look for you. It is late but, are you up for a game?”
Jacaerys attempts to contain his anger as he asks for the coldest bath he can have that night. They do not question him as they see him furiously unbutton and tear at his clothes. He does not even hiss as he enters the tub. His blood still boiling hot and the cold bath does nothing to soothe him. “You are dismissed.” “But my prince-” “I am capable of cleaning myself.” The servant bows before stating he will leave his night clothes on his bed before he swiftly leaves. For the first time today he is alone with his thoughts for the first time today. he leans down and submerges himself low enough in the water until his nose is just barely above the water.
He is sure the water is warming up quickly because of how hot his skin is right now. He does not even know why he is so annoyed. He does not know you. You do not know him. Maybe he is annoyed at himself for attempting to put in an effort that is not going anyway, maybe it is due to the fact that he is going to be stuck with you for the rest of his life. He doesn’t know. Maybe he is annoyed that he is so enthralled by you. Were you always so inconsiderate? He should have known, gods you never even answered his letters or even so much as tried to speak to him before today.
The stress of lucerys trial and his annoyance with you all builds and all he can feel is a pure ache. Throbbing and aching and throbbing. Fuck when did he get hard? He stares down at his errection with furrowed brows. His hot blood boiled until it all spilled down to his cock he guessed. He throws his head back in anger. Maybe he should just ignore it. He should call a servant in and ask him to throw as much ice as he can possibly take into the tub.
Or maybe he just needs a good stress relief. He is a man and tomorrow will certain be a tough day and he will be overthinking. Maybe he just need to get it out now? He sits all the way up and eyes his throbbing dick angerly. He rarely does this. His sex drive is not high enough where he gets hard everyday but every once and awhile a guy has to relieve himself. He leans his head back to lay against the edge of the tub and closes his eyes. hands sliding down his chest before they settle on his balls. He lets out a sigh of relief as he fondles them lightly in his hands, his thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive skin.
Suddenly the smell of a familiar perfume fills the air. His movements do not halt but his pleasure is increased when it begins to feel like a second set of hands lay over his, adding harder pleasure to his thumbs. He lets out a couple puffs of air and its almost as if he can feel the another hot breath drifting onto his face. His eyes flutter open slowly and he sees you. Staring at him how you were in the library and he whines, “please… y/n.” As if he is high on your smell he feels as though his hands are being guided by yours, they slide from the base of his dick to the tip causing him to curse and clench his jaw as his thumbs are instead pressed against his tip, rubbing in small circles.
He presses his lips together tightly to stop himself from letting out a loud moan. He wants to bring one of his hands up to his mouth to silence himself but it feels like their stuck where they are. Your hands holding his down tightly. “Jacaerys.” He can hear you, smell you, feel you. Its as if your hands have switched and he can feel the harsh leather your hands are covered with. “Please y/n i cant take it please.” Finally sliding down from his tip and down back to the base, it slides back up slowly, her pointer finger is tracing along one of the veins, this continues like a slow painful torture until each and every single vein has been drawn and pressed against the skin, Jacaerys does not know how loud he is, with every groan, hiccup, mumble and moan he can’t even be worried he’s getting louder and is instead completely and utterly consumed by you.
“y/n do not tease me please, please.” The hands suddenly begin to move faster and he throws his head so far back its basically outside the tub. His cock so painfully sensitive from the teasing he feels like he might burst any moment. But he needs something else, something more. Suddenly it's like he can feel your ghost lips kissing along his jaw, slowly working towards his ear, giving it a long lick and he shudders, “Jace.” He cannot take it, his balls begin to ache and he can feel an overwhelming pressure build in his stomach. “I need you y/n” Suddenly a long lick on his collarbone is what has him shaking and moaning out your name while white webs flood into the now very very very dirty bath water.
The only sounds that can be heard now are the light swaying of water and his deep heaving breaths. After many moments he finally lifts his head and slowly opens his eyes, blinking slowly he sees no one in front of him. Of course it was not real. he lifts up his hands and feels how his arms and hands ache from how long he was working himself and there is no smell of you in the room. For a moment he is disappointed until clarity hits him and he's suddenly very quickly standing up, well as best as he can his legs begin to rapidly shake and he hisses as his dick is met with the cold air of the room severely overstimulated.
What had he done? It was a one time thing. It was merely his mind running amok. Yes that's it. He dries himself quickly and attempts to suppress down any thoughts he has. All of them. all he wants to do is slip into bed and fall asleep, acting like today never happened. If he was lucky she wouldn’t be at the trial. Maybe she would head to stepstones tomorrow and they would go back to being strangers until they must marry. Maybe she would die in the war, he ignores how much his chest aches at that, and they would never see each other ever again. He just wants to rid of himself of all his thoughts. He tosses and turns in bed, sleep alludes him, or maybe its his own fears that once he falls asleep he’ll dream of you.
The library you reside in is cold, devoid of all light other than the two candles lighting up the board in front of you and the occasional light from lightning striking outside. “It is rare i meet someone who is good competition.” Alicent is enjoying herself. a small smile on her face as she places down another piece. Aemond is always far too busy to play, Aegon obviously won’t play with her and helaena has no clue how to play. She watches you closely but you face is unmoving, leaning far back into your seat with you arms crossed in your lap all you do is dart your eyes around to look at the board.
When you say nothing in return she is not surprised and says nothing more until you move a piece on the board. “I’d like to ask you about something.” she twists one of the pieces in her hands, eyes flying back between the board and to you. You make no noise or even so much as look up at her like she takes this as her queue to continue. “What are your thoughts on your betrothal?” Though it only happens for a split second she catches it, You tense.
She believes she is right. You are unhappy with your betrothal. She watches as you stare at your dragon on the board, lifting on of your hands to twist it to face you. “It is a fine match.” She hums and nods, “agreed.” Though for the first time you look at her and raise your eyebrows at her. you know there's something more to this. She feels a chill run down her spine as you don’t take your eyes off her while she's moving another one of her pieces on the board. “I hope this does not offend you, however i am truly just curious, is there anything keeping you in this engagement?”
Your gaze does not waver nor do you move to move one of your pieces and she begins to pick at her nails, a pit forming in her stomach. “I do not understand.” “It is simply curiosity. and if you would stay, if there was no longer any political benefit?” Your gaze does not stray as you pick up a piece and place it on the board. “No more political benefit?” You trail off for a moment, she expects you to say there would be no point then or maybe something along those lines. “What political benefit is there for me now?” Alicent freezes and looks at you confused, “What?” You shrug and fiddle around with some of your pieces on the board. “Am i supposed to be getting something out of it?”
All alicent can do this blink. What did you mean? Were you trying to mock her? What did you mean what benefit were you getting? “Your future husband is to be king one day….” She watches as you scratch your jaw and move one of your pieces. “Ahh,,,,, I guess you’re right.” She looks down at the board, she sees the clear path in front of her and tries to suppress her smile, maybe you were not as good at this as she had though, purposefully taking longer to continue to speak to you.
“It would be better if a marriage had benefits i suppose, so no?” Alicent picks up one of her pieces and places it down. Maybe this is her opportunity, there is a small voice in the back of her head telling her this was a bad idea, it was her fathers voice, but she must try no matter what he says. She could be in danger or even worse children could be in danger.
She knows how dangerous and cruel the people of Volantis are. If there truly is to be a war if she does not gain her as an ally they are doomed. and worse they would be fighting against her family, so the punishment and pain she would inflict would be far worse. It would be treason.
“So, would you consider another option, should you be presented one?” She sees the look on your face and panics a bit but manages to remain calm, “Purely hypothetical of course.” “Like what?” “Say if i told you my son aemond remains unmarried.” “A second son compared to a future king? A ridiculous proposition.” For someone who just seemed to have no interest in the political side of things your attitude sure has changed.
“but what if he was not just a second son, but the prince regent to the king” You just blink. you would be blind to not get what she was referring. she fears you will confront her, ask her what she means by her implications, but she is good to remember you are not that type of person. “a prince regent is still not a king.”
“but what if your first daughter would be promised to the next king, your line on the throne after you.” more blinking. She doesn't know what you’re thinking, your face as blank as it always it. “simply just something to think about of course. If tomorrows trial goes well, maybe there could be something.” She begins to sweat under your blank stare. Maybe her father was right, this was a bad idea. You are going to declare war on her and her family for treason. But you say nothing at all for a good while. She decided against opening her mouth again in fear of ruining it more than she already has.
But you make do not open your mouth to speak, instead you just push yourself to stand up and her heart drops but you just place one of your pieces before snatching her dragon and placing it on her side of the board. “I shall think about it. Goodnight.” She simply watches as you leave the room before looking at the board in shock.
you had won.
He’s kissing you. All over your hot skin. Occasionally leaving a trail of his own saliva when he stays in one sport too long. He makes sure to keep his ear right next to your mouth to hear every little whimper and moan you let out. His hands running up and down your sides, you were wearing a red silk dress, a night gown if he had to guess. but he has no room in his mind to think about it as he slides his hands under your dress kneading your ass with his hands and uses his knees to push open your legs to slot himself between you, lifting up your dress to expose you, you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. His lips are surely going to be sore with the force he’s kissing you.
The two of your hips thrusting each others with fever even through his clothed pants he can feel your wetness soak his trousers and onto his hard cock. His lips leave yours and they begin to suck down your jaw to your neck. His hands sliding up to your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, feeling as they harden against his skin.
“my prince.” He ignores this at first. continuing his assault on your skin and the rhythm of your hips getting faster. “my prince.” but the voice gets louder and louder and louder until-
“my prince!”
Jacaerys eyes open and he shoots up. He is breathing heavy as if he just ran all the way from the north to dorne. He runs his hands down his face and he looks at his hands with disgust as he feels the amount of sweat.
fuck.
“my prince.”
“What is it?” He is basically snarling. He is furious he was woken up. He can feel his cock throbbing under the blanket as if he was on the brink of climax. The servant shakes at the dragon princes hard glare. “It is morning my prince, we must get you ready for morning fast.” His head whips to look at the window. The sky bright blue contrasting the stormy weather it had been last night. as if the storm had to happen last night for the sky to be blue. He runs his hands down his face and apologizes, “I'm so sorry, i had a bad dream.” the servant merrily nods with a grateful smile on his face before he begins to help jacaerys get ready for the day.
Jacaerys cock throbs under the cold water. “my prince if you need a few moments alone-” “I do not.” he spits out. He certainly cannot do what he did last night. As much as his hands itch to touch himself he knows he would only be greeted with images of you. He cannot allow that. The servant says nothing more for the rest of the morning, his hardness dies down a little through out his routine but he knows once he is alone his mind will begin to race once more.
So he is more than thankful you are not there when he joins his family. Though his mother mentions she had tried to invite you but apparently you were no where to be seen. Seemingly not having gone back to your room last night. He wishes he was relieved, that he were happy you were gone from him and he could not have to see you for a while. but he is not. He must be so annoyed about it even Joffrey asked him why he had such a sour face.
They all assume you have gone to stepstones, not believing you would be interested in staying for the trial. He says nothing in return. A thought pops up into his head. Maybe he had upset you, he had lost his temper with you last night, maybe that is why you had left. He tries not to dwell on it but a pit grows in his stomach, he does not wish to think about you any longer.
He does not expect you to be there. He had thought you left just like the rest of his family. But as his family was being led into the room he sees you already leaning against the wall near where his family was standing. He could see the way the people were looking and whispering about you. This must be the first time for many people in this room seeing her before, even seeing someone from Essos before. You do not seem to care as he expected. He can’t take his eyes off you. Instead of your black leather outfit you were wearing a completely grey leather outfit still paired with your large boots and silver chains. You have a dagger in your hands fiddling around with it not taking your eyes off of it.
He does not like you he is certain of it but then why can he not remove his gaze from you? why does he wish to go over to you and compliment you though he knows your response will be something like a nod? Has he ever even complimented you? He can’t remember. Maybe he wrote something in one of his letters. But why does it matter why should he complement you if you do not even care. Maybe he should do the right thing and go greet you despite his grievances.
Your gaze suddenly lifts and you're looking in his direction so he swiftly turns away to glance at lucerys who look's more nervous than ever. He wishes he could offer lucerys any sort of comfort but he has no clue what to say. It is certainly not because he is using all his willpower to not look at you. He can feel your stare, your burning gaze staring into the side of his face. He does not allow himself to look. he only does when he sees otto sit down on the throne and it is almost as if you were not just looking at him. backing to fiddling with you dagger, was it really your gaze he felt on him? He has no time to truly dwell on it, not when Vaemond begins to speak.
The trial begins without a hitch. Jacaerys find himself growing more and more irritated as the trial goes on. Vaemond’s voice and the backhanded insults Vaemond is insinuating about his mother anger him beyond belief. Daemon places his hand on jacaerys back to attempt to keep the young boy at bay. Daemon looks over at you and sees you spaced out, as if you were not even listening to the trial at hand., neither really was he if he was being truthful, he knew this trial would work on in his favor, whether he would have to pull out drastic measures or not.
“Why don’t we get the lady Maegyr’s opinion?” Daemon chuckles as he watches your head raise and look to Vaemond with your blank stare. “You are sure to know better than anyone else about my brothers wishes.” Every head in the room is turned to look at you now.
Alicent feels herself praying in her mind. You must take their side, they can’t risk you having aligned yourself with the blacks. She glances at otto who looks to her for a beat, she does not miss the awaiting look on his face. She knows he will be furious with her should you not side with them, she looks at you hopeful, praying to the seven, praying to the father the mother anyone who would listen to her.
Jacaerys watches as you push yourself off the wall and walk towards where Vaemond is standing, stopping for a moment to glance at jacaerys. He does not turn away this time, allowing himself to look at you. He is desperate, he worries as he knows your distain for him he fears that will transfer over to your feelings on this whole affair. He has a look of desperation as your gaze does not leave him, please he finds himself begging in his mind. You must defend them, his mother, his brother. Him. His fists clench at his sides and your gaze drops to look at them before you look back up one more time and walk away.
Standing in front of the throne the room is dead quiet, every person in the room eager to here what you have to say, anticipating it.
“I think this whole ordeal is ridiculous.” You stop to glance at alicent who looks at you with wide eyes, you can see her picking at the skin on her nails. You look back at Vaemond and sigh. “worst of all i think you are nothing than a power hunger pig who cares not of his brother nor his family but only of himself.” There's a couple gasps around the room and Vaemond opens his mouth to speak but you are quicker. Daemon feels rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief and places a hand over her chest.
“Dare i ask why you do not campaign for Baela to take driftmark? by westerios succession rules she would be next in line after him if you do truly disregard corlys’ true blooded named heir Lucerys Velaryon. For you are nothing but an old rotting man no kids, no wife yet you believe you are best choice for driftmark? yet not baela who has spent the last couple years of her life on driftmark under her grandmothers wing who, as of right now, is the proper ruler of driftmark and is more suited than you, a lone man who is closer to his own death day than he is to ever sitting on the driftmark seat.”
Vaemond's face turns to anger, his eye twitches at your words and he takes a step closer to you, his voice louder than before, “You dare speak to me like this?” “You say that as if you are someone to be reconned with. I am supposed to fear a second son you dare insult me, maybe that is the reason you remain unwed, for no one wishes to lay with a second son.” Alicent feels her heart drop to her stomach. It does not help that she feels Aegon chuckling at her words next to him. She does not dare look at her father, for she fears his reaction more than anything.
“How dare you?” “How dare i? how dare you? you dare put into question the legitimacy of the princess and even worse the legitimacy of her children. Ser laenor claimed those children as his who are we to question such an act. You? A weak old man who is so bitter and resentful he must campaign in a room full of more ignorant fools who believe this should even be a question in the first place. You should be hung for treason.”
Vaemond finds his body shaking with anger at the girls in front of him with her ever so calm demeaner, her words cold and calculated like she knew exactly what she was going to say before he had even called on her. He cannot control himself. “You are a lying deceitful monster who believes she is so righteous and strong. Yet i find it hard to believe there is a fate worse than marrying someone of his blood-” “You will hold your tongue!” The room which had begun to be filled with whispers and small chatter ceases completely at the girls outburst. Her face having a look that no one has ever seen from her. Anger. Vaemond takes a step back as if her voice had thrown him back. Everyone else in the room finds themself frozen in fear.
“You dare forget yourself i am first lady Y/n Maegyr of House Maegyr, one of the three triarchs of Volantis i am not someone who is below you, i am not some family member of yours, you will not dare speak another nasty word about him or i shall watch your blood pool on the ground by my blade.” Without another words you swiftly turn your back to him and make your way back to the pillar you were once leaning against, not sparing anyone else a glance and sliding down it to be sitting on the floor with a bored look. You do not pull out your dagger nor do you look to speak with anyone else, simply all you do is stare out into space.
Before anyone else can say a single word the king is announced and he is shockingly walking in. Jacaerys can't find himself to care much however. You are the only thing on his mind. You defended not only his mother but him. You did not get angry when Vaemond insulted your own honor but his. He attempts to will away his blood that begins to pump down south. Maybe you had just done it to keep up appearances, it would be wrong if you did not defend your betrothed.
Suddenly he is rushed with guilt. He had been so cruel to you last night, maybe it had been deserved but he should not have spoken to you like that. He will have to make it up to you somehow. An idea pops up in his head. He is so distracted he does not even flinch when daemon slices off Vaemond’s head, instead turning his head in your direction to see how you react. You don’t, as expected and you do not move even as the trial is called to an end. He finds himself moving without thinking.
You look up once you notice a shadow close around your vision and see him staring down at you, offering you his hand. You eye it for a moment before grabbing onto it and he helps you up. He watches as you use your free hand to dust off your pants briefly before looking back at him. “Thank you.” He wasn’t expecting you to say anything and merely nods, he feels as though the roles are reversed, he should be the one speaking not the one silent. You make no move to let go of his hand and he does not let go either. He does not want to let go. “Are you free this afternoon?”
He watches as you look at him wide eyed, he gives you a small smile, maybe he could use this as a way to apologize. But he watches as you look down at the floor and let go of his hand. “I find myself,,,,,” You trail off with an unsure look on your face, “preoccupied with other things this afternoon until the dinner tonight.” He takes this as a clear rejection and takes a step back. Maybe you truly did what you had done for your own benefit and he finds himself annoyed at himself. You probably were not even busy, you were probably just not interested in seeing him. “of course you are. Good day then.”
You are once again forced to watch him simply just walk away from you as you have once again messed things up and merrily sigh as you watch him walk off. As much as you would like to spend the afternoon with him you have other things you must do. Things you cannot afford to miss. He will understand. But as you walk around out you begin to think about the words he had said to you last night. ‘I know you hold your own anguishes against me’ or even when rhaenys had asked you if you hated him, has you crinkling your eyes. What had they meant by that? You let out a sigh and continue walking through the streets with your hood up, You have things to do, people to meet, you will dwell on this later.
Dinner time has finally arrived and everyone had gotten into their seats, even viserys had been escorted into the room but one chair remained empty. Your chair. “The lady is no where to be found my queen.” Alicent sighs in defeat, had you left? It did not make sense. Maybe you are heading home to plan an attack on her and her family. No. She should not think so irrationally now. “If she shows up escort her here.” The guard nods before moving to leave the room. “Should we pray?”
“She cannot stand your presence so much she is missing dinner.” Aegon whispers in jacaerys direction before being shushed by his mother who begins to pray. Jacaerys has never been religious so he has no reason to pray. Are you truly missing dinner because of him? He begins to feel sick. Jacaerys had definitely not spend his whole afternoon thinking of you even when he was walking in the garden with baela or when he had found out lucerys was to be married to rhaena. It got him thinking of his own engagement. He has been trying his best to figure out what he was going to say the next time you spoke, maybe he should stop trying completely. Today was a slip up in his judgement, he should have listened to his head and not thought with his cock like Aegon.
He will not speak to you unless necessary.
That entire plan lasted all of five seconds because as soon as alicent was done with her prayer the doors to the room opened and his jaw fell to the floor. You stood in a floor length sleeved in the color of house velaryon. It had a long slit down your front down to your waist where it connected to another slit down your leg. the dress covered in detailed designs of flowers. Your hair was done, full of pins and topped with a golden clip which made it look like the sun was shining behind you. he could see the scar that was was usually hidden behind your very covered up look clearly now. it ran completely down your chest and stopped around your stomach where there was a bigger scar.
You were gorgeous. No gorgeous is not enough. you looked radiant, glorious, his vocabulary is not large enough to describe the goddess standing in front of him. He may not be religious but he believes you to be the closest thing to the maiden. A goddess that has flown down from the heavens to grace this earth.
You awkwardly readjust your dress as everyone in the room gawks at you. “I apologize for being late. This dinner clashed with my prayers.” There is a couple beats of silence before anyone says anything. “It is my fault, i should have taken your faith into account when i set this dinner up.” Otto is the first and only one to break the silence and is given a nod before you make your way towards the table.
Jacaerys quick to stand, you look at him in shock as you sit he pushes in your chair for you before sitting back down himself.
Shortly after all the food is being brought out and the chatter at the table begins. “you look beautiful. That dress is stunning, where ever did you get it?” rhaenyra is the first to speak to you, he watches as you reach your hands and readjust the slit on your dress. You are not wearing your gloves. “I had it made in a tailor shop in the city last night, i had gone to go pick it up this afternoon.” He cannot take his eyes off your hands, still covered in rings. He can see black marks peaking through your wrists but mostly hidden under your sleeves. He wants to see them. He wants to see you.
“A dress like that made so quickly? That is quite impressive.” “It is easy to have stuff done quickly when you are presented with enough coin.” more mindless chatter flows around you all. There is an awkward energy in the air but no one dares acknowledge it. Jacaerys feels terrible. You had been busy this afternoon. And he had been so rude about it. His terrible temper and sensitive feelings continue to sway him in the wrong direction.
He wants to speak to you. But he feels as though he will just screw it up once more.
“Lady Maegyr, you had mentioned you are a triarchs of Volantis, is it normal for two members of the same family to rule at the same time?” You pick at the food on your plate, “My father was not re-elected lord hand.” “That must have not gone over well with him.”
You glance up for a moment at daemon before you look down at your plate. “He was furious. So furious in fact he demanded a recount, then another recount. When that didn't work he attempted to bribe them. When that didn't work he tried to kill me. Both the other triarchs were re-elected, He had thought it was ridiculous i was elected. i had not spent a single second or coin to campaign” “but you traveled out there recently no? was that not to campaign?” “it had been to help my father campaign. Seems like it did not matter. The people wanted me to sit on the throne.”
“Do you know why?” It takes you a moment to answer but it is clear to daemon who chuckles to himself. “You are to be a Targaryen.” You hum, taking a large gulp out of your wine glass. “Every single old blood dreams of being even close to the great legacy of house Targaryen. They simply are trying to flatter me.”
There is no room to acknowledge the tension in the room. The adults more interested in learning about you, throwing questions at you left and right. Its a good thing, there's no room for in fighting between the family and you serve as the perfect distraction. “What happened to your father then?” “He had fallen off a cliff. Such a tragedy.” You do not mean that, you seem far too pleased for it to be merely an accident. “That is horrible.” You simply nod, and watch as a maid fills up your wine glass for the fourth time.
“Is your mother around?” “My mother died soon after giving birth to my brother.” Alicent places her hand on her chest, “I am so sorry.” You shrug, continuing to sip on your drink. “I was born with my twin brother, they had not expected her to live anyways.” “Twins are tough.” It is helaenas first time speaking that night, a depressed look on her face. “Birthing is not easy even with one, i cannot even imagine two. Isn't it not common to survive?”
“Yes well, my mother had not died while giving birth. She had actually looked like she was going to live which shocked the midwives in the room.” The room sits in silence and some in pure confusion, “Imagine the look on their face after my father picked up a blade and slit it across her throat.”
Rhaenyra chokes on her drink while alicent gasps and covers her mouth. “No…” “ ‘an heir and a spare’ they say. when i was pushed out first he had expected he would keep her around until she gave him another son but soon after me my brother came out and he had no more use for her i suppose.” “That's horrible.”
You simply shrug and finish off your cup requesting some more. “it is in the past. My father shall pay for what he’s done, the lord of light shall do what he sees fit to punish him. Even so he has already paid for his crimes in a sense.” It is a shock to hear you talk so much. Maybe it is the wine that is loosing you up. But there must be a deeper reason as to why you seem to be acting differently tonight.
“It is nice to see someone can keep up with me in the drinks. Maybe we should see if you can keep up with me in other places.” Aegon whispers the last part in your ear. You keep your gaze forward continuing to drink, had you even taken a bite out of your meal.
“Hold your tongue when speaking to my betrothed.” It is now jacaerys who whispers from your right. He has a venom in his voice as he glares in his direction. You look at neither man, simply blind to the stare down they are having behind you.
“My lady i truly feel bad for you. I'm sure his cock is so flaccid he has no clue what to do with it. If you ever need some real experience feel free to come visit me.”
What really gets jacaerys anger is Aegon placing his hand on your bare back that had been exposed. He swears his eye is twitching as he fights the urge to pick up his steak knife and stab it into his hand to get it off your skin. He had never even touched your skin before.
You suddenly reach behind your back and rip his hand off, twisting it lightly causing him to hiss. “Touch me or even so much as speak to me again and i shall do worse to you.” You do not even spare him a glance as you finish down yet another cup and wave down the servant to refill your cup.
Jacaerys however is too anger to say anything else just angrily shoving some of his chicken in his mouth. His other hand rests on the table clenched in the fist. He should not be so angry. He is embarrassed. Embarrassed that Aegon is most likely right. He was obviously not good at much, he could barely speak Valyrian, could barely control his temper-
A hand gets placed on his clenched fist and any thought in his mind ceases to exist. He looks over at you and he notices that they have just brought you a jug of win seemingly tired of having to walk over and refill your cup. You keep your gaze forward but he notices your clenched jaw and rapid blinking.
He has no clue if he’s right but due to your excessive talking and drinking as well as even your posture he could tell, you were stressed. Your mind was clearly not here, Which is why you were answering any questions throw at you. Why you seemed to not even mind the way the men were eyeing you down at the table. He had no clue why you were, he wishes he did. Wishes he could make it go away, he does not wish to see you so stressed.
He unclenches his fist, twists it around and hesitates before lacing his fingers with yours. He expects you to turn him away, or even glare at him but you don’t. Instead you allow yourself to grip his hand tight and your shoulders drop as you relax and let out a deep sigh.
His skin burns, like the two of your hands together rub together to create electricity which sends shockwaves through his soul. He is surprised your hands are so soft, he had expected them to be a lot rougher due to your excessive sword training but you must wear gloves almost all the time as they look like there are barely any scratches and marks on them, as if you have never even lifted your hands to do anything before. His thumb starts to rub against the back of your hand. He knows its not good to question you. Not that you will give him any answers anyways. but he hopes that you do not have to stress for long.
The tension in the room is much more palpable now. They had stopped grilling you about yourself. You almost want to leave but it would be in bad taste, you know they would fight and rhaenyra would want to leave the keep, you must prevent that from happening. “Do you mind if i ask her to dance?” You snap out of your thoughts and lightly turn in his direction. Haleana had just given a speak and looked rather down. Of course he would want to atleast try to cheer her up. but you know that is not a good idea. So you stand, letting go of his hand and his looks up at you in confusion as you walk over to the small group of people playing music.
You stand awkwardly as a cheerful jig started playing and everyone looks over at you. “Lets,,, dance?” Its a group jig. Everyone looks back and forth at one another. You reach your hand out in helaenas direction and she smiles as she stands up to grab it and jacaerys stands to join you soon after, rhaena baela and lucerys follow. Aegon shakes his head as his mother urges him to get him, she has to give a pointed look at the king before he rolls his eyes and stands, walking over to aemond who shakes his head at him causing Aegon to smile and grip his shirt to drag him with him.
Alicent and rhaenyra watch you all with a smile, even otto and daemon have a pleased look as they watch you all. Jacaerys is shocked you even know this tune, he had thought it was a westerosi tune but he guessed you have been in westeros longer than you have been in essos. The song ends and you all laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. You simply stand and watch all of them with a pleased look. Jacaerys looks at you with a smile and grips your hand tightly. He looked so happy. You wish you felt the same but you felt too much stress to share the same sentiment.
“This makes me so happy. To see you all get along. This is all I've ever wanted.” They all stand around and stare at one another as viserys speaks. Alicent stands and looks to viserys. “Isn’t this a great way to end the night.” Viserys eagerly agrees seemingly exhausted and everyone gives each other hushed goodnights as they walk out the room. You nod at rhaenyra and daemon who grabs your hand and thanks you before leaving. You can feel a gaze on you and turn to see otto staring at you. All you do is give him a dramatic bow your gaze never leaving his face as you walk off to join jacaerys who was waiting for you by the door.
“Allow me to walk you-” “No. I will walk you to your room. I don’t plan on sleeping just yet.” You grab his hand and drag him towards the direction of his room. He says nothing as he watches the back of your head, attempting to keep up with your long fast steps. Soon enough they are standing in front of his room and you do not turn back to look at him, instead breathing deeply and gripping his hand tightly. He turns you around to face him, “Please you must tell me what is wrong? Are you alright?” You shake your head and let go over him reaching down into the potted plant near his room and his eyes widen as he sees the long metal chains in your hands. “My lady..?”
“You will listen to me very closely. You are to tie these around your door, your windows and there is a shelf in the back of your room that you must secure this around as well,” He blinks at you as you shove them in his hands, “I do not understand-” “You must do this i beg of you,” “My lady-” “You will not leave your room. You will not open the door should you hear knocking you will not even answer if you hear one of your own families voice. unless it is my own. No matter what you do or see you will not you must promise me.”
You cannot falter to his puppy eyes. The clock is ticking until things start to explode and you are too worried too stressed, you cannot allow anything happen to him. You cup his cheeks and pull him closer to you, his breath hits your face and his eyes dart around your face. “Y/n…..” “Please jacaerys.”
He gulps. His past dreams and thoughts float their way up to his mind. He wants to kiss you, he is staring at your lips so intensely he is not even answering you. You notice this and sigh, shaking your head. “It is not a good time.” “If the situation is as dire as you make it seem maybe it is the best time.”
“I will kiss you later should you agree.”. Though his heart begins to race at the idea and he almost opens his mouth to eagerly agree he cannot stop the anxiety brewing in his stomach. “But what if you are in danger-” “No. You must stay. Agree to do it.” Your face turns to one of irritation at his continuous refusal. “What if i do not?” You press your face closer to him and he instinctively closes his eyes. “I guess i will just have to drag you to your bed and chain you there. Keep you there all night.” He lets out a shaky breath as you step back. That's all he wants. All he’s been thinking about.
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Would you join me?” You shake your head and look at him desperately. “please jacaerys. you must.” “Will you even tell me what this is for.” With you blank look he knows he wont get an answer so he sighs. “I will. as long as you promise to stay safe.”
You freeze. as he looks at you expectantly. He watches you look off to the side and think. He may not know what is going but he can tell you plan on doing something crazy. “I promise.” “do you mean it or are you just saying that.” You give him a flat look and roll your eyes. “I mean it. Kostan daor jikagon, mirri mēre kostagon gūrogon ao hen nyke.” He blinks and tilts his head. “Will you teach me what the things you say mean?”
You look at him once more before you begin to walk backwards, “Goodnight. jacaerys.” “Will you try to get some rest?” You say nothing and just turn your back to him walking off. He watches you until you are far out of his view and attempts to calm his pounding heart as he enters his room. His tub already ready for a bath, he does what you say after waving off a couple maids saying he has no need for them tonight and he wants to go to bed early. He is bad at tying it, he is sure you would be anger if you saw the terrible job he did.
He is unsure as to why you need him to lock up the cabinet in his room but he does it anyways with the most confusion. He strips himself and settles into his bath, its hot. Very hot actually. But it is a nice change from the cold bath he had taken yesterday. You are the only thing he can think about. He wonders what you are doing what is going on. But in a weird way he finds himself trusting you. He has no reason to. You have not shown yourself to be trust worthy. maybe it is the childish part of him or his own selfish desires but he believes you and will do anything you say.
His mind slowly drifts to your dress tonight. The way it flowed as you walked away, the exposed skin where he could see scares all over your legs and back but you still never showed your arms. Was there a reason for that? He wants to know everything about you. He dunks his head under the water as he begins to wonder what you are doing right now.
You stand in your room, back into your black leather outfit as you heart pounds. Looking at the variety of weapons on your table in front of you you hesitate before strapping them onto different spots on your outfit before you stand Infront of your door and freeze. wiping you hands in front of your armor you gulp. This is it. You cannot mess this up, what this has all been leading to. You stand and wait. and wait, and wait and wait and wait for your queue. When you hear the rushing of footsteps outside your door you open it. looking around the hallway before stepping out and swiftly making your way through the corridors with your hood now tossed up.
You were called to the temple about a month ago. it was the highest request from the high priestess herself. Only a few days after you had been elected.
‘There is something you must know. the flames have told me something of great danger.’
You sit in your chair held up above the ground with a bored look on your face. “What could be more important than ruling Essos?” You watch the priestess pace back and forth and sigh.
“The king is going to die soon.”
“That is a shock to no one.”
“no no you must understand they plan to kill the heir.”
This has you sitting up completely with wide eyes. “Whatever are you speaking of?”
“They plan to kill her, her and her children.”
You freeze, blinking slowly. “… her children.”
Jacaerys.
“They plan to gather in the keep. Should they leave war will begin, should they stay they will all die. You must go.”
You play with your dagger that you had tucked into your pocket and look at the priestess with a confident face. “What must i do?”
“They will not do it by their own hands. You must kill them.”
Viserys will be dead in minutes alicent knows this. She watches viserys mutter to himself. She feels sick, sicker than she’s ever felt when he would take her at night, sicker than he had announced to the council he will marry her. She does not want this to happen. She fears what will happen afterwards. The door of the room opens and she stands in shock looking at women who had just entered. “Rhaenyra?” Rhaenyra walks swiftly over to her father ignoring alicent completely and kneels down next to him. “Father?”
Otto walks in the room swiftly after and looks between them all alarmed and walks closer to alicent. “You will be a beautiful queen. I just, wish i could have seen it.” Otto eyes alicent who looks at him. Otto cannot allow this to happen. He already has the means to get rid of them set up, he had not accounted for rhaenyra showing up in this room right now. He can see a danger on the table and grabs it. Alicents eyes widen and she begins to steps towards her father. She does not want rhaenyra to die. That is the last thing she has ever wanted. So she is more than relieved when the door opens to the room once again and otto drops the dagger quickly.
Daemon, unlike rhaenyra who had seemingly ran in here straight from bed still in her night gown, daemon was completely dressed in his leather armor suit with his sword attached to his side quickly making his way over towards rhaenyra to comfort her as she had begun to cry as viserys retold the story of Aegon the conquer once more. Otto internally curses as he knows he cannot act with daemon around. The only real question he has is how did they know to come here? They were meant to be dead asleep in their rooms so the people he hired could come in and deal with them, but what were they doing outside of their room how had they even known to come in here?
Otto gives alicent a look before leaving the room. Alicent begins to worry what otto is going to do. She has no clue but based on what he was about to do she has her worries. But she cannot dwell on that right now she approaches closer to the other two and simply can only watch as viserys passes.
Jacaerys was unable to sleep. His thoughts filled with you, and with worry. What did you seem to be so concerned with? His eyes closed he continues to toss and turn in bed until he hears a thump against the cabinet you had him lock up. He sits up alarmed his eyes widening and heart racing. It continues to thrash until he can hear the sound of gurgling and he can hear what sounds like a body hitting the floor. He wants to get up and check it out but your words ring in his head. He can’t. He is choosing to trust you. he hopes he does not grow to regret this
Alicent is left in a room for the first time since viserys had passed. Daemon and rhaenyra had walked back to their room to mourn maybe an hour ago? She had no clue how much time had truly passed. She finally allows herself to cry. To cry about everything. She swears this is the first time she's cried in years, everything suddenly crashing into her in a sudden wave of anguish. Maybe she had a distain for the man and his blind ignorance of everything but she never truly wanted him to pass.
“Pick up your tears girl there are things we must do.” She looks up towards her father who walks in the room with a satisfied look on his face. “What did you do?” Otto simply shrugged, “What i had to do. There is nothing you can do now it is already done.” Alicent looks angry now, the tear streaks still left on her face as she glares at her father. “The king never would have wanted this!” “The king is dead. Now it is time we move. Come, let us discuss this more privately.”
Otto is horrified to walk into his room to a pile of bodies stacked in the middle of his room the one of the topic having the his back exposed with a familiar skull carved into it. The volantis currency coin honors skull. “That cunt.”
“‘That cunt’ is right.” The two of them jump and like you appeared out of thin air you approach from a far corner of the room. “You.” Otto glares at you and he notices all the blood splotches on your face and he sees the dagger you are holding in your hands, covered in blood.
“Yes, me.” “You have no reason to get involved in this. These are family affairs.” You tilt your head and alicent sees a crazy in your blank eyes she only sees in daemon. It is not clear to her. You do not have a distain for him. You are on the same grounds as him, you probably respect him more than anyone else. She has severely misunderstood you. and now she will pay the consequences for it.
“I have no reason to get involved? They are to be my family. I am to be married to him.” You walk past him and stand directly in front of alicent who looks down. “Here is what is going to happen. You two are going to stop this mindless nonsense. Rhaenyra is going to ascend the throne, daemon will take the position as hand, otto will return to oldtown, Me and jacaerys will take our place in dragonstone, baela and rhaenys will return to driftmark, and you, your children, rhaena and lucerys and the rest of her spawn will stay here.”
“The realm will never accept a women on the throne.” You do not turn back to otto as you address him. your gaze staying strong onto alicent. “They did not seem to have any complaints. Not until you and your Hightower cunts started to spread around that ridiculous rumor about her.”
“You must know it is true,” Alicent hands begin to shake as she speaks, “You cannot truly look at him and think he is of pure blood-” “You will not open your mouth to speak about him again. I let your foolish game go on for too long, it ends today.” Otto stares at the back of your head and scoffs. “You do not truly love the boy do you? You are incapable of love you are nothing but a monster-” “QUIET!” He flinches as you are louder than you've ever been, even during today's trial you had not been so loud.
“You will never speak or even so much as think about him again or else.” His eye twitches as you do not even turn in his direction and keep your gaze on alicent. “You don’t want things to get ugly do you? It would be a shame if something happened to your dear son in oldtown, hmmm what is his name?” You put your hand on your chin in a fake ponder as alicents eyes widen in horror, “Daeron..” “Daeron yes! thats it! it would be terrible should anything happen to him no?” “What have you done?” You open your mouth in a mock horror as your face remains blank, “Why i would never? what a horrible accusation? I just happen to know a few people in oldtown who happen to be willing to do whatever i say.” You get closer to alicents face and stare her down, “It would also be oh so horrible should anyone find out what happened to dear poor Dyane.” “How do you know that?” She whispers to you, she feels like her world is closing in, she feels dizzy and the only thing in her vision is you.
“You may have tried to pay her off but it is best to remember this, i have more. More of everything. More men, more money, more power. You will never win in a fight against me. I am the threat, your worst outcome. You do not wish to toy with me. For i will not kill you, that would be too good of a fate for you. I shall lock you in a room and each day present you with a piece of your children all chopped up day by day night by night until there is nothing left of them and of you because you will be nothing more than an empty shell of yourself.”
She falls to her knees in front of you and when she looks up she sees the closest thing to the stranger. Maybe this is the gods way of punishing her, for trying to change history, for deluding herself in her own self righteousness, It was not all undeserving but she is certainly no saint. She watches as you tilt your head at her and raise your eyebrows. “You will do what i say.” “You did all this for him?” It is the only thing she can find herself to say as you crouch down to be eye level with her. She sees a dark look in your eyes as you lean forward.
“I would do anything for him.”
Knocking at his door came. He does not speak, simply holding his tongue and waiting. “It is me.” He lets out a sigh of relief and quickly rushes towards the door to unlock it and hurriedly lets you in. “My lady, Are you hurt? What has happened?” “You should head to the main hall, The king has passed.” “Grandsire?” He looks over you wide eyed and he grips your arms tightly as he notices the blood. “You are hurt.” You shake your head and for the first time ever he sees you smile. “It is not my blood.” You are so beautiful. He hopes you are forever this happy as you appear to be in this moment.
He is shocked when you grab his face and give him a peck on the cheek. “I told you i would reward you.” “I was thinking of a different kiss my lady.” You raise your brows at him, “I had no clue you were so scandalous my prince. Your grandsire just died.” He smiles and leans himself in to kiss you-
“Jace!” He groans as you step away from him and turn towards the door right as soon as Lucerys stepped into view, out of breathe. “Oh Lady Maegyr.” He bows and you nod your head at him before he looks up at you with wide eyes as he sees the blood on you and looks to jacaerys who is glaring at his brother behind your back. “mother is calling to gather all of us.” “I will meet you in a moment.” He says with intention on finishing what you started. “No he will accompany you there. I must go back to my room but i will meet you all there, if the queen asks for me tell her to start without me.” He glares as you give him a nod swiftly avoid his hand reaching out to grab you.
Lucerys looks at jacaerys who groans and walks out the room with a grumble. He does not even bother to check if his brother is following him. He is more than ready to get whatever needs to be done over with so he can see you again. His mother rushes over and pulls him into a deep hug upon seeing him. “I am so glad you are alright.” he smiles at his mother reassuringly, “i am alright mother, i swear.” After greeting lucerys he walks to stand by daemon who gives him a sly smile. He does not say anything to jacaerys but by the look on his face jacaerys knows he wishes to say something to him.
“Where is Lady Maegyr?” “She had said something about returning to her room. She said to tell you to start without her.” Lucerys answers her quickly. Rhaenyra glances over at jacaerys before simply nodding. She begins to speak about how today will play out, She will be crowned within the next couple hours but before then a personal family only funeral will be held for viserys which is currently being set up. He wishes he could say he is sad to see viserys go but in truth he barely knew the man besides the few times he would speak to him as a young boy.
“My queen.” You walk into the room having changed into a simply black dress, it had been a hand-me-down dress rhaenyra left in your room for you only hours prior and she smiles as she sees you, rushing over to you. “is,,, everything alright?” You know the implications of her question, her worries about the Hightower's and her half siblings and you nod. “It has been taken care of completely do not worry yourself.” She looks at you bewildered at the tone behind your words, “You are not implying what i believe you are…” Her words trail off as alicent walks in somberly dressed in complete black while Aegon trails in behind her looking like the happiest man in the world, a big smile on his face as he stands and bows to rhaenyra, “My queen.” Rhaenyra raises her bows and blinks in shock at his overjoyed appearance and simply nods to him.
Everyone in the room is looking at alicent who does not lift her head or say anything for a few moments before bowing. “My queen.” “There is not need for you to call me that, alicent.” Alicent looks at her hesitantly, the look on her equivalent to that of a kicked puppy before she nods and looks back down. Rhaenyra turns back to everyone else in the room and sighs, “You are all dismissed. You will get ready for the funeral and will be retrieved later.” Everyone floods out back to their rooms to get ready the only one who does not have a somber face is Aegon who practically skips back to his room.
You linger behind for a moment with jacaerys as you look at rhaenyra, “Do you need me?” She simply shakes her head and places her hands on your shoulders. “You have done more for my family than i can even say, please, is there anything i can do for you?” You blink for a moment, unsure of what to do with the sudden praise and simply shake your head. “No my queen. for i already have what i want.” You glance over at jacaerys who blushes at your look and turns away with a cough attempting to push down his smile. He turns around as to not have to face his mother and is instead met by daemon knowing grin and he shakes his head at the young boy.
“Then i can only as you to accept my thanks. and you stand by my family today during the ceremonies.” You nod and bow at her. “It would be an honor my queen.” “You are to be family my dear of course you shall stand with us,” she wraps you in a hug. You stand frozen for a moment, unsure you can recall the last time someone had even hugged you. You hesitantly bring your arms up and wrap them around her. “Maybe later we can discuss you and jacaerys staying at driftmark.” She pulls away after whispering in your ear and nods to dismiss you.
You bow once more before turning to leave, not turning back to look at anyone else and as soon as you step out the door you feel waves of relief crash over you. You had succeeded, they were all alive and well, rhaenyra would be crowned and there would not be any issues from the Hightower’s. You must write to the high priestesses and inform them of your successes but you are suddenly stopped by a frantic rhaenys sprinting towards you with a letter in hand. “Corlys is awake!”
Rhaenyra walks over to jacaerys and places her hands on his cheeks, “My boy. Today is a big day for not just me you know.” He nods and stands up straight. The past couple years of work he’s done to prepare and the years he knows he will have to prepare even more. “Of course my queen.” She presses her lips against his forehead, “Go get dressed.” He nods and exits swiftly leaving alicent, rhaenyra and daemon to discuss god knows what and makes his way to his room attempting to ignore his growing anxiety.
The funeral is a somber service. You stand by jacaerys and grip onto his hand tightly as viserys corpse burns he hears you muttering prayers to yourself with your eyes closed as the fire grows bigger. He does not know much about the lord of light and its religion, he’ll have to do some research once he has the free time but he knows the importance of fire to you and he pulls you closer to him. You open your eyes and stare at the flames in front of you and lean your head against jacaerys’ shoulder and let the flames take over your light of vision, the lords comfort warming you as you feel like this is a sign from R'hllor himself as the flames get bigger and bigger he is content with your work.
Unlike the funeral the crowning is a much more joyful affair, everyone changing out of their mourning outfits and putting on more regal attire as everyone stands around and watches rhaenyra be crowned. Jacaerys send a weak smile his mothers way as he watches her. Him being named her heir is inevitable at this point. He has begun to shake out of nerves. He is not good enough to do this. He cannot do this. He feels you grab his hand this time expect it is absent of your glove and he sighs at the feeling of your warm skin against his. The feeling of your cold metal rings and your comforting touch manages to calm him down until the end of the ceremony where he lets out a sigh of relief as people begin to flood away.
“You must accept my apologies my queen for i must leave.” It was the grand feast afterward rhaenyra looks over to you in shock, you had just given her your congratulations and she places down cup she had been sipping from. “Is something the matter?” “Lord corlys has awoke your grace, the situation at stepstones is too dire for me to ignore any longer.” Jacaerys walks over to from leaving his place by lucerys to stand by you, “You are leaving?” You stare at him with a sadden look before you look down at the floor. “I must.” He attempts to ignore the gnawing feeling in his stomach at the thought of you having to return to war. The two of you have not even gotten to discuss the rapid change in your relationship, if he can even call it one.
“I do not wish for you to go.” He grabs your hands in his and whispers to you. You look at him with a conflicted look and shake your head. “I will return to you. Wait for me?” He nods. He will, he will wait until the end of time for you to come back. So only a few minutes later he watches with a bitter heart as you get on a horse and give him one last final look before you ride off, it takes everything in him not to chase after you. Daemon places his hand on his shoulder and turns him so they can walk back inside together. “Will she be alright?” Daemon is quiet for a moment, “That is a ridiculous question. She is a warrior, she will live.”
It has been over a month since he’s last seen you. Since he’s been struggling with his thoughts and feelings about you. His mother had sent him to dragonstone to take up his place in the ancestorial seat. It was tough to be so far away from his brothers and parents but he did his duty day by day. He wrote to you once but as always did not receive a response. You confused him, You seemed to content with him but you continue to ignore him. He does not understand you.
So his confusion only grows as some of your footmen arrive in dragonstone one day with boxes full of items. “It is the triarchs things Lord Velaryon.” “You bring them here?” “The triach has requested it.” He simply nods and allows them to bring the things in, He is shocked to see how many boxes their truly was. He had never assumed you were the type to care about material goods. “A lot of them are dresses my prince.” A servant tells him as he sees Jacaerys eyeing the boxes, “It is much colder here than it is in Essos so the lady had to have many new clothes made for her to wear here.” Jacaerys lets out an ah as he roams around the boxes, of course, he head heard how hot it is in Essos, apparently Volantis is the hottest out of them all. He shakes his head as it begins to be filled with him trying to imagine what you typically wear back at home. You must not be as covered up as you are here. You probably wear anything at all.
“Do you two plan to share a chamber or do you have a separate room for the lady?” This snaps jacaerys out of his thoughts and he begins to think it over. It would be inappropriate for you two to share a chamber before you are married, but the selfish part of him wishes for when you return back to him for you to stay with him, it makes him sick a the idea of you staying in a separate room from him. But he knows he must do the appropriate thing, tell him he will have a separate room prepared for him. “We will share the main chamber.” Yet he cannot. The servants nod and begin to move the boxes towards the main chamber.
The hour turns late and the sun has since set until your people finally leave with a bow and all your stuff has been placed all over what was once just his chambers. He is at first overwhelms by the smell of you but he soon smiles to himself as he walks around the room. He did not have much stuff, he was never one for material goods but you however had many little trinkets and decorations placed all over the room. He notices a large vase in the room filled with beautiful red roses, he sees a tapestry of the symbol of the lord of light hanging near the bed, he notices the closet the once looked bare now completely filled with a variety of custom made dresses. He walks around the room with a smile on his face as he admire all the little signs of you all ober the room.
What does catch his attention however is a box places on the bedside table. It is a plain wooden box with no clear sighs of what would be in it. He should not open it. He should walk away and leave your personal stuff alone but he cannot stop himself from opening it. He is greeted by a sight he did not expect. Anything he had ever given you, from the letters, the flowers his mother forced him to pick and give to you, even his handkerchief he had lent you one time, everything laid neatly and organized inside the box. he picks up the letters and swipes through them. He is shocked that you had even opened them so much as kept them, he has sworn to himself you had thrown them away. But if you kept them why did you never respond? You continue to confuse his mind and his heart.
“And i thought it was improper to look through someone else's things.” He freezes as he hears the voice he’s been waiting to hear for over a month now. Whipping his head around he sees you, standing clad in your armor shaking your head at him with a soft smile on your face. “And imagine my surprise when the maids told me my stuff was placed in your chambers at the princes request. I never knew you were so scandalous my prince.” He quickly stands and to get a good look at you. You looked like not even a day had passed, just as beautiful as the last time he saw you. He hesitantly smiles. as you walk over to him and take the letters out of his hands and gently place them back in the box like they were your most prized possession.
“You kept them?” You nod as you close up the box and pick it up. “of course i did.” “But you never responded.” This has you looking down and turning away from him. “I did not think you wanted me too.” This has him laughing awkwardly as he watches you closely. “Whatever do you mean?” You place the box on the windowsill and turn back towards him, fiddling around with your armor. “I, am not very good at,” You put your hands back and forth between the two of you, “This. all i would do is mess it up.” He walks closer to you and he can feel his heart pounding, he wants you to mean what he thinks you mean. “Why do you think so?” “My father was a very strict man, he taught me that being friendly will get me nowhere, men don’t like talkative women. So when all you seemed to do was want to talk to me. I was scared.”
He feels his heartbreak. He thinks back onto your brief interactions that month ago and he begins to feel guilty. You just had no clue how to talk to him no matter how much you wished to. and whenever you would try he would say something rude to you. He feels like shit. “I am so sorry. What can i do to make it up to you?” You tilt your head at him in confusion, “Whatever did you do?” “I had been so rude to you-” “It is of no ones fault other than my own.” “That is certainly not true, you have been so so kind to me. to my family. and i have been nothing but a piece of shit.” You giggle at his foul language and shake your head. “Then we are both at fault.”
The two of you laugh. He is so happy. He had been feeling lonely this last month it is so nice to finally be with someone else, especially since it is you. “How is stepstones?” “The war is done. for now atleast, who knows when they could come crawling back up.” “So do you plan on returning to Essos?” “I will be staying here.” “Aren't you one of the rulers of Essos?” “They will be just fine without me, should anything dire come up you should come with me.” “truly?” “You ever been?” “no. but i have always wanted to see it.” You squeeze his hands as you stare at him, “Then i will take you. I will take you anywhere you wish to go.”
His eyes drop to your lips. He is dying to kiss you. He must. He will not live a second longer if he does not. “May i kiss you my lady?” You grip his cheeks and pull him to you. The second your lips tough he feels like he has been lit on fire. Everything else in the world fades as the only thing he can see and think about is you. Your lips move together like the perfect song, working in perfect sync in harmony to create something glorious. He does not want to pull away not even when his lungs begin to hurt from the lack of air he continues to kiss you. He never wants this moment to end. But it does when the two of you separate, breathing heavily. You look at him and he can see the wanting glaze over your eyes, it is unbelievable he is able to control himself.
He tried to pull you back into him once more but you put your hand between your lips. “If this is truly going where i believe it is going can you allow me to bath first? I do not wish to smell like fish and blood and shit.” He shakes his head as he tried to pull you back in, too greedy to even let you slip from his grasp for a second. “I do not mind.” “But i do. Please.” He groans and lets you go as much as he does not wish to. “Fine.” “Do you wish to wash me?” His eyes widen at the idea and his mouth might have even begun to water. “I do not know my lady. Is that a good idea?” “If the prince was not so scandalous it might not be but maybe i was wrong to suggest it.” “I will do as you ask.” “You are a fool.” “Your fool.” He watches as you flush at his words and he calls for the maids to draw you a bath.
He can not help but stare at you as you take off your amour. The leather pieces pilling up on the table as you relieve more and more of yourself to him. It could be poetic, but jacaerys can’t think about anything else like that right now. Not when you stand in front of him, he turns away when you begin to slide off your under clothes. “You do not wish to look at me?” “I am nervous to what i will do when i do my lady.” You say nothing in return but he hears a couple more items drop to the floor and your footsteps on the ground walking towards the bathroom. “Are you going to bath me or not?”
He quickly stands and his hands shake as he makes his way towards the bathroom. He is surprised his knees do not buckle under him as he sees you. Sitting in the tub, steam hitting you oh so perfectly and your bare arms rests against the sides of the tub and he finally sees you fully. “Pick your jaw off the floor my prince.” He can not. He wishes to get on his knees and worship you, he swears he has never seen anything as beautiful as the sight of you. he had thought the most gorgeous you could look is when he saw you in that dress but you look so much better here.
He hesitantly walks over to the bath and kneels right next to you. He grabs the soap and grabs your arm as you carefully watch him. He lightly turns your arm so he can get a full few of the tattoos on your arm. It is a beautifully intricate dragon, it almost completely covers your whole forearm and he can see you have a matching one on your other arm. “What are they for?” “In Volantis when you are of old blood it is customary for you to get dragon tattoos on your arm to symbol your relation to Valyria.” He traces the design with his fingers, admiring the art and the act of you showing this part of you to him. He places a kiss on the dragons head before he begins to lather your arm in soap.
No more words are spoken between the two of you as he washes your back, then your other arm before he moves onto grabbing your hair products and running his fingers through your hair and scratches his nails into your scalp. He hears you hum, your eyes closed in delight and he gulps as he begins to throb against his pants. He watches as you dunk your head under the water to get the product out and you sit back up, looking at him as you run your hands down your face to push away the water. “Why don’t you join me? It would be easier for you to clean me if you were also in here.” He hesitates, nerves build up in his stomach as he opens his mouth but no words come out. “Are you sure my lady?” You smile and nod at him, leaning your head back against the tub to watch him.
He stands and begins to unbutton his tunic, tossing it into some corner of the room. Unlike him you do not take your eyes off him as his bare chest comes into view or even when he begins to unbutton his pants. “My lady is very shameless.” “Is it so wrong i look at you?” He shakes his head before he hesitantly pulls down his pants and he is suddenly standing bare in front of you. He hisses as he cock jumps up to slap him in the stomach leaving you to laugh before he hurriedly moves to sit across from you. The tub is big enough for the two of you to sit side by side but he does not even dare to come that close to you. “You still have a job to do.”
He picks back up the soap and drags it over your collarbone. He watches as the soap bubbles slide down to lay on your breasts and groans to himself as he continues to scrub your down. Ignoring your breasts he instead focuses on your stomach and sides. It feels so intimate, to rub his hands all over your body especially when you continue to let out your own hums of pleasure.
He runs his finger along the long scar down your chest and stomach. “It was a gift from my father. When i turned of age and he found out i was able to be elected. People had begun to suggest i should be nominated in his place. He made sure i would be bedridden for months. They could not nominate me that year.” He leans his head down and presses a kiss against the top of the scar at your neck. “I am glad he is already gone for i would have to deal with him myself.” You reach your hand on his arm and smile at him, nothing more is said but the look in your eyes says enough.
He tries his best to not look between your legs as he washes your legs one by one, he does not allow himself to linger at your thighs before he swiftly pulls his hands away from you. His hands burning as if he had just touched the sun. The bath was now cold. The two of you simply laid their for awhile before you sat up and grabbed his face. “Thank you my prince.” “Jacaerys, jace, not my prince.” You press your lips against his and he groans. The kiss is full of much more fever and desperation this time. He barely believes this is real. He must be imaging this as he had over a moon ago.
You take your hands away from his face and slide them down his chest as he feels your tongue prodding against his mouth he pulls back suddenly causing you to freeze. “Did i do something wrong?” He shakes his head, out of breath as he speaks, “No no nothing wrong. I have imagined this far too often for it to be anything wrong. it is just, i am very sensitive and if you touch me just once i will not be able to perform again.” He hopes you understand what he means. He hopes you know you are not rejecting him, but he wishes for this to go right, and if he is being selfish he does not wish to watch his seed float around in the water but instead flow out of you.
He watches as you stand up and he cranes his head up to look at you. You are the pure image of beauty. He could die now and be content with how he lived for simply getting to breath and stand in your presence is enough for him. He watches as you step out of the tub and he cant help but stare at your ass as you turn your back and walk out of the room, you turn your neck and look at him. “Are you coming?” He quickly stands and follows after you, neither of you bothering to care about the dripping water all over the bathroom and the bedroom. You have sat down on the bed and hold out your hand to pull him on top of you.
He pulls you into another kiss as the two of your skins press against each other. He feels so hot. He hands press against your face as he opens his mouth and allows the two of your tongues to intertwine with one another. His lips leave yours as they instead they begin to trail down your jaw and down your neck as his hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. The two of you stay like that for awhile, and expected to stay like that the whole time but are more than shocked when he grips your hips tightly and flips you around so you are on top and he is on the bottom, you sitting directly over his abs. When you look down at him in confusion he simply smiles at you.
“It is only right you are above me, for you are a goddess who deserves to be worshipped.” His hands slide up your stomach and begin to fondle your breasts as you throw your head back and moan. “gaomagon daor tepagon qrīdrughagon aōha dōna udra sīr easily syt iksan naejot qūvy ilagon se qēlossās se se jēdar syt ao” he easily recognizes the words. The same ones you had told him in the library that faithful day in the keep. “What does it mean?” You moan as he thumbs begin to flick against your nipples and look down at him. “do not give away your sweet words so easily for i am willing to tear down the stars and the sky for you.”
He can not respond, not when he watches as your hips begin to move along his abs, fuck, he can see you essence leaving a trail on him as you use him for your own pleasure. He would let you, use him all day, any day, if it meant he would get to hear the sounds you are currently making, the way your face twists in pleasure with your eyes closed. “Have you ever touched yourself my lady?” You let out a meek hum as you throw your head back, he's hands move from your breasts to your hips to help guild you. “I have Jace, everyday, i can not help it for i am thinking of you.” He lets out his own string of curses at your admission. He watches as you reach one of your hands to your folds and your moans only get louder.
He wants to do that. He wants to know every inch of you to be able to pleasure you in all ways he can. He wants to be the reason you get louder, he wishes for you to desire him, to have to need him like air like he needs you. “Teach me how to do that.” He is more than happy when you remove your own hand and grab his, moving it to slide under you and he curses as he feels your wetness dripping on him. “Are you supposed to be that wet?” “It is because of you Jace.” He feels you move his fingers to push past your folds and he can feel a hard bulb under this fingertips. “That. touch that Issa jorrāelagon (my love),” You moan as you feel his rougher fingers begin to press against it. “In circles, ugh yes like that, you can press harder.”
The roughness of his fingertips feel much better than your own fingers and you can’t help but move your hips faster against him. His fingers move faster against your clit and you can feel the burning in your stomach grow larger. “Issa jorrāelagon, im gonna make a mess.” He groans at your words and uses one hand to move your faster and the other hand to continue to play with your clit. “Please do, fuck, I want to see it, fuck.” Can a man cum untouched? He has no clue but the way his cock is throbbing he swears he is about to burst at simply watching your pleasure. He feels the rush of liquid begin to pool and cover his hand. He moves his fingers and moves them towards your opening as he can not get over the way it feels, the hot liquid pooling over his fingers.
You jump when he pushes two of his fingers inside of you, hissing as he shoves your own cum back inside of you as he touches your gummy walls. “Jace,,,” You moan out as your head drops forward to stare at his wrist. He says nothing but moans as he begins to thrust his fingers in out, barely pulling them out before he shoves them right in. He is fueled by your moans, the way your hands claw at his chest as he is simply amazed by you. You do not know if your walls are covered with your own essence or your own cum as he adds another finger and presses them against your walls.
He wishes to memorize you, to keep this locked tight in his memory for him to look back on. He can barely believe what he is doing and hopes he is doing it right. But when you begin to move against his fingers he knows he must be doing something right. The only words you speak are his name, over and over again as he fingers begin to move faster and faster inside you. The pit in your stomach grows once again and your begin to drag your nails down his chest in pleasure. “I am about to cum jace.” He says nothing this time only moving his free hand to play with your clit which sends you over the edge. He does not remove his fingers are stop his movements simply enjoying the withering pleasure you are feeling
“Please Jace i wish to feel your cock.” This has him removing his hands and you hiss at the sudden emptiness. You watch as he places each of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, like your own taste is his own personal pleasure. His eyes are cloudy in a haze as he watches you sit up with shaky knees and adjust grab his dick in your hands. He moans as you rub your thumb over his tip, spreading around his precum and pressing down against it. “Do not tease me y/n please.”
He watches as you sit right above him, you sink down low enough that just his tip is rubbing against your folds. You use his tip to push your folds aside and slowly you begin to sink down onto his cock. If he was told this is how it felt after he died he would have believed it. He has never felt a greater pleasure than he has right now. He understands why people consider this act sinful, for everyone would be doing it everyday if it were not. He watches his cock slowly disappear and he lets out a whimper as you sit all the way down.
He can see the dent in your stomach and reaches his hand to touch it. This was unbelievable. He stares at you, the way you look down at his hand and cover it with your own, pressing down causing him to groan and you to moan. Unconsciously you readjust yourself, lifting yourself on him just so slightly just to slide back down and he curses.
That felt so good, he wants you to do that again. “Can i move?” You are clearly as desperate as he is and he hears it in your voice. “fuck please my lady please.” Your hips lift and you come crashing back down onto him. The bed underneath you rocking with the action as you do it over and over and over again. Slowly at first but you begin to create a rhythm as his hands grab your tits to squeeze them.
The room is filled with the sounds of your slamming against him, the wet sounds of him pushing into you and your combined moans. If this made him a sinner so what? He was not religious and he would refuse any god that said this was not the most holy and pleasurable thing to do on earth. He begins to move his hips up to meet yours and he watches your face contort. “We must do this, ugh, everyday.” You nods feverishly as both of his hands moving to your hips to help you bounce faster as his hips begin to harsh slam up into you. “Yes, everyday, every night, ughh, everywhere,” You let out an especially high pitched whimper as he begins to toy with your clit. “All over the castle.”
Yes he would like that, so much. He can see it now, the way he would allow you to sit on the throne as he pounded into you. The way you would sit under the table during meetings and suck him dry while he attempts to maintain his composure, fuck he’ll do this everyday of his life for as long as he lives. He can feel that familiar feeling brewing ever so close in his stomach, “are you close my lady?”
You let out a rush of hushed yes’s as you begin to move faster. “Cum with me my lady, cum please.” You let out more yes’s as he feels you throbbing around his cock causing him to burst. You cry out at the feeling of his hot seed spilling webs inside you as he suddenly flips you around and continues to pound into you as your back hits the bed. “Cum my lady, fuck.” The change of angles hits you so well along with the sounds of wetness splashing below you as he cock pushes his cum deeper inside you and all around your walls.
You suddenly splash over him with a cry and your back arches off the bed. He can feel you hit his upper stomach, all over his thighs and even his chest. You looked so beautiful, the way your eyes shut closed so tight there were crinkles around your eyes and the way your teeth and jaw clenched as he feels you continue to pulse against him, liquid trickling around his cock and out to drip on the bed.
He leans his forehead against yours and the two of you just lay there for awhile. attempting to catch your breathes. He brings one of his hands to caress your cheek and you open your eyes to look at him. “Jace.” “I love you.” You smile, a wide grin fills you face as you chuckle. “I have loved you for a long time Jacaerys.” He kisses you lightly and the two of you simply lay like that until you fall asleep. sharing pecks and tiny whispers of admiration. He can barely believe he got so lucky end up with a woman like you. Someone who loved him so much they would do to the ends of the known world for him even if he had said some cruel things to you. He loved you he loved you he loved you and he was so happy you loved him too.
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a.n: This is genuinely the most crazy project of my whole writing career LMAO if you've made it this far i really want to say thank you. It's because of the endless support I've gotten on my recent stuff that really gave me the confidence to write something like this. I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS i love you all so much <3
perm jacaerys taglist: <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife
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cantsayidont · 5 months
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In an undated letter written in the late 1950s, reproduced in THE LETTERS OF JRR TOLKIEN, Tolkien alludes to the legal difficulties Sam faced after returning from the Grey Havens at the end of LORD OF THE RINGS:
When Master Samwise reported the ‘departure over Sea’ of Bilbo (and Frodo) in 1421, it was still held impossible to presume death; and when Master Samwise became Mayor in 1427, a rule was made that: ‘if any inhabitant of the Shire shall pass over Sea in the presence of a reliable witness, with the expressed intention not to return, or in circumstances plainly implying such an intention, he or she shall be deemed to have relinquished all titles rights or properties previously held or occupied, and the heir or heirs thereof shall forthwith enter into possession of these titles, rights, or properties, as is directed by established custom, or by the will and disposition of the departed, as the case may require.’
You can see how the residents of Hobbiton might have seen Sam's return as the premise of a kind of Agatha Christie mystery plot: favorite servant of eccentric middle-aged local resident departs on an unexpected journey with his master; returns home alone two weeks later; and then conveniently produces a copy of said eccentric local resident's new will, naming the servant the heir to all his property — and the only account the servant can offer of his master's whereabouts is a preposterous story about Elves. Suspicious! Very suspicious indeed!
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A Quick Pick Me Up (Yandere Neko Cafe x Reader)
Hey, ya'll, I know ya'll like my fandom work, but I promise you my OC stuff is just as good. Please read!!!!! I just felt like doing this today! Reader is gender neutral. Also YANDERE BEHAVIOR IS UNACCEPTABLE IN REAL LIFE! IT AINT CUTE, IT'S ABUSE! SEEK HELP IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAVE SOMEONE IN YOUR LIFE LIKE THIS!
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Picture belongs to @kaffee-und-liebe
Tw: Yandere tendencies, some platonic yanderes (the kids and Cocoa), some slightly suggestive content, cursing, Donut (you'll know what I mean later), mentions of abuse, and other possibly triggering content
MINORS DNI
You live in a city that is made up of mostly apartments, that don't allow you to keep a cat much less a hybrid. Too bad because you really love cats and cat hybrids. They're just so cute with their soft ears and tails and fierce expressions. When they purr? You almost die!
Which is why you are currently vibrating in front of the newest cat cafe where you can interact with cat hybrids and cats alike. It was also really close to your apartment building, so it was meant to be. The cafe was a cute brown stone building covered in vines and flowers with a black sign that in golden letters spelled out "Lucky Kitty Cafe". You felt pretty lucky standing in front of the building right now. You took a breath and entered the building.
Ding~
A set of bells tinkled cutely as your eyes widened in amazement. The place was catastic! There were paintings of cats, a cat tree decorated with potted plants, chairs with little cat ears on the back, and much more. A strange looking person with a long and thin face and vitiligo and mysterious blue green colored eyes looked up with a friendly smile. They wore head scarf with a hat with cat ears on top and a beige shirt with caramel accents.
"Welcome to Lucky Kitty Cafe, I'm Shopkeeper, are you here to see our cats and cat hybrids?" Their voice was a soothing androgynous voice. They were pretty hot not going to lie. "Yes, I'm here to see the cats!" "Wonderful~" Shopkeeper purred as they grabbed a pen and paper. "Would you like anything to eat or drink while you wait?" You smile gleefully at Shopkeeper and nod. "I'll have (cafe order) please." Shopkeeper jotted your order down and nodded. "Good taste, we'll have that order out right away for you Mx..."
"(Y/N)"
Mx. (Y/N) what a beautiful name...I can tell the staff will just love you~
For the privacy of our staff, they have been assigned names of popular cafe drinks and snacks. Their personalities our meant to cater to our wide clientele. Please take not of the following rules:
Rule 1.: Do not pick up cats
Rule 2: No pulling tails and ears of cats or staff
Rule 3: Harassment of any kind towards our cats, staff, or other customers will get you sent straight to Butch
Rule 4: Our staff are playing a role to increase your enjoyment of the cafe. The way they act in the cafe does not necessarily constitute how they act outside of the cafe.
Rule 5: Buy at least one item on the menu, this is a business after all
Rule 6: DON'T MESS WITH OUR DARLING 
Meet Our Staff
Macchiato:
Macchiato or Macchi is the unofficial mascot of "Lucky Kitty Cafe" she is a calico hybrid who is the sweetest person around. Her cheerful and bright attitude will brighten up even the grumpiest of people's days. She always is the first to greet new customers.
You were stunned when the tritone beauty perched herself directly on your lap, her orange eyes shining brightly as she bounced up and down barraging you with questions.
She was so excited to see a cute new face around the establishment! Your hands were so gentle as you pet her soft ears. She didn't feel the slightest bit of shame letting you know how much she enjoyed it with her loud purring. When your food and drink came you offered to share some with her.
With her?
She almost fell in love right then and there, no one ever offered to share their food with her in such a genuine way. The food was some of the best she ever had since she got to share it with you. She couldn't help but laugh as you gushed over the cats, you were more adorable than anyone here!
She's probably the first to go yandere, she can't help it when your sweeter than the sugary treats Shopkeeper bakes. She is one clingy motherfucker, so she'll always have some body part of yours close to her. She will also insert herself in any interaction you have with others in the cafe or outside. Don't ask her why she's here just pet her pretty tritone hair!
She wants to be the only hybrid in your life which means you may wake up with her snuggled into your arms blinking those sunset orbs at you cutely.
"Morning (N/n)! Did you sleep well? I know I did~
Collects any trash you leave behind. Dirty napkins? Now hers. Straws? She's wrapping her tongue around while thinking indecent thoughts. Lost your cute keychain? Well good luck ever finding it again because now it's a part of her shrine to you.
Don't let her cute face fool you, she will do whatever it takes to ensure that you are hers.
"(N/n) left their Chapstick here. Mmm (N/n) it's like sharing an indirect kiss with you~"
Espresso:
Meet the cafe's very own black cat Espresso. He is very quiet and aloof at first. Most people never interact with him as he will leave when people attempt to start a conversation with him. No one understands why Espresso even took a job here as he's clearly not a people hybrid.
He is no doubt one of the most handsome hybrids most people see. Beautiful dark skin and long dreadlocks accompanied with silky black ears and tail and intelligent brown eyes. His voice is very deep and mellow much like a good espresso.
He is a cat magnet as even the shyest cats can be found purring contently on his lap. He lets them hang around him as he sketches pictures of the cafe.
"You're a really good artist"
Espresso jerks at the sudden sound of your voice, how did you manage to sneak up on him? He froze as every impulse in him was confused on how to react. Run away? Thank you? Let you sit down with him? It's clear to you that the Windows shut down noise is taking place in his head right now.
"I'm sorry for startling you, I'll be on my way now."
It didn't take long for other cats and Macchi to distract you, but Espresso couldn't get the interaction out of his head. Yes, you scared him, but you didn't pressure him into conversation. You simply complimented his art before leaving.
Why did a small part of him wish you stayed?
In order for him to go yandere for you, you have to let him approach you in his own time. You must be patient as Espresso isn't used to engaging with customers like the other staff are. He is probably the last if not close to last who go yandere for you, which means you'll have an ally for when the others get too touchy.
He is very aware that the feelings that he is developing aren't the healthiest, so he tries to keep his feelings to himself. He adores your calming presence and how you can bring out the best in anybody. He begins subconsciously drawing you more and more in different scenarios. Most relatively innocent but there are enough indulgent sketches that he doesn't allow you to look through his sketch book without him supervising.
However, jealousy begins to gnaw at his gut when he sees you interacting with the others. When did Butch get so protective of you? Why do you hang around that bastard Donut? Why can't he have you all to himself? He starts to use the trust that you've built towards him to convince you to spend less time with the others. Besides that, he's one of the most harmless yanderes on this list.
"Oh, you're here, did the others smother you too much? They won't bother as long as you stay with me my muse."
Donut:
Oh boy, you got this gremlin's attention, you really are too sweet for your own good, aren't you? Donut is an orange Munchkin cat hybrid and the shortest adult of the staff (the kids are platonic yandere for you). The definition of short guy syndrome but he hides it behind a cute facade. He lays it on thick for customers to give him fat tips (get you mind out of the gutter). A little bat of the eyelash here and a flirty wink there and everyone is eating out of the palm of his hand.
"Oh, a new customer, it's so nice to meet you I'm Donut~"
"Nice to meet you Donut."
"Hee hee, do you mind if I sit on your lap?"
He plops himself on your lap and starts not so subtly grinding on you which makes you very uncomfortable, you just met this guy. Plus, this is not the place for finding a random hookup. You push him off your lap and tell him that his actions made you uncomfortable. Donut begins boiling inside. You ungrateful bitch! How dare you turn him down! Him! HIM!!!! He yells in frustration later in the empty break room. Why were you being so rude when he was just being nice? (No dude that's sexual harassment) He's made it his personal mission to seduce you and then when you fall for him laugh in your face.
Donut turns up the clueless and the sexiness up by a hundred and ten percent. He wears extra skimpy and tight-fitting shorts and skirts (with lacey panties and/or thongs) as well as unbuttoning half the buttons on his pastel pink shirt, showing you his surprisingly defined chest. He skips around with an innocent grin, only for his actions to be ignored. You evil SLUT, how dare you pretend to not see what he's doing? He should teach you to be grateful and get down on your knees like a good whore does. He ignores all the other customers in favor of hatefully glaring at you from the corner.
He follows you out of the cafe and drags you into an alley nearby pinning you to the wall (he's actually deceptively strong). He screams all of the feelings he's been bottling up towards you with tears in his eyes. You stand still for a moment unsure of what to do and then you feel him go limp. Okay this is super awkward, the guy in front of you went on a nice guy spiel and then passed out. Unfortunately, you have some morality and decide not to leave him out here when your apartment is right across the street. You scoop him up and walk to your apartment (he's really light).
Donut wakes up in a stranger's bed and thinks he took his anger out by sleeping with some rando for a quick ego boost. However, he sees you coming into the room with a plate of breakfast and set it right in front of him. Why was he at your place? You explained what happened and Donut is very embarrassed, he can't believe he was vulnerable with the person he despises with all his heart. He prepares for you to mock him cruelly, but instead you treat him with the kindness he'd never show for you. Why are you such a mature person? It makes him so mad that he starts blushing, his heart starts pumping... did you always look so handsome?
Uh oh
Donut goes from being horrible to you to being the most delusional being on the planet. You treated him with kindness, which must mean you love him and much as he loves you. He does the cute act except this time its genuine and less sexual (he learned boundaries for you so be grateful (don't he still sucks)). However, he doesn't afford the same luxury to others. He sees the way others look at you and he doesn't like it one bit. He is cruel and sadistic towards rivals all while acting like an absolute angel towards you.
"Welcome home darling! How did I get in your apartment? You invited me here silly, now come and snuggle with your one and only~"
Sugar:
Sugar is a complete MILF looking like a golden age Hollywood actress in her work uniform. She is a Turkish Angora hybrid with gorgeous long white hair plated in victory curls and bewitching heterochromic eyes (left brown and right blue with a beauty mark under the left one). Sugar was a show hybrid like her mother before her but had to leave when she became pregnant with a stray hybrid's kittens. She is very gentle and motherly with an elegant femme fatale aura to her. Sugar is considered second in command to Shopkeeper and very respected for her age and wisdom (she's in her early to mid-forties because we love older women here).
Popular with old and young alike, you were starstruck when the snow-haired beauty and spoke to you with her lightly accented voice (she's Turkish). You felt completely comfortable with Sugar and were able to get some sound financial advice from her, as Sugar knew what it was like to be young and struggling to pay bills.
"Remember that charity is no only an act of generosity but also tax deductible."
"Yes mommy."
"What?"
"What?"
She found your slight crush on her adorable as it was flattering for younger people to find her attractive. However, she didn't want to have to parent her partner as well as her twins. She doesn't immediately go yandere nor is she the slowest to go yandere for you. This feeling changed when she saw how well you got along with Cookie and Muffin (her twins). You were able to get them to listen to you as well as break up their fights which was a feat that very few outside herself could do. Color her impressed.
"Mommy is (Y/N) our new parent?"
"Now kids we need to be tactical about this-"
"They helped find a crying child's parents."
"Cookie, Muffin, say hello to your new stepparent."
Very few younger people and hybrids knew the subtle art of seduction like Sugar did, which she believes gives her advantage compared to the others. She doesn't constantly badger you for your time like Macchiato, Donut, and Cappuccino do (she's only truly worried about the romantic rivals but Cocoa is on thin ice sometimes). Nor does she play it too subtle like Espresso and Croissant do. She invites you to "platonic" dates out with her and her children to parks and restaurants. She also will subtly touch you whether it be smoothing wrinkles on your outfit or giving you chaste kiss on the cheek (she says she greets everyone that way, but you have yet to see that). She knows she attractive and how to flirt in a way that makes you blush but not uncomfortable.
She's seen the cruelties of the world and hopes that you won't have to go through have the horrors she's faced. The world isn't very kind to single moms, especially older single moms. She wants you to be happy and safe in her home, as a cute little stay at home spouse. Let her do all the hard work outside while you stay home and do some work inside (she won't let you strain yourself though). She also is a doting and spoiling yandere. She's very generous and giving towards you (even in bed) and will have all your desires met except leaving.
She's a master manipulator and will use her children as a way to get you to consider staying with her. They love you so much, you wouldn't break their hearts, right? (the kids are also manipulative little shits as well) The only people she would consider sharing (this is only in dire situations) you with is Shopkeeper and maybe Bruce. Besides that, she won't rest until you are snuggled into her chest in the bed you share.
"(Y/N) let's go out again, the kids love hanging out with you dear and I wouldn't want to disappoint them. You will, wonderful!"
Cookie and Muffin: 
Meet the mischievous mixed breeds who work occasionally beside their mother. Cookie and Muffin are loved dearly by kids their age and lonely older patrons. They love sweets and messing with member of the staff they don't like (Donut and Cappuccino mostly) with very intricate pranks. They aren't always there and met you by chance as their mother had to pick them up early from school (Muffin and Cookie can get violent with each other and the only one who can break them up is momma Sugar). Muffin is the girl with short gray hair with a single white streak and Cookie is the boy with long white hair with a single gray streak.
They saw you playing with the kittens and wanted to play too! You rough house with the twins and don't get mad when Muffin bites you a bit too hard (kitten hybrid teeth are sharp). Cookie got jealous that you are paying more attention to Muffin and the two started fighting. Normally no one is brave enough to break the twins apart from each other, but you bravely stand between them enduring multiple scratches until they stopped.
They can't believe they hurt their new playmate; their mom is going to kill them. Both start crying while apologizing profusely for hurting you. Instead of yelling at them you scratch their ears gently and tell them it's okay. Your touch is just as calming as their mother's, wait why did you stop? Keep petting them please!
They're kids so they go yandere pretty quickly as they aren't romantic interests, and you sneak them pastries you bought (much to Sugar's dismay). Both are always trying to monopolize your time and will scratch and bite any staff or customer who interrupts their "(Y/N) Time". When their mom starts having a romantic interest in you, they're ecstatic, you get to become their new parent. While they are kids, they aren't dumb as they notice other staff members looking at you the same way that their mom does. They won't let just anyone marry you, only mommy can (they can't wait to call you their baba*)!
Their pranks become almost deadly in nature towards rivals of their mom. They never get in trouble for almost killing the delivery guy because they're just kids, what do you expect? Also inherit the manipulative trait from their mother. Oh no their babysitter mysteriously quit! Could you watch them? You come over only to find that it was an elaborate ruse done by the twins, so you have family movie night with them and Sugar (they "fall asleep" on you so you're forced to spend the night). Mommy is sad because she remembered how daddy left them. Could you cheer her up?
They aren't too dangerous yanderes besides the semi deadly pranks, but they aren't to be underestimated because they're children. They want a happy family with their favorite playmate, and they'll do anything they can to get it.
"(Y/N), Muffin pulled on my hair!" "Not before Cookie bit my finger!"
"Baba don't leave!" "Yeah, we'll stop fighting as long as you're here!"
Croissant:
Ah the intelligentsia of the cafe, its own certified genius Croissant. Croissant is a lover of reading, fine art, and playing his beloved cello. He brings with him a refined aura and a thirst for knowledge. He's a blonde American Curl who always wears his beloved red scarf, even indoors. He has semi long curly blond hair in a mullet and the prettiest hazel eyes. He's got freckles that he hides with makeup. He is popular with mainly older people who enjoy engaging in discourse with him on a wide variety of subjects. He also helps tutor kids occasionally in the cafe's break room.
Croissant saw you sitting in the corner reading a book while sipping on (beverage of choice), the book you were reading happened to be one he knew about. He asked if you were enjoying the book, which caused your eyes to light up. You began to ramble to him about the book you were reading which Croissant found very adorable. Finally, he found someone that had a similar interest to him.
The two of you begin to have a routine where you would have interesting conversations about your individual interests, where each one of you would come out learning more about each other. Croissant started noticing little things about you, like how one dimple is bigger than the other when you smile, or that your nose scrunches up when you're confused. That's totally a normal thing to notice about your friend, right?
Right?
Croissant is one of the last to go yandere but goes yandere before Espresso and Butch. I mean how could anyone resist your charms forever? You never are rude or demeaning like the jealous fools in his graduate classes. You actually listen with wide eyed interest and treating him like a regular person instead of something to be revered or despised made him fall deeper into his obsession with you.
Croissant will find any way to spend more time with you. You trying to go to graduate school? He can help you study! Applying for a job? Why not work here? Other work environments won't value you the way "Lucky Kitty Cafe" would value you. So, what if you're human, Shopkeeper is human too (are they though?)! Don't even worry about filling out a resume a good word from Croissant and you'll have the job by tomorrow (even if you don't want to work there you will end up working there if Croissant has something to say about it).
Croissant never values anyone's opinion on him before, but he reveres your opinion above his own. Prefer red heads? Guess who's dying his hair? Hate his curled ears? He suddenly prefers wearing hats indoors. He can become very unstable fast so try to reassure him with love and affection. Or else no one will be able to stop the fall out. He's one hell of a stalker since he wants to know that you are okay, and no one is hurting you. Keeps extensive lists of things you like and plans for the future home the two of you will buy that is far away from this city and its impure influences.
"Ah Mx. (L/N) it's a pleasure to see you today. Care to pick up our conversation from where we left off yesterday?"
Cocoa:
Cocoa is a spunky freshly high school graduated college student who is working at the "Lucky Kitty Cafe" as a waitress for some extra money to pay for campus expenses. Cocoa is a Burmese with gigantic coke bottle glasses (she's extremely far sighted) and puffy space buns. She is popular with the teens and young adults who frequent the restaurant for her cute fashion sense and her sassy attitude.
She first met you when she spilled hot coffee all over you. The one day she forgets to wear her glasses! She immediately rushes you to the employee bathroom and apologizes profusely as she sprays cold water over the burn and begins to cry. She never meant to hurt anyone, and she may even get fired for injuring another customer (first time was no accident). You were fine thankfully but the guilt still ate away at Cocoa. She decided to spend time with you as payment and even pay for your meal. You laugh at Cocoa's guilt-ridden sad puppy eyes and compliment her nails. She immediately forgets her guilt and babbles about the cute new nail salon you should try. OMG you two should totally become BFFs!
Cocoa isn't immediately yandere and is like Sugar somewhere in the middle but further towards the immediate side. She's just hanging out with her new bestie! However, her tail bristles when she sees Macchi looping her arm around your waist, or the way that Donut coos at you while trying to feed you the cafe's newest dessert. Can't these two find their own BFFs, your hers. Great now Cappuccino is sleeping with their head in your lap! She snaps and screams at the other hybrid to leave you the hell alone, scaring many nearby cats. You tell Cocoa to calm down and that you're okay with Cappuccino doing this. What the fuck? How could you?!
After taking a second to calm down, Cocoa had to figure out why she was so worked up about you having other friends. It's good for you to have other friends...so why does it leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She doesn't hate the idea of you having friends, she just needs to be your BEST FRIEND!
Cocoa is one monopolizing and clingy girl. You have planned this weekend? Great now you can throw them out because Cocoa is taking you shopping to a cool new vintage store down the road, ooh and you can have boba tea afterwards! She bats away Macchi, Donut, and Cappuccino to have some time with her bestie, they aren't invited! She also believes as your best friend (she'll get rid of anyone who tries and replace her) she gets to pick who your future spouse is, and she is overly critical towards everyone in the cafe. No one is good enough for her bestie! She might put in a good word for the others... if they forfeit their time with you for the day (she's evil like that >:)).
Cocoa also is the type to try and hang out with you outside of the cafe by "coincidence". Oh, my what a coincidence that you both were at the supermarket at the same time looking for...mangos. Man, she loves mangos (she hates mangos)! Anyways, she found this really cute spa where they use sweet, scented bath bombs in the soak tub. Don't worry she'll pay! She also will totally snitch if she sees others trailing you (like she wasn't also stalking you) to make you like her more. Oh my god Croissant is totally following you, guess he isn't the gentleman he claims to be. What's she doing here? Don't worry about that, let's go rollar skating!
"(N/n) look there's 50% off matching sets of pajamas! Let's totally get some and have a sleep over together!"
Matcha:
You like em weird. Like really weird. Matcha is one strange hybrid. They are a Russian Blue with long bangs that cover their intense steel blue eyes. They have a couple streaks of light green in their gray blue hair. Their extremely pretty as they have a pale complexion and are lithe but when they open their mouth customers walk away in discomfort. As a result, Shopkeeper has them in the back most of the day and only really lets them come out before opening and after closing. They will be the one of the last yandere's you'll probably meet.
You were helping Shopkeeper with cleaning up after an intense day at the cafe, after all they let you stay in the comfiest table for hours after you purchased food. As well as staying after closing to feed the kitties. You also may or may not have been lured by Shopkeeper's promise of being able to take some of the leftover pastries home. Whatever your reason you were helping Shopkeeper, when Shopkeeper left to take a phone call outside. You smiled to yourself as you hummed a tune while cleaning up. You started actually singing when you heard a crash coming from the kitchen area. Strange you don't remember anyone being in the store besides you and Shopkeeper. Curiosity got the better of you and you decided to sneak a peek at whatever creature was in the kitchen.
You peer into the dark kitchen to find a skinny person holding a bent-up pan and an explosion of red all over the floor and all over the person.
"Oh, don't worry this isn't blood."
You proceeded to sock the stranger in the face and run to find Shopkeeper.
"There's a strange person with bluish hair covered in god knows what in your kitchen!"
"Oh that's Matcha."
"Who?!"
After an in-depth explanation of why this person you never saw before was standing in front of you covered in strawberry jam (they like to be one with the fruit) you were introduced to Matcha. A hybrid who smells like and probably eats dirt, an acquired taste for most (both dirt and Matcha). You apologized for punching them in the face to which they grinned and told you they like how your fist felt on their face. Okay a little strange but Shopkeeper wouldn't hire a literal serial killer, right?
You don't even know anymore
Obsessed from the minute your fist made contact with their face. Not quite yandere but interested in the reactions you make (and the pain you can give them). They actually gain romantic interest towards you slower than you think, give or take two days. You saw the large cut on their arm and helped them patch it up, it was from that moment that they planned your entire wedding in their head.
Is terrible at stalking but does it in hopes of being caught and you berating them for it (thinks it's sexy when you're mad). Fights Macchi for the things you leave behind and is found sniffing the seat where you were sitting. Is the definition of worshipper yandere as they truly believe you are a deity, and they are your acolyte. They don't care if you hate them or want them dead, as long as they can be by your side that's all that matters.
Being your acolyte also means they will do anything you ask with zeal. It doesn't matter if it's highly illegal as going to jail in your stead would be a blessing. They just love you so much that it consumes their very being. They're willing to share you with others (as long as they can watch) as long as you still let them stay by your side too.
"Hit me, stab me, choke me, leave me to die. Any act done by your hands is a blessing and a pleasure for me~"
Shopkeeper:
You got the big cheese's attention, the owner of the cafe, the mysterious Shopkeeper. Shopkeeper is alluring in an inhuman way with their sharp blue green eyes and charming androgynous voice. They loved the smile you gave them the first time you came in, what an adorable face. They also loved the face you made when you took a bite of the food you ordered, that blissed-out look is just too cute.
"Excuse me did you make this pastry?"
"Oh, why yes I did, it happens to be a family recipe."
"You're so talented, that was the best (pastry of choice) I every ate!"
Normally compliments don't faze Shopkeeper they'd reply with a nod and a polite thank you. However, you seemed so genuine and the way your eyes sparkled made something melt inside of Shopkeeper. You would surely become one of their favorite customers.
Shopkeeper is very hard to read so it can be difficult to tell when they go yandere for you. Their actions can be seen as purely platonic or as their attempt to flirt with you. They always make sure your favorite sweets are freshly made when you arrive to the cafe, they have the time you arrive memorized. If you don't like sweets, they always have something savory and tasty prepared to your liking. Keeps track of your food preferences and allergies when coming up with new items for the menu, so you can taste test them.
"I was thinking of adding this to the menu tell me how it tastes?"
"Is it necessary for you to feed me?"
"Absolutely."
One thing is for sure when they do fall for you, they begin to plan how to make you entirely theirs. Shopkeeper knows how their staff have taken a liking to you, and they don't feel like sharing (may have an easier time with the more submissive/guilt ridden ones like Matcha and Butch). They use their sweet words and actions to guide you in the right direction (right into their arms). They also aren't afraid to take care of rivals that come from outside of the cafe.
"Oh, why is there blood on my face? Just a little problem in the kitchen that's all."
Cappuccino:
Cappuccino is the Ragdoll of the group, a mellow, sleepy person. They are perfect cuddle shape with their chubby body and their big fluffy ears, hair, and tail. They are almost always asleep yet one of the most popular hybrids at the cafe for how cute and calm they are. They don't often choose who they fall asleep on, so they might have accidently fallen asleep on you.
"Oh, I fell asleep but not on a pillow."
"Hey, Cappuccino, right? I need to get to work so could you kindly..."
"Zzzzzz"
Cappuccino is pretty big both tall and chubby (because tall people can also be chubby/fat and beautiful) so it's hard to move them when they sleep, which is too bad for you since Cappuccino has decided you are their new favorite pillow. They always find you in what you're doing and force you to let them cuddle with you. After all, why cuddle with a cat now that you have Cappuccino?
"Cappuccino what are you doing in my house?"
"Ugh you're being to noisy be quiet, pillows don't talk."
"GET OUT!"
Cappuccino goes yandere for you pretty quick, but you wouldn't notice as Cappuccino is too lazy to do anything about these feelings beside scent you constantly when you cuddle. Cappuccino is clingy in the sense that they can't get good sleep unless they're clinging to you. You may have places to be, but Cappuccino is sleeping right now so you won't be going anywhere. They're adorable and they know it, so they use this to make you stay longer too. One sleepy look from those big droopy blue eyes and you are staying a lot longer than you intended. Isn't willing to pick fights with Donut, Macchi, or Cocoa, but is willing to make it out like they are bullying them.
"You shouldn't hang out with people who treat others bad (Y/N), you know I never would (they totally would)."
Their apathy is one of the scariest traits they have, they may be lazy, but they use their cuteness to get crazed fans to get rid of the competition. They are not above getting rid of others at the cafe because they don't care about the people around them. Cappuccino is also very strong as when they aren't sleeping, they are at the gym, so if they feel motivated enough, they can bash some heads in. Cappuccino only cares about you, so don't make them do anything that you may regret.
"Oh (Y/N) sorry for humping you, I was having a very...intense dream."
Butch:
Enter the devoted guard dog of the cafe Butch. The Pitbull hybrid is the tallest and strongest of the cafe and doesn't let anyone harass the Shopkeeper and staff. He sent you a threatening glare with his scared face when you arrived. He didn't know you and he hated humans for all the scars they gave him. You smiled at him and walked away. Tch, stupid human.
One by one all the hybrids fell for your charms (platonic ones are platonically in love with you) and it made Butch's blood boil. Why couldn't you be satisfied with just being a patron? Why did Shopkeeper look at you that way? Butch had a crush on Shopkeeper for saving him from his horrible life yet never had the courage to approach them. He saw the looks Shopkeeper gave you and it made him angry. He was going to confront you when he saw the scene with Donut occur. He saw the look of fear and worry on your face as you carried Donut gently to your apartment. He saw how you treated Cocoa and the twins as well as Matcha. You didn't have anything to get out of this so why do it?
His answer was given the night an old competitor from the fighting ring came at him with the intention to kill. He managed to kill the guy before he was killed but he was severely injured. He heard footsteps approach him head and he looked up to see you. You kept him awake long enough for the paramedics to arrive and take him to the hospital. The look of worry in your eyes is genuine and your smile of relief reminds him of the smile that Shopkeeper gave him that day they saved him (he's got a thing for nonbinary baddies). Your smile however was less calculated and more genuine.
Badump
Badump
Butch is the last to go yandere because Butch feels guilty. Guilty for hating you when you showed him nothing but kindness, guilty for betraying Shopkeeper like that and guilty for wanting to lock you away where no one but himself can see you. He is one overprotective and loyal pooch, who will protect you until his final breath. Good people don't deserve to face the cruelties a monster like him faced.
The most likely to be poly with you and Shopkeeper as he still holds feelings for Shopkeeper and they're both obsessed with you. You won't want for anything as he holds you in his muscular arms with his head buried in your neck to muffle the sobs.
"Please forgive me for being selfish, you're the only good thing I've got."
*Baba is the gender-neutral affectionate term for parent like mama and papa.
Sorry if it's bad towards the end, I rushed towards Cappuccino and Butch. Please feel free to request scenarios for the new ocs I dropped. ONLY PLATONIC FOR COCOA AND THE TWINS BUT EITHER ROMANTIC OR PLATONIC FOR EVERYONE ELSE.
310 notes · View notes
tinosawruswrites · 5 months
Text
A Punishment Fitting the Crime
Magistrate Astarion x Rogue Fem!Tav precanon One-Shot
Word count ~ 8600
Synopsis:
Tav is a petty criminal that got caught and is sentenced by magistrate Astarion Ancunín (prevampirism) in the privacy of his office.
TAGS/WARNINGS:
Rogue thief (Fem)Tav, Pre-vampirism Magistrate Astarion, DomAstarion, Sub(Fem)Tav, power play, minor dubcon, bdsm, sexgames with punishments, blowjob, hairpulling, spanking, edging, orgasm denial, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina sex, vaginal penetration, nippleplay
(If the tags are lacking, feel free to suggest any!)
Other notes:
Tav's looks are left ambiguous but her height is mentioned once as being a head shorter than Astarion.
Magistrate Ancunín’s office was located on the top floor of the court house building. Tav made her way up the numerous rows of polished marble stairs, almost compelled to count them from sheer boredom as she went.
The air was clean, almost sharp, with a lingering node of citrus to it, making it relatively easy to inhale while keeping up her steady pace.
Choosing to wear a light jacket, simple pants and shoes had been the right call after all, compromising style for comfort and ease of movement. If she got too hot after the climb, she could simply remove the jacket and still look presentable in her unassuming, common variety undershirt.
The high arched ceiling above her bent with the elevation like a strange, wide funnel, guiding her further along as water would through a pipe – except water would have refused to defy gravity and slid down the stairs.
Such was the life as a sentient, bipedal being. A continuous struggle against the laws of nature.
And regular law, Tav supposed.
Her case had been deemed too insignificant for a full trial. She was to receive a quick and efficient ruling by visiting the chosen magistrate’s office instead, and that happened to be this magistrate Astarion Ancunín.
Their immaculate signature decorated the bottom of the summons letter right next to the official stamp of the courts, both of them equally as artificial in both size and decorum. The way the A’s in magistrate Ancunín’s name had been written to dominate all the other smaller letters signaled Tav everything she ought to know about the man.
Another pompous, bigger than they actually were, holier-than-thou prick that loved to punish bad people and get paid to do so, maybe even keep a shifty side business giving out less harsh punishments and shorter sentences depending on how much gold his pockets got lined up with.
Then again, it was an open secret there were corrupt officials within the courts and that you either knew the right people or had to get really lucky to “do business” with them, as they said.
Nothing too unusual for Tav. Being a rogue sometimes happened to rope her in some less than legal gigs by working for shady people in need of light feet, nimble fingers and keen eyes for suspicious things.
She didn’t care where her skills were needed or who they were for, just that she got compensated for a job well done, like any good, hard working citizen – it wasn’t directly her fault if a customer had an enforced vault with mysterious origins that needed cracking open, or a particular door in the Upper City in need of unlocking without anyone finding out about it. At dead of night. When the owners were on holiday.
Those were all circumstantial details at best and did not in fact make her a criminal.
Tav’s inner justification to absolve herself of any guilt worked wonders for her confidence. Convincing the magistrate ordered to rule her legal punishment for allegedly: “Getting caught giving an aiding hand in breaking in to a high noble’s Summer palace and trespassing” did not.
It was a different thing entirely to lie to oneself and succeed, than to lie to an agent of law and walk away free of charges.
Tav finally reached the top of the stairs panting lightly and found herself standing inside another long, all too bright and polished hallway, almost an exact copy of the ones she passed below. All the whiteness was thankfully broken by the occasional dark paneled door and extravagant painting depicting some form of righteousness or an act of justice being given out.
She peered down at the letter and started systematically checking every door for the right name on a golden placate next to it. A large, vertically slim window opened a view into the dark city at the end of the corridor. Tav peered at the lit streetlamps glowing in the growing darkness leading away from the building she was in.
A road to freedom.
Alas, if she managed to wiggle herself off the hook and get away with a slap on the wrist, that was.
It was late in the standards of a regular day worker and Tav had to wonder if there had been an increase in petty crimes, or if it was an effect of some new government policy for a magistrate to be working this late into the evening. It was so late in fact, that there was barely anyone around, not even guards apparently, except for the random ones patrolling the hallways every now and then.
Must have been a real harsh pay cut to everyone.
Tav found the corresponding name and placate next to the door at the end of the hallway. She peered at the letter again and read the instructions stating her to arrive before the designated time, knock on the door and wait for it to be opened before entering. Otherwise, she was to sit aside and wait until she was let in.
Clenching her fists, Tav took a deep breath before tapping a couple stern knocks on the door and waited.
No response.
She looked around and found herself to be alone, then stepped closer and pressed her ear against the door to listen.
No sounds could be heard through the door. Either the room was empty, or the walls were magically enchanted to keep all sounds inside. Potentially to keep any incriminating statements out of curious outsider ears. She stepped back when a distant metal clinking echoed down the hallway. She took a quick seat at one of the small wooden stools lined next to the wall.
A lonesome guard wandered down the hallway, gloved hands balled to tight fists at their side, weapon ready at their hip, face like carved stone, stiff and unreadable. The guard marched before Tav, gave her a tired little smile, turned around and marched back the way they came from.
The metal clinking of the guard’s feet grew distant, finally disappearing into the distance. Tav was left alone once again.
Her gaze wandered around the space, the white walls, unassuming braziers and finally the sizable painting on the end wall of the corridor. It depicted a blindfolded maiden holding a golden scale – a common depiction of fair justice.
She peered at the woman’s covered eyes, wondering if justice was served blindly and without prejudice even by tired, overworked magistrates that were forced to work late into the evening.
She hoped the magistrate had at least been well fed, having heard terrible things about verdicts changing drastically depending whether a judge was hungry or not.
Time oozed by like thick oil and there was still no answer from the door beside her. Tav checked the letter in her hands for the time and date, comparing them to her pocket time-piece and the small calendar handily plastered above the magistrate’s name placate.
All was correct.
She had arrived on time, did as instructed and waited for an answer, and now it was way past her appointment and it wasn’t her fault that the proceedings would take longer. She seated herself once more and smirked smugly, pondering on using the magistrate’s potentially exhausted state to negotiate herself out out as quickly as possible.
Maybe, just maybe he would be so pent up from today’s proceedings he’d just dismiss her case altogether and they could both just go home.
The door clanked open and an older gnome exited. Tav made brief eye contact with him, recognizing them from another gig she partook in months ago.
This one was a peppy, we-can-do it kind of guy, but his current state reflected worn out desperation, like his spirits had been broken and what remained of them had been chewed out to the bones. He shut the door and turned away wordlessly, dragging his feet down the corridor, away from Tav and magistrate Ancunín’s office.
Tav swallowed nervously.
She recalled the gnome only had a small part in the gig, working as the handyman offering tools for the group. If the man responsible for tool handling looked like he had been sentenced for life, what would her door opening services get her?
The rope?
Tav felt a cold sweat rise to her neck and she gripped the edge of her stool until her knuckles turned white.
Perhaps she should have started being more honest with herself and admitted to having wandered to the wrong side of the law before someone else forced the truth upon her face like this.
The door cracked open again and Tav jumped to her feet, back stiff as a statue.
Magistrate Ancunín looked exactly what she had expected him to be and nothing like it at the same time.
Curly, silver locks swiped back from his face. One loose curl elegantly leaning over the right side of his forehead, as if by design, not accident. Pointy, pink tipped elf ears poking from under a tuft of more, unruly curls lining the side of his face. Two piercing gray eyes, glaring tiredly at her under stern eyebrows.
A handsome – No, beautiful – collection of features.
Tav felt a blush creep up her neck and cheeks, shocked at the surprisingly young looking magistrate’s beauty.
Magistrate Ancunín’s lips formed an unreadable, straight line, prominent laugh lines caging it on both sides of his face. He looked Tav up and down briefly. A wry, forced smile climbed upon his lips, bringing his laugh lines more into view.
“You’re late.” He stated coldly.
Tav’s eyes widened and whatever brief attraction she had for the man evaporated. She wanted to retort back and correct him, but bit her tongue instead.
“Inside.” The magistrate ordered and waved an uninterested hand at her before returning inside his office.
Tav forced a smile on her lips, determined not to show her displeasure and in turn prod the clearly very impatient magistrate further. She followed suit and shut the door as she went, quickly making her way deeper into the office.
The room was spacious and surrounded by heavy, tall bookshelves housing heavy, tall books of law. Miscellaneous scrolls poked out here and there in between them both, with an occasional paper and envelope to accompany them.
The middle of the office was left empty, decorated by an ornamental red carpet, handmade and expensive by the looks of it. At the end of the room sat a heavy mahogany desk littered with documents, letters, an inkwell, quills and a lone, uneaten red apple of all things.
An odd, magically infused crystal lamp provided dim light to the otherwise dark room from the side. Heavy purple curtains covered any leaking light from the streetlamps outside behind the magistrate’s desk, clouding most of the back room in darkness.
Magistrate Ancunín sat behind his desk on his immaculate, leather chair. Head leaned against his bowed elbows and crossed fingers, hiding his mouth from view, gray eyes inspecting Tav keenly.
Tav stood in the middle of the dim room, waiting for further orders.
“Sit.” Magistrate Ancunín commanded.
Tav grabbed the vacant chair in front of the desk and took a seat, polite smile still forced on her lips.
“Do you know why you are here?”
Tav felt like retorting and asking the man the same back, still miffed by the unjustified ruling over her punctuality. He could as well be leaning on her to recite her misdemeanors to him instead of having had prepared accordingly. That, or maybe he was testing her. Or worse, enjoyed verbally tormenting her before slamming a merciless guilty verdict on her.
She smiled and tilted her head, stealing a glance at the side.
“I believe the exact wording was: For aiding in breaking and entering. Oh, and trespassing.”
“Correct.” The magistrate said and picked up the document in front of him and looked it over.
He flapped the paper down and gave Tav a sly side smirk.
“...In addition to suspicions of aiding in other similar activities, not limited to: Breaking and entering. Robbery. Theft. Smuggling. Fencing stolen property and evading law enforcement. Oh. And trespassing.” He added and leaned back on his chair.
Tav’s smile broke a little and a scowl threatened to take over. She willed her face to stay neutral.
“Ah, but the key lies in the wording itself, your honor; suspicions, not proof.”
Magistrate Ancunín’s gaze sparked with interest and he leaned over the desk again.
“Observant one, aren’t you? It must have been bad luck on your end for getting caught that night. Otherwise, I have an inkling you wouldn’t be gracing me with your presence here. In this late hour. In my humble office.”
Tav smiled and read the tired frustration seeping between the magistrate’s words and demeanor.
“Bad luck indeed. Must have been equally bad luck on your part to be stuck in my presence. In this late hour.Iin your humble office.” She repeated and placed a hand on the table, leaning in.
“I believe it’s all just an inconvenient, circumstantial little mishap. Not worth a full trial, certainly not big enough to steal more of your precious time, your honor.” Tav pleaded confidently.
Magistrate Ancunín grinned.
“And what would you suggest we do about this, inconvenient, little mishap stealing my precious time?”
Tav leaned in further, meeting the magistrate’s gaze head on.
“A slap on the wrist, as they say, and I will disappear. We’ll both be free to go home for the night.”
He laughed.
“I’m afraid that’s not how this works.”
Tav leaned against the backrest, her smile now fully gone, replaced by a sullen frown.
“You see, while I appreciate your suggestion to save my time and yours, I however, cannot overlook the fact that this would benefit you more than me.” He mused and grabbed a pencil.
“It’s been a long, hard day and as much as I would love to let you go with a slap on the wrist and go home for the night, I believe there is a serious threat of you repeat offending and being sent back here to steal even more of my highly valuable, highly limited time again. A throughout punishment is in order, I’d say. To make sure you don’t forget why you don’t want to return to my office.” Magistrate Ancunín fixed Tav a sadistic gaze.
It was like he was playing with his food, uninterested in eating it before it jumped up and down, flipped around, pranced and finally begged and pleaded how he liked, before he would even allow it to see his tongue – or declared he wasn’t hungry in the first place and left it to rot on his plate.
“Well?”
“Yes, your honor?”
“You aren’t going to counter my accusations? Plea to soften my verdict?”
“I haven’t heard you come to a clear verdict yet, sir.”
“Guilty. Now, what do you suppose would be a fitting punishment for your misdemeanors?” He arched a brow, tilting the pencil to start writing onto the document in front of him.
“The punishment should fit the crime I would assume. You tell me, your honor.”
“As you wish. I’ll just add in ‘arriving late’ and ‘refusal to cooperate’ to the list first…” The magistrate grabbed the pencil properly and pulled the document closer to himself.
“I wasn’t late.”
“Pardon?” His gaze snapped back to Tav.
“I wasn’t late. I was here before you were finished with your latest customer. I knocked on the door, didn’t hear and answer and sat down to wait, as instructed on the letter.” She pulled out the summons letter and placed it on the desk.
Magistrate Ancunín didn’t even glance at the letter she offered.
“Are you implying I am a liar?”
“Not implying sir, accusing would be the correct term.”
The magistrate sat back on his chair, eyes wide and wild.
“You’re accusing me of being a liar?”
“Yes, your honor. I think we both know you are.”
“Interesting.” He tilted his head.
“… And what will you do with this bold accusation of yours? Convince someone of my wicked ways? Put me on trial?”
“Well I-”
Tav knew this wasn’t a good idea. Even if she knew the magistrate was full of lies, she didn’t have a proper leg to stand on against him. He would just push her down with his superior power and influence, as all great men tended to do to those they perceived to be standing beneath them.
“… Forgive me. I think I spoke out of line, sir.”
“That’s more like it. I’ll correct my notes to read ‘complicit and cooperative’ instead.”
Tav remained silent.
“Now. Back to your punishment. What do you think I should do with you?”
“I don’t suppose letting me just go is an option?”
The magistrate chuckled.
“Persistent, aren’t you?” He sounded almost amused.
“If it’s the verdict you come to, it would be the truth. After all, you aren’t a liar, sir.”
Magistrate Ancunín fixed Tav an intense kind of stare. She stared equally as intensively back. He resumed playing with his pencil before setting it neatly on his desk. He crossed his fingers and leaned comfortably over the desk.
“You would be absolutely correct about that. Alas, the problem lies not in what the truth will be, but what you have on offer for me to enforce said truth.”
Tav perked up slightly. She had gotten lucky after all. Magistrate Ancunín might have been an asshole and a liar, but one of these traits would benefit her if she just knew the right cards to play.
“You don’t suppose some good old gold would settle all this?” She offered.
“Mmh. I doubt whatever amount it is you’re thinking is enough to make up for this.”
“How about community service then?”
“What kind of community service?”
Tav shrugged and peeked around the office.
“You need something opened very late at night, perhaps something small delivered some place without detection…” Tav listed nonchalantly.
“Anything else?”
She returned her gaze to him. He looked slightly interested and more at ease, almost relaxed, if it wasn’t for the ever present frown on his brows. The man looked tired still, exhausted even. He was definitely overworked and hadn’t had a proper break in awhile. He was stressed, tense, like a piano string wrung up too tightly, ready to snap at any moment.
“A massage…?”
“A massage?” The magistrate repeated in surprise.
“Forgive me if I am mistaken, but you look rather... tense, sir.”
“You aren’t mistaken on that part.” He admitted with a raised brow.
“Would you allow me to relieve some of that tension, your honor?” Tav asked sweetly.
“Ever so polite, aren’t you, darling?” Magistrate Ancunín said with a smile.
The petname caught Tav by surprise and she felt a blush rush to her cheeks. She blinked and forced a smile.
“Always, sir.”
“Why not? I suppose it couldn’t do any harm.”
Magistrate Ancunín stood up from his chair and gestured for Tav to stand up with him. She did as commanded and circled the desk to where he was. The magistrate moved his chair to the side to give them free roam near his desk.
He was over a head taller than Tav. His body was slim and his shoulders looked much broader in contrast thanks to it. The air around him gave off an atmosphere of patient authority, something one would expect from a man working in such a high position.
He wore a frill collared jacket made of the finest light blue silks. Silver threaded peonies adorned the front of it. Trails of ornamental threads ran along the cuts of the fabric, every piece carefully tailored to fit his shape.
His legs were covered by similarly colored straight trousers. Plain and uninteresting compared to his jacket that screamed wealth and dignity. His shiny leather shoes provided a dark contrast to the rest of his outfit, having a grounding effect to his looks.
A striking difference to what Tav was wearing. What she had on currently, were some of her more nicer clothes. It was like setting a polished sapphire and a nice, water smoothed stone next to one another. It clearly paid well to be a professional liar in the right place.
Tav settled behind him and the magistrate watched her each move from the edge of his vision. She reached her hands and gripped over the magistrate’s shoulders, starting to rub the firm, tense muscles there in circles.
“Mmmh.” Magistrate Ancunín hummed in pleasure.
“Is that good sir?”
“Very good, darling.”
Tav smiled at the praise and kept going. She worked the top of his shoulders, sometimes dipping over towards his collarbones, to the sides of his biceps and down his back, closer to his shoulder blades.
Even through his fine layers of clothes it was evident to Tav that this man was in excellent shape despite his lanky proportions. He started to noticeably relax the more she massaged him.
“...What else did you have on offer?”
Tav thought through the question as she continued to work on the magistrate’s stiff shoulders. She let her hands wander down along his arms a little.
“Perhaps I could ease the tension on some other parts of your body?” She offered.
The magistrate peeked over his shoulder before fully turning towards her. Tav removed her hands. The magistrate had an inquisitive brow lifted.
“Such as…?”
Tav felt a nervous sting in her stomach. She realized the accidentally loaded implications of her words and let her gaze fall to the man’s chest.
“Your pecks- I mean back, sir.”
He chuckled.
“Aren’t you just adorable?”
Tav froze as a violent rush of heat flooded to her face. Magistrate Ancunín looked proud of himself and searched through her eyes, considering.
“It would be more efficient if I were to undress slightly, wouldn’t it?”
“Eh?”
Magistrate Ancunín smirked deviously and pulled his frilly collar loose and unbuttoned the top layer of his tailored coat. Tav followed his hands with her gaze and felt her heartbeat increase the more buttons popped open.
He pulled his coat off and settled it over the back of his chair, then started on his long sleeved undershirt.
Tav wanted to speak up and tell him it was enough, but she couldn’t. Something in her urged to remain silent and let the events unravel before her as they did. Soon, magistrate Ancunín stood before her shirtless, his well defined pecks and abdomen in full view.
Tav gawked at his perfect skin, her fingertips itching to reach and touch him. She looked him up and down, admiring his figure. The smile on magistrate Ancunín’s lips told her everything she had to know.
“Well, you aren’t just going to stand and gawk there?”
Tav blinked in an attempt to get her wits back, but the sight of magistrate Ancunín’s naked torso had chased most of them away, possibly permanently.
“Oh, of course sir.” Tav moved to stand behind him again.
The magistrate turned with her, staying face to face.
“Ah ah, not my back. You said pecks first, didn’t you?”
Tav froze and her eyes widened. Her gaze dropped at the half naked man’s muscular pecks and remained there.
“Yes. My mistake, sir.” She said half out of breath.
“You are absolved.”
Tav reached to touch magistrate Ancunín’s pecks and began massaging them in circular motions. She tried to keep her breathing calm despite her body’s increased need for more air. She faked appearing confident and stole glances up at the magistrate’s face every now and then, finding his eyes transfixed onto hers each time.
“You’re doing excellent, little pet.”
Tav couldn’t force down the smile and an accidental giggle escaped her. She tried to hide it with a loud clearing of her throat, but the magistrate had noticed it.
“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Ih… forgive me sir, I didn’t mean…”
He clicked his tongue and shook his head at her.
“We can’t have that, now can we? You are to be punished for your crimes, not rewarded for them. Although… if you behave, I suppose a little reward is in order…”
“A reward, sir?” Tav’s voice pitched from excitement.
“Punishment first, pet.” He nodded.
Tav locked eyes with him and nodded with him. He peeked down her body, then leaned close to her face.
“Strip.”
Tav’s eyes widened and she looked herself over. She studied the look on magistrate Ancunín’s eyes and determined he was serious.
“And… if I don’t?”
“Is this not what you want…?” He countered and lolled his head to the side curiously.
Tav felt heat surge to her loins. A pressure formed inside her lower abdomen and she was suddenly aware of the growing slickness between her legs. She sucked on her lips and nodded.
“Yes. Yes it is… your honor.”
“I thought so.” He smiled and snapped his fingers.
“Now, strip.”
Tav bit her lower lip and stepped back, removed her jacket and dropped it on the floor. She began to unbutton her undershirt while magistrate Ancunín watched her with a smirk.
She struggled to hop out of her shoes and trousers, somewhat clumsily ridding herself of her clothes all at once. Soon, she stood before magistrate Ancunín in her underwear.
He gave her a questioning look.
“Naked.” He said.
The breath in Tav’s lungs halted and she nodded, slid the straps of her bras off her shoulders and reached behind to unbuckle them without question, setting her breasts free. Her nipples hardened against the cool air of the office.
She discarded her bra on top of the pile of her other clothes and pulled down her panties, letting them drop down to her ankles. Panting, she stepped out of them, feeling hot slickness rub along her inner thighs.
Magistrate Ancunín grinned and stepped forth.
“Why are you here?” He asked, slowly circling around her.
The repeat question caught Tav off guard.
“Because of my crimes, sir?”
“Because you’re a bad girl, no?”
“I’m…”
The situation she was in started to catch up to her. Tav realized she was inside the top floor of the court house, alone with a shirtless magistrate, naked. Like a scene straight from some cheap smut chapbook circled around Amn. This wasn’t how she expected things to go or how she would negotiate herself off trouble, but didn’t really mind how things looked for her currently.
“B-because I’m a bad girl… magistrate sir.” She panted with a smile, playing along.
“Bad girls need to be punished accordingly before they can become good girls. You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
“Yes who?”
“Yes, magistrate Ancunín!”
“Good girl.”
Tav felt herself grow wetter over the praise and gnawed on her bottom lip harder. She watched as magistrate Ancunín stopped in front of her, his gray eyes dark. She focused on the way he slowly wet his lips before speaking up again.
“I couldn’t help but notice what a beautiful mouth you have, darling. Not only is your tongue clever with words, I’m sure you can put it to good use on other matters.” He alluded.
Tav nodded, stealing a glance down his front. He extended an arm and curled most of his fingers up into a fist, pointing down at the floor with his index finger.
“On your knees darling.”
Tav’s mouth gaped slightly and she obeyed wordlessly. She got on her knees and looked up at the magistrate as he approached. He unbuckled his belt. Tav ogled as he pulled the belt off and tossed it over the arm rest of his chair. Her eyes flickered down to the man’s crotch and the way his long, deft fingers unbuttoned his trousers.
Unsurprisingly, his underwear seemed to be as fine and expensive as the rest of his clothes, fitting the rest of his getup seamlessly. A man of style and principle. The blue and silver threads of his undergarments were stretched at the front, strained by the growing weight of his half erect cock underneath.
Tav let out a tiny whimper when magistrate Ancunín pulled out his heated flesh. The lean shaft of his cock was as pale as the rest of him and deliciously flushed closer to the tip. The word ‘elegant’ described it perfectly. His trousers folded below his ankles and he stepped out of them while adjusting his underwear lower.
“Lips apart, darling.”
Eyes adoringly fixated on the magistrate’s cock, Tav parted her lips as commanded.
“Lick.” Came the order.
Tav wiggled closer on her knees and leaned in, mouth open, tongue extended, hearing her pulse drum in her ears. She slithered the flat of her tongue from the underside of the magistrate’s engorged dick to its swollen tip with a sigh.
She repeated the action and peeked up momentarily to see the approving smirk on magistrate Ancunín’s face.
“That’s a good pet.” He praised and Tav felt something akin to butterflies flutter inside her chest.
Eager to hear more, she continued her ministrations and started to lap all over the magistrate’s cock. She began properly from the base, continued up the underside of his shaft, twirling around his cockhead and went back down to its base around the sides, then repeated the motions like a ritual.
Magistrate Ancunín’s breathing was starting to grow heftier, as was his hardened length. His erection reached it’s peak as Tav kept lavishing his member with the slick attention of her tongue, her own loins already soaking wet at this point.
A droplet of precum formed at the tip of magistrate Ancunín’s dick and Tav pulled back briefly to admire it.
“Suck.” Came the one word order from the slightly hoarse voice of the magistrate above.
Tav huffed hot air over the glistening wet tip and opened wide, let the cocktip slip between her lips and gave it a gentle suck.
Magistrate Ancunín tensed and let out a muffled growl. One of his hands found its way among Tav’s hair and grabbed a hold, before starting to pet through her soft locks gently, encouragingly.
Tav closed her eyes and swallowed more of the length in front of her, minding her teeth and carefully applying pressure with her lips and tongue. She began to bob her head back and forth slowly, listening to the tiny grunts of approval elicited by magistrate Ancunín above her.
She had experience sucking up to authority, but this was a new form of doing so entirely. Despite the clear, outrageous imbalance of power between them, she found herself feeling safe and pleased by the situation she was in – trouble like this was what she enjoyed finding herself in the most.
She felt oddly powerful down on her knees in front of him. The thought of being able to render a man of such high status as magistrate Ancunín into a whimpering mess just with her mouth excited her further.
The wet heat between her legs demanded attention and one of her hands slipped to soothe her aching clit. She got so lost among the pleasure of sucking the magistrate off while touching herself that she lost the rhythm of her mouth more than once.
A snap of fingers brought her out of her zone.
“What do you think you’re doing down there? Both hands where I can see them. Now.”
Tav furrowed her brows and huffed with her mouth stuffed with dick and removed the hand attending to her own growing need. She placed both of her hands up against the magistrate’s thighs and focused back on sucking him off.
“Eyes on me, darling.” Came the call from above.
Tav’s gaze snapped up and above, meeting magistrate Ancunín’s pleased gaze and self-satisfied grin. His gray eyes looked down upon her with a glint of sadistic joy, the thrill of having power over someone.
“You’re being such a good girl. Keep going.”
Tav couldn’t help the smile that wrung to the edges of her lips and blinked a couple times, slowly starting back up again. Her gaze ate in the way the magistrate above her shivered and twitched each time she pushed his length down as far as she could muster, feeling the hot flesh throb against her own.
Her fingers dug against the soft skin of magistrate Ancunín’s thighs, both in search of support and to heed the earlier command to keep her hands in his sight. The man above her shut his eyes, lost in his own pleasure, his surveillance of her growing lazy. She could easily slide one of her hands off his legs and he wouldn’t notice it returning between her legs.
Yet the new need to obey and be recognized as ‘a good girl’ somehow overpowered Tav’s natural urge to disobey – for now.
Magistrate Ancunín whimpered above Tav and held onto her head, gesturing for her to stop. She could tell he was close, having felt his flesh tremble and his balls constricting in anticipation of his release. He pulled back and shot Tav with a mirthful glance.
“On your feet.”
Tav swallowed the excess spit still in her mouth and licked her lips. She got up on her wobbly feet, knees feeling slightly achy from supporting her against the office’s hard plank flooring. A trail of hot wetness trickled down between her legs as she did.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” The magistrate raised a brow.
Tav met his strong gaze and nodded sheepishly, lips still wet and gleaming.
“Bad girl.”
He raised his hand once again and gestured for her to turn around. Tav spun on her heels and found herself facing the magistrate’s work desk. Magistrate Ancunín reached past her and swiped the documents and items crowding the center of the desk to the sides, clearing empty space in the middle.
Tav stared at the shiny dark surface of the mahogany desk and was sure if it was polished a hint further, she could see the wild arousal burning behind her eyes reflected from it.
“Bend over it.” Magistrate Ancunín ordered.
Tav closed the gap between her and the desk, then laid her hands over its gleaming smooth surface to test it. She bent her upper body over it until the base of her legs stopped her from going any further along it. She felt a firm grip take a hold of the back of her head and gently force her face down against the table. Her chest and perk nipples squashed against the table’s cool surface. She sighed from the contact.
She felt another hand trail up her spine sensually, the magistrate’s surprisingly calloused palm feeling up the arch of her back and the dip between her shoulder blades.
A cool, leather shoe tapped below on the insides of her bare ankles, ushering them apart. With the domineering hand laid over her neck keeping her head in place, Tav felt cornered enough for the will to disobey rise back up again. She kept her feet where they were.
“No?” Asked the magistrate curiously.
Tav breathed against the hard desk, glancing back at the magistrate standing at the edges of her vision. She heard the floor creak lightly as he stepped closer and felt the heat of his flushed skin hover near hers.
“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” The magistrate asked softly, petting her hair.
Tav shook her head as best as she could and smirked disobediently.
Magistrate Ancunín tutted at her and she could barely make out the way he shook his head in disapproval. The hand at the back of her neck tightened its grip and pressed her face harder against the desk.
She whimpered.
“Quiet.”
She stilled and listened.
“Maybe I need to remind you why you should behave?”
Tav swallowed heavily and waited. She felt deft fingers slide between her thighs and brush over her wet folds to her neglected clit. Her hips shivered at the contact and her lungs let out a gasp. The fingers kept rubbing at her ache and the heat at her center wound up tighter. She let out a pleased moan.
“You like that, don’t you?”
The magistrate’s clever fingers glided over her wet folds next, teasing around her hot entrance. Tav shivered at the growing feeling of emptiness around her yearning flesh. The fingers poked at the twitching entrance leading to her leaking canal, never breaching in deeper than that. Tav huffed out of frustration.
“Beg for it.”
Magistrate Ancunín’s touch froze near her entrance and Tav bit her lower lip in excited silence. She relaxed her lower back and parted her legs, sighing deeply before peeking back at the magistrate.
“Please, magistrate Ancunín?”
“Please what?”
“Please… feel up my cunt with your fingers, sir?”
“Hm. Better.”
Tav hummed as a warm digit slid up to the knuckle within her wetness and curled.
“A-ahh…!” She jerked at the sudden stimulus.
The magistrate kept rubbing at the roof of her depths, clearly aware of the sweetspot lingering around there. Tav’s legs shook with every jolt of pleasure, her hips starting to rock against the invading pressure.
“Hold still.”
Tav halted on her tracks, her breathing shallow and laboured. The finger inside of her pressed up against the ache and she struggled not to move.
“I’m certain you’re aware it could be something entirely different easing all this tension within you, yes?”
“Yes, magistrate Ancunín, I am aware.”
With a chuckle the magistrate rubbed his hard cock along her inner thigh and outer folds for emphasis. The finger inside of her curled again, applying more relieving pressure against her lustful ache. Tav sucked in her lips to keep her voice in.
“Ask for forgiveness and I might consider giving you more relief than just my finger.”
He rubbed his finger against her inner walls a couple more times before pulling out entirely. Tav whined as she felt the emptiness around her, the need throbbing inside of her, craving to be filled.
“Please forgive me, magistrate sir. I’ve… been such a bad girl and I must be punished.”
“As you wish, my sweet. Punished you shall be.”
Tav felt the comforting heat of magistrate Ancunín step away from her. He settled out of her view, but kept the hand over her neck firmly in place. Tav waited, listening to him rummage around his shelves.
Suddenly, an hourglass was placed in front of her face. The sand was all piled at the bottom and the magistrate’s fingers tilted it to show it off to her.
“This hourglass will be the length your punishment will last. You can endure until the last strand of sand has fallen, can’t you darling?”
The hourglass seemed relatively small and would last a minute, maximum of three, or more. Tav had no idea how long it would actually take, most definitely a calculated move on magistrate Ancunín’s part. Another devilish way to amp up her discomfort in addition to the sweet torture he was about to inflict upon her.
Tav bent the arm next to her face to see the item better and tried to look where magistrate Ancunín was.
“But you must not make a sound, otherwise I will tip the hourglass over again until you remain completely silent, understood? This is a punishment, after all. Knock on the desk once if you understand.”
Tav clenched her fingers into a fist and knocked on the desk once.
“Good. Now, as to not sully our fun little punishment game, knock repeatedly against the desk if it becomes too much to bear and I will stop. If you stop however, there will be no reward for you, unfortunately. Only good, obedient girls get rewarded. Knock once if you understand.”
Tave knocked once.
“Excellent. Now, lets play.” The magistrate said with a notable thrill in his voice.
Tav took a deep inhale and braced herself for what was to come. The hourglass in front of her was flipped and the sand began to drain.
A sharp smack hit her left buttock. She jolted from surprise. Another slap hit her right buttock and left it tingling the same way her left side did.
She knocked repeatedly against the desk before the third strike could land. The magistrate halted and leaned over her to peek at her face. Tav gave him a coy little smile.
“Sweetheart, are you testing me?” Magistrate Ancunín’s voice sounded playfully shocked.
Tav knocked once.
He chuckled delightfully.
“Do you want me to stop altogether or was this just a test? Knock once to stop, twice to continue.”
Tav watched as the sand in front of her in the hourglass kept draining. She knocked twice.
“Very well then, but ah, would you look at that. I left the hourglass running. Interrupting me like that will extend your punishment, I’m afraid.”
The magistrate resumed spanking Tav with his bare hand, lavishing both of her ass cheeks with plenty of attention. Tav managed to keep quiet through it all, feeling her ass start to tingle and warm up from the repeated strikes against it. The vibrations from each strike traveled to her folds and clit, granting her a teasingly small amount of stimulus that only served to increase the want in her.
The sand drained to the end and magistrate Ancunín paused to tip the hourglass over.
Each slap echoed inside the otherwise silent office of the magistrate as he continued on. He alternated between light and hard strikes, randomly switching between each ass cheek every now and then, pausing at times to create anticipation and hoping to catch Tav off guard.
The pain ebbing on Tav’s behind was starting to sting and she bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from whimpering. She panted hard against the wooden desk, her moist breath misting its gleaming surface. Eyes focused on the slowly draining hourglass in front of her, mustering herself to keep quiet.
Tav began to sweat from the heat of the situation, small droplets trickling down her back and sides in tandem to the heavy trickles of wetness seeping down between her thighs, smearing the hard wooden floor below.
She wanted to disobey so badly, but felt the pain on her backside starting to turn uncomfortably numb with each new spank. She licked her lips, glaring at the hourglass to drain faster, eager to taste the reward for enduring her punishment so well.
Then the final strand of sand fell and the spanking halted. She let out a loud hum of exhaustion, feeling her neglected cunt throb in need.
The hand over her neck was removed and she raised her head to peek over her shoulder.
“That’s a good girl. You endured so well despite the interruption at the start.”
Tav flashed a brief smile.
“Now then, as promised. Good girl’s get rewarded for their efforts.” Magistrate Ancunín said and moved to stand behind Tav.
His still erect cock slid under Tav’s swollen cunt and his hips pressed flush against her aching behind. She hissed at the contact.
“Shhhh… I’ll make it better soon. Now, what do we say when we want something?”
Magistrate Ancunín began to rub her aching ass cheeks with both hands while waiting for her reply.
“Please, sir?”
“Please what, my dear?”
“Your cock, sir. I need your cock inside of me, please?”
“Good girl.”
He pulled away and nudged the head of his cock at Tav’s leaking entrance. He grabbed her hips and pushed in with little effort. Tav moaned wantonly and moved to accommodate him further. The magistrate sighed with pleasure and his grip on her hips tightened as he bottomed out. Tav felt his hot breath against her neck as he bent over her back.
“Oh, you sweet thing. So wet for me.” He panted and began to rock against her softly.
Tav gasped and wiggled under him, her knees shaking from their continuous efforts to stay afoot, backside still tender from the punishment.
“Mmhh… Hold still.” His hand snuck into Tav’s hair and yanked her head back.
Tav whimpered and stilled as best as she could. The magistrate continued to pound into her in languid motions, slow and relaxed, his cock hot and rigid inside Tav’s needy cunt. His grip on her hair kept her head bent back.
She bit her lower lip and enjoyed the way the magistrate’s cock filled her, relieving the heated tension building inside of her. Her wet folds wrapped around him, tightening whenever he pulled out, relaxing as he pushed in, welcoming him back into her depths, begging him not to leave.
She felt the coil in her lower abdomen tighten and felt her release getting closer. Her breathing grew heavy and erratic. Her sweaty fingers grasped at the desk underneath it desperately, her head bent back by magistrate Ancunín’s hand pulling on her hair.
“M-magistrate… Ancunín…!” She whimpered breathlessly.
A broken yelp left her when the magistrate pulled out of her unprompted. His hand released her hair. She shivered and turned to look behind her.
“Turn over.” The magistrate panted.
Tav blinked and pushed herself up from the desk with some effort. She flipped over and magistrate Ancunín helped her lay down on her back on top of the desk. He grabbed her knees and spread her legs, aligning himself between them and pushed back inside her with a loud groan before crashing their lips together.
He licked at her upper lip and wasted no time pushing his tongue between her teeth and intertwined it with hers. She kissed him back with the same fervor, both of their moans muffled by each other’s hungry mouths.
Tav blinked at him through the kiss and watched as his face softened with pleasure. The tense frown was gone, replaced by a pleased furrow instead. He broke off and a broken string of spit fell onto Tav’s breasts. Magistrate Ancunín grinned as he gripped Tav’s sides and fucked into her harder.
“You were so obediently quiet before. I want to hear you scream in turn.” He panted and smirked wickedly.
He slammed his hips into Tav and her eyes rolled back in reaction to the mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Ahhh!” She moaned.
“Louder, darling. Nobody except me can hear you inside these walls.”
He slammed into her again.
“AhhHHHnh!”
“Louder.”
“AHHHHH MAGISTRATE ANCUNÍN!!!” Tav shouted blissfully.
“You’re so pretty when you say my name…”
Tav’s face contorted and her whole body shivered.
“M-magistrate… Ancun… ín… I’m going to… going to…!”
“You’ll cum when I say you can, darling.”
Tav heaved in blissful frustration, her back arching off the desk, ass tender, legs shaking against the magistrate’s sides as she fought against her approaching orgasm. The magistrate slowed down to help her come down, his own body jerking every now and then to chase his own building release.
He stopped still and lifted his hands to play with Tav’s chest. He cupped both of her tits and massaged them, rubbing her perk nipples with his thumbs. She moaned and clawed around his desk for something to grab hold of. The magistrate chuckled.
“Why are you here?”
Tav whined and struggled for words.
“B-because I’m a… a bad girl, your honor…!”
The magistrate pinched her nipples and pulled on them while sliding out of her painfully slow.
“Do you want to be a bad girl?” He questioned and rubbed Tav’s nipples sensually.
Her head thrashed from one side to the other.
“N-no… sir!” She whined, her legs trying to wrap around his waist and pull him back inside of her.
“I-I… I want to be a good girl!” Tav added and pleaded at the magistrate with her eyes, nodding frantically.
She was so agonizingly close. Her abdomen was beginning to hurt from the unfulfilled need. She felt her eyes grow moist from the tears that welled in them.
Magistrate Ancunín gave her a warm smile and gave her nipples one final pinch before releasing them. Tav sighed from the loss of contact, her chest now tingling the same way her ass was.
“You promise to remain a good girl after you leave my office?”
Tav nodded.
“Yes! Yes, I promise magistrate Ancunín sir!” She panted enthusiastically.
“Good girl.” He grinned and slammed back into her.
Tav screamed and threw her head back, letting her voice out in long, broken moans and whimpers as the magistrate began to fuck her in earnest. Her wet walls relaxed to let him in, allowing his length deeper inside.
“P-please… Magistrate Ancunín! Please let me cum!!” She pleaded weakly.
“Not yet, darling. You can hold off a little longer.”
Tav whined and nodded.
Magistrate Ancunín’s own voice broke out and he whined in rhythm to his hips. He hissed and bit his lip, his punishing pace losing focus.
Tav writhed under him, her wet folds pulsing from her barely held back release. She groaned almost painfully, tears breaking free from the corners of her eyes.
“Now darling, cum for me!” He commanded and Tav’s pleasure exploded beneath him.
She screamed his name from the bottom of her lungs and arched her back, her needy cunt milking his throbbing length. Magistrate Ancunín followed soon after, losing himself in her and let go with a husky little whimper. His whole body shook against Tav as his hips rocked into her, jerking the last of his pent up need into her.
He stilled and gasped for air, trickles of sweat now streaming down his face and chest. Tav panted under him, her eyes shut tight as the aftershocks of her orgasm still shook through her nerves. The magistrate pushed himself up, pulled away and stepped back shakily before slumping onto his leather chair.
Tav’s legs felt like uncontained liquid and as soon as they had nothing to support them, fell open and dangled over the firm mahogany desk she was laid on top of.
The office was filled with nothing but their heavy breathing for a good while before an oddly comforting silence took its place. Tav blinked up at the ceiling above, her heartbeat and breathing now calm and steady.
She finally came to enough to push herself up to sit on her still aching ass. She found magistrate Ancunín leaning on an elbow, seated comfortably on his leather chair, legs crossed, his underwear pulled back up and trousers firmly buttoned up again.
His chest was still rising and lowering noticeably heavy, his brows gleaming with sweat.
“I think this concludes your trial. I deem you free to go with a warning. This time.”
Tav managed a weak smile and inched herself off the desk. Her knees felt wobbly, her buttocks ached, and her nipples were swollen, but the pleasant heat now thrumming at her core made everything feel better. She was free to go and more than that, exhilarated by the success of their negotiations.
The magistrate allowed her a moment more of his time to clean up before exiting his office for the night.
On her way down the hall and the near infinite amount of stairs, Tav thought back on her little gigs at the edges of law and was glad to have trailed off to the wrong side of the law for once.
Feeling the combined fluids of their heated negotiations slick the insides of her underwear, she itched to be bad again, in hopes of finding herself back within magistrate Ancunín’s office to be reminded how to be a good girl once more.
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darielivalyen · 4 months
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Eldritch Tales: Inheritance [WIP]
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Eldritch Tales: Inheritance is a cosmic horror game with elements of romance, set in a Gothic manor. You and your high school friends are reunited after five years by a mysterious letter, and through this letter, you inherit an old Gothic manor and a substantial fortune.
There is only one condition: you must live in the manor together.
As you arrive at Blackthorn Manor, strange, unsettling events begin to unfold. Shadows move on their own, nights are unnaturally dark, and the atmosphere grows increasingly tense. The manor is full of secrets, and the more you learn, the less you seem to understand.
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Play as male, female, or nonbinary.
Customize your appearance, personality, and sexuality.
Romance or befriend a wealthy and carefree playboy, a no-nonsense scientist, a disciplined and protective ex-soldier, or a sweet and free-spirited artist.
Manage your relationships, or face unforeseen consequences.
Pay attention to your sanity and health, or…don’t.
Search for clues, solve puzzles, and learn the truth behind your inheritance.
Discover hidden rooms, secret passages, and eldritch artifacts.
Confront moral dilemmas, and be careful as they may have far-reaching consequences.
Face randomized events that will keep each playthrough unique.
Experience multiple endings based on your choices and actions.
What darkness does Blackthorn Manor conceal, and how will it affect your fate? Can you uncover the truth and survive, or will the manor’s sinister influence consume you all?
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TYLER REYNOLDS
Personality: Tyler exudes a confident, carefree spirit that's both alluring and slightly unnerving. He enjoys the present and isn't too concerned with the future.
Background: Born into wealth, Tyler has always enjoyed privilege and opulence. While his party-going ways have quieted recently, he still often boasts about his family's status.
Physical description: Tyler is tall and lean with an athletic build. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a preppy yet sophisticated style. He is fond of loafers and owns over two hundred pairs.
Smell: Tyler's scent is a blend of citrus and musk.
CALEB MITCHELL
Personality: Caleb is disciplined and protective, with a dry sense of humor shaped by his military background. Despite his rugged exterior, he dreams of a peaceful life.
Background: A former soldier, Caleb has spent the last couple of years doing different security jobs. His protective nature extends to his younger sister Julia, with whom he shares a close bond.
Physical description: Caleb is tall and muscular with a rugged appearance. He has a dark brown undercut, deep brown eyes, and perpetual stubble. His style is casual and rugged.
Smell: Caleb smells of cedarwood, with hints of amber.
JULIA MITCHELL
Personality: Julia is a no-nonsense individual who values efficiency and clarity. Her methodical approach to problems contrasts with her puzzlement at overly emotional responses.
Background: Julia has a deep passion for science, excelling in engineering and physics. Her cross-disciplinary focus defines her academic and professional journey.
Physical description: Julia is of medium height with a lean physique. She has neck-long black hair, deep brown eyes, and wears stylish glasses. Her style is Parisian chic.
Smell: Julia smells of lavender, with hints of paper and ink.
LUNA HARPER
Personality: Luna is a free spirit, and her vibrant personality is reflected in her artwork. Her infectious optimism and innocent humor reveal a soul untouched by cynicism.
Background: An eclectic artist, Luna finds solace in her paintbrush and palette. She embraces all sorts of spirituality and has a deep love for crystals.
Physical description: Luna is petite and has an ethereal presence. She has long platinum-blonde hair with pink highlights, and green eyes, and loves the bohemian style.
Smell: Luna smells of patchouli and sandalwood, with floral notes reminiscent of wildflowers.
DEMO | FORUM | PINTEREST | TUMBLR | KO-FI
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ashwhowrites · 10 months
Note
Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, what if Eddie starts receiving some secret admirer letters that don't have any signature on them, only some red lipstick kiss on it and he's curious about who can that be, only when he's on a deal with Cheerleader! Reader, that she's starts to apply some red lipstick on that he connects the dots and he just jumps in excitement saying IT'S YOU! and reader is like Idk what are you talking about (just pretending not to know) but then when Eddie sits again she just starts to talk again and she gest closer to him and then kisses him?
-🩷
Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3
Red lipstick
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Eddie Munson wasn't a guy that girls fawned over. He wasn't a guy girls chase around and try to win over. More like, they ran from him. If he ever had a crush, it was nearly impossible it would be responded to nicely.
He also wasn't friends with girls. He barely talked to any, unless it was on a deal. So imagine the confusion he had when he randomly started to receive little notes. Almost like a secret admirer note. The notes didn't say much, a few words that complimented him in some way. Some talked about his clothes, hair, rings, smile, or his laugh. Which meant this person constantly saw him and was close enough to notice small details.
He had a good feeling it was his friends playing a joke, but he wasn't sure if they'd be that mean. He had a feeling it was a girl based on the neat handwriting, oh! And the fact that every note had a lipstick kiss on it. A deep red, a red that would stain lips. He had to admit, he weirdly stared at his friend's lips lately, trying to see if any smudge of red was still there.
He always received them at the end of each day, in his locker. Well, he assumed, when the notes first started he never went to his locker. One day he needed a random book and tons of notes scattered on the floor by his boots. The excitement of reading the notes brought him back to check his locker every single day. And whenever he checked, there it was. Folded neatly, his name was written on the top with the red kiss mark.
He had no idea who it could be. He didn't talk to any girl one on one unless it was during a deal. And the girls he met with were cheerleaders....no way in hell would a cheerleader be into him.
~~~
Eddie kept the collection of notes in his backpack, not like anything else was in there.
His friends teased him about it all the time. To a point, he believes they aren't part of it.
"Miss lover girl write another one? "
"I bet you kiss the notes at night."
"does it smell like perfume?"
"Are we sure it's not Jason in drag?"
But right now he had to put the mystery aside and work on a deal.
He hummed a song as he sat on the bench, waiting patiently for his next customer. With the extra time, he dug into a few of the notes, his head pounding as he tried to figure out who the hell it was. It's been weeks and weeks. And he still came up with nothing.
"Whatcha got there?" A voice came from behind him. He jumped and quickly hid the notes. He zipped up his backpack as Y/N walked around the table and sat down.
"Nothing!" He squeaked out. She eyed him carefully but moved on. Her movements seemed a little nervous.
He did the deal as usual, but with Y/N they tend to talk about random shit to pass the time. The weed was placed in her backpack, but yet they talked for over an hour.
Her lips were over her water bottle as she sipped the rest of it. She groaned as she noticed there wasn't a lipstick mark, knowing her lips must have been uncoated for a while.
She dug into her backpack, scratching for the small black tube. She smiled once she grabbed it. She grabbed her small compact mirror and opened it.
Eddie watched mindlessly, letting her do her thing as he took in her features. He knew she was beautiful and he knew that she knew it too. The way her lips puckered out as she applied the red stick to her lips. WAIT! RED!
Eddie snatched the lipstick from her hand.
"Eddie what the fuck!"
He ignored her, he smeared the stick against his wrist, the red soaking his skin. The color was familiar and the texture of it was the same.
He smiled excitedly, he figured it out.
He couldn't handle his outburst. He jumped from his seat, disbelief on his face.
"ITS YOU!" He couldn't believe it. A cheerleader, no! Y/N! was writing him love notes.
"Huh?"
"THE NOTES!"
Y/N felt her face heat up, but denied.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She snatched back her lipstick. She quickly threw it in her backpack but Eddie already had the stain on his skin.
He dug out the notes, flipping one over. The blank side faced him as he slid it over to her.
"Kiss it." He said he didn't care how crazy he sounded. This has been driving him crazy for weeks.
"I'm not kissing a piece of paper." She argued
"Just DO IT!"
She slouched and grabbed the paper. Embarrassed she pressed her lips against the paper. Something she's done countless times, but now in front of him feels so stupid. Why did she think this was a good idea?
Eddie sat down, more calm as he grabbed the paper and matched it with the others.
"It's you."
"Yeah! You've said that!" Y/N snapped. She was panicking. He hasn't said anything but "it's you!" Over and over. Was he happy it was her? Mad? Disappointed? She couldn't tell and it was making her nervous.
"But why?" He asked. The confusion was clear on his face.
"What do you mean why? Why do people send love notes, Munson." She said in a duh tone. She didn't like being played with.
"Well if you like someone! But that's not the case here, so why?" Now that he knew who it was, he couldn't help but feel stung. It was a cheerleader, and he stands by no cheerleader liking him. It must have been a joke with the team or a joke with Jason.
He was hurt by it. He thought they had a small friendship. He liked talking to her and it seemed like she enjoyed being around him too. She didn't run away after the deal, she didn't look over her shoulder in a panic if anyone saw.
Y/N sighed and decided to make another move. She got up and moved to sit next to him. She was nervous, but he probably was even worse.
"I do like you." She admitted quietly, she wasn't sure if he heard it. She barely heard it herself.
"We talk every week...why did you never say anything?" He asked
"I was scared!" She laughed, "I didn't want you to laugh in my face. I know you hate the popular kids and you hate my friends. I was scared you hated me too."
He moved his hand down to his lap, her hand inches away on the bench. He took a deep breath and slowly slid his hand over. His pinky hits hers.
"I like you too. I mean it's hard for me to believe you do like me and this isn't a prank. But I also feel like that's not something you'd do." He explained. "I'm really happy it was you."
He could feel her body perch up, a big smile on her face as she turned her head to look at him.
"Really? Happy?" She asked, he turned his head to match her.
"Mhhm! I always thought you were beautiful. But I don't recall you ever wearing red lipstick on our deals so I didn't exactly expect it to be you."
"I didn't. I barely wear it, only when I usually do the notes. But I guess I was hoping if I slipped up, you'd notice." She admitted
They sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. That's when she noticed how close they were. His pinky was still against hers, their shoulders practically touching.
"Can I kiss you, Eddie Munson?" She asked, her heart pounding.
Eddie has never heard those words in his life. He had a first kiss, but it was on a dare and the girl ran away after. He still remembers how sad he was. But now he had a gorgeous girl wanting to kiss him.
"Yes" he breathed, his heart raced as she leaned in. His cheek burned as her hand held it softly. He's never had someone touch him so delicately. Like he was something special you'd be careful with.
Time froze when her lips touched his. He wasn't sure what to do at first, his hand slowly moved to her thigh, resting his palm against her bare skin as he tried to kiss back. He's seen it in movies, and he's heard his friends talk about it. But he's never heard anyone talk about how amazing he felt. He'd never heard anyone talk about the way his body tingled, the way he felt like he wanted to giggle and scream. He's never heard anyone talk about the pure feeling of happiness and desire running through their body.
But maybe that's because no one kissed her
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
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The Empress is dead. The Throne is free for the taking.
Demo: Prologue 2 Part 1 (08/17/24)
EDIT: IF YOU PLAYED THE GAME BEFORE AUGUST 17 2024 YOU WILL NEED TO START A NEW SAVE.
The Sovereign's Ring is an 18+ dark fantasy game filled with drama and romance.
When the Empress dies without issue, you play as the youngest out of four possible successors to the throne.
Civil war is on the horizon. The other successors will stake their claim- but you’re the one who’s in possession of the Imperial Signet Ring, the sole symbol of the Sovereign’s authority and a relic of great mystery.
Choose your loyalties. Build relationships- or don’t. Tear them apart. Sabotage your rivals and pave the path to the throne for yourself. The choice is yours to make.
There are no right or wrong choices- only consequences.
CONTENT WARNING: The Sovereign's Ring is intended for an 18+ audience. The Sovereign’s Ring contains disturbing/dark subject matter that is not for everyone, such as graphic depictions of violence, gore, death, trauma, sexism, racism, poverty, misogyny, sexual assault/violence, child abuse/grooming, suicide, depression, alcohol more.
LINKS:
✦ Itch
✦ Ko-fi
✦ Patreon
✦Pintrest
Features:
✦ Choose the heir you wish to be, customize your name, gender, sex, sexual orientation and appearance. ✦ Choose between one of three backgrounds: Warfare (Soldier), Academic (Scholar) or Politics (Diplomat) ✦ An alignment system: Follow the code of law or follow your own. Decide the future- the Empire you wish to see and the ruler that sits at the top. ✦ Build or break your relationship with your older brothers. Help them realize their goals- or don’t. There is no way to make everyone happy ✦ Romance one of four love interests(and maybe a few secret controversial one(s))…or pine for unrequited love.
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(Ages as of Chapter 1)
Duke Alberich Nibel Vagnyr | He/him | 26 | Male
Alberich is your eldest brother, who raised you after the death of your parents. He's an astute and charming politician. You love each other dearly. Despite knowing him all your life, you can never tell where his true ambitions and intentions lie.
Sir Sieghardt Nibel Vagnyr | He/him | 25 | Male
Sieghardt is your second brother and Captain of the Nibelhiem Heath Knights. Unlike Alberich, Sieghardt is a like ghost, often occupying the shadows in your memory. He’s a quiet and stoic person, but is loyal to your brother Alberich above all else. There is a weight he carries with him that no one knows. 
Eirik Nibel Neaera | He/Him | 23 | Male
Eirik is your only cousin, the son of your Father's twin brother. He still holds your family responsible for the death of his father and will do anything to avenge him. He's arrogant and hot-headed, but he's also resourceful. Despite being a jerk, he inspires great loyalty in the people who follow him.
Sir Griffin (Finn) Brynhildr | He/him | 19 | Male
A young boy from your childhood. He was a good friend- maybe even your first love, but you two have drifted apart over the years. Now he's a Nibelhiem Heath Knight and heir to a Great House. His passion is second to none and charges into every situation with enthusiastic sincerity- sometimes to his own disadvantage.  He hates Sieghardt with every fibre of his being.
Lady Linnet Brynhildr | She/Her | 24 | Female
Linnet is Finn's older sister and childhood friend of your older brothers. She's a part of the renowned Shield Maidens and harbors a flame for Sieghardt, but due to her family's ambitions, nothing becomes of it. Above all else, she wishes to serve her country and fulfill her duties- but must it come at the cost of her own happiness?
Prince Thea ana' Isadora Brigid | She/her | 18 | Female
A young Prince from the neighboring country of Brigid. Thea is one of seven children in line for the throne. She was a good friend and pen pal- maybe even your first love, but she stopped answering your letters one day. Her short stature and demure demeanor causes most people to underestimate her crafty nature.
Medea | She/Her | ??? | Female
The Wizard Rothbart's assistant. She's a woman of many questions and little answers. A flirtatious and beautiful woman, who is easy to like, but hard to trust. There’s something about her sincerity that makes you uneasy. Her smiles never truly meet her eyes.
Helios | He/They | ??? | ???
Helios is a great sorcerer of unknown origins with great knowledge of the occult and the Wastes. Aside from that, no one knows who the fuck this person is.
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jeonginslefthand · 1 month
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Morning Flowers 💐
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Pairing: FlowerShopOwner!ChoiSan x Reader  Genre: Little shop of horrors AU/Fluff Word Count: 2.2k+ Plot Summary: You’ve recently heard rumors about a mysterious flower shop that just opened up. You decide to go check out the shop wanting to get some new plants for your home. Little do you know the owner catches your attention more than the store (and possibly your heart) Warnings: Depictions of self-harm towards the end (reader discretion is advised!!), slight mentions of murder A/N: Part one of my first series is here! I was thinking about the time San said that if he wasn’t an idol he would be a flower shop owner. Not only is that very fitting, it also makes a great fic idea. Also spicing up the idea making it Little Shop of Horrors related cause I love the musical a lot. I’m not sure how many parts I plan to make with this but enjoy the first chapter!  Little Shop on 8th Street Masterlist Ateez Masterlist
~~~
“This looks like the place…” you softly say to yourself as you drive past a flower shop. You find a parking spot near the shop and prepare to go inside. 
You didn’t even know there was a flower shop this way until your friend brought it up on last night’s FaceTime conversation. She told you about the rumors coming from the shop. Certain customers would disappear after a few visits with the shop being the last place they were seen at. In the moment you laughed and brushed it off as a silly conspiracy theory, but you got a little curious after the call. You looked into the shop further and found no actual evidence. There was only word of mouth and conspiracy Reddit threads on the topic. Still, you needed some new plants for your apartment so you decided to check out the shop the next day. 
And here you were now. Standing in front of the flower shop with a sign in bright red letters “Little Shop on 8th Street.” An interesting name for a flower shop. You walk inside the flower shop taking in the scenery inside. It looks like a typical flower shop with different types of flowers in glass displays, other plants scattered around the shop as decoration, and flower food and tools neatly lined up on the shelf displays. It does live up to its name not being a big shop, but the setup makes the inside feel like a plant nursery. You also noticed that not all the products were flowers looking at the green plant displays. You look around some more, feeling overwhelmed by the options around you. 
You find yourself drawn to a bouquet of yellow flowers. The flowers look like they had just bloomed and have a faint smell of apricot. 
“Beautiful aren’t they?” You hear a voice behind you say. You jump at the sound of his voice and turn to face the man as your eyes meet
You start to examine the man that came up behind you. He’s tall and muscular with his hair colored black. The hair is slicked back with some strands sticking out framing his face, which you move to next. His face has many sharp features but his smile softens those features. He has a warm gentle smile, a smile that comforts you, makes you feel secure. You move down to notice his nametag that says “San” decorated with flowers and Sanrio stickers. 
“Sorry to startle you,” San says breaking you from your trance. “I noticed you were staring at these flowers for a while.” 
“Yeah, they’re beautiful. Can you tell me more about them?” you say, stumbling on your words a little in the process. 
“Of course! These lovely flowers are begonias. They make great houseplants and are great to put by windows. They love the sun and tropical climates the most. You may have noticed they smell a little like apricot. They tend to emit that scent during the summer season. If you’re wondering how long they last, typically 2-3 years. It all depends on where you grow them and how you care for them!” 
You notice how San’s face lights up as he explains the simple flowers in front of you. You can tell he’s passionate about his work and knows a lot about the subject. 
You walk over to another batch of flowers that caught your eye. “What about these?” you ask pointing to the purple flowers. 
“Those are African Violets! They are one of my favorites here. They also make great houseplants and respond well to room-temperature environments. If you are considering getting these, just keep in mind the soil must be evenly moist. And avoid getting water on these cute fuzzy leaves. They won’t be fuzzy anymore and will turn an ugly brown color. I also have some in a ruffled pattern and a white color pattern. Highly recommend these especially if you’re looking for an easy plant to grow.” 
“Oh, nice!!” You take note of those flowers for later and move on to the plant next to them. “These also look interesting.” 
“That is a pothos plant! I love the multi-colored leaves on this plant. It can help add some variety if you have a lot of solid green plants. These are also low maintenance. They only need to be watered once or twice a week. They also grow great in low-light environments. If you’re looking to use them as a house decoration, I would recommend hanging them up for the best results!” 
You continue talking with San about the different plants in the shop and he eagerly explains every plant you ask about. You aren’t completely clueless about plants, but you love hearing him explain each type of plant and how to take care of them. The way he explains everything with passionate energy makes you smile and intrigues you enough that you want to hear more. Eventually, the conversation moves away from plants and you begin to learn about San. 
He tells you that he’s moved around for years now. He owns the shop (no wonder he knows so much) and has mainly lived in big cities.
“I don’t like the cities that much. I get a lot of customers, but it’s overwhelming living in large cities. That’s why I wanted to move to a smaller town. It’s so peaceful and I have more time to care for my plants properly,” San explains. 
“I understand. It’s the only reason I haven’t moved out of here yet. This town is a bit boring at times, but the peacefulness makes up for it,” you respond. 
San starts to ask about you as well. You tell him about how you’ve lived in this town your whole life and are jealous that he got to explore many different places. You start talking about your job a little and about your hobbies. The conversation flows so naturally you forget what you came in for in the first place. You find out you and San have very similar interests, especially when it comes to Sanrio products. 
“Between us, I have a huge collection of Sanrio plushies. They are nice to sleep with and I love the cute character designs.” San tells you.
“Oh same with me! I collect a whole lot of plushies and fuzzy toys. Don’t tell anyone this, but I used to be a big Furby collector back in the day.” 
“No way! Seriously? You used to collect those creepy little birds?”
“They aren’t creepy, they were adorable to me at least! And I sold most of the ones I owned a long time ago. I still have a few left I keep for sentimental reasons.” 
“Never knew why people liked those things so much. Isn’t it weird that they stare right into your soul? Who knows what evil things they could be plotting behind those eyes.” 
You laugh hearing San’s response. “Well, it’s not like they were going to take over the world or overthrow the government. Although, it would be funny wouldn’t you think? A Furby revolution?” 
“Alright, no more Furby talk. Have you decided which plants you want for your house?” 
Right, you came in here to buy plants, not to chat it up with the store owner. Although, you weren’t sure if you wanted to buy anything anymore. You wanted an excuse to come see San again. But you would feel bad if you didn’t get something, especially after he talked a lot about these plants. You end up getting seeds for the African violets and a succulent plant you saw. You also get the soil and pots you need for the plants and head to the register to check everything out.
“Anything else I can get you? Maybe some plant fertilizer from our selection here?” San says as he gestures towards the glass display at the register. 
“Oh, that’s alright!” You respond. But you’re thinking to yourself “Maybe I can get your number and a date—” being very careful to not say it out loud. 
“Great! Then here is your total for everything. Just follow the instructions on the keypad.” 
You tap your card to pay for your new plant materials. As San is processing the payment you notice out the corner of your eye a door with a glass window. Through the window, you vaguely see a plant that you don’t think you saw anywhere in the store. You don’t think you’ve seen that plant in your life. You’re curious and turn to San. “What’s the plant in the room over there? Why isn’t it out here with the rest of the plants?” 
San freezes. It seems he wasn’t prepared to answer that question. Or maybe he forgot about the plant in the room across from the register. Whatever it was, he took a breath before answering.
“Oh, that is… a special plant of mine. It’s one of a kind but it grows like a weed so I try to keep it away from the rest of the plants. Trust me that’s… not a plant you want in your home. Or anywhere…” San hesitantly answers. His answer about the plant was different from his other answers. The answer didn’t have the same passion he had before. It seemed that he didn’t want to talk about the plant. You decided not to question him further and take your stuff off the register. 
“Please come back again! I enjoyed talking with you today!” San says before you leave. 
“Same here! I will definitely be back. I’d love to hear you talk about these plants more!” You respond smiling. 
You walk out of the shop realizing you were in there longer than you thought. Thankfully you went in the morning so it was late afternoon when you finally left the shop. You get back in the car with your new houseplant projects. You recount the day you had with San and didn’t find anything suspicious about the shop other than the weird room with the seemingly large plant. Although it was weird San was reluctant to answer the question about the plant, it wasn’t anything that rang any alarm bells. Maybe it was just an annoying plant. You drive off to your home, excited to add these new plants to your collection, and your mind on the pretty flower shop owner San.
~~~
San has a couple more customers come in after you leave. After the last customer leaves it’s evening time and San officially closes the shop and locks the door. He then goes to the back room, the room with the plant you had asked about.
“Finally you’re back! You got any fresh meat for me?” The plant says as San walks into the room. 
“No, I don't have any real food for you today. You’re going to have to suck it up and take my blood today.” San responds, seeming very annoyed.
“Aww come on! All those customers and not one you’re willing to sacrifice?” 
“I hope you realize that some people are starting to get suspicious. I can’t pick any random person to feed to you.” 
“Tough titty.”
San rolls his eyes as he picks up a knife nearby and cuts into his left arm. He holds the arm above the plant as the plant sucks up all the blood dripping from San. 
“I can’t survive on your blood forever. I need real human meat soon!” The plant says.
“You’ll get your ‘real food’ soon I promise. I have to lay low for a little while. I think someone filed a missing persons report on the last person I gave you. Probably what’s started all the rumors online.” San says as he gets bandages to wrap over his arm. 
“What about that girl that came in here earlier asking about me? The Furby girl?” 
“You heard that??”
“I hear everything. This shop ain’t that big sweet cakes.” 
“Fair. And no, under no circumstance are you allowed to even touch her.” San starts to get more annoyed with the plant at the mention of you.
“But, she would taste delicious. Could last me at least a week and a half!” 
San’s annoyance starts to turn into anger. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way about you. He just met you today, yet he can’t get you out of his mind. And he was just starting to get to know you, he doesn’t want that to disappear. He finishes wrapping the bandage around his arm and walks to the plant.
“If you do as much as lay a vine on that girl, I will not hesitate to rip out your roots and chop up every part of you until there is nothing left. Am I clear?” San says in a more sinister tone.
“Hmph, fine. Better fetch me a finger-licking good meal flower boy.” The plant responds in a condescending tone. 
“Goodnight Audrey.” 
San walks out of the room and heads to his apartment above the flower shop. He lands on his couch exhausted, wondering why he’s still taking care of that plant. But all of that doesn’t matter. All San is hoping as he drifts to sleep is that you don’t become his next victim, no matter the cost.
~~~ If you enjoyed consider leaving a like, reblog, and/or comment! It means a lot and I appreciate it 🩷
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azu1as · 4 months
Note
Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!
It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.
So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.
The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.
However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.
Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.
He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.
For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.
"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"
The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."
"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"
The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."
The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.
It snowballs from there.
All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.
The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.
Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!
On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.
Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.
Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.
It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.
The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.
And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.
%%%
Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.
'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.
"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.
Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."
He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!
"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.
Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—
"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."
—?????
"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.
"Yup. It's going to be great."
"No."
"'No'?"
Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.
...
...Oh no.
"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.
"...Sect Leader?"
Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!
The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.
"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."
Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"
Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.
If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.
And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.
((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))
"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.
But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!
"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"
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ozzgin · 7 months
Note
Hiii💕💕💕 Could you please make some hc with musashi and jun from baki please?
Yet another ancient request, so sorry about it. I've been struggling to think of a context, but as Valentine's Day approached, I thought, "Well, might as well turn this into a special". So here it is. I'm adding two-three extra characters for a bundle. Sorry for the wait. :')
Baki Headcanons: Valentine's Day Special
Featuring Jun Guevaru, Musashi Miyamoto, Baki Hanma, Chiharu Shiba and Pickle. And Reader as their Valentine! (Written according to Western customs for the sake of a pampered Reader)
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Jun Guevaru
Jun is a hopeless romantic and might actually enjoy Valentine's Day even more than you do. Mind you, the holiday itself is as superficial as it gets, and you've heard his philosophies one too many times; the enticing part is having an excuse to go all out and proclaim his affections for you in the most extravagant way possible. Can you blame him? He loves to show off. And you, sweet (Y/N), happen to be his most prized possession. A man will always be guilty of following his heart.
Although don't expect some cheap American fabrication that glorifies consumerism. His Valentine's Day isn't about that. Love can't be expressed through chocolate or flowers, at least not in his opinion. It's about raw feelings. The word, the tender caress. You can leave it to him to verbalize such depth. After all, he didn't unite an entire country with sheer luck. He is a charismatic leader and, most importantly, a passionate lover. His poetic speeches and sung praise will leave you entranced.
He, too, may be tempted to use the element of surprise. Perhaps through an overly formal letter expressing his utmost disappointment that he won't be able to see you on this particular date. Prison technicalities, you must understand. Nothing he can do about it. Then, when you least expect it, he'll pull you into a most desperate embrace. Oh, he missed you so much. He'll be ready to serenade you, take you places, whisper sweet nothings. You'll feign shock and surprise; you already guessed he wouldn't miss the chance to spoil you, but you do enjoy going along with his games. "Surely you didn't expect me to leave you alone on such a day, my beloved", he'll reassure you fondly. Allow him to prove himself anew.
Musashi Miyamoto
Musashi does not quite understand all of the particularities such a holiday entails. Nor would he normally care for the mundane customs of the modern world. Yet he has noticed the switch of your tone whenever you mention the approaching date. The sheepish glances towards the mysterious heart-themed merch. For someone as observant as him, your excitement is ridiculously clear, no matter how much you shake your head in denial. If his partner wants it, he might as well entertain it. Why not?
Thus, he will begin his little research. What is it that piques your interest to such a degree? He might employ the other fighters to enlighten him on the matter. An amusing sight, if one considers it: the legendary samurai, pacing back and forth as Tokugawa stumbles to follow behind. "W-what about this?" The old man will humbly suggest. "Oooh, fascinating. Yes, yes." He'll respond, holding his chin thoughtfully. "However, it's not (Y/N)'s style. Next."
Keep in mind that Musashi will tailor everything to fit his nature. Flowers? Maybe. All the other modern knick-knacks? Forget it. He'll do you one better. Something you won't expect, because it's a gift meant for his time and age. After a long, frustrating search, he finds what he's looking for. A most unusual sight, but something that represents him indeed. He will proudly extend to you a small, slender kodachi with his family's name inscribed on the scabbard. What greater honor than to share his love and passion? The weapon has been carefully built to his standards, so you may defend yourself if such a need ever arises. For Musashi himself to curate a sword bearing his name, you might as well count it as a proposal.
Pickle
Lately, Baki has been focused on things beyond Pickle's understanding. The only time he'd seen the young boy so excited was before a match. On the other hand, what kind of opponent would Baki be fighting where bizarre, heart-shaped items are required? After a lot of gesturing, rudimentary explanation and show-and-tell demonstration, it finally clicks: it's a special occasion, not preparations for battle.
An occasion that doesn't involve just Baki and Kozue, but, by the looks of it, anyone with a mate. The idea pumps his heart with excitement. Is it something he could celebrate with his own (Y/N)? In that case, he absolutely wants to be part of it. Pickle demands to be shown the ropes, so he, too, can impress his partner. Not that he's not already showing his love (and ownership) with every opportunity.
And so here you are, standing outside your apartment, utterly baffled, shocked, speechless. Pickle has surprised you many times before with his horny mischief and troublemaker shenanigans, but never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined him showing up with balloons, chocolate and a date itinerary on Valentine's Day. You retrieve the little list from his massive hands - he probably can't even read anything on it - and scan over the text. Someone definitely helped him compile everything. Judging from the varied handwriting, it must've been a group effort from Lord knows how many fighters who enjoyed themselves way too much in aiding Pickle's romancing game. Nonetheless you're impressed, just as the prehistoric man had hoped. He sees your blushing face and immediately grins with pride. Who knows, maybe his efforts will be rewarded handsomely (you won't be walking straight until March).
Baki Hanma
Among the other men, Baki may be the only one to show unironic enthusiasm towards the upcoming holiday. He likes cute things (you included) and there's no shame in it. His focus has been switching between training, fighting in the Arena, and more training. He's looking forward to a little break, especially one that allows him to spend time with you.
He's not secretive about the process, either. He'll show up at your place with a stack of flyers and scribbled notes, asking you to trim down activities with him. Worry not, he has compiled an extensive list of available events for couples, as well as places to visit and general ideas. After all, part of the fun is to plan everything with you. Can you tell he's excited? Kneeling at the table and flipping through the options with a wide grin on his face, you can almost discern a wagging tail materializing behind him.
He could be slightly biased towards activities that allow him to impress you. A Valentine's Day fair, for example, is such a cheesy idea, but he can't resist the temptation to show off. "Beat the high score and win the prize" blinking in flashy colors above one of those boxing arcade machines? Oops! He was trying to hold back, but he ended up dislodging the whole thing from the ground. Sorry, (Y/N), he simply forgets how strong he is, sometimes. Something hard to avoid, given you’re his greatest motivation. Aren’t you proud of your boyfriend? Do praise the poor boy, he’s been itching to receive your affection. It’s been an eternity! Or maybe half an hour, but still.
Chiharu Shiba
Chiharu isn't one to care much for holidays and under regular circumstances he would probably forget about it, too, were it not for the aid of capitalism and heavy commercial propaganda. Therefore, it's hard to ignore the rapidly approaching date given the blaring ads and themed products found on every shelf. Oh, well. He loves spoiling you and he certainly won't miss an opportunity to declare his love in the most cheesy, predictable manner.
He might be a tad cheeky about the entire business. "Valentine's Day? Hmmm..." He'll hum, thoughtfully, feigning mild indifference. It's a difficult task: seeing you cast your eyes down, perhaps a little disappointed, makes him want to smash his own head into the first telephone pole. No one should ever dare to upset you in the slightest - him included! - he thinks, enraged. He struggles to fight the urge. It's for a good cause. Just a few days left. Do forgive him, darling (Y/N).
He'll surprise you in the ways he knows best. Maybe some fresh, heart shaped decals decorating the gas tank of his motorcycle. A flashy, pink tokko-fuku (or uniform jacket) with a particular slogan embroidered on its back. Whatever it is, he'll make sure everyone is aware of his cause. While he might not be the best with words, his actions will be loud and clear. He'll hand you a helmet and gesture for you to hop on the back of his bike. He planned a day-long road trip for the two of you. What's nicer than feeling the wind, the freedom, the warmth of your small arms tightly wrapped around him? He doesn't need overly sophisticated restaurants or whatever else comes with the package. Some great sights and you by his side, and he's the happiest man on this planet. To think someone like him would be privileged enough to gaze at a pretty little thing like you.
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overnowsfcb · 9 months
Text
valentine; pablo gavi
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summary: experimenting love for the first time feels kind of weird, in the best way of the word.
warnings: none, just fluff.
word count: 1,8k
it was the first time you felt like you were inside a love story, the first time you empathized with the protagonists who felt butterflies in their stomachs every time they saw their beloved or smiled at the mere thought of them.
throughout your high school, you were that girl who had to witness your friends telling stories about holding hands, kissing and having sex with the right person, and helping them write and decorate letters for their partners on valentine’s day.
the only solution you found to dive into that world was in the books and movies. all you read was romance, hoping for one in real life. a kiss underneath the rain, a jacket around your shoulders when the air got cold, someone to accompany and hear you.
fortunately, your friends never made you feel left out. but you couldn't help but feel that way every time you saw them smile with their significant others. the epitome of that feeling was when you blew out the eighteen candles in your birthday cake, it felt like sealing your fate.
everyone applauding and cheering that you reached the majority of age. the only thing you did when everyone left wasn't opening the amount of presents they had given you.
you sat on the couch with the lights off and put your favorite rom-com on the tv, searching for ice cream on the fridge and a blanket. you knew every word of the movie, every scene, every detail. 
you had the same reaction as the first time you saw it. in a slumber party, when you were twelve. and that contrast is what gave you distress and shame, it had been six years and you still haven't had a romance. tears began to fall from your eyes, thinking that that person who would make you feel unique would never come.
it was almost funny how you manifested it in your life after watching it over and over again. after holidays, you applied for the first job that had vacancies to help your mother with your two younger siblings; she was having trouble covering everything with a single income.
your job at a small bookstore hidden in a secluded corner of barcelona didn't pay much, but it was your favorite place. you enjoyed organizing books, recommending them, and having conversations about them with interested customers.
you never would have imagined seeing one of your brother's favorite football players enter that store. the little bell above the door chimed, and you quickly looked up from the book you were finishing, right at the best part.
"buenas," (hi.) he said, approaching the counter. you tucked the book beneath it and stood up from the stool.
"buenas tardes, ¿cómo puedo ayudarte?” (good afternoon, how can I help you?) you smiled formally, just as you did with all customers. you were amazed at how pretty he was; your brother always watched his interviews, and you knew quite a bit about his life. however, you couldn't understand why it felt like a breeze of air had reached your face when he stood up in front of you.
"i was looking for a book for my sister. a birthday gift." you nodded and asked him to specify a bit more about her interests, and what genre she liked.
"ah, she's into mystery novels," he replied, his eyes scanning the shelves as if trying to find the perfect gift.
you led him to the mystery section, explaining the different authors and their styles. as you chatted, you couldn't help but notice how down-to-earth and friendly he was. you were an expert talking to new people, but this felt different, it was the perfect cadence.
he eventually settled on a classic detective novel, expressing gratitude for your assistance. as he paid for the book, he asked, "would it be too much trouble to have it gift-wrapped? it's a surprise for her, you see."
you gladly agreed, and as you carefully wrapped the book, he continued the conversation. he shared anecdotes about his sister's love for mystery stories and how he hoped this gift would bring her joy.
little did you know that after that interaction that brightened the rest of your day, it would turn into something much more significant.
you pondered whether you would see him again. had he felt the same as you? or maybe it was just your desperation, and how notting hill was engraved in your subconscious.
but sometimes, movie scripts weren't entirely wrong, like when you heard the little bell of the store ringing again a week later, this time while you were arranging some new books that had arrived, perched on the ladder.
"hi," he greeted excitedly. you directed your gaze to where the sound came from, and a smile appeared on your face. you were almost overcome with excitement, but you held on tightly to the ladder to not fall.
"good morning," you said, finishing arranging a book and descending from the ladder.
"my sister loved the book! she said it was the best gift ever," he beamed, making you feel great. he extended an invitation for coffee as a token of appreciation.
you didn't even know if it was professional to accept it while you were working, but you weren't hurting anyone. and that was the best decision you could ever make in your life.
every hope that you had murdered with resentment now resurrected with a new shine. what you thought was your destiny was just a moment in time.
it had been a challenge for pablo to make you believe that he truly wanted to be with you. countless times, he felt the need to explain how wonderful and precious you were.
you didn't know how to react to his compliments or sudden kisses. he was so spontaneous and impulsive, and you were so calculated and cold because he was everything you had ever dreamed of. but what if it was just a dream that could crumble at any moment?
yet, he took it upon himself day and night to make you feel like the most cherished woman. and how could you not feel that way with those crystal-clear eyes looking at you as if you were a sunset over the ocean?
he loved your laughter so much that he couldn't help but make jokes or clown around at every opportunity that presented itself.
he showed you a new way to see life, to explore a new spectrum of colors that had been withheld from you for so long, and dispelled certain beliefs that were imposed on your mind.
even your mother and your own friends adored him; they couldn't ask for more than your first love to be with such a dedicated and understanding guy, dispelling any lingering doubts.
he was the person who listened to you talk about your favorite books but also, had no problem listening when you complained about something going wrong.
the smallest and most imperceptible details were what made you fall a little more in love with him every day, confirming that you wanted to be by his side for eternity.
his angelic voice was engraved in the back of your mind, the first “i love you”, the sweet nothings he whispered in your ears the first time you decided to make love, assuring you that he would take care of you at every moment. and, of course, he protected his word, a man who never failed you.
sometimes, just sometimes, when you understood the great person the universe put in your path and remembered that you haven’t lose your mind trying to find a man like him. when you remembered his touch was completely real —something that took quite a while to accept— you flaunted him in front of everyone.
his eskimo kisses every time you felt down had become so essential and pure that they automatically reset your mind.
and you couldn’t forget how he had the gift of turning the simplest things into memories that you would fantasize to tell your grandchildren, sitting side by side, full of gray hair and wrinkles. the beauty of simplicity.
it was truly a movie-like love. a movie that your 16-year-old self would love with all her heart, and now you were living it firsthand, and it was true. it existed, and no one could take it away from you.
“i don't ever wanna let go of you. i want us to stay like this, like sloths, for the rest of our lives.” you giggled, amused by his antics and nose nuzzling affectionately against your neck. he squeezed your waist with his hand and got you trapped with his leg over your body.
“i would love to do that too, baby. but unfortunately, we're only human, and i still can't be late for work.” you moved his leg and replacing the pout of his lips with a sweet kiss. you could spend hours listening to him talk. 
he grabbed your cheeks and showered your face with kisses while you laughed. “seriously!”
“i hate that you have to work.”
“you should be grateful, because if i didn't have this job, you would've never meet me.” his eyes sparkled with affection as you headed off, leaving behind the warmth of his presence but carrying the glow of his love within you. 
he often wondered if you knew you were his first true love. none of the women who came before you stood up to the way he couldn't help but think and speak of you, of your remarkable essence as a person.
it was as if meeting you had illuminated a part of his soul he didn't know existed—a feeling so profound, it reshaped his understanding of love. your presence felt like the missing piece he'd been searching for, and with every passing day, he found himself falling deeper.
once, he couldn't fathom the allure of romantic movies, convinced they portrayed an unrealistic, overly idealized version of love. how could it possibly measure up to reality? it felt like a sudden twist in the game when he discovered the depth of love in the embrace of a girl who adored those movies. it was through this realization that he understood—love was far more beautiful than any screenwriter could ever capture. 
the movies could never capture the immensity of his emotions during those fleeting moments when he danced with you, be it in the disco or under the soft kitchen light because it held the same intimacy. it was in the way your voice still trembled ever so slightly when you praised him and the way your cheeks flushed with color when he returned the compliment.
for both of you, it was a fairytale woven into reality. you, always yearning for it, and him, a skeptic who never believed in such tales.
the enchantment and genuineness were evident in every shared glance and each entwined finger. it was etched in the lines of your palms, you were meant to be timeless.
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ladychota · 1 year
Text
Remember It All
Pairing - Loki x Female Reader
Warnings - Memory loss (lmk if you want me to add anything)
Summary - Y/n is working at the coffee shop with MJ when a mysterious visitor arrives to order drinks.
Word Count - 1.2k
Masterlist
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"So... did you guys get in to MIT?" You ask, fiddling with the bandage wrapped tightly around your left hand.
"Nope," MJ tosses her letter into the bin nearby. "Neither did Peter or Ned,"
You sigh. "Ugh, I'm so annoyed that the world believes all that Mysterio crap. If only it hadn't affected you all so,"
MJ hums in agreement. "It's okay. I was kinda expecting it anyways,"
"You expect disappointment so you'll never be disappointed?" You quote the line she has said so many a time, especially since the whole Spiderman and Mysterio nonsense. You feel for Peter - he's a nice kid.
"Mhm, exactly,"
The shop's doorbell chimes as someone walks in, hands in their pockets to stave off some of the winter cold.
"I'll get that. You take as much time as you need, okay?" You say, walking over to the counter.
A man stands in front of it, scanning the menu. He has black, shoulder length hair and his eyes are a stunning - almost familiar - green. You swear you've seen him before, but where? Every soft curve and smile line in his face looks right... except the deep bags under his eyes. For some reason you want to place your hand on his face and smooth them out...
But this man is a stranger. You don't even know his name.
"Hey, how can I help?" You ask, brushing away your odd thoughts.
"Uh hi, can I-" He turns to you and freezes, eyes wide. He just stands there in silence for a few seconds, his eyes scanning your face. Normally you'd find this rather creepy, but this feels strangely... right.
The man turns away and looks out of the shop window to where a man with long, blonde hair stands. He beams at the man in front of you.
"Um..." He hums, turning back to you. "Could I have two coffees... please? The name is Loki,"
You nod and start preparing the drinks, trying to ignore the gaze of the man behind you. Loki... that name is also very familiar. But you have no idea why; it's getting rather frustrating.
In no time at all, the coffees are ready; you place them on the counter and secure the lids.
"Loki?" You call. He doesn't respond. "Loki? Your coffees," He seems to jolt from his thoughts, striding over quickly to pay. 
"Of course, sorry. And thank you," He slides a ten dollar note onto the counter, a sad grin playing on his face. "Keep the change,"
You nod and open the till, picking up the money and sliding it in. "Thanks,"
"Uh... are you alright?" You look up, noticing that Loki now wears a concerned expression. He points at your bandage-bound hand.
"Oh! Yes, thanks. You know, I don't actually know how I did it. I just kind of... woke up one day and I had a huge gash in the middle of my palm," You chuckle at the strangeness of the situation, thinking of the other random cuts and bruises all over your body.
"But it's okay," You continue, for some reason feeling safe to talk in such detail to this man. "It doesn't hurt too much anymore. And I can use it just fine!"
Loki smiles a sad yet happy smile; one that looks as if he's yearning for something but knows he can't have it - possibly for the better.
"Well, I'm glad it's healing well," He picks up the drinks he ordered. "And, uh-" He clears his throat. "Thank you... for everything,"
He smiles, his eyes glittering with... tears? Is he upset? But, as much as you are worried for him, you are extremely confused. Why is he so thankful? All you did was make him some coffee and spit out some sob story about your injury.
Your brow furrows, but you smile anyway. "No problem..."
Usually you wish customers a good day before they leave the shop, but you seem to be frozen as you watch him walk out, handing one of the drinks to the blonde haired man as they walk out of sight.
"What the hell was that about?" MJ calls across the shop, speaking your thoughts aloud.
You shake your head slowly, your gaze stuck to where the man just stood. "I have no idea..."
Snapping out of your daze, you grab a donut in a serviette and place it on the counter in front of MJ.
"Thanks," She says, picking up the food. "Honestly though, he's either a creep or a long lost lover of yours,"
"Really? A long lost lover?" You laugh, your smile not reaching your eyes.
A long lost lover...
Suddenly an image pops into your mind of you and Loki sitting exactly where you and MJ are now, his hand clasped in yours on top of the counter. A small, loving smile plays on his lips as you talk, his thumb rubbing slowly over your knuckles.
"Well, duh." MJ jokes. "I mean-"
You don't hear her finish that sentence. Image after image of you and Loki fly through your head - it feels as if you've been hit by a bolt of lightning, each memory shuddering through you like electricity.
Before you can even process what you're doing, you're running towards the door.
"Wait, Y/n! Where are you going?!" MJ calls out to you.
"I'll be back!" Is all you manage to say as you slip through the door and begin to run down the street.
You and Loki were dating! You were a thing! He was yours and you were his...
And yet, you forgot. How the hell did you forget!?
But that is a concern for later. For now, you have to catch up with him.
You push past everyone on the sidewalk until you see the two men up ahead. Thor and Loki...
"Loki! Wait!" You yell, not caring who hears or sees.
Your thoughts and memories are too jumbled up to know exactly how long it's been since you forgot, but for a while you've been feeling as if something has been missing. Moreover, someone.
The two Gods turn upon hearing your shout, their eyes wide with confusion. Panting, you come to a stop in front of them.
"Y/n? Are you quite alright?" Loki asks, a spark of realisation flaring in his eyes. But he doesn't dare ask for fear he's being too hopeful. 
A smile crawls onto your face, tears springing into your eyes as you realise how much you've unknowingly missed him.
"Y-you... me..." You're still panting after having run down the block, words not forming correctly in your mouth.
Loki just watches you, handing his coffee cup to Thor and waiting patiently for you to finish your flustered attempt at a sentence.
Instead, you reach up and place a hand on his face. He doesn't flinch away, but leans in to your touch, tears welling at the bottom of his eyes.
"I remember... I remember it all..." Your voice is strained and choked by tears. Loki's hands cup your face, his thumbs running over your cheeks and collecting the wet trails.
"You do?" He whispers.
You nod, moving your hands to cover his. He lets out a bewildered laugh before leaning down and smashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.
Eventually he pulls away, murmuring: "I love you, my darling... and I'm so sorry,"
"It's alright, you have nothing to apologise for," You reassure, your heart swelling. "I love you too," Your lips meet his once more as you decide to never let go of him again.
~★~
A/N - Not sure how I feel about this one so feel free to let me know your thoughts! :)
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ckret2 · 1 year
Note
👀 I want to hear more about this Bill AU
You were the very first person to send me an ask about the Bill AU, and it was an open-ended question, so I've been saving your ask special for... a fanfic. IDK how often or how much I'm gonna write actual full fic for this AU but for now, here: the first half of Bill's reunion with the Pines family. (Attempted murder included.)
(Edited 7/28/2024 - now compatible with TBOB!)
####
February 25, 2013
The vengeful demon standing in the door of the Mystery Shack possessed only four items in the universe:
Two safety pins.
A time tape tied around his waist like a belt.
And a tunic he'd fashioned himself in the style of an ancient Greek Doric chiton, folded and pinned so perfectly that the wearer must have seen them thousands of years ago when they were at the height of fashion.
Soos couldn't identify an authentic Doric chiton. All he knew was that the tourist who'd just come in looked like a short fat lady with brown skin, curly golden hair, weirdly skinny arms, bulging jaundiced eyes, and a toga made out of a bright purple children's Pony Heist bedsheet.
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Soos laughed, flashing the tourist a double thumbs up. "Hey! Awesome toga. That should really be like a thing. Imagine if we all wore togas. We could just wake up, roll our bedsheets around us like a burrito, and go out!"
"Watch out, you can't tell when Big Fashion is listening in." 
"Haha. Who?"
The tourist hadn't looked at Soos once; instead, her gaze was darting around the shop restlessly.
"Are you shopping for something specific?" Soos asked with his best customer service voice. "Post cards? Snow globes? Weird taxidermy thingamajigs? Pants?"
"Where are the Pines?" the tourist asked, casting a sharp look at the "employees only" door, then the vending machine.
"Oh, Mr. Pines! The original Mr. Mystery! Heh—he actually retired a few months ago. The Mystery Shack's under new management!" Soos planted his fists on his hips and puffed up his chest. "It's me, I'm the new management."
"But where are they?" the tourist pressed.
"Uhh, he and his bro are somewhere in South America, I think? Hey, if you wanna meet him in person, his last letter said he might visit for spring break if the family can make it. First week in April."
"First week in April," the tourist muttered. She glanced over her shoulder toward the door, thoughtfully fiddling with the time tape wrapped around her waist.
"Oh, dude! I've tried to use a tape measure as a belt too! Haha! It worked great, until I bumped the button and it retracted. Yeesh. Hey, do you want a fur belt? We sell fur belts now." Soos turned away, rummaging through the new display next to the t-shirts. "They're all sustainably, ethically harvested! I bought a bunch of old rugs from the Northwest Manor to slice up."
Soos grabbed up a fuzzy pink belt. "Check it, I think this is unicorn hide or something. Bet it'd go so good with that Pony Heist toga..."
The tourist had seemingly vanished in thin air. Soos looked around. "Huh." He shrugged and stuck the belt on a shelf beneath the cash register in case she came back and decided she wanted it later.
Once all the other visitors had left for the day, and Soos was left alone to clean up, he thought back to that togaed tourist whose yellowish eyes had never stopped moving—the way she'd looked toward the door as though worried someone was following her. Soos glanced around the shop nervously. "Is anyone there?" He lifted his broom like a samurai sword. "Hello? Big Fashion?"
Nothing answered. He shrugged and kept sweeping.
###
April 1, 2013
A vengeful demon who possessed nothing but two safety pins, a time tape belt, and a purple Pony Heist bedsheet chiton stood in the center of the Mystery Shack gift shop.
Which was weird, because Soos didn't hear the door and she totally hadn't been standing there a moment ago.
"Oh hey! Toga Lady!" Soos turned to Wendy, who was picking up a few bucks working spring break while Melody visited her family. "It's Toga Lady. She came in like a month ago. The toga's cool, right? I think it's cool."
Wendy glanced up, choked back a laugh, and scrambled to grab her phone for a picture.
"So, where are the Pines?" Toga Lady asked, with an edge of impatience.
"Oh, dude, did you come all the way back here to meet them? Sorry, the Mr. Pineses couldn't make it. They couldn't get a flight out of Atlanta." Soos stopped, frowned, and pulled a water-stained letter from his pocket to double check. "Sorry, Atlantis. Something about a giant lobster attack?"
"Daryll would pick now to invade," Toga Lady muttered. "I suppose the children aren't here."
How did she know about the children? Maybe she'd visited last summer and remembered them? Like, early summer, before Pony Heist came out. Soos would have remembered the toga. "Naw, heh. They went to Roswell."
"Oh, cool," Wendy said distractedly, busy texting a picture of Toga Lady to everyone she knew. "Checking out the competition."
"Yeah, Dipper's sending me like a billion pictures of the alien museum."
"Well," Toga Lady said impatiently, "when are they showing up?"
Soos was beginning to get the impression that Toga Lady was less an admiring fan, and more one of those customers. The kind that used speaking to the manager as a threat. All the same, he said, "June first, for sure. That's when the kids get here for summer break so the Mr. Pineses are coming too. Definitely. Promise."
She rolled her eyes—one of them twitched, like she'd gotten something in it and was struggling to keep it open—but said, "All right, fine! June. What's the difference? I've waited this long." She leaned next to the door by the snow globe shelves, fiddling with her belt, as if she was settling in to wait right there for the next two months.
Soos frowned—she might drive off tourists, blocking the door like that—but said, "Oh! While you're here, I thought you might be interested in this belt." He reached past Wendy to grab it from beneath the cash register. "I didn't get a chance to show you last time before—"
He looked toward the door. She was gone. "Huh. Did you see Toga Lady leave?"
Wendy shrugged. "Wasn't looking."
"Huh." Soos replaced the belt. At least he knew when he'd see her next.
###
June 1, 2013
"What's with the belt?" Stan asked.
"Oh! It's for a regular." Soos pointed with both hands at the fuzzy pink belt peeking beneath his suit jacket. "I think she's comin' today. She wanted to meet the original Mr. Mystery."
"Hey, an admirer." Stan's chest puffed out and his grin widened. "Is she cute?"
"Uh... if you like bedsheet togas?"
"Ooh, a party girl."
"These are new," Ford said, inspecting a jar with an alien fetus floating in green goo.
"Oh, yeah!" Soos said, following as Stan joined Ford at the glass display case. "Dipper sent me like, a billion keychains of these little alien guys from Roswell. So I started filling Abuelita's empty spice jars with aliens and green jello. Cool, huh? It looks like we stole them from a secret government lab or something."
Stan laughed, slinging an arm around Soos. "Listen to this! Brilliant! I knew I put the right guy in charge."
Soos grinned goofily. "Aw, gee, Mr. Pines..."
A flash of purple caught the corner of his eye. Toga Lady was leaning next to the door by the snow globe shelves, fiddling with her belt.
Here was a chance to show off his great business instincts with Stan watching. Time to make a sale. "Oh, hey, Toga Lady! I didn't hear you come in! Still rockin' Pony Heist, huh? Hey, I've been trying to show you this belt I think you'll like..."
But she wasn't listening to him. Her gaze was fixed on the Pines twins' backs. As Soos watched, her expression darkened, and her grin widened.
The vengeful demon reached past the snow globes, seized a heavy "mysterious green crystal cluster ($250)" made of glue and broken glass, and heaved it up over his head. "Hey, Sixer!" Face contorted in a snarl of a smile, he turned the cluster over, sharp shards pointing downward. "Welcome home!"
Bill Cipher swung the glass weight down toward Ford's head.
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(If you wanna keep reading, all chapters are on tumblr right here!)
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scara-meow-che · 2 years
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𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ sweet little thing with yae miko
CW. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader, name-calling (pup, puppy, little thing), oral (character receiving), mentions of virginity, abuse of authority, corruption kink
AN. reposted work. gAH the way i was so downbad for yae when i made this. i swear when i saw her at the shrine, i legit almost barked for her <3 still full heart eyes for her.
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ignorance is bliss.
that's what they all said to you, eyes softening whenever you peered up with doe-looking ones. your head tilting to the side, lips inquiring about every thought that ran past your head that fast to make your points.
you never once held yourself back from knowing what's more to know. being taught there's nothing wrong in exploring what this world has to offer. an adorable glow of curiosity blooms inside your heart, garnering the image of purity and innocence.
innocence is bliss.
that's what yae miko had thought the moment she saw you at the shrine, paying the chief priestess herself a visit after hearing her help with one of your close relative's dilemma with possession. then came next when a person with high status dared visit the humble home to announce how you were chosen by the great guuji to be one of the new shrine maidens. ah, the way your eyes sparkled when she uttered your name, she can never live down the image of purity in you.
for all things pure in this world can never escape the grudge of corruption. ruination is inevitable but that doesn't matter for—
yae miko wishes to be the one to ruin you herself.
honor, it was truly an honor to work alongside yae in the shrine. all your life, you've always been drawn to the beauty and mystery hidden in the beliefs and customs here in inazuma. your parents had wholeheartedly supported your departure, bidding you with such charms and letters, and the chief priestess smiles at the enthusiasm expressed by your family on the day she set foot in your home.
"ah, our sweet little f/n is finally going to do big things!" said your father where your dear mother adds, "yes, it feels like yesterday when you were our little girl."
the sweet messages had warmed your heart, face flushing as you get showered by almost everyone from the little community there in konda village. the elderly were in awe, waving with such soft smiles on their faces. the ever-curious yet beaming with innocence l/n f/n is finally going to do big things! such luck may bring prosperity to the village and the people can never ask for more!
and that's what you thought, the moment you followed yae through the path to the shrine. hands clutched tight on the small bag you carry as you were told that they are the ones to provide you with clothing. you needn't worry about anything, that's what they assured you, and yet your mind dances on the edges of your interest.
but you stopped yourself, not wanting to interrupt lady yae to her musings. you do not wish to ruin the gentleness in her eyes, looking back at you as she showed you around inside the shrine and led you to your quarters. you do not question why she would lay a hand on your shoulders, leaving a gentle squeeze as she bids you good night for the first night in narukami shrine.
you kept your lips screwed shut and eagerly observed what's bound to happen next yet your eyes would always daringly shimmer in the wonders you kept on absorbing as you follow the head priestess around like a puppy.
yes, you did not once question why she'd always refer to you as a puppy.
"come here, pup," it was yet again one night where she told you to visit her in the privacy of her room. a short whisper in the morning would grow magnitudes of screams inside your head as you let her simple orders affect your daily duties. questions had blossomed in your heart yet as your lungs tried to exhale it all out, your lips would keep themselves shut and you'd fail in expressing every word you dearly wanted to say.
"yes, my lady." an obedient nod and a short answer were all you could give as a way to acknowledge her orders. slowly, you made your way to yae who was clad in a loose white kimono that looked gloriously on her body.
as you reached the ends of her bed, her dainty fingers had beckoned you to go closer, and closer, and closer until you stood beside her bed frame. the gentle candle lights of the room had her skin glowing so beautifully, her pupils dilating and her eyes shining as she looks at you with emotions you aren't sure of.
"would you obey whatever i say, pup?" she asks, her hand making its way up from your stomach and all the way to the middle of your chest. she smiles when she sees you trembling, nodding when she let her finger slide against your breasts.
"m-my lady..." the short break from your voice had aroused yae more than she could ever have imagined before, her lips letting out a satisfied sigh before she rubs small circles on your nipple that peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt. "t-this isn't right..."
you felt conflicted when yae didn't stop flicking and circling the pad of her pointer finger on your nipple, biting down your lips to prevent the prurient and sinful noises you knew you'd been producing. yae watches you in awe, loving how reactive you are to her touches.
"hm? do you think that what i'm doing is... wrong, sweet f/n?"
you slowly shake your head as you can't make up another thought when she now uses two of her fingers to pinch at your sensitive buds, causing a loud squeal from your shaking body.
"ah, where are your manners. everyone at the shrine is already sleeping, f/n." her voice was gentle, so, so gentle you can't keep yourself composed when she easily had you under her control.
your lady yae had always been there to share her thoughts, and her strong opinions on different pressing matters none had ever discussed with you during your time as a normal inazuman. no one had dared cross in shedding you towards the light of knowledge but lady yae had been there to inform you of the things she knew you were fawning over.
but was it really the light you had been longing to know of? or was it this twisted darkness you know you can no longer turn your back from once it had corrupted your sweet and innocent mind?
"i think i ought to teach you a way you can make use of your noisy mouth... would you want to know what it is, you sweet little thing?"
corruption, and addiction. the sweet taste of you being ruined by none other than her own exploitation on your curious and naive mind—she shudders just thinking how she personally has her own obedient puppy.
her question had your mind buzzing in gullible inquisitiveness, the weakness she knew how to take advantage of had you leaning towards her body, slowly moving down to your knees, and patiently waiting for her next command. "yes, my lady. please, tell me."
the desire to know and the thirst to enlighten had glowed in both your eyes.
"very well then," she beams with the dreamy quirk of her lips, lilac orbs dilating as she spreads her legs open and propped herself to have you facing her already glistening sex. you were surprised to see her lady not wearing any undergarments but as soon as her fingers slip down from the middle of her body, the same fingers that had prodded and teased your nipples, made their way down to part her lower lips that came along with a breathy moan.
you never said another word, your eyes were more than enough to express multitudes of the questions you wanted to ask while you gaze at all her glory. she was flushed pink, smooth as your eyes scanned everything you want to know about her lady but never once did you go ahead to satiate the curiosity you've always had. you let yae herself be the one to show you, to inform you, to do what you longed for the people to do for you.
"no one ever had the heart to tell you what there is to know out there, am i right f/n?"
you saw how she rubs the little nub protruding off her sex, that one place you once accidentally touched and felt the jolt of electricity shocking your body. she now answered another of your questions by hearing her softly moan out your name, her finger gliding up and down the same spot before she pushes it deeper inside her cunt.
your eyes had glowed in worry, knowing how you once poked the little hole of your body and the sting had hurt you so much. and yae knew just exactly as what you were thinking off, spreading her legs as wide as she can and lets her whole finger sink and disappear inside of her.
"there's no need for such trepidation to worry your head, f/n. i can also show you how to do this without hurting yourself," she offers with a very calm tone, even when her chest rises up and down and her breathing got a little ragged when she added a second finger. "but first, i have to teach you how you'd use your mouth from now on, okay?"
"yes, my lady."
"good, now, kiss me... here." baffled, you blinked two, three times before you tilt your head to the side and looked at where she was pointing at. she had her free hand resting on the middle of her thighs, clearly indicating where she wanted you to start from.
"don't be shy, i'll always guide you."
you felt so reassured and at that moment, you gained such confidence to let your lips press gentle pecks on her skin, her small little sighs blessing you with such sounds you wanted to hear more. and you never let a patch of her soft and smooth skin left unscathed by your kisses, her hands brushing your hair had to encourage you to leave open-mouthed ones as she had told you to do.
"there, you're so good, f/n. my sweet puppy so eager to listen and obey. now, i want you to start kissing me down.... here," she instructs with her fingers spreading her pussy lips. "then you'd use your tongue to lick me, is that understood?"
and, as obedient as ever, you nodded before moving down to her crotch, continuing to trail down your kisses until you reached the skin of her cunt drenched with her own arousal.
"yes, kiss me right there and lick okay?" yae's voice was soft yet held amounts of control in every syllable she uttered as you started doing what you were told to do. at first, you felt odd to have your mouth pressed down to her sex but seeing yae generously giving you praises was so rewarding on its own.
she would constantly hum, her teeth would sink on her lips to keep in the whimpers she was bound to let go of once you began licking on her clit. just as you've seen earlier, she had used a fair amount of time rubbing it, swirling her fingers at a torturously slow pace.
and that's what you did, you used your tongue to mimic what she did earlier. and when you'd look up, you are given the view of your lady with her eyes closed, her fox ears twitching delightedly, an enticing smile on her face. as you dap and slurp on her clit, you can taste how sweet she is and that fuels more of the insatiable appetite this desire to see more reactions from your lady.
"i-i never knew you'd be so g-good at this, f/n. hnngg... there, just like that." yae snakes her hand towards your well-kept hair, the smooth ends are now tangled between her fingers as she pushed you deeper between her legs. your hands had instinctively gone to grab a hold of her thighs as she had both her legs squeezing your head went your tongue had scraped so lightly on her puckering and dripping hole.
"want you to put your tongue inside of me, can you do that?"
the urgency in her voice and the way she peered down at you was addicting, dominating your sense of logic as it frayed away into nothing but complete obedience as a way of showing such gratitude to your lady.
with a brief nod of your head, you started to poke out your tongue and let it enter the entrance to her cunt. so sweet, she both taste and smell so sweet while your nose brushes so roughly on her clit when yae had gripped on your hair and let her maneuvered your head to thrusting up and down her needy cunt.
"do you know now, f/n? starting from today, you're about to learn a lot of things from me. i will teach you everything you need to learn while you are under my care, okay?"
as close as you were getting lost inside her cunt, yae had pulled your from your hair and waited for your reply. and there it was, the look you always give when you get the answers to your question, the look she grew fond of and addicted to seeing.
doe eyes shimmering in interest, lips grinning but glows faintly from the juices covering your skin, chest going up and down from how breathless you were at that moment. the start of corruption, all thanks to her.
she would use everything of her power just to see you look at her like that even when it means to defile what innocence was left unsullied by those around you. she would have the utmost pleasure to be the only person that has corrupted the angel they once thought to be.
oh, she won't let anyone take your purity. she won't allow anyone to hold such power over you.
"my sweet little thing, i am looking forward to all the time we're bound to share with one another."
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⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content
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grayhyacinth · 7 days
Text
A Tea Party
Is this another Gravity Falls fan fic?! I've been hooked on Gravity Falls (again). Anyways, enjoy something fun!
Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist
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“One order of our hotcakes! Coming right up!” you call out with a wide smile, effortlessly weaving between tables and customers. The Greasy’s Diner is packed to the brim, the clatter of cutlery and hum of conversation creating a symphony of Friday evening energy. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the sweet scent of syrup as you glide past a table where a stack of pancakes is being devoured by a group of teenagers.
The diner itself, a quaint train car labeled "Gravity Falls 1883," is a relic of the town’s history, and tonight, it’s alive with the warmth and nostalgia of simpler times. The worn leather booths are filled with families and friends enjoying classic American comfort food—hamburgers, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, soda, and milkshakes, all made to satisfy both hunger and soul.
Lazy Susan, the heart and soul of the diner, oversees everything with her usual charm, her one perpetually closed eye giving her an endearing, slightly mysterious air. She’s been running this place for as long as anyone can remember, and her infectious laughter can be heard even over the din of the crowded room.
“Hey!” you shout over the noise as you approach the open window to the kitchen. “Got another ticket for ya!” You bend down a metal wire to pin the slip of paper, letting it snap back up with a satisfying twang.
“Thanks, (Y/n)!” The chef, whose name you’ve yet to recall, shoots you a playful finger gun, his other hand expertly flipping an omelet on the stove. The kitchen is a sensory overload of sizzling fats, bubbling sauces, and the constant rhythm of plates being prepped and passed out.
“No problem, dude,” you reply, smirking as you return the finger gun, before making your way back to Lazy Susan. The older woman is deep in conversation with a couple at the counter, their discussion sprinkled with the latest gossip from Gravity Falls. You catch snippets of their chatter—a local kid has gone missing, and the only clue left behind is a tiny red shoe fit for a doll.
You roll your eyes internally. Probably just some runaway who ruined the carpet with too much of playable slime, you think, stifling a grin. Parents can be scarier than any of the weird creatures around here.
“Hey there, ladies!”
Your attention snaps to the front door just as you reach for a glass to prep another milkshake. A grizzled old man saunters in, his hand raised high in a wave that’s a little too enthusiastic for someone his age. He’s got two kids in tow, and his black suit, with the missing fez, oozes with charisma—or at least, his version of it.
The boy, who you quickly recognize as Dipper, follows behind, rubbing his elbow, clearly embarrassed by the old man’s antics. The girl, Mabel, matches her great-uncle’s energy, waving confidently at the diner patrons as they find an empty booth.
You set down the rag and milkshake glass, grabbing three menus instead. The large red letters reading "Greasy’s Diner" stand out on the covers, framed by retro designs that scream classic Americana.
As you approach the booth, you paste on your best customer-pleasing smile. “Evening, Stan!” you say brightly, handing him a menu before turning to the twins. “How are you, Mabel?” You purposely ignore Dipper, even going as far as handing his menu to Mabel.
Dipper’s mood shifts the moment he spots you. He straightens up, as if caught off guard by your presence. “(Y/N)—” he start.
Mabel, ever the bubbly one, beats him to it. “(Y/n)! You’re working today!”
You smile back, genuinely pleased to see her. “Yep. Friday nights are usually the busiest. Wouldn’t want to miss out on the money.”
Stan cuts in with a wide grin, his voice booming across the diner. "Why, I like my money like I like my pancakes! Stacked high and never touched by anyone but me!" He chuckles, clearly pleased with his joke, and then adds, “Only I know how to properly appreciate a good stack!”
You laugh, though it’s a bit forced, but you appreciate the effort. He’s still a paying customer, you remind yourself, though you can’t help but find some amusement in his antics. “So, a stack of fresh, hot pancakes for you, then?”
“You betcha!” Stan says, swinging his arm proudly.
You turn your attention to the twins, holding your notepad ready. “And what about you two?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice as you wait for their orders.
Dipper glances up at you, his confidence returning just a bit. “I’ll have the, uh… the usual,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a hint of something in his voice.
Mabel beams, clearly more interested in the interaction between you and her brother than the menu. Her eyes darts between the two of you. “I’ll have the biggest milkshake you can make!” she chirps, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
As you jot down the orders, you can’t help but notice the way Dipper’s gaze lingers on you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out. There’s something different in the air tonight—an unspoken tension that’s annoying.
Walking away, you pin the order slip to the metal wire with a little more force than necessary, the clatter echoes in the busy diner. You try to shake off the strange feeling lingering from Dipper’s gaze, but it nags at you. What’s his problem, anyway?
It’s not the first time Dipper’s actions have left you feeling sidelined. You can’t help but remember the countless instances where his obsession with solving mysteries and spending time with Grunkle Ford took precedence over his promises to you. One memory, in particular, stands out:
A few weeks ago, you, Dipper, and Mabel had planned a simple day out together—nothing special, just some time to hang out, grab ice cream, and maybe catch a movie. It was supposed to be a break from all the supernatural chaos that constantly surrounded Gravity Falls.
But then, just as you were about to head out, Dipper received a call from Grunkle Ford. There was some new anomaly that needed investigating, and in an instant, Dipper’s focus shifted entirely. “I’m really sorry, but Ford needs me for this,” he had said, already halfway out the door before you could respond. “We’ll hang out later, I promise!”
“Later” never came. Dipper had spent the entire day with Ford, lost in whatever mystery they were unraveling. You wouldn’t even had mind his behavior, if he bothered to invite you!
You had tried to brush it off, telling yourself that Dipper didn’t mean any harm, that he just got caught up in the moment. But it wasn’t the first time this had happened. There were other days, other plans that had fallen because of some mystery that he had to solve with Ford. And it wasn’t just the cancellations. Even when you did something thoughtful for him—like covering for him during one of his late-night research sessions or helping him decode a cryptic passage in the journal—he rarely seemed to acknowledge it. There were no thanks, no gestures to return the favor. It was as if he took your support for granted.
Over time, those small slights and unfulfilled promises built up, leaving you feeling more like a convenient sidekick than a true partner in his adventures. You had your own interests, your own life, but it often felt like Dipper only noticed you when it served his latest quest.
You huffed loudly, to no one in particular, and busied yourself by filling up three glasses with water and ice, but your mind keeps drifting back to Dipper. Maybe he’s just trying to get under your skin, like usual. You roll your eyes at the thought, but the annoyance doesn’t fade.
“How’s the shift, sweetie?” An older man beckons you over, his warm smile instantly putting you at ease.
You return the smile, walking over to him with a friendly nod. You place the cups on a round silver tray, the ice clinking gently in the glass cups. “It’s busy, but that’s how I like it. How about you? How’s your evening going?”
The man chuckles, adjusting his cap. His finger laces around a mug of dark fizz, soda you presume. He brings it to his lips for a sip. “Oh, just fine. I’ve been coming to this diner since before you were born, I reckon. Always a pleasure to see a new face behind the counter. You’re doing a great job, kid.”
You laugh softly, leaning on the counter as you chat with him. “Well, thanks! I’m just trying to keep up with the pace around here. Greasy’s is a pretty lively spot.”
As you continue your pleasant conversation, you notice the older man’s eyes light up as he talks about his favorite memories of the diner. You find yourself genuinely enjoying the exchange, smiling and laughing as the workday stress melts away.
However, unbeknownst to you, Dipper’s expression darkens as he watches you and the older man chatting. He’s hands are clenched a little too tightly, and his jaw is set in a way that’s impossible to ignore.
Just as the older man begins telling a story, you hear a commotion coming from the booth where Dipper and his family are seated. Mabel is leaning across the table, whispering something to Stan with a mischievous grin. Her brother glances at them, his eyes narrowing slightly, and suddenly, you have the distinct feeling they’re plotting something.
Your suspicion is confirmed when Mabel raises her hand, calling you over. “(Y/n)! Can we get some extra napkins? I think we’re gonna need them!”
You raise an eyebrow, but nod, grabbing a handful of napkins from the dispenser and the round tray of ice cold water. As you approach their table, you notice Stan looking far too innocent, while Dipper avoids eye contact altogether, staring intently at the salt shaker as if it holds the secrets of the universe.
“Here you go,” you say, handing the napkins to Mabel. She beams up at you, but there’s a glint in her eye that makes you hesitate. You smoothly slide the cups of water to each customer. Something’s definitely up.
You glance at Stan, who’s grinning behind his menu, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. The con-man is a walking prankster, and with Mabel involved, there’s no telling what they’ve cooked up. Dipper finally peeks up at you, his cheeks slightly flushed, but he quickly looks away again when he catches your gaze
“Thanks, (Y/n)! You’re the best,” Mabel chirps, her tone a little too sweet. Before you can respond, she "accidentally" knocks over her cup of water, sending a cascade of ice cubes and liquid spilling across the table—right onto Dipper’s lap.
Dipper jumps up with a startled yelp, grabbing the napkins to frantically blot at the spreading wet patch on his pants. “Mabel!” he hisses, his face turning a deep shade of red.
“Oh no! Dipper, I’m so sorry!” Mabel exclaims, though the grin tugging at her lips betrays her true feelings.
Stan bursts out laughing, slapping the table with delight. “That’s my girl! Good one, Mabel!”
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh, but the sight of Dipper, usually so composed and serious, flailing around like that is too much. A snort escapes before you can stop it.
“Oh, so you think this is funny, huh?” Dipper snaps, glaring at you, but there’s no real anger in his voice—just frustration mixed with embarrassment.
“Maybe a little,” you tease, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “Need some help, or do you got this?”
Dipper’s eyes narrow as he grabs a handful of napkins, blotting at the mess. “I’m fine, thanks,” he mutters, though the wet stain on his shirt suggests otherwise.
Mabel, still giggling, tries to cover for her brother. “Come on, Dipper, it’s not that bad. Besides, maybe (Y/n) can help you clean up. You know, since she’s so good at her job.”
You’re about to retort when Stan cuts in, still chuckling. “Yeah, yeah. And maybe after that, you two can work out all that weird tension between ya. It’s like watching a soap opera in here!”
Your cheeks heat up, and you shoot Stan a glare, but he just leans back, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable his comment made you feel. Dipper, on the other hand, looks like he wants to crawl under the table and disappear.
Trying to regain your composure, you grab a clean towel from the counter and toss it to Dipper. “Here, use this. And next time, try not to wear your drink.”
Dipper catches the towel, his expression softening slightly as he mumbles, “Thanks.”
You nod, turning to leave, but not before catching a glimpse of the small, appreciative smile he’s trying to hide.
As the evening continues, you find yourself busy with the usual rush of orders, but your mind keeps drifting back to the incident with Dipper. You can’t quite shake the image of his flustered expression or the way his eyes softened when he thanked you. It’s confusing and… uncomfortable? You couldn’t quite place a finger on it.
You glance over at the Pines family every now and then, noticing how Mabel happily slurps her confetti milkshake, chattering animatedly about a theater show she wants to see, while Stan devours his stack of pancakes. Dipper, on the other hand, seems quiet. He’s eating his burger, but his gaze occasionally flickers toward you, as if he’s lost in thought.
When the dinner rush finally starts to wind down, you take a moment to catch your breath, leaning against the counter. The atmosphere in the diner has mellowed out, with fewer customers and the soft hum of the radio becoming more apparent. You’re just about to head back to the kitchen when you notice Dipper standing up from the booth, his eyes scanning the diner before they land on you.
He hesitates, looking like he’s about to say something, but then he glances at Mabel and Stan, who are still engrossed in their meals. With a deep breath, Dipper makes his way over to you.
“Hey, (Y/n),” Dipper greets you, leaning against the counter. His hands are fidgeting with themselves. “So, have you heard the latest rumors about the missing kid?”
You raise an eyebrow. “You mean the one about the abducted children and the tiny red shoe they found at the latest crime scene?”
Dipper nods. “Yeah, that’s the one. I was actually going to check it out tonight. You know, see if I can figure out what’s really going on.” He pulls out a journal with the number three, flipping to a page. He flips it around and brings it up to your face. “You see, Ford and I took a sample from the scene and we think it has to do with this…”
You glance at the page in the journal, which features a cute drawing of a Victorian style doll with a pair of cartoonish eyes. “The doll: ‘Polly?’ What’s that supposed to be?”
Dipper leans in, his expression serious. “The story goes that Polly was once a beloved toy of a child who went missing years ago. Since then, she’s been wandering the town seeking lonely children to kidnap, hoping that one of them will love her.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And how exactly does she lure these kids?”
Dipper continues, his voice low. “It’s said that Polly’s presence is accompanied by a soft, haunting melody that only children can hear. She creates illusions of a warm, inviting home and plays with them until they trust her. Once they’re close enough, she tries to entice them to follow her and stay with her forever.” He clears his throat and notes quickly, “Though, Grunkle Ford never actually saw Polly. He only heard rumors and descriptions of her from other creatures he’s encounter.”
Scoffing, you place a hand on your hips and take a step back. You try to keep your tone casual, but a hint of sarcasm slips through. “Polly sounds like something straight out of a horror movie, Dipper. Who knows, maybe those monsters actually lied to Ford? Maybe she doesn’t even exist.”
Dipper’s voice raises in annoyance. He’s taken aback by your unbelief. “It might sound like a cliché, but the evidence we’ve found aligns with the description.” He points exaggerately at the image of the doll. “The missing children reports suggest something unusual is going on. If there’s even a chance that Polly is involved, we need to deal with it.”
You rolled your eyes, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Who’s we? You didn’t need me then, so why do you need me now?”
Your words carry a sharp edge, and Dipper flinches slightly, clearly catching the reference to that time he stood you and Mabel up for monster hunting with Grunkle Ford.
Dipper’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t back down. “I know I ditched you, but this is different. This is about doing what we can to protect people. Don’t you want to protect Gravity Falls?” He waves a hand around at your customers. Their happy faces pangs your heart.
“There is no we in this, Pines,” you snap, shaking your head as you let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to keep your irritation in check. “Look, I have enough on my plate as it is. I don’t want to get involved in another one of your mystery adventures.” You glance away, making your frustration obvious. “Why don’t you go ask Ford?”
Dipper shifts uncomfortably, his resolve wavering for just a moment before he steels himself. “Ford’s busy with his own stuff, and—look, I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve got a knack for handling these situations,” he insists, his voice firm but pleading. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could help.”
You scoff, crossing your arms and refusing to look at him. “Oh, so now you need me? Where was that when you ditched us for Ford last time?”
Dipper’s face tightens, but he doesn’t back down. “I messed up then, I get it. But this isn’t about the past. It’s about what’s happening right now. We’re dealing with something dangerous, and I need someone I can count on. I need you.”
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can see the sincerity in his eyes—the same eyes that had once dismissed your insecurities about your friendship as unpredictable and unnecessary. It’s infuriating how he can just flip the script when it suits him, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now that gives you pause.
You let out a heavy breath, still reluctant but sensing the gravity of the situation. “Fine,” you mutter, half-annoyed, half-concerned. “But don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you. And if we end up in another life-threatening situation, you’re on your own, got it?”
Dipper nods, his expression softening with relief. “Got it. And… thanks. I won’t let you down this time. I’ll meet you at the house where the last kid was abducted at midnight”
You roll your eyes, but the slight dip in your guard shows that maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to give him one last chance. You walk away from the counter, feeling the weight of the evening ahead pressing down on you. The clock’s hands tick around the circle, and midnight approaches with relentless inevitability. You’ve already wrapped up your shift at Greasy’s Diner, and now, at home, you’re preparing a backpack filled with adventuring tools: a flashlight, a multi-tool, and a first aid kit. You double-lace your shoes, mentally preparing for whatever challenges the night might bring. The last thing you want is to be caught unprepared.
You glance up at the wall clock; it reads 11:40 PM. A deep dread settles in the pit of your stomach. This was the last thing you wanted to be doing today. With a resigned sigh, you throw on a thick jacket, feeling its weight as a reminder of the cold night ahead. You flick off the lights and check to make sure everything is in order.
Your aunt and uncle, exhausted from the day, had fallen asleep hours earlier. Their snoring from the bedroom reassures you that they’re not likely to wake up anytime soon. You quietly slip out of the house, making sure the door is securely locked behind you.
Outside, the chill of the night air bites at your cheeks as you pull the hood of your jacket up and shove your hands deep into your pockets. The quiet of the neighborhood is both eerie and comforting. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the only sounds are the distant hum of late-night traffic and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.
You approach a rustic home made entirely of wood, from its walls to its rooftop. It’s wrapped with yellow tape from police officers, warning you to keep out of the crime scene. Beside the home is an old, beat-up vehicle parked in front of a small garage. The paint on the car is scratched and damaged, indicating it’s well-loved. On the small lawn was a pink plastic flamingo. A pair of sunglasses sat on top of it’s large beak.
You wait by the picket fence, hoping the neighbors won’t notice you loitering around. Glancing up at the stars, you notice they twinkle brightly, as if calling out to you.
Finally, Dipper arrives, huffing and puffing as he catches his breath. “You ready?”
You nod, pushing aside your lingering dread. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”
You follow him as he leads the way, your footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. Dipper ducks beneath the yellow tape, and then holds it higher to allow you to follow suit. The house is old and weather-beaten, with overgrown weeds encroaching on the yard. The dim light from a single streetlamp flickers erratically, casting eerie shadows.
Dipper stops near the front porch and pulls out a small flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness. “We’ll start by checking here. Polly might have left more then just a red shoe behind.” He cracks open the slightly ajar door, it creaks loudly, notifying you of his rusted hinges.
As you both begin your search, the air grows colder, and the silence becomes almost deafening. The occasional creak of the house seems unnaturally loud. You move cautiously, scanning the area for anything out of place.
You approach a pile of toys in the living room, noticing some are faded and worn, while others are oddly pristine. “Hey, Dipper!” You call out to him. As he approaches, you knelt down and pick up plastic toy horse. “It’s like they’ve been left here for a while.
Dipper crouches down and examines them more closely. “Polly might use them to lure children, making it seem like she’s offering friendship.”
Your eyes fall on a small, delicate music box among the toys. Its paint is chipped, but it’s still intact. “This music box could be important. Do you think it’s connected?”
Dipper picks up the music box, turning it over in his hands. “Maybe. The journal mentioned a haunting melody. If this is what Polly uses, it could help.” He tilts it to one side, noticing a handle sticking out of the container. The brown haired boy begins cranking it, slowly and firmly until a melody begins playing.
You and Dipper stand frozen, recognizing the song. The music box’s tune lingering in the air, its hauntingly beautiful melody now accompanied by a ghostly, girlish voice singing softly in your minds. The eerie lyrics resonate with an unsettling charm:
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, follow me, we won’t go far. In the woods where shadows play, come with me, we’ll laugh and sway.
Skip and hop, the night is bright, in the dark, we’ll find delight. Close your eyes, and hear the tune, magic whispers, come real soon.
Twinkle, twinkle, stay with me, in this land of mystery. Through the night, and past the trees, let’s discover what there’s to see.
A shiver runs down your spine, and you glance nervously at Dipper, your throat tightening as a thick lump of fear settles in. “D-Did you hear that?” you whisper, your voice trembling.
Dipper’s face pales as he nods slowly, his eyes wide with apprehension. “Yeah, I heard it. It’s like the song is trying to reach out to us.” He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. His expression is resolute. “Let’s follow the melody.”
You shake your head, vehemently disagreeing with the person you thought was bravely foolish. “Look,” you took a step back and put your hands palm facing towards him. “I’m done with whatever this is. Ghosts? Monsters? Fine. But haunted dolls? Absolutely not. You and your endless mystery adventures can take a hike.” You jab your thumb back toward the door, making it crystal clear that this isn’t your cup of tea.
Dipper’s eyes narrow, his face hardening with determination. “I get that you’re scared, but this isn’t the time to back out. We’ve already started, and if we don’t follow the melody, we might miss a chance to stop whatever Polly’s planning.”
You cross your arms, scowling. “You think you’re so brave, don’t you? Always jumping into the unknown without thinking things through. Maybe you’re used to getting yourself into these messes, but I’ve got my own limits.”
Dipper takes a step closer, his tone sharp. “This isn’t about being brave or foolish. It’s about saving children before they all die.”
You glare at him, frustration clouding your judgement, developing your words into something more raw, more painful. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it? The adventure. The thrill. You’ve never once stopped to think about how this affects the people around you.”
Dipper’s taken aback, his expression faltering for a split second before he quickly recovers. “That’s not true. I care about—”
“About what? About saving the day? About being the hero?” You cut him off, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. “But what about me, Dipper? What about the fact that every time you drag us into one of your mysteries, we’re the ones who have to pick up the mess? You don’t even care that I’m scared out of my mind right now.”
Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but no words come out. He looks at you, really looks at you, and for a moment, you think he might finally understand. But then he shakes his head, his eyes show a lack of emotion, of empathy. “I do care, but it’s not about what we want or how we feel. It’s about doing what’s right.”
Your heart sinks, the finality of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “Of course,” you say bitterly, turning away from him. “It’s always about solving the mystery.”
Dipper reaches out, as if he wants to say something more, but you step back, avoiding his touch. The silence between you is heavy, filled with everything that’s been left unsaid.
You clench your fists, feeling a mix of anger and something else you can’t quite name. “Fine. But don’t expect me to follow blindly. If we’re doing this, you better have a plan that doesn’t involve us ending up as Polly’s next victims.”
The boy swallows his words, and turns away. “No problem,” Dipper says sarcastically, waving a hand dismissively as he heads towards the back door, the music box in hand. “Follow me. I bet I know where this thing is leading us.”
You both trudge through the dark woods, your flashlights cutting through the shadows that dance ominously on the tree trunks. Dipper had tossed the music box to you, instructing you to wind it up repeatedly. Despite the incessant, irritating melody, there’s something oddly soothing about it, a small comfort amid the tension.
“So,” you call out, peering over Dipper’s shoulder, “where exactly are we headed?”
Dipper is focused on journal 3, which he’s holding with a purple flashlight. The light reveals hidden text, and a small drawing in the corner, depicting field of flowers and a tea party, surrounded by doodles of stars.
He glances at you. “We’re trying to find this.” He points to the vague, almost insignificant drawing. “The rumors claim that Polly in a clearing by a lake.”
“…and you know where this is… how?” you ask, skeptically.
“Intuition,” Dipper replies with a shrug, as if it’s obvious. “But mainly because the music box is guiding us. It’s like a beacon. Without it, we’d be stumbling around blindly.”
You pause in step. Your eyes widen in disbelief. “So, you’re telling me that if we wander around randomly in the forest, we’ll eventually find Polly?”
“That’s the plan!” Dipper grins, looking both confident and a bit foolish.
You scowl, feeling a mix of irritation and reluctant admiration. “Great. So we’re just hoping the music box is as good as you think it is. I suppose if we end up lost or worse, we can thank your ‘intuition’ for it.”
Dipper’s grin falters slightly, but he maintains his proud expression. “We’re in this together now. Just keep winding the music box. We’ll find our way.”
You mutter under your breath, but your grip on the music box tightens. Despite your irritation, you’re almost envious of his lack of doubt. As you both push deeper into the forest, the night seems to close in around you, the eerie melody from the music box being the only grounding normalcy.
Finally, you notice the peaks of flowers emerging from the ground, growing more abundant as you approach. Beyond them, a clearing beside a lake comes into view. Then, your eyes fell onto the tea party that was described in the book.
What catches you off guard is the sight of an elaborate setting, a scene that would ordinarily evoke quaint charm but now strikes you as profoundly unsettling. The long table, set with intricate lace tablecloths, is laden with porcelain teapots, delicate cups, and an array of pastries that seem untouched, as if waiting for guests who will never arrive.
Seated around the table are numerous stuffed animals, each dressed in pastel-colored dresses and suits that shimmer softly in the moonlight. They sport tiny hats and monocles, their glassy eyes reflecting the dim glow of the shining stars. The stuffed animals are arranged as if in the middle of an animated conversation, their poses frozen mid-action—a teddy bear holding a teacup; a bunny poised with a strawberry, glazed scone; a dog with a red bowtie sitting politely; and a duck in a dapper suit, all seemingly caught in a moment of eternal tea-time.
Pastel balloons are tied to the backs of the chairs, their soft, muted colors creating a deceptive air of festivity. The balloons sway gently with the breeze, casting playful shadows that flicker across the scene. The entire setup exudes an air of mock merriment.
However, the true horror reveals itself as you take in the sight of the missing children sitting in between each stuffed animal They are sprawled around the table in a disturbingly serene manner. Their bodies positioned as though they had simply fallen asleep amidst the party. Their heads hang limply to the side, faces expressionless, and their mouths slightly ajar. Not a single noise escaped them as their pale faces barely take in a breath of air. Their clothes, once vibrant with life, now look out of place amidst the cheerful pastel decor.
The air is heavy with an unsettling stillness, and the soft, haunting melody from the music box persists, filling the silence. The children’s passive forms etch themselves into your mind, a haunting image that you know will stay with you.
Your breath hitches. You take a step back, your foot crushing a delicate poppy. “I-I don’t think—” Panic surges up your throat, choking off your breath and words. The sight is overwhelming, and you struggle to process it.
Dipper turns around and looks at you. You can see the frustration in his expression, the way his jaw tightens as he glares at you. “Are you seriously going to bail now?” he snaps, his voice edged with impatience. “We’ve always gotten through everything because we stick together. And now you’re just going to walk away?”
His words cut through the fog of your fear, anchoring you to the present. You glance up at him, seeing the earnest resolve in his eyes. But the sight behind him—the children, so unnaturally still—won’t leave your mind. “Do you see that?! What could your plan possibly do against—” You gesture wildly at the scene, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. “That?!”
Dipper’s face hardens as he hears your hesitation, and there’s a flash of anger in his eyes. “You think I don’t get it? This is terrifying. But you’re the one person I thought I could count on, and you’re leaving on me when I need you the most?”
His words sting, and you can feel the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you. The sight of the children, so disturbingly still, tugs at your resolve. Your breath hitches again, the overwhelming situation pulling you in different directions.
“You think I don’t understand?” you counter, your voice shaking with fear and frustration. “This is too much! You’re acting like I’m just supposed to—”
Before you can finish, Dipper interrupts, his tone softer but still firm. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. I’ve said and done some things I shouldn’t have. But right now, we need each other.” He ends, confidently.
It’s so dismissive that it leaves you wide eyed in disbelief. He actually doesn’t care about you.
With a heavy sigh, you finally relent. “Okay, okay,” Feeling the weight of the situation and his words, you place two hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever. I’ll stay.”
Dipper’s face softens slightly, though the tension remains. Without another word, he begins walking up to the clearing. The faint glow of his flashlight dances ahead, casting flickering shadows on the walls. You follow closely behind.
As you approach the long table, your eyes are drawn to a striking figure perched at the head of the table. There, on top of a tall, ornate stool, sits a stunning Victorian doll, commanding the center of attention. Her golden blonde curls are meticulously arranged, cascading down her back. Atop her head is a baby pink bonnet with an elaborate lace trim, secured with matching ribbons that flutter gently in the breeze, as if beckoning you closer.
The gown is a soft pastel shade—baby pink—adding to its ethereal charm. The bodice of the dress is fitted, accentuating the doll's delicate form, and features a high lace, white collar that frames her porcelain neck with intricate patterns. At the center was a bright blue broach.
The skirt of the dress featured multiple layers of fabric. The top layer of the skirt is adorned with delicate lace trim, which falls in soft, scalloped edges, and is decorated with tiny rosettes. The hem of the skirt is finished with a delicate lace ruffle, giving it a dreamy, almost fairytale quality.
On her feet were a pair of lace socks. One foot had an accompanying red shoe. The other was missing it.
You look at Dipper, who is also frozen, his eyes wide with uncertainty. Before he can speak, a loud, shrill voice interrupts.
“Uninvited guests!” The voice echoes through the clearing, causing both of you to jump.
Your gaze snaps to the source of the voice. You scan the attendees—stuffed animals and the motionless children—before your eyes settle on the doll. Her beautiful porcelain face, pale and delicate, displays two rosy cheeks and a soft, closed smile. Her eyes are shut tight, but a chill runs down your spine as you wonder—did she just... speak?
The voice carries a singsong quality as it continues. “Welcome to my party, but you’re terribly late! The fun is about to begin, and I do hate to wait.” The doll’s arm raises slightly, her hand perpetually open. Though she cannot truly point, the gesture directs your attention toward two chairs set at the far end of the table. These chairs, ornately decorated, are clearly intended for the guests of honor—chairs that seem to beckon with a chilling invitation.
The air grows colder, and the haunting melody from the music box had long since muted in place. The doll’s gaze remains fixed ahead, her closed eyes concealing whatever dark intentions lie behind them.
“You’re just in time for tea,” the doll continues, “So come and sit, don’t let it be.”
Dipper shifts his weight from one foot to another. He glances at you, and then says. “O-Oh um, we’re not here—”
You interrupt him, your voice laced with urgency. “Sure! Don’t mind if we do!” You grab his arm and yank him along, leaning in close to his ear. One hand shields his ear from the doll’s sight as you whisper harshly, “We have to play along. Don’t make it angry, Dipper. The last thing we need is for that thing to think we’re party crashers.”
Dipper’s eyes widen in realization, and he nods vigorously. “Okay. Sure. That sounds good.” He gives three uncertain confirmations.
You both approach the ornate chairs at the head of the table, their plush, pastel-colored cushions inviting and deceptively comforting. As you sit, the cushions mold around you, cradling your weight with a softness that feels almost too soothing, as if coaxing you to relax.
The doll’s face remains fixed in its serene smile, her closed eyes seemingly gleaming with satisfaction. Her hand drops back down to her side, and instead, a white teapot adorned with pink bows rises from the table, hovering gently in the air.
With a whimsical lilt in her voice, the doll says, “I do hope you’re hungry, for tea and cake we’ve got. But before we begin, a little joke—don’t you think that’s a lot?”
She pauses, as if waiting for a response, then continues with a playful tone, “Why did the teacup frown and pout? It lost its sugar and cream, without a doubt!”
The eerie laughter that follows is almost mechanical, as if it’s been rehearsed. The stuffed animals begin to jiggle and bounce in their seats. It’s as if the stuffed animals are performing a grim, choreographed routine, their movements and laughter meticulously timed. Their glassy eyes seem to twinkle with an artificial delight, their stitched smiles stretching wider as they moved merrily.
You exchange a tense glance with Dipper, the bizarre nature of the scene amplifying your unease. You offer a stiff chuckle, which Dipper mirrors, attempting to blend in with the strange atmosphere.
Instantly, the laughter ceases, as if it were a switch that had been flipped. The sudden silence is nerve-racking, making your stiffened smile feel even more out of place.
The teapot glides across the table, its movements smooth and deliberate. It pauses in front of your and Dipper’s tea cups, the spout extending as it begins to pour a dark liquid. The steam curling from the cups carries a faintly burnt scent, mingling with the underlying bitterness.
The teapot sets itself down softly onto a lace doily, the porcelain clinking gently. You observe the tea as it settles in the cups, the dark liquid swirling slightly with the motion.
Her mechanical, yet oddly enchanting voice chimes in. “Would you like some milk or sugar in your tea? Or perhaps both, to make it sweet and neat?” Her eyes remains closed, her head was set straight, neither looking or tilting to observe the both of you.
The jar of sugar cubes and the small pitcher filled with milk lift gracefully into the air, floating over toward you with an almost magical precision. The doll’s eyes remain closed, but her posture is expectant, as if eagerly awaiting your choice.
Dipper glances at the hovering items, then at the doll. “Um… neither?” he says hesitantly. The doll’s serene smile twitches at the edges, her head tilting slightly to the side in a manner that seems almost disappointed.
A moment passes. One long moment.
You can almost feel the shift in atmosphere, a cold weight settling over you as you realize the doll’s displeasure. To avoid any further ire, you swallow hard and stammer, “S-Sugar… please.” You quickly add, “Thank you,” hoping to placate the doll and salvage the situation.
Polly’s smile smoothly returns to its original, serene curve. She straightens her head back to its normal position, her posture relaxing as if satisfied with your response.
"How many sugar cubes shall I add?" Polly inquires, her shrill voice directs its attention towards you. "Just one? Or two? Or perhaps more—make sure to choose with care, for sweetness brings delight or despair."
Her hand, though rigid and fixed, seems to gesture towards the jar of sugar cubes with an almost imperceptible twitch, as if hinting at the gravity of your decision. She giggles, enjoying her jokes.
“T-Two is fine,” you squeak out, your voice trembling with fear.
Two sugar cubes, lifted by a silver spoon, float gracefully from the jar and tumble into your tea, where they dissolve into the dark liquid with a soft hiss. The milk and sugar set themselves back on their respective lace doilies with a gentle flutter.
An oppressive silence falls over the clearing. The stars above shine brightly, but their light only amplifies the eerie stillness of the field—no insects buzz, no rustling from hidden creatures. Just an unsettling quiet.
“Drink,” Polly demands, her voice now stripped of its rhyming whimsy. The sudden shift in tone sends a chill down your spine. Your gaze flits between Dipper, the doll, and your cup of tea, the weight of Polly’s command pressing down on you as you reluctantly prepare to sip.
As you lift the cup to your lips, your hand trembling, Dipper suddenly springs to his feet.
“Actually um,” Dipper begins, his voice slightly wavering but attempting to sound confident, “we’re not here to play. We wanted to ask you a question.” He glances over at you, visibly relieved that the focus has shifted off the tea, but his satisfaction quickly fades as he sees the dread in your eyes.
Polly’s eyes suddenly snap open. They are a startlingly bright blue, the same shade as the broach on her dress. Her gaze locks onto Dipper, the intensity of her stare making you squirm.
Polly's grin remains fixed, her lips curling slightly as she begins to speak in a sing-song.
“Questions and answers, the game we play, but you must sip your tea before you sway. Ask away if you dare to pry, but remember, there’s no going back once you try.”
Her eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as she continues.
“Words have power, as you’ll soon see, one sip and you’ll uncover what’s meant to be. But if you refuse, there’s a price to pay, and the answers you seek may slip away.”
Dipper swallows hard, his resolve wavering under Polly’s relentless gaze. “We’re just trying to find out what happened to the missing kids. Can you help us?”
Polly’s smile widens, her eyes never leaving Dipper. “Ah, the missing ones, so close to our hearts, But to learn their fate, the tea must start. Sip and reveal what lies beneath, or face the consequences of your disbelief.”
“Dipper!” You lean over your chair, grabbing at his vest with a tight grip. The fabric bunches up in your hand as you tug him closer. “We have to play along,” you insist, your voice a low, urgent hiss. The frustration in your tone seems to only aggravate him further, and he shakes off your hand with a scowl.
“No way!” he hisses back, his voice laced with panic. “We don’t know what’s in that thing!”
You turn your attention back to the tea cup, its dark liquid swirling ominously. The fear of what’s inside is unnerves you, but drinking it is the only way to get Polly to cooperate. With a determined breath, you lift the cup and lock eyes with Polly, who’s watching you intently. “If I drink this, will you cooperate with us?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady despite the lump in your throat.
Polly’s eyes lock onto yours with an unnerving intensity as she considers your offer. The eerie, porcelain doll remains perfectly still, her unsettling smile never wavering.
“Ah, a brave soul, how rare to see,” she begins, her voice lilting in a rhythmic, almost melodic tone. “A sip from the cup, and questions shall be free.”
You breath out, almost sighing. With a final, resolute glance at Dipper, who watches with anxiety, you lift the cup to your lips. The liquid inside is dark and opaque, its aroma bitter and uninviting. Polly’s gaze follows every movement with a sinister patience.
You take a long sip of the black tea. The liquid is shockingly hot and has a taste that is both earthy and bitter, lingering on your tongue. You swallow, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.
Polly remains fixed on you, her eyes unblinking and intensely focused. Her smile doesn’t waver as you put the cup back down on the table
“Well done,” the doll tilts its head, pleased by your action. “You’ve proven you’re willing to play. Now, tell me what you seek, and I’ll give you a chance to speak.”
You opened your mouth and began, “How do we convince you to give us the missing children?”
The Victorian doll stands up her short legs seems to balance her on top of the stool. “Tell me why you seek to save the children from their dream. For here with me, they are content and serene. They dream of love, their hearts entwined, with parents and loved ones, all perfectly aligned.”
“Because,” you stood up as well, uncomfortable with how indominable she appeared. “They need to return to their actual parents who miss them!”
Polly’s eyes, now bright and gleaming, open wider. Her voice, though sweet, carries a hint of sorrow. “But you see,” she replies in a sing-song tone, “Their parents left them lonely, left them on their own. Deprived of the love and the attention they craved, so I whisked them away to a world they’d be saved.”
It was impossible to argue with her, you realized. She saw herself as an angel of saving grace for the lonely children of Gravity Falls. Nothing was going to change that. “What… will happen to them if they stay with you…?” You pause between each word as your voice grew into a dim whisper.
Polly’s porcelain smile remains, but her voice turns colder. “If they stay with me, dear, they’ll slumber here, sweet and dear. Their bodies will wither, and their spirits will fade, while I keep them close in the shade.” A chill runs down your spine as Polly’s words become clearer. Her serene face seems almost mocking as she continues. “They’ll dream of a world where they’re never alone, but time will pass and their bodies will moan. When their forms decay and their lives come to end, I’ll gently lay them where the waters blend.”
You and Dipper exchange worried glances as you take in the sight of the lake behind Polly. The realization hits you: beneath that calm surface, the lake likely holds the bodies of missing children of the past. A cold shiver runs down your spine. What has Dipper dragged you into?
Dipper seems to be formulating a plan, his eyes darting around the scene. He turns to you, urgency in his voice. “I need you to distract her while I find a way to defeat Polly. Can you do that?”
You stare at him, disbelief etched across your face. “Distract her?! How could I possibly—”
Before you can finish, Dipper suddenly tips over his teacup, sending its contents spilling onto the grass. The handle of the delicate cup cracks off and clatters to the ground. “Oops!” he exclaims with exaggerated nonchalance. “Can you handle that for me, (Y/n)?”
Your jaw drops as Dipper swiftly ducks beneath the table, vanishing from Polly's sight. The doll's gaze remains fixated on the spilled tea, her smile widening into an unsettling crescent. She murmurs something under her breath.
“Haha, w-what was that?” you stammer, taking an uncertain step away from the table.
Despite her facial muscles being unable to move, you can sense her eyes narrowing with displeasure.
Trying to buy time, you feign a cheerful demeanor. “Oh, Polly! Look at that mess! Isn’t it just the most amusing accident?” You wave your arms dramatically, hoping to divert her attention as Dipper figures out how to defeat her.
Polly finally responds after a pause. Her head snapping up to stare at you. “Oh, such a clumsy little thing, Making spills and causing a fling! But entertain me if you please, before I chase you to the trees!”
She begins to rise from her chair, her movements smooth yet unnervingly quick. You back away nervously, trying to keep her attention focused on you as she starts to follow you around the table and towards the lake.
With each step you take, Polly’s laughter rings out, a chilling melody that echoes across the clearing. She floats with an almost unnatural grace, her gaze fixed on you as you weave through the field, her intentions clear.
As you lead Polly in a wild chase, your heart pounds with anxiety. You approach the lake and then turn around to face her, you glance behind you into the murky depths below. Well, it seems like you have no where else to run. Just when you think you might be cornered, you see Dipper darting from beneath the table, clutching Polly’s red shoe and the music box.
He skids to a halt near the edge of the clearing, holding up the shoe and the box. “Polly!” he shouts, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and determination. “Your shoe is a key to this whole mess! And the music box—let’s see if it can bring your little party to an end!”
He quickly turns the handle on the music box and starts to play the haunting melody. The sound fills the air, and it appears as though the stars are drawing closer. Polly’s expression shifts from curiosity to agitation as she stops in her tracks, her eyes widening.
“You think a tune will save your day?” she shrieks, her voice cracking with frustration. “It’s not enough to keep me at bay!”
But Dipper’s plan is already in motion. And he yells, “(Y/N)! Get her!”
Realization sets in and your body moves before you’re ready. You lunge forward and grip the head of the doll pulling it towards you into an unyielding chokehold.
“What’s next?!” You gruff out, trying to keep a firm hold of the protesting doll as it tries to squirm out of your grasp.
He runs to you and holds up Polly’s red shoe, revealing a hidden compartment inside. He pulls out a shimmering, ornate key and waves it in front of her. “This key.” He announces triumphantly, “If you wind it into the keyhole in her back, she’ll stop moving as the spirit trapped inside will finally release.”
He quickly hands you the key, his hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline. You manage to pry open Polly’s back, revealing a small, ornate keyhole hidden beneath her delicate dress. With a deep breath, you carefully insert the key and start turning it.
As you wind the key, Polly’s movements become more sluggish. Her eyes, once wide with rage, begin to lose their focus, her form flickering as if struggling to maintain its shape.
“Keep going!” Dipper urges, his voice barely audible over the fading music. “You’re doing great!”
With each turn of the key, Polly’s protests grow weaker. Her once-terrifying grin softens, and her movements become more erratic. Finally, with a final, decisive click, the key reaches its limit. Polly’s body suddenly goes limp in your arms, her disturbing blue eyes still wide open.
A profound silence falls over the clearing as Polly begins to disintegrate into ash, leaving only her head behind. You and Dipper release the creepy objects, allowing it to gently fall into the grass.
Dipper steps forward, his face displays relief and exhaustion. “We did it,” he says, his voice filled with weary satisfaction. “Let’s get out of here before anything else happens.” He starts to walk away, his focus on the path ahead.
A moment passes.
When he notices the silence stretching longer than expected and doesn’t hear your footsteps following, he stops and turns around. His eyes search for you, and his heart skips a beat when he finally spots you standing still near the remnants of the broken tea party.
“(Y/n)…?” Dipper calls out, his voice tinged with concern.
You stand there, unmoving, a vacant expression on your face. Your eyes, usually full of life, are now glazed over, and a sinister smile curls your lips. Dipper’s stomach drops as he takes in the sight.
“You’re—” he begins, but his voice falters. The realization hits him like a cold wave. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”
He rushes back to your side, shaking you gently. “(Y/n), can you hear me? Snap out of it!”
But the smile on your face remains unnaturally wide, and your eyes stay fixed in a haunting stare. “Welcome to the party,” you say in a voice that’s not quite your own, echoing Polly’s eerie tone. “You’re the next guest of honor.”
Dipper’s heart races as he searches for a solution. He frantically looks around, his mind racing through every clue and piece of information he has. “No, this isn’t right,” he mutters to himself. “There has to be something…”
His gaze lands on the remnants of the doll and the now-silent music box. The realization strikes him again—Polly’s spirit might have latched onto you in a final act of revenge.
“Okay, think!” Dipper says, more to himself than anyone. “The key worked for Polly, so maybe there’s something left we can use.”
He runs away to frantically searches through the debris, his hands moving with urgency. As he works, he remembers the music box and its intricate mechanisms. With a desperate hope, he pries open the music box, hoping to find something that might help.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking with guilt. “I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve—”
Walking slowly, deliberately towards the boy, you observe him carefully. Your voice is distorted as you respond in a manner that drew from the neglected depression caused by Dipper. “Left behind, I’ve grown so cold, now with this doll, my heart’s been sold.” You shake your head, trying to separate the sing-song voice from your own. “I told you, Dipper. I’m not a tool you can use whenever it’s convenient.” It’s barely above a whisper.
He finally looks at you. Really looks at you. The dawning realization hits him like a cold wave crashing over him. He understands now: this was all his doing. The doll had called out to lonely children, those who felt abandoned and neglected. It wasn’t just a matter of curiosity or adventure; it was a matter of deep, personal connection. The spirit that inhabited the doll had latched onto it because of its own loneliness when its original owner vanished. And now, that same spirit has attached itself to you.
Dipper’s heart races as he confronts the gravity of the situation. He stands, his palms slick with sweat, and he wipes them nervously against his vest. His eyes are filled with a mixture regret and desperation. “(Y/n),” he begins, his voice trembling slightly, “I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize... I didn’t see how my actions would lead to this. I thought I was just solving a mystery…”
You fail to reply, your expression a mask of hollow understanding. You tilt your head slightly, as if considering his words but not truly grasping them. The eerie calmness in your demeanor sends a shiver down Dipper’s spine. His hands tremble as he reaches out to you, the weight of his guilt and fear heavy in his heart.
With a deep breath, Dipper envelops you in a hug. You’re stiff against his body, and he’s stiffly hugging you back. His hands are placed awkwardly on your back, as if he’s unsure of where to place them. You can feel his heartbeat accelerating, each thud resonating with the frantic urgency in his chest. His face is flushed red, and the tips of his ears are crimson, revealing the depth of his feelings for you.
Yet, Dipper shrugs past his shyness and confronts you. His voice softens, and you can see the struggle in his eyes as he continues. “Look,” he says, his tone more earnest than before, “I know I can be a pain sometimes, and I know I’ve always let you down. I even say things that I regret. But… I…” He hesitates, taking a deep breath as if gathering the courage to finally say what’s been on his mind. “I’m sorry for calling you unpredictable. I’m sorry for calling your feelings unnecessary. I’m sorry for only seeking you out when it’s convenient for me.”
He pulls away slightly to look at you with sincerity, his voice almost breaking as he continues. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter, like your thoughts and feelings were less important than mine. I got so wrapped up in the mysteries and trying to prove myself that I forgot how much you’ve been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”
He squeezes your body, a silent plea for you to believe him. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re just another part of the adventure. You’re more than that. You’re… important to me, in ways that go beyond all this craziness. I need you here, not just because of what we’re facing, but because… I need you.”
You struggle against the spirit's influence, your mind a battleground of despair and defiance. The doll’s voice echoes in your head, a cruel reminder of your loneliness and Dipper’s perceived neglect. You fight to hold onto your own thoughts, pushing back against the overwhelming darkness.
“I need you. We have a ton of bizarre mysteries to solve, and… well, I’m gonna need your expert opinion on the best milkshake flavors at Greasy’s Diner. And believe me, that's a crucial job.” He lets a hand go to cup your face gently. His thumb brushing against a tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. “So, how about it? Stay with me and I promise to bring you the most ridiculous milkshake combinations we can think of. Deal?”
With a surge of willpower, you manage to break through the spirit’s hold. You feel the pressure in your mind lift, the cold grip loosening as you regain control. A final burst of energy helps you push the spirit out, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving.
As the last remnants of the spirit dissipate, you collapse into Dipper’s embrace. You both fall, tumbling onto the fluffy grass. Your arms tremble slightly, and your breathing is ragged. Slowly, you wrap your arms around him, the hug coming out as an awkward yet sincere gesture. Dipper’s arms tighten around you, his grip warm and reassuring.
“Seriously?” You murmur into his shoulder, your voice still shaky. “I’m never messing with the supernatural again, Dipping Sauce.”
Dipper chuckles into your arms, his eyes softening with relief. He’s still flushed, but there’s a tender, grateful smile on his face. “Yeah… me either.” His voice filled with earnest emotion. “At least, not alone. Not without you.” He pauses. “And you’re important. More than you know.”
The two of you stayed lying in the grass under the stars for a while longer, the night air cool and calm. His embrace was comforting in comparison to the terror you just went through. Eventually, without saying a word, you both silently agreed it was time to head back to civilization.
The walk to your house was peaceful, Dipper’s hand gripping yours tightly, as if reassuring himself you were still there beside him.
When you reached your doorstep, you turned to him with a soft smile. “See you in the morning, Dipper,” you said, leaning in to place a quick kiss on his cheek.
His face lit up in a deep blush as he instinctively covered the spot where your lips had touched. “Y-Yeah, see you tomorrow, (Y/n),” he stammered, coughing awkwardly to hide his embarrassment.
You chuckled, finding his shy reaction utterly endearing. Turning to head inside, you were almost through the door when you heard his voice again.
“(Y/n)?”
You paused, hand still on the doorknob, turning just enough to see him standing there, his eyes earnest and filled with something unspoken. “What is it, Dipper?”
He hesitated for a moment before giving you a sheepish grin. “You think we could meet up at Greasy’s tomorrow? I’ve been working on this idea for the coolest milkshake ever, but… well, you’re the milkshake master, so…”
Your heart warmed at the thought, and you smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you ruining my reputation with a bad milkshake experiment.”
He laughed, the tension easing between you. “Deal. Let’s create the best milkshake Gravity Falls has ever seen.”
With one last grin, you gave him a wave and stepped inside. But then, he says something else.
“(Y/n)?”
You full turn around this time and face him. “Dipper?”
Dipper stared at you for a long moment, his eyes distant, as if lost in thought. You could see the wheels turning in his head, like he was on the verge of saying something more. But then, he shook his head gently, a small, almost defeated smile tugging at his lips.
"Nothing. Good night, (Y/n)," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You paused, sensing there was something deeper lingering just beneath the surface. Part of you wanted to urge him to speak, to let out whatever was weighing on him. But for now, you let it be, trusting that whatever it was, Dipper would tell you when he was ready.
"Good night, Dipper," you said warmly before turning and slipping into your home, leaving him standing on the porch.
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