#varys x reader

[k4marina]

— iii. Stormborn || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: as plans to conqour westeros begin, daenerys and i are met with an unknown visitor

warnings: got cannon violence, war, battle nothing super graphic. this chapter follows the storylime of Stormborn (S7 Ep2) so spoiler warning ig

a/n: all dialogue italicized is in Valyrian & important note at the end!!

series masterlist || next part

4.9k word count

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

“Your Grace summons you to the Painted Table.” The servant had said after I had gotten back to my room from my morning training. Daenerys had gotten busier in the last few weeks as she planned ahead for the upcoming war. 

I found her standing by the fireplace with her back turned towards me and the table that was in the shape of the Seven Kingdoms. A few figurines of different houses of Westeros were laid out in their appropriate places. 

“You called?” 

She takes a moment to turn, collecting her thoughts. 

“In a few days Olenna Tyrell, Ellaria Sand, and Yara Greyjoy will be here to pledge their allegiance to me and further discuss our plans to take the Iron Throne.” She rounded the table, walking closer to me. “But before they arrive is there anything I must know?”

I furrowed my brows, thinking back or ahead in the future? Nonetheless, I wracked my brain for anything that would be useful. 

“Oh,” I remembered. “An ambush. There’s going to be an ambush.” 

A flash of concern comes across her face. “Who?” 

“Euron Greyjoy. After your meeting you ordered Yara to escort Ellaria and their troops to Sunspear. But along the way Euron ambushes them.” The whole ordeal was hard to read. Daenerys’ campaign was going so well until that point. 

“It was catastrophic. So many died and so many ships destroyed they were still finding wreckage when I was born.” I turned towards the map, thinking back to where we were told the ambush had taken place. 

 “Here. 50 miles north of Sharp Point in Blackwater Bay.” I pointed out. “That’s where they were ambushed.” 

“The damage?”

“Significant. Euron, Yara’s uncle, takes her and Ellaria Sand and her daughter as hostages for Cersie and imprisons them in King's Landing. And, his ships are equipped with Scorpions.” 

She takes in a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. Her eyes look down at where I’ve pointed just a moment ago, weighing her options and thinking of a new plan. 

“So what do we do?” 

I smile. “I have a plan.”

—

Rain had been pouring down for the past three days and it showed no signs of letting up all while the entire castle prepared for the arrival of Houses Greyjoy, Martel, and Tyrell. I sighed, walking away from the floor to ceiling windows of the library and back to the roundtable full of books. With the rain getting heavier Grey Worm had decided to postpone my lessons which left me in the library of the castle, hunched over a mountain of books.

“Not very fond of the rain?” Missandei asks from the table, peering over a book. “I am. Just not very fond of the dreariness of it.” I reply, sitting down across from her. “It’s interesting how something as simple as the weather can change a person's entire mood.” 

She nodded, setting the book aside. “In Essos it barely rained. Whenever it did, the sky would be clear and the temperature hot. Here, the rain is so…” 

“Heavy.” I finished off. “Whenever the weather gets like this all I want to do is sleep.” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Missandei beams. “I just want to curl up under the hearth with a cup of tea and a good book.” 

I laughed, “after all the reading I’ve done, it’s the last thing I’d want to do when I’m relaxing.” 

We both shared a laugh before falling into a pregnant pause. I could tell that she was still apprehensive about me. When she came to me this morning, asking to join me in the library, I was shocked. Out of council meetings and occasionally bumping into each other we had barely talked. 

“You don’t trust me,” I said. 

She watched my expression as she replied. “Can you blame me?” 

I shook my head. “No, I’m glad that you are, though. I’d be more concerned if you’d blindly trust me. Especially with my.. sudden appearance.”

Out of everyone in Daenerys’ council I knew from the start that Missandei would be the hardest to build a relationship with. She’d been with Dany for years. She’d seen her at her lowest and highest. Which is why she would be one of my most important allies, other than Daenerys. 

“You also don’t trust us,” Missandei says. 

“Wrong,” I correct. “I trust Daenerys. You. Grey Worm, and Tyrion.” 

“Not Lord Varys?” She asks. 

“No. Varys is… different, in a lot of ways.” I needed to tread carefully. I couldn’t just outwardly say that he would betray Daenerys and be the reason why Misssandei would die. But, I could sew in the seeds of doubt. 

“He’s.. somewhat unpredictable.” I pursed my lips. “His origin and journey is admirable, don’t get me wrong. It’s just his methods and means and history that are a bit questionable.” 

Everyone knows that Varys has his “little birds” but they don’t know the truth behind them. Missandei didn’t say much after that, letting my words sit in her mind for the rest of the day. I knew what I had said had left her stumped and that she would tell Daenerys of our conversation. I just hoped that the seed had been planted deep enough. 

—

The storm had raged on into the night. I was getting ready to turn into the night when a servant informed me of a small council meeting at the Painted Table. Quickly, I made my way over, seeing that everyone else was already there. 

“I hope I’m not late.” I say to no one in particular. Missandei and Grey Worm give me a few nods while Tyrion and Varys watch Daenerys who had her back towards us, deep in thought. 

“On a night like this, you were born,” Tyrion remarks. 

“I remember that storm. All the dogs in King’s Landing howled through the night.” Varys adds.

“I wish I could remember it.” Daenerys says, finally turning around. Her face was somewhat stoic as she walked over to the table. “I always thought this would be a homecoming, this doesn't feel like home.”

She’s upset, I noted. Did Missandei and I’s conversation work?

“We won’t stay at Dragonstone for long.” Tyrion reassures. 

“Good.” She says, looking at the figurine on the table. “Not many lions.”

“Cersie controls fewer than half of the Seven Kingdoms. The lords of Westeros despise her. Even before your arrival, they plotted against her. Now…” Varys says. I don’t know why but the tone of his voice makes me want to jump into the sea.

“They cry out for their true queen? They drink secret toasts to my health?” Daenerys walks closer to Varys, almost as if she were sizing him up. “People used to tell my brother that sort of thing, and he was stupid enough to believe them.”

Everyone in the room watches carefully as she picks up a dragon figurine from the table. “If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back he’d have invaded King’s Landing already.” 

“Conquering Westeros would be easy for you. But you’re not here to be the queen of the ashes.” Tyrion interjects. 

“No,” Daenerys puts down the dragon figure. 

“We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse,” I say. “We already have three great houses supporting your claim.” 

“I agree,” Tyrion nods my way. “With the Tyrell army and the Dornish on our side, we have powerful allies in the south.” 

Daenerys looks at Varys. “I never properly thanked you for that.” Though, her voice lacked any bit of gratitude. 

“They joined our side, my queen, because they believe in you.” Vays says.

“You served my father, didn’t you, Lord Varys?”

“I did,” He replies. 

“And then you served the man who overthrew him?” Her tone shifted. 

“I had a choice, Your Grace– serve Robert Baratheon or face the headsman's axe.” Varys says defensively.

“But you didn’t serve him long. You turned against him.”

“Robert was an improvement on your father, to be sure. There have been few rulers in history as cruel as the Mad King. Robert was neither mad nor cruel. He simply had no interest in being king.” Varys countered. 

“So you took it upon yourself to find yourself a better one.” She pressed further. 

Tyrion, feeling the tension in the room, comes to Varys’ defense. “Your Grace,” Daenerys turns towards Tyrion. “When I was ready to drink myself into a small coffin, Lord Varys told me about a queen in the east who–” 

“Before I came to power,” Daenerys turned back to Varys, “you favored my brother. All your spies, your little birds, did they tell you Viserys was cruel, stupid, and weak? Would those qualities have made for a good king in your learned opinion?”

“Until your marriage to Khal Drogo, Your Grace. I knew nothing about you, save your existence and that you were said to be beautiful.” Varys deflects. Daenerys looks past and towards me. 

“Are you sure?” I hummed, catching everyone’s attention. Varys’ face hardened and he glared towards me. “Because from what I remember, you’ve always known about Daenerys.” 

I stepped forward, standing behind Daenerys. “Matter of fact, you were the one who planned Daenerys’ marriage to Khal Drogo with Illyrio.”

Varys opened his mouth to speak, but Daenerys beat him to it. 

“You and your friends traded me like a prized horse to the Dothraki.” 

“Which you turned to your advantage.” He was starting to panic. It was clear the Varys didn’t like to have his back against the wall. 

“Who gave the order to kill me?” 

“King Robert.” He replies quickly. 

“Who hired the assassins?” She steps closer to Varys. “Who sent word to Essos to murder Daenerys Targaryen?” 

“Your Grace,” you could hear panic set in his voice. “I did what had to be done–”

“To keep yourself alive.” Daenerys says firmly. 

“Lord Varys has proven himself a loyal servant.” Tyrion says, trying to calm the situation. 

“Proven himself loyal?” I scoffed. 

“Quite the opposite.” Daenerys, turned towards her hand. “If he dislikes one monarch. He conspires to crown the next one. What kind of a servant is that?”

“The kind the realm needs.” Varys says firmly. “Incompetence should not be rewarded with blind loyalty. As long as I have my eyes, I’ll use them. I wasn’t born into a great house. I come from nothing. I was sold as a slave and carved up as an offering. When I was a child, I lived in alleys, gutters, abandoned houses. You wish to know where my true loyalties lie? Not with any king or queen, but with the people. The people who suffer under despots and prosper under just rule. The people whose hearts you aim to win. If you demand blind allegiance, I respect your wishes. Grey Worm can behead me or your dragons can devour me. But if you let me live, I will serve you well. I will dedicate myself to seeing you on the Iron Throne because I choose you. Because I know the people have no better chance than you.”

Silence lingers in the air as Varys’ words settle into the room. The rest watched the three of us carefully, holding their breaths. 

“Swear this to me, Varys.” Daenerys’ voice is calm, and no longer holds any edge. “If you ever think I’m failing the people, you won’t conspire behind my back. You’ll look me in the eye as you have done today, and you’ll tell me how I’m failing them.” 

Feeling satisfied that he’s in the clear, Varys stands straight. “I swear it, my queen.” 

“And I swear this– if you even betray me, I’ll burn you alive.” She quickly warns. 

Varys smiles. “I would expect nothing less from the Mother of Dragons.” 

Amidst back and forth a servant had entered the room, informing Grey Worm of a visitor. 

“Forgive me, my queen. A red priestess from As’shai has some to see you.” 

––––

The doors to the throne room open, revealing a woman in red standing alone. She had red hair and dark red-ish eyes. Could this be?

The woman bows, her eyes linger on me before addressing Daenerys in Valyrian. “Queen Daeneys, I was a slave once, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honor to meet the Breaker of Chains.” 

“The Red Priests helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcome here. What is your name?” Daenerys replies. 

“I am called Melisandre.” 

“She once served another who wanted the Iron Throne.” Varys says from behind us. “It didn’t end well for Stannis Baratheon, did it?”

“No, it didn’t” Melisandre replies with no emotions. 

Not only did it not end well for Stannis, but it also didn’t end well for his daughter who he burned alive under Melisandre’s orders, but if you ask her it was the “Lords” doing. 

“You chose an auspicious day to arrive at Dragonstone.” Daenerys turns to look at Varys. “We’ve decided to pardon those who served the wrong king.” 

Varys doesn’t reply and just bows his head, thankful that Daenerys hadn’t fed him to Drogon. 

Daenerys turns back to Melisandre. “The Lord of Light doesn’t have many followers in Westeros, does he?” 

“Not yet. But even those who don't worship the Lord can serve his cause.” 

“What does your Lord expect from me?” Daenerys questions. 

“The Long Night is coming. Only the prince who was promised can bring the dawn.”

I sucked in a breath through my nose. We were getting closer to Jon’s arrival and everything else that would follow suit. 

“The prince who was promised will bring the dawn.” Daenerys repeats. “I'm afraid I'm not a prince.”  

“Your Grace, forgive me, but your translation is not quite accurate.” Missandei corrects from the side. “That noun has no gender in High Valyrian, so the proper translation for that prophecy would be the prince or princess who was promised will bring the dawn.”

“Doesn’t really roll off the tongue, does it?” Tyrion comments. 

“No, but I like it better.” Daenerys turns back to Melisandre. “And you believe this prophecy refers to me?” 

“Prophecies are dangerous things. I believe you have a role to play, as does another. The King in the North, Jon Snow.” Melisandre explains.

“Jon Snow?” Tyrion says, shocked. “Ned Stark's bastard?” 

“You know him?” Daenerys asks. 

Tyrion nods. “I traveled with him to the Wall when he joined the Night's Watch.” 

“And why do you think the Lord of Light singled out this Jon Snow aside from the visions you’ve seen in the flames, that is?” Varys inquired. 

“As Lord Commander of the Night's Watch he allowed the Wildlings south of the Wall to protect them from great danger. As King in the North he has united those Wildlings with the northern houses so together they may face their common enemy.” 

Even after hundreds of years after the events of this time, Jon’s heroism is still marveled  upon. The North still remembers the King in the North.

“He sounds like quite a man.” I say.

“Summon Jon Snow. Let him stand before you and tell you things that have happened to him, the things that he has seen with his own eyes.” Melisandre urged Daenerys. 

Tyrion nodded, “I can’t speak to prophecies or visions in the flames, but I like Jon Snow and I trusted him, and I am an excellent judge of character.” 

“If he does rule the north, he would make a valuable ally. The Lannisters executed his father and conspired to murder his brother. Jon Snow has even more reason to hate Cersei than you do.” Tyrion added. 

She glanced up from Tyrion to me, asking if it were true. I gave her a subtle nod and she turned back to Tyrion, smiling. 

“Very well. Send a raven north.” She says. “Tell Jon Snow that his Queen invites him to come to Dragonstone… and bend the knee.”

–––

Our new allies arrived early in the morning, just as the sun rose over the horizon. I wore a black dress with a wool outer layer with silver clasps running from my collarbone to above my navel. The shoulders, forearms, and collar had a dragon scale pattern. It was simple, but still full of detail, but most importantly it kept me warm in this dreaded weather.The rain had stopped overnight, but the clouds had stayed, blocking any sunlight.

Everyone was gathered at the Painted Table, all ready and waiting for Daenerys to make her entrance. As I entered the room, conversation between our guests dulled down as they couldn’t look away. I didn’t have to look to know what they were thinking. 

Another Targaryen? 

The room was cold from the night's rain and the cold sea so I threw more wood into the hearth and stood by Missandei as we waited for Daenerys. I glanced around the room, watching as Yara, Ellaria, and Olenna talked but occasionally glanced towards me. 

“They seem to be interested in you.” Missandei comments. 

“I thought they’d have a bigger reaction,” I say. “Maybe a few jaw’s on the floor, or a few gasps of shock.” 

Missandei chuckled. “I’m afraid all you’ll get is a few stares and gossip.” 

“I guess I can take that.” I hummed. 

The doors swung open as Daenerys entered. Everyone stood at attention as she made her way to the front of the room. 

“I want to thank you all for making the journey to Dragonstone. Now, let us begin.” 

Yara was the first to speak. “If you want the Iron Throne, take it. We have an army, a fleet, and three dragons. We should hit King's Landing now. Hard. With everything we have. The city will fall within a day.”

“If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorms.” Tyrion shook his head. 

Ellaria looked towards him with disgust, which was noticed by all. “It's called war. You don't have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.”

“I know how you wage war. We don't poison little girls here. Myrcella was innocent.” Tyrion bit back. 

Ellaria scoffed. “She was a Lannister. There are no innocent Lannisters. My greatest regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you.” 

“Oberyn was a grown man. He made his choice, no one can change that. Myrcella was a child, she didn’t do anything. I think we all here know that a child isn’t responsible for their fathers sins.” I said from the sidelines, giving her a pointed look. 

“That's enough. Tyrion is the Hand of the Queen. You will treat him with respect.” Daenerys reminded. Both Tyrion and Ellaria backed down, Ellaria giving me one last look. “I am not here to be the Queen of Ashes.” 

“That's very nice to hear.” Olenna said from across the table. “Of course, I can't remember a queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her, the nobles loved her. And what is left of her now? Ashes. Commoners, nobles, they're all just children really. They won't obey you unless they fear you.”

“I'm grateful to you, Lady Olenna, for your council. I'm grateful to all of you. But you have chosen to follow me. I will not attack King's Landing. We will not attack King's Landing.” Daenerys says, genuinely. 

“Then how do you mean to take the Iron Throne? By asking nicely?” Olenna asks. I smiled at the older womens sass. 

Daenerys looked towards me and I stepped forward. “We will lay siege to the capital, surrounding it on all sides. Cersei will have the Iron Throne, but no food for her army or the people.” 

“But we won’t use Dothraki and Unsullied.” Tyrion adds. He walks around the carved table, “Cersie will try to rally the lords of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty, their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we prove her point. Our army should be Westerosi.” 

“And I suppose we’re providing the Westerosi?” Ellaria clarifies. 

“You are.” Tyrion reached down, picking up a figurine that resembled a Kraken in a longship. “Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to Sunspear and her Iron Fleet will ferry the Dornish army back up to King’s Landing.” He walked over to the south of the map and picked up a figurine that resembled a sun. Taking both figurines, Tyrion places them at King’s Landing. “The Dornish will lay siege to the capital alongside the Tyrell army. Two great kingdoms united against Cersie.”

“So your master plan is to use our armies? Forgive me for asking, but why did you bother to bring your own?” Olenna asks Daenerys. 

Tyrion reached down, picking up a figurine that looked like an Unsullied helmet. He walked around the map. “The Unsullied will have another objective. For decades House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros. And the seat of that power is Casterly Rock. Grey Worm and the Unsullied will sail for the Rock and take it.”

He stops in front of Casterly Rock, a lion figurine sitting on the Rock. Tyrion takes a moment before knocking over the lion with the Unsullied figurine to everyone's pleasure. 

A clam settles and Daenerys addresses the room. “There is another matter to discuss.” Everyone looks at her, caught off guard. “I’ve come to learn that there will be an ambush in Blackwater Bay led by Euron Greyjoy under Cerseis’ order.” 

“What?” Someone says. 

“Your Grace,” Varys steps forward. “Forgive me, but I’ve heard no such thing to take place.” He eyes me suspiciously. “Perhaps you’re mistaken.” 

“There have been no mistakes, Lord Varys.” Daenerys says. I moved to stand on Daenerys' side. 

“Euron will strike at night.” I explain. “His ships are equipped with Scorpions, they’re deadly and will tare your ships to shreads.” 

Yara’s face drops. “What the hell do we do? Our ships aren’t fully equipped to take on his.” Theon, behind her, is equally terrified. 

“We know,” I say, calmly. “That is why I’ll be escorting you.” 

“Forgive me, my dear, but what can you do?” Olenna asks. 

“I’ll be on dragonback. I’ll be flying high enough to go unnoticed, but close by to help when the attack happens. There will be casualties on our end, that's certain, but this is war.” The others look at Daenerys and I in shock as they try to find the words to speak.

“But you’ve never flown into battle.” Tyrion says. 

“So?” I shrug. “I’ll have to fight at one point, might as well start now.”

“My Lady, you’ve never flown out that far, you’ll be all alone.” Missandei says. 

“No I won’t. I’ll have my dragon and I’ll have our new allies besides me.” I say, nodding towards Yara and Ellaria. “When I bent the knee to Daenerys and promised to get her the Iron Throne, I meant it. This is what I have to do.”

Daenerys gives me a reassuring look. She turned towards the room. “Do I have your support?”

Yara glances between Daenerys and I. “You have mine.” 

“Dorne is with you, Your Grace.” Ellaria says. 

Lady Olenna nods her head in agreement. 

“Thank you all.” Daenerys says, somewhat relieved. “Lady Olenna, may I speak with you alone?” 

Everyone bows and leaves the room. Before leaving I turned towards Daenerys, “I’ll go get ready for my departure.” 

She nods. “Stay safe, sister.”

I smiled. “I will. When I’m back I’ll let you put a braid in my hair.” I say, leaving. 

I stepped out into the hall and down to where my room was where everything was already ready for me. When I first had my conversation with Daenerys about the ambush I had also asked for some armor to be made for me. And with the help of the servants I was able to get into it quickly. It was simple but protective and it allowed me to ride my dragon without hurting either of us. I took two daggers that I’d also had made and placed them into their places on my hip.

Afterwards I headed to where the ships were docked and where Viserion was waiting for me. I stepped outside and saw everyone getting ready to leave. I spotted Yara and Theon were still on the docks giving orders to their crew. 

“Is everything ready?” I ask. 

“It is, My Lady. We’ll be leaving shortly.” Yara says. 

“Good. You’ll leave first and I’ll be behind you not far off. We need to make it look like you’re alone and unsuspecting.” I explained. I glanced back at Theon who still hadn’t said anything, but had something on his mind. “Is something bothering you, My Lord?”

Theon looked taken aback, surprised that I was talking to him. “I’m not a lord.” 

“You’re not?” I repeat. “You are Balon Greyjoy’s son, are you?” 

He nods, not fully looking up at me. 

“That makes you Lady Yara Greyjoy's brother, yes?” 

He nods again, still not looking up. 

“Then that makes you a Greyjoy, an Ironborn. You are every bit of a lord you are now and when you were born on Pyke, do not forget that. What’s happened has happened, no one can change that. All we can do is move forward. We Do Not Sow, yes?”

He nods, finally looking up at me. 

––––

The ships had cleared out of the docks and were making their way into Blackwater Bay. I stood near the cliffs, ready to leave, when Tyrion came to stand beside me. 

“What you’re doing is heroic, My Lady.” He says. 

“I guess it is. I’ve never done anything like this.” I flexed my fingers. “My entire body’s buzzing. Was this what you felt before the Battle of the Blackwater and defeated Stannis’ army?” 

Tyrion nodded. “It did. I felt like throwing up and shitting the floor at the same time.” We both laughed. “I had to drink a few glasses of wine to calm myself down. Perhaps it would help you, My Lady.” 

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, I’m fine. I need a clear head. But, you can save me that glass for when I get back. Then we can talk about everything that needs to be talked about. Don’t you agree?” 

“I do.” 

––––

It was pitch black and cold. The heat from Viserion’s body was still keeping me warm, but the cold wind blowing past my face was getting to me. Even from up there I could hear the waves crashing down which meant that I’d be able to hear when Euron’s fleet attacked. 

“How you feeling, big guy? Good?” I asked Viserion. He let out a small purr, his entire body vibrating. I sighed, looking up at the sky above. The stars and the mood were my only light as we flew further out. 

“Okay,” I say out loud. “Let's go over our plan. When they attack our ships we fly down and torch them, but we have to be careful not to get too close or else we’ll be caught and we have to watch out for the Scorpions. One hit with that and we’ll be recreating Queen Rhaenys and Meraxes. And keep your eye out for Euron, we need him alive.” 

Viserion purrs again and I take that as a sign that he agrees with the plan. The last few weeks I’ve flown with him were good, we’d stay around Dragonstone, the furthest we’ve been was Driftmark, so this was a huge risk. 

When I had explained to Daenerys my plan she was apprehensive. It was clear that she didn’t want either Viserion or I to get hurt, but she knew that we also couldn’t risk our fleet and our army. 

A loud crash brought me out of my thoughts, and a glow erupted from below. The steady waves of the ocean now clashed against one another as Euron began his assault. 

This was it. 

“Now.” I command. 

In an instant Viserion flies down past the clouds and we’re met with Eurons fleet fighting against Yara’s. Almost instantaneously my body and mind knew what to do. Without a word Viserion flew down and prepared himself. 

“Dracarys.” 

Fire erupts out of his mouth and lights the enemy ships below us ablaze. He lets out a loud scratch, gathering everyone's attention below before striking again. It takes them a minute before they aim their Scorpions up towards us. The massive arrows fly past us as Viserion weaves between them while burning Eurons fleet. 

It doesn’t take long for the battle to die down, the air filled with the smell of burnt wood and flesh. Our fleet was damaged but Eurons was completely destroyed. Anyone who could have survived the dragonfire were either killed or taken hostage. Like planned, a Targaryen flag is flown under the Greyjoy’s on Yara’s ship, Black Wind.  

–––––

Once I’d landed back on Dragonstone I quickly said goodbye to Viserion, letting him rest, and made my way down to the docks where everyone, minus Grey Worm, would be waiting for me. 

Daenerys was first to see me, giving me a tight hug while the others nodded my way, smiling. 

“Well done, My Lady. You’ve done well.” Tyrion says. 

“Thank you, but we’ve still got work to do.” 

Right on que, a ship comes into the docks. The crew works quickly to anchor down and disembark. The Ironborn and a few Dornish step off before Theon and a few of his men step off. He’s a little bruised, and he’s got dirt and ash on his face, but overall well. He bow’s towards Daenerys and I, giving me a small smile before he steps aside and allows his men in front who are dragging a beaten up Euron Greyjoy. 

“We’ve got him, Your Grace.” Says Theon. 

“Good,” Daenerys’ eyes never left the unconscious Euron. “Bring him to the dungeons.” 

The men hull him off and everyone makes their way back into the castle. I turn over to Tyrion. 

“Let’s have that drink.”

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!! A/N: I will be going on a hiatus for a few months. I've got some personal stuff going on so I won't be updating any of my series including this one. I don't know when I'll be back, but when I am I'll get you guys a new chapter so hang on tight. Thank you for all the support you've given so far. I know thing are only just getting started story wise but I have a lot to do and I'll make it up to you all when I'm back.

[pomefioredove]

could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^

more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

Trey and Cater's Ending

"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"

Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?

Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"

Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."

Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.

"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"

Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.

"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"

Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"

"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."

"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.

---

"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.

It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.

Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"

"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."

"...Understandable,"

Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.

"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."

You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"

"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."

Leona's Ending

"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.

"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"

Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"

"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"

He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.

---

"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."

You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.

"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."

"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."

Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.

"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"

He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"

"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"

"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"

"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.

You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.

"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"

He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."

You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.

It could be better, but it could also be worse.

Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.

This could definitely be interesting...

Rook's Ending

"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."

At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."

"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"

Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.

As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.

What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.

The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.

He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."

...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.

"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.

"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.

"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"

You couldn't have said it better yourself.

Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"

The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"

You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.

Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.

It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.

"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"

"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.

Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"

"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"

He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.

Idia's Ending

LOL. Normies.

Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.

I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.

That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...

The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.

He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.

Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"

"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"

"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"

Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"

Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"

"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"

"Well-"

"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"

"But Idia-"

"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"

"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.

"Idia, you won!"

And then he dies.

That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.

"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"

A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.

"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"

He takes a long moment to respond.

"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"

You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.

"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"

"I could go for something,"

Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.

"Um..."

He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"

He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"

He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.

Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"

"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"

"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"

"Clever," you murmur.

Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"

"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"

You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"

You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.

"Well? Are you coming?"

Lilia's Ending

"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"

Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"

Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"

Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.

Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"

"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.

---

You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.

You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"

"Surprised, you say?"

No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.

You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.

Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.

"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"

Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.

"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"

You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.

"No,"

"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"

"Definitely not, then,"

He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.

It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.

"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.

Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"

There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.

"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"

"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"

You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"

"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"

"Then... who is?"

Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"

Ah.

If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.

This might take the cake, though.

"I didn't even know-"

"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"

"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"

"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"

"This is... quite the turn of events,"

"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"

You can only grimace at that.

Malleus' Ending

During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.

Not that it mattered. Not this time.

One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.

"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.

Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"

Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.

Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.

"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.

You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...

"Yes,"

Oh.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.

Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"

"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."

Oddly profound.

You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.

"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"

Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.

And the, he smiles.

"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"

What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"

"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"

He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"

You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.

"Yes, it does,"

[thus-spoke-lo]

"What's Got You All Worked Up?": Little things that turn One Piece men on feat. Zoro - Sanji - Law - Usopp - Franky - Crocodile - Doflamingo

NSFW/18+ [minors DNI]

CW: gn!reader [Zoro, Sanji, Usopp]; afab!reader [Law, Franky, Crocodile, Doflamingo] - no gendered pronouns used; vaginal fingering [Law]; vaginal intercourse [Law]; somnophilia [Doflamingo]

Zoro: the way you look after a workout

Zoro never cares if you keep up with him when he works out—he loves that you want to spend time with him, adores how serious you take your bicep curls or how you look in the afternoon light when you lay down on a mat for a while to slowly stretch your limbs. But it’s when you’re all done for the day, when the heat of the midday sun has the room like a sauna and your muscles are sore and shaking, that he starts to lose all semblance of control. Your temples are dappled with perspiration, your chest heaving as you finish your last rep, sweat is trickling down your neck; he swallows hard and lets out a low groan at the sight of you. It reminds him of the way you look right after he fucks you, all heated and glistening with sweat and limbs weak and trembling. And since you’re already all warmed up, this seems like the perfect time to bend you over and take you right there on the weight bench.

Sanji: the way you smell

He doesn’t mean to be such a pest (well, actually he does) when he comes up behind you in the mornings, when you’ve just woken and you’re still sleep-drunk and groaning that the sun is out again already, but he needs to bury his face in the crook of your neck as soon as you wake and inhale your scent. Sanji thinks you smell sweet in the mornings, like pancakes and pastries, and pulls you back into bed so he can devour you like the delicious treat that you are. In the afternoons, he catches a whiff of you on the breeze, your skin covered in the salty spray of the sea, hands scented with tangerines after helping Nami in the garden, and he’s all over you, plying you with kisses and lust-tinged whimpers, begging you to come to his bunk, just for a little while, just so he can taste the way the citrus settled into your skin. And at night, he’s insatiable, burying his nose in your hair unabashedly when you stay to help him clean after dinner, taking in the way the faint traces of aromatic ingredients have settled on you and mixed with your own scent that he adores. It’s not long before he’s shutting off the sink and taking you by the hand, leading you over to the table and making a meal of you right then and there.

Law: the way you look in comfy clothes

Sure, he thinks you look lovely on the rare occasion you get to leave the submarine together and you doll yourself up for him, wearing that new shirt he likes, the one that flows over your body like water, and take the effort to line your eyes and swipe a little lipstick on. But when he feels the most hungry for you is when you get back and head straight to your quarters, stripping off your shoes and your pretty shirt and those tight jeans that make your ass look perfect but that you joke threaten to cut off your breathing one of these days. He sits in his desk chair and watches as everything comes off, and you crawl into his bed, face freshly-scrubbed, tucking your hands into the sleeves of an oversized sweatshirt. It’s then, when you’re finally comfortable and warm, when you look at ease and relaxed, and you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes, that he’s all over you, fingers dipping below the waistband of your soft cotton shorts, teasing your pussy until you whimper and beg for more. He doesn’t even bother to strip the rest of your clothes off before he pulls his cock out of his jeans and buries himself inside you to the hilt, pulling your shorts to the side instead so you can stay nice and cozy, just how he likes you.

Usopp: when you help in his workshop

Sharing his workspace with you is already intimate enough for Usopp – it’s like he’s sharing a piece of himself the way he invites you in. But once you’re in there, it’s hard for him not to be heated at how serious you take it. You look so sweet the way your tongue pokes out of your mouth when you’re focused on something, and he feels a tingle at the base of his spine whenever you pout and ask him for help—you’re so close to getting it right, you just need him to guide you, to stand behind you and place his hands on yours and make sure the welding equipment stays steady. Watching the way you grip that piece of metal piping your working with in a way that makes him wish your hands were wrapped around his length instead…it takes everything he has not to grab you and sit you on top his worktable, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him, let you feel just how much you drive him crazy. But he resists, at least for the moment, anyway--hearing you describe just how hard that steel is and how hot and sweaty you've become doing all this work pushes him to the brink soon enough, and he has no qualms in showing you exactly how skilled his hands are.

Franky: when you show just a little bit of skin

Coming from a man who walks around in an open shirt and swim briefs, this sounds pretty rich. But there’s just something so tantalizing about seeing a hint of skin and having to imagine what’s underneath, like that time your leggings were more sheer than you thought, and you bent over to grab the laundry basket and he got a quick glimpse of your panties (that happened to be the same pattern as one of his shirts). It was enough to drive him to distraction for the rest of the day and make him glad he was alone in the engine room, barely able to contain the way his cock pulsed every time he remembered how you looked. He loves that one sweater you wear, too—the one that just won’t stay on your shoulder and keeps slipping down, exposing just the slightest bit of soft skin in the afternoon sun, and the way it leads his eyes down to the way the fabric settles over your breasts. And don’t even get him started on that hint of your tummy he gets to see when you reach up to grab something off a high shelf, reminding him how easy it would be to wrap his big hand around your waist and just slide it right on up until he can feel the silky material of that nice bra he bought you…have mercy.

Crocodile: the way you look getting ready for dinner

It’s so routine now that you don’t seem to mind—at first it alarmed you, made you feel like prey when Crocodile would sit on the velvet couch in your quarters, his arms draped across the back, a cigar clenched in his teeth, and he’d watch you ready yourself for that evening’s festivities. But now, you almost welcomed the way his predatory gaze would settle on you as you sit at your vanity and paint your lips; you throw a wink and a pout his way now and again in the mirror, almost tempting him to ruin that pretty makeup after you’ve spent so long putting it on. He loves how your body moves, almost sleek and catlike, around the room, slinking into your closet and asking him which dress he likes better. He shifts in his seat as you wriggle into that pretty blue number he adores, and throbs as you glance over your shoulder and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to come zip you up. And how can he refuse? Of course, by the time he crosses the room and reaches you, you both know that he has no plans to move that zipper an inch, and instead you feel the tip of his hook lifting your hem as he growls in your ear to bend over—he’s going to take care of that needy pussy of yours before you ever step foot out of your room. Guess you’ll be late for dinner, again.

Doflamingo: the way you look when you’re sleeping

He chuckles quietly and wonders if you fell asleep this way on purpose—the silken nightgown he dressed you in before he left for the evening has been discarded on the floor, and you lay atop the sheets, your body completely bare and bathed in moonlight. He slowly circles the bed like a predator, admiring the way your limbs are stretched out, arms flung above your head, your legs spread, one knee bent and lolled to the side, exposing your pretty little cunt. It looks just like the way you fling yourself onto the mattress when you’re feeling needy, how you toss your dress at him and lay back against the plush pillows, biting your lip and beckoning him to you with sweet pleas of I need you. He licks his lips at how your slit glistens, and wonders if you���re dreaming of him, wonders if perhaps you touched yourself thinking of him before you fell asleep. He sits carefully on the edge of the bed and watches you sleep a little longer, your lashes fluttering slightly as you moan and shift, your breasts heaving as you inhale deeply and sigh. You tempt him even in slumber, and he palms the throbbing hardness that pushes against his slacks, groaning softly as he decides if he should wake you with his fingers, his tongue, or his cock.

[the-raindeer-king]

Rings I think the 141 would marry you with 💍 (I got the reference pictures off Pinterest. Don't come at me please.)

John Price is giving you a family heirloom. It's been in his family for forever, and it's passed down to the eldest child. And he's so glad to finally be able to use it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is giving you one of these pretty ring sets. The kind that all stack together. He gives you part of it as your engagement ring, and you get the final pieces during your wedding ceremony.

John "Soap" MacTavish is getting you a matching set. He's so proud to be your husband, and he wants the world to know it. So of course his wedding band matches your wedding ring. And honestly? You wouldn't have it any other way.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is giving you something small and dainty. As much as he'd love to put a rock on your finger, he can't afford the risk. He wants you to be able to have plausible deniability, in case work follows him home.

[zph]

dumb, dumber, and bloody. | vampire!scaramouche x gn!hunter reader

a vampire and hunter’s guide to the “will they? won’t they?” trope except it is either between kissing or killing each other.

notes: suggestive (making out lol), tension, mentions of blood (not too explicit), bloody kisses?, mentions of injections, somehow u both match each others freak (in a loser & kinda wanna kill each other way), not proofread

masterlist

there is something so alluring about danger, about trusting your neck, so vulnerable and pliant to a creature who can easily tear it in half.

“you could have killed me.” he says, huffing between each breath. “why didn’t you fucking kill me?”

the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating yet you stood firm, one hand holding him closer and the other tugging down the neckline of your shirt, baring more skin for him to bite. “I quite like your fangs, you know. they’re..” your laugh comes out more breathless than he expected, more staggered. “really…sharp. hey, do you bite your tongue sometimes?”

“you’re..” he touches your neck, watching it bob as he lingers over the marks. “so reckless.” his touch was uncharacteristically gentle; the coldness from his fingertips numbs the stinging pain and washes over you like a cold bath. “insatiable hunter.”

you took up every crevice of his mind, craving his attention at every turn. a dumb hunter with an even dumber passion to seemingly tug at his patience and enough audacity to take it to the extreme, and even better methods of escaping. it was driving him insane how close he is to drinking you dry and how damn calm you appear right now. you were so infuriating.

“you had a complete advantage.” he begins, each word becoming more frustrated than the last. “your injection was right there. hah, i was right there. you could have been done with this. finished your mission and move on.”

you simply smile. “you were hungry.”

but he spits out, grabbing hold of your shirt, wrinkling it under his firm clenches. “and you were not supposed to be my food.”

“too late for that now?” his breath was only inches from yours. his eyes glinting with boiling anger, desperation, and something else entirely.

“you are so…” it was getting hard to breathe, and scaramouche barely looked like he could keep himself together, staring straight from your face down to the mischievous grin plastered on your lips.

this is what he wanted for so long, how much he longed for the end of that incessant hunter who makes it their goal to rally him around like some toy, and then leave once he finally got you in his grasp. but now? he doesn’t know whether his irritation stems from the end of this cat-and-mouse game or the fact you looked so happy under his tight hold.

yet you tug on his hip, curling your finger around the pant loop and pulling him closer until your chest was well pressed up against his. “stupid?” you murmur like a challenge, watching as his eyes flicker with a certain glow: dangerous and electrifying. “maybe.” so, you were aware.

“what makes you think i won’t kill you right now?”

“because you would have done so the moment your teeth sank into me.” and when your hand reaches towards your pocket, he feels that same injection tickling his neck, readily aimed straight at his skin.

finally, his gaze reaches down your neck, tracing the faint bite marks that litter the skin with such reverence that he has to bite down the urge. “and you would have done the same.”

in truth, you both were restricting the other in some way, reaching a stalemate of some sort. above all else, you both valued the other with a sick curiosity. and with each well-intentioned move, you kept your indulgence under wraps until you both couldn’t take it anymore.

it was then that laughter swelled up in scaramouche’s chest.

what a mess you both were.

despite this, you feel his hand slowly travel up from your shirt, dragging along to your jaw then gently tilting your head until it levels towards his. you lean in closer, anticipation twitching in your fingertips as you tug on his waist once more.

one beat. one second. and his lips crash into yours.

the frustration is all visible to you as his cold fingers wrap around the nape of your neck. the cool chill envelopes your body once more and makes itself home by slowly ghosting down your spine.

spending more time in his presence led you to curiously prod at his temper, waving around your status as a hunter, which many times earned you a cut or two in retaliation.

but not like this, not when he holds you as if you weren’t enemies but two lovers, fatally enthralled with each other.

and to your surprise, he drags the kiss for much longer. “you better come back after you tell your advisors that you somehow lost me again.” scaramouche mutters, his voice hazy and breathless. he only pulled away for a mere second until he is back on your lips once more, greedily shallowing the chuckle that escapes your mouth.

by gods, it’s hard to fight him on it. not when he tugs on your lower lip, nipping at it until a familiar metallic fills your mouth. definitely not when his tongue practically brushes against the puncture, your brain dizzying the moment he sighs at the taste.

only in each other’s presence, you both felt so vulnerable for the first time, but despite that evident danger, neither of you can find yourselves pulling away.

[moondirti]

i do think dark! gaz has a bit of a... complex about everything he does. a sort of hypocrisy, or sanctimonious attitude — the apollonian champion who'll scorn the sensuous for all but himself. it's a friction that started at work (as all things do, of course) but has gone so far as to infiltrate life beyond it, too.

toxicity. manipulation. isolation. dumbification.

perhaps non obvious to a stranger, nothing like the more flagrant quirks of his teammates. on a surface level, he's the only typical member of his task force. the charm he uses to cut through life used as a shortcut for the others. kyle is the one obliged to order drinks at every bar, or the shepherd to lead flightier birds into the overbearing mens' beds. who's told, repeatedly, how approachable and handsome and kind he is compared to them. that he sets himself apart, despite how equally sullied his hands are. despite the blood crusting beneath his fingernails, and the callus on his trigger finger. despite the sins he's committed fighting those with perfectly mirrored ledgers, trying to stop them from committing more by committing more.

and there's nothing to argue against, not really. spoor it back to basic, where they were taught to justify transgressions by the flag stamped over their arm — it's okay when he does something, because he's on the right side. thrust that ideology forward and it's quick to snowball. now nothing is off limits, not as long as he can justify it. and wouldn't he — decorated, promoted, hand-picked, college educated, admired, perceptive, quick witted, revered, moral, righteous kyle — have well founded grounds for everything he intends to do?

of course he does. he knows best, always.

you edge closer, and that ugliness starts to bare its teeth.

like dipping your toes into placid waters, surface undisturbed, only to be pulled under by leviathan itself. it's something that's been allowed- no, encouraged to grow. fed and fattened up, cleaving through the sea unchallenged. in every relationship, he will appoint himself as the moral arbitrator for your every action. that is, being respected means that everything you do will be picked apart. be ready to defend your decisions, because he's appraising them all. keeps an incisive eye on you, your health, your hobbies, your friends, your clothing, your sleep, your finances, etc... something i think he inherited from price and adapted for his own; though he won't control those aspects for you (at least, not directly), he'll expect you to live up to the expectations he holds.

— which are not the expectations he has for himself.

(sensualism, overconsumption, corruption, arrogance, indecency.

they're all on the cards for him, if he can warrant it.)

and why would they be? you're not him, not unless you prove you're on par, in time. kyle maintains a double standard, though he wouldn't necessarily call it that. he just can't expect you to prescribe the level of thought he does to everything, or do it with enough discretion. do you really dig into the full range of consequence, decide value based on utility? do you know to tally the calculus that determines right from wrong,

(to vindicate pain, you have to maximise happiness. perfectly simple, really. applies to most everything — from the way he bullies you into the relationship in the first place, by determining it's for your greater good, to how he prunes off your friends, one 'break up with him!' advocate at a time.)

or do you act on impulse, like so many of the brutes he's told he's better than?

he wouldn't blame you if you do.

nor would he end things, should you disappoint him.

but you see, having kyle lose faith in you is arguably worse.

to most, things look like they get better. even you're so easily fooled, at first. he's much gentler than he was before. his words no longer have that sharp edge to them, censure a dull knife tucked in the back of a drawer. if you trip or make a mistake, he'll shush the pleas rolling to the tip of your tongue, soft kisses placed over your eyes, cradling your trembling arm. if you succumb to any of your baser desires — like employing your vibrator in his absence, oblivious to the cameras he's installed around the house — he'll just come back home and wring a dozen more orgasms out of you, indulgent of the lust you're so brazen about.

however nice it is, you half expect the switch to flip at any moment; watching warily from the corner of your eye as he goes about his days, completely content to let you do whatever you want. things just feel wrong, thrown off kiler. like there's something going unsaid, or a piece you're misunderstanding. how someone can just shift like that — turn their back on the model they upheld for so long, seemingly overnight. it strikes you the wrong way. too good to be true, almost.

(undoubtedly.)

you finally understand once you voice your concerns.

because kyle refuses to hear you out, pouting condescendingly when you go on about how 'hard things used to be' and how you're 'worried about his change of heart.' (two very antithetical sentiments, he has to say.) doesn't answer any of your questions. rather, he coos softly at your cries, brushing the hair off your temple like one would do a beloved animal. those tears are too big for you, lovie. so silly worrying about complicated things like that. why don't you clear that little head for me before supper.

you're no longer regarded as human, at least not one worthy of deference. but that's just what you wanted, wasn't it? by being so negligent of what it takes to keep that status in his eyes. humans exhibit discipline, intelligence, order, routine. if you can't uphold what that entails, then—

well, you're no better than a pet.

(free range, at least.)

[variberii]

coriolanus who would hold your hand when you studied, keeping you focused.

coriolanus who would read you the words in your textbook so you didn’t have to read then take notes.

coriolanus who needed to eat disgusting food until you showed up and fed him before he got to school.

coriolanus who was top of all his classes and the most clever boy you ever met.

coriolanus who you had a crush on.

coriolanus who took you out to see the stars because he couldn’t afford anything else.

coriolanus who slept with a stuffie.

to…

coriolanus who ruled with an iron fist.

coriolanus who cheated in the hunger games then clawed his way back to the top.

coriolanus who came back not a boy, but an unrecognizable man.

coriolanus who became his father.

coriolanus who killed many.

coriolanus who used his power against others.

coriolanus who continued the very games that ruined him.

coriolanus who came back on top.

[yuwuta]

so we know that nanami, thee standard, doesn't accept fwb and has to take you out for a proper time after a while.. curious about what you think about gojo? he strikes me as the type to enjoy fwb, but also not? also, hear me out, yuwuta... megumi? fwb with megumi... sighs dreamily

my likeliness to engage in fwb behavior scale goes like this: most gojo = yuuta > toge = yuuji > maki > nanami > nobara = megumi least

satoru and yuuta say yes if you ask them but it’s only because they already like you or already in love with you… and they know that it’s not the best idea in the world, but through their powers of delusion, they think they can make you like them back. because clearly whatever they’re doing now isn’t enough, so maybe sex will help?? who’s ever turned down bomb dick yk… besides, sex with boys who think they’ve got something to prove >> that being said, it’s never really been fwb in their head, their plan was never noncommittal sex, they have all their strings attached to you and they want to be yours forever, so good luck <3

toge and yuuji are also pretty likely to do it, because, again, who are they to turn down their best friend asking them for sex? they both go into it very naively, they go along with whatever rules and boundaries you set, and are genuinely in it to have fun with you and please you, but they get very confused very quickly. it feels like a relationship to them, so shouldn’t it be a relationship? they don’t think much of it until you bring up exclusivity and/or mention going on a date with someone else, then all the feelings come forth and jealousy rears it’s ugly head and the next time you sleep together something shifts, it’s more possessive, more desperate, more mine mine mine… think they’re the ones to either confess or just… assume you’re dating and/or tell you you’re dating now lol. like toge just throws his shirt at you when you try to get up and leave him the next day and tells you you aren’t exhibiting much girlfriend like behavior, and yuuji either says something sappy or does something sweet and you tell him he doesn’t have to and he just goes “but you’re my girlfriend! ofc i’m gonna be nice to you!… you are my girlfriend, in case you didn’t know!” 

maki debates it for a bit, and then reasons that the convenience of it would be nice. she doesn’t expect to get attached, and it really annoys her when you invade her thoughts when she’s supposed to be busy with things not involving you. but she doesn’t really say anything about it. honestly, you would either have to call it off, or express interest in someone else before she realizes that the way to solve her intrusive thoughts of you isn’t to go back to being friends, it’s to go to being something more than friends. 

nanami also agrees for the convenience of it, but even so, he debates it for a while after you bring it up to him. ultimately, he decides that if it’s something you truly want, he will do his best to ensure it’s beneficial for the both of you. he seems like he actually tries to develop some kind of schedule—not just for convenience, but also because he wants to make sure he has time to treat you properly. quickies on his lunch break probably aren’t what you signed up for, so he makes sure he has the time and energy to devote himself to you. the problem becomes two fold: (1) kento starts to want you all the time, not just the times you’ve set aside to have sex, and (2) the longer your arrangement goes on, the more kento believes that you deserve to have someone who can dedicate all their time to you. he doesn’t think that you should settle for convenient, arranged sex with a partner who has no attachment or loyalty to you, you deserve to be taken care of wholly. and so, he steps up and becomes that person, even if it’s not something you were striving for. you will gain a boyfriend and a committed relationship, that is the very bare minimum from him!! 

nobara and megumi seem the least likely to want any kind of fwb situation. nobara thinks they too frequently develop into situationships, and she doesn’t have space or time in her life to be in a situationship with anybody—much less somebody like you who’s already wormed your way into her life against her will. you’ve unfolded your chair, now sit in it. if you want nobara, you get all of her, all the time. it’s similar with megumi; even if he isn’t the most upfront with his feelings, megumi is a romantic at heart, he does things according his beliefs, he’s moved by his own motives, he needs to be moved to do anything really—and friends with benefits does not move him. if you want megumi, then simply be obsessed with him or die tbh, like he’s not ever one to engage in anything half-way; you want sex with him, then you’re gonna learn to put up with his cold fingers and surly attitude and unwillingness to get out of bed before 11am, you are going to be his if he’s gonna give anything to you

[m-ayo-o]

how they say ✨ good girl ✨ JJK

Satoru

Like he's talking to a puppy xxx

Kento

Low, deep, lusty, heavy, turns you on evvvery time

Toji

Like he's talking to his daughter...

Suguru

He sounds like sex.

Megumi

Like he genuinely believes you are such a good girl

Yuji

Sweetly, shyly, as if he's a bit embarrassed to say it

Choso

He says it once, prefers when you call him good boy

[mortalheartache]

how I look at my friends after they ask what I post on my Tumblr:

[kerensilkiss]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 : pattadol

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : a run in with a succubus reveals your feelings for your fellow canary, just how will she react to this new information?

𝐚/𝐧 : this is inspired by my friend dais’s ( @daistea ) fic that she wrote with mithrun and kabru! i heavily recommend you read it cause it’s a favorite of mine! anyway, hope you enjoy!

the soft crunching of the dirt below you was sickeningly loud, it echoed through the cavernous area that was this dungeon. though, you were thankful for it. between you and your companion, there were barely any words spoken aside from a few related to the mission at hand. little small talk, little jokes.

this wouldn’t be the first time you had been sent on a mission with pattadol, in fact there had been countless times where it was decided that the two of you would be best suited for certain tasks. it was odd to you. when the time came that you had to work together, pattadol was quieter than usual. she didn’t seem to act that way with your fellow canaries, so naturally you thought that she didn’t like you. but, you definitely liked her.

there was something charming about the elf, maybe it’s the way her golden hair trickles down her shoulders. or could it possibly be her kind persona, her tendency to smile at you and greet you in the mornings certainly does make the start of your days a little brighter. perhaps it is her reaction to panic over you whenever you get hurt. she's always been gentle when she uses her healing magic to mend you. there were so many little things, or instances, that made you like, no, love her. even if you tried, you don’t think you could remember which exact moment had made you fall in love with her in the first place. maybe you were too in love with her.

as you passed through another archway in the dungeon, a drop of water dripped directly onto your head. the sudden splash of cold on your scalp made you shiver, the feeling like tiny needles stabbing you. with a groan, you walked faster to catch up to your partner who was just a ways ahead of you to hopefully avoid more water. as you speedily made your escape from the dripping ceiling, you began to take in more aspects of the path you were traveling. the smell of moss was fresh in the air, and so was the stench of death. neither of those came as a surprise, after all this dungeon was an ancient graveyard. but the nauseating feeling that you were walking over someone's grave gave you the heebee jeebees.

then suddenly, pattadol came to an abrupt stop at a wall with a patch of elven runes. with a relieved smile, she glanced at you over her shoulder and motioned for you to come closer with her free hand. her other hand held a scroll and a piece of charcoal, one that was used previously in the day for your other rune rubbings. “here, these are the last ones we need,” she said, then she began her work. a small smile etched itself onto your face, the relief that pattadol had expressed was definitely reciprocated.

as a precaution, you stood behind her to watch for monsters. your eyes traveled across the room searching for any signs of a disturbance, but you were met with nothing out of the ordinary. a part of you was relieved that there appeared to be nothing, but you knew something was amiss. dungeons are the type of place where monsters run rampant, meaning that more than likely you will run into a fair share of them. it was too quiet, too calm. there had to be someone or something hiding in the shadows, stalking and waiting.

that inkling in your gut only worsened as a few minutes passed by, the feeling turning into pain as your anxiety increased. you wanted to warn pattadol, but if she panicked then that would alert the monster that you were now aware of it’s presence. all you could do is continue to stand guard and keep your eyes peeled.

from behind you, the elf finished up the rubbings of the runes. normally, the process wouldn’t take as long but pattadol wanted to take her time. the charcoal had to be layered to make sure that the writing was clear, and she didn’t want to disappoint her superiors by turning in lackluster work. but, finally her charcoal was able to be put down. taking in a large deep breath, she blew some air at the paper to get rid of any stray charcoal dust. then her lips turned up into a triumphant grin as she admired her work. “the rubbings are done, [name]. we can go back to the surface now,” she proudly announced.

you took a quick glance at her, then turned your gaze back to continue watching the shadows. “great, now let’s hurry. there’s something off about this area,” you frowned.

pattadol quickly began to roll up the scroll, the fear that something was indeed watching you made the hair on her neck stand up. she made fast work of it and was back on her feet within a short time, hands holding the scroll close to ground herself instead of panicking. sadly, that didn’t last for long.

a loud thud came from the direction whence you came from, and whatever it was that had fallen was most definitely coming your way. your eyes widened at the footsteps, what could it be that was making that noise? you hadn’t seen any adventurers on your descent through the dungeon, so it couldn’t be a human. if it wasn’t a human, then what was it? a zombie? but their footsteps would be slower than what you could hear over your racing heartbeat.

behind you, pattadol was beginning to lose her cool. her eyes were widened with confusion, and her teeth were gritted to stop herself from letting out any unnecessary noise. “what was that?” she asked.

just as the girl uttered those words, a sweet scent came wafting through the air. it smelled familiar, like something from home. but, how was that possible? you were nowhere close to home. you were thousands of miles away from there. it all confused you, what could mimic this specific scent? then it occurred to you, there was only one monster that could do that. “a succubus,” you grimaced. “stay behind me.”

then, a figure stepped out of the shadows. the sight made pattadol gasp in shock.

the first detail you noticed was what it was wearing, a canary uniform. the pieces that made up the uniform were just as the average canary would wear, a tunic, a pleaded skirt, and a green cloak. but there was only one canary that you knew of that wore pants like this figure did, pattadol. however, there was a distinguishing detail that let you know that this was not your pattadol. it held a look of desire, the kind that had a longing for someone. perhaps this was what your subconscious thought of her, you wanted her to look at you that way. you narrowed your eyes at the creature, it disgusted you how it took advantage of its victims like this.

the succubus was getting closer now, only a few yards stood between you. now was the time to act, so you reached for your sword. the fast unsheathing of the blade seemed to make the monster more alert, and it’s body moved at a fast pace to get close enough for an attack. the sudden difference in the monsters movements took you off guard for a moment, but you quickly came back to your senses to try and land a hit. sadly, it was futile. as you tried to ground yourself once again, the succubus went in for a swing. you quickly moved to the right and used your sword as a guard, eyes still trained on it.

this continuous pattern of swinging and dodging went on for a few moments, then finally the monster managed to make you fall to the ground. small pieces of rock dug into your skin, the feeling ten times worse due to holding your sword for a long period. from above you, something began protruding out of the succubus’s hand. a needle-like appendage had appeared, and it was coming straight toward you. your feet moved to scoot your body further away from the creature, but it still persisted to get closer to you. the needle was hovering just over your arm, then there was a sudden yell from a few feet away from you.

pattadols fairy had been transformed into its staff form, and it was aimed right toward the succubus. the serious look on her face was one of anger as well as panic, she was going to cast a spell. the spell was more than likely going to hit both you and the succubus if you didn’t move quickly enough, so she hastily shouted. “[name], watch out!”

as the spell was cast, you shuffled your body away as the creature tried to follow you. however, a bright light appeared behind it and crashed straight into its body, blowing up the succubus. the sight made your eyes widen, now the monster was nothing but bits of flesh. you looked up to pattadol, who looked just as shocked as you did. her breathing was uneven, clearly she hadn’t had to use that spell before and had to get her bearings back.

after she took a moment to breathe, pattadol immediately ran over to check on you. the pain in your hands turned into a throbbing sensation as you waited for her. you probably would’ve noticed the pain before if you didn’t just almost get killed by a succubus. the girl kneeled beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders to hold you still. her eyes frantically searched for any obvious injuries. “are you okay?! are there any cuts or bruises?” she worriedly asked.

lifting your hands from the ground, you showed her the small cuts from the rocks. you were a bit embarrassed by how easily the succubus had overwhelmed you so you turned your head in shame and gave her a quiet mumble. “just a few from falling on the ground, but nothing major.”

the girl was quiet for a moment, then she grabbed your hands to get a good look at the injury. you were right, it was a minor injury. but it made her feel guilty, if she had acted faster then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all. her eyebrows furrowed just looking at it, and her lips turned into a frown. she was ashamed too.

noticing that she hadn’t begun to heal you, you took a glance at her. her downcast expression made you feel awful, it was like a puppy had just been kicked. so you tried to be positive to cheer her up. “don’t worry, pattadol. it’s not like i broke my arm.” you smiled.

her lips pursed, then she reached for your hands. she muttered a healing spell, which efficiently healed your injury. “still, you could’ve gotten badly injured by that monster,” she said, and let go of your hands.

there was no fighting against that, it was true. if pattadol hadn’t been there, you would’ve been turned into baby succubi food. that reminded you, the succubus. it took the form of pattadol. the real pattadol had seen what your true desire was, her. were things going to be different between the two of you now? did she feel the same way? the thought that she wouldn’t want to speak to you again after this incident made you worry, you didn’t want that to happen. so you approached the topic with caution. “so, about the form the succubus took…” you started reluctantly.

pattadol looked at you for a moment, then glanced around the room to avoid eye contact. she opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again as a blush spread across her cheeks. she seemed hesitant, like she didn’t know the right thing to say. her fingers twiddled with each other, dancing across the silence that was between you. then she finally let it out. “i return your feelings.”

your eyes widened, you seemed to be doing that a lot today. “you do?” you asked.

“yes.” she said, now looking you in the eyes.

a joyful smile stretched across your face. you then pulled pattadol close into a tight embrace, making her yelp with surprise. she eased into the hug, reciprocating your embrace. she could feel you mumbling something against her shoulder as she hugged you tighter. “you don’t know how happy this makes me, pattadol.”

she smiled over your shoulder, then heard a groan coming from you. she pulled back from the hug and lifted a hand to your forehead. your temperature felt hotter than normal, it must be the side effects from her healing spell. now wasn’t the time to discuss your relationship status. so, pattadol hoisted you up on your feet and slipped an arm around your waist to help you stand. you tried to insist that you didn’t need help, but pattadol wasn’t having it. “let’s just get back to the surface, we can talk about this more when you aren’t feeling sick.” she said.

@𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 - please do not translate or copy my works.

[piqtescue]

thomas with a moustache hits different👀

[sepicriting]

I was wondering if you had any nsfw headcanons about the twins? *cough cough* varis specifically

yandere twins part two

―for you, they're willing to give chase.

directory: part one here. contents: yandere male x gender-neutral reader. yandere female x gender-neutral reader. only references to darling are 'you' and 'darling'. drugging mentions. nsfw headcanons midway. implied dubcon.

notes: i saw this as an opportunity to insert the second part of the introduction, eat well!

ageless blogs and those below the age of seventeen, dni.

With the people around you leaving slowly but surely, you could only become closer to Vitalina and Varis. Your friendships with others would slowly fade to nothing, and the past few months you'd spend with the twins would have you absolutely spoiled. Any remnants of guilt would dissipate as you grew accustomed to their spending habits when it came to you. And while you could admit that their favor for you was sometimes bordering on unhealthy, you couldn't bring yourself to speak up. It's not like they were hurting anyone, right? And they're always doing what they have to so it's not like they were destroying their own lives either.

Oh, if only you knew.

How they outwardly expressed their love for you was nowhere near as tame as they behaved themselves with you. You'd never know how many ugly words Lina uttered about other people, how many lives she's ruined so you could stay by their side. You'd never know how many bodies, dead or alive, went into the back of Varis's car. The times of Lina slipping drugs into countless drinks, or the times Varis's knives sank deep into many flesh.

Any line that could be crossed, at least one of the two has walked over for you. It's all for you.

You wouldn't know you're holding hands with ones who have killed before, nor would you realize the lips coming to press kisses on your hands are the ones that drove someone mad. But that's not something you should know, they love that you're able to enjoy your time with them. They're just waiting for the right moment to tell you how deeply they adore you, that's all.

And when they decide that it is time, they'll be expecting a positive response from you. They've done their very best endearing themselves to you, spending quality time, giving gifts, doing you acts of service, so can you please let them into your heart?

Of course, they'll give you time to think about it! Just think very carefully.

The moment they realize that you're comfortable and secure in your shared dynamics, they'll be more attentive to your reactions whenever they initiate intimate times.

They would stay as detached from each other as possible throughout sex, as they aren't into incest, but they'd work together so you'll feel heaven.

Your first time will be with both of them of course. They'll make sure you'll be pampered and spoiled by ensuring you'd just be lying down. Just stay good for them and they'll take care of the rest.

For as much touching as Varis enjoys doing, Lina will always be the one to initiate if you don't, with innocent kisses turning heated the longer you let her lips on yours.

She'd tug on your clothes and start begging if she could please start touching you? Though Varis would cut in before you could answer so he could have a taste of your mouth.

And where Lina's desperation lies, Varis's greed reigns. His kisses will never be anything short of intense if he's the one who initiates them, always ensuring that you'll be gasping for air by the time he pulls away. And in that duration, Lina would have already made quick work of your clothes and you'd be half-naked.

She'd take a moment to appreciate your nipples, circling them before she'd gently press down, leaving kitten licks and kisses all around before she'd move downwards.

And Varis wouldn't pass up any opportunity to mark your neck after he kisses you dizzy, leaving a trail of dark hickeys while he begins to palm you through your underwear. Trailing your arousal, yet never quite adding the pressure you want. It's only when Lina reaches your lower half that he'll relent, moving out of the way to let her unveil you as if you were her favorite present.

Every time that she sees your arousal, she'll always stop to stare. Who wouldn't? You're everything she'll ever want and more, and she'll always be eager to please if it means you'll let her see these parts of you she adores. She'll make sure to slowly rub you, kissing your inner thighs before she descends her head to feast on your hole as if she were starving, diving her tongue in without caring, listening to your noises as her wetness begins to pool.

Varis will take his sweet time teasing your upper half while Lina occupies your bottom half, palming his cock too with one hand while he watches you moan when he nips your chest and leaves lovebites everywhere.

The instant you cum for them, Lina will make sure she gets every last drop, lapping you clean before she pulls away to sit beside you and press kisses to your face, all the while Varis would take his spot between your legs.

He'd tug his pants off, letting them fall to the floor, and kick them off before leaning forward to tower over you. He wanted to be the one to finish you off, hushedly whispering for you to relax before kissing your collarbone and then pushing himself in.

To say that his length was long would be an understatement, he was stretching you out and he hasn't even bottomed out. He'd kiss your forehead in an attempt to ease you as he sunk further in, but the relieved smile he would give you would leave you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

And he'd wait a moment so you to get used to him, not minding how Lina would reach and turn your face to her for another kiss.

But once she pulls away, Varis would be done waiting, and he'd be pulling out to thrust into you in one go, groaning against your throat and biting softly. It felt good to hear your cries and the soft noises that escaped your lips, your volume increasing with every fervent movement of his hips.

With every grunt Varis gives, every kiss Lina steals, you'd inevitably come undone first. The feeling of being held tightly and surrounded with warmth makes your orgasm almost worth it. Almost. But there's still time for Varis and Lina, for their release too.

You'd watch them, realizing that Lina had been knuckle-deep into herself all this time, nearing her climax from just watching, and Varis's fingers were beginning to dig painfully into your thighs as his thrusts slowed down, compensating for how deep and good it felt, sending you into a state of overstimulation.

You were theirs now, nothing could take you from them and Varis was going to make sure to rail that fact into you. That way, should you ever come to question their devotion, you'd at least never doubt the intimacy they give.

And the moment they near their end, their breathing would grow ragged until they each reached their peak. Lina would immediately snuggle to your left, eyes glazed over from the afterglow of pleasure, while Varis took to your right, a quiet smugness in his eyes as he silently admired you.

Even through the emotions you felt at that very moment, you would receive a loving kiss from both sides, just as you deserve.

[lunarmoves]

another possible future scene from my summer camp au!! they are silly goofy having fun (revenge will be had)

[vpyre]

hiii if u still wanted asks for that sentence starter thing, how about number 20 said from someone(reader if u want) to copia? 👀 feel free to ignore this of course!

20. Just wait and see what I’m going to do to you once I get you alone.

Ohoho, you knew exactly which one I wanted to write ;P

Thanks for requesting dude! <3

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

Copia, in full papal regalia, stands resplendent behind the pulpit. While the bishops handle the regular congregation, Copia leads services for the members who hold some sort of rank, ranging from siblings of sin to cardinals.

He’s just started off the unholy communion, and you’re already feeling itchy with displeasure. The way some of the other clergy members look at him when he puts the wafers in their mouths is bringing out the possessive streak in you, and the longer it goes on, the harder it gets to keep your feelings under wraps.

Soon enough it’s your turn, and you stride right up to him and kneel, raising an eyebrow at him. He glances uncertainly down at you as he sets the paper-thin wafer on your tongue, unsure what that look might mean. You gesture for him to lean a little lower than strictly necessary so you can hiss at him, “I don’t like how the others are looking at you. If I had it my way, I would bend you over that altar right now so everyone would know you were mine.”

His eyes widen and his ears go a little red, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He’s not doing a very good job. You smirk and let him turn away to pretend to fiddle with the wine chalice while he gets his face under control. Immensely enjoying how flustered he is, you stare him down the whole time while he shoots you looks that are equal parts anxious and amorous. He’s distracted enough that he almost spills several times before finally turning back to you and holding the cup to your lips. You hold his gaze as you drink deeply, unblinking and brazen. He stares right back as if entranced, and in that moment, it’s like he’s the one kneeling at your feet instead.

You finish and stand, but before you turn to leave, you put a hand on his shoulder in a deceptively friendly gesture, lean right up close, and murmur, “I wouldn’t ruin your image like that (unless you asked), but I do want to ruin you. Just wait and see what I’m going to do to you once I get you alone.”

He’s lucky he’s wearing his paint, because, judging by the way his pupils dilate and his lips gently part, he’s probably flushed a beautiful shade of red. It’s also very lucky he’s wearing robes, since, knowing him, he’s likely fighting a boner and losing.

Satisfied that he’ll be able to think about nothing else the whole service, you go back to your seat, ready and eager to watch him struggle. You know he feels your eyes on him the entire time, even when he’s not looking at you. He stumbles over his words every so often, and it usually coincides with a glance at you, followed by that hazy look that others might not pick up on, but that you could recognize anywhere: he is almost certainly vividly imagining what you are going to do to him.

[fallow-hollow]

Hi may I request Pattadol with gn tall-man reader where she crushes on us when she and canaries came for their work? I really want canaries to tease her(ye even slowly rehabilitating Mithrun) I can imagine her trying postpone their departure to at the very least confess before leaving after everything's done, coming up with weird reasons until her new job given by the Queen allows her to stay a bit(by elf standards) more.

deadline extension

ft… pattadol, the canaries

tags… pining, fluff, open-ended, reader is a tallman, the canaries being nosy, marking as spoilers but honestly there isn’t much

word count... 1654

notes… WE’RE SO BACK BABYYYYYYY if you cannot tell by my blog theming, i love pattadol, so of course i’m gonna be super excited to write for her as well!! i started this request a while ago and only finished it up recently, so I apologize if it strays a bit from the prompt by accident!! i live to create good side characters fics for you guys <3

Being as high strung as she is, there’s no way Pattadol will react well to this.

Most of her interactions outside the Canaries are purely for work purposes, and since her team never stays in one place for too long, making friends with the locals was never a priority of hers.

Truth be told, though, it only really takes one compliment to have her smitten. All her coworkers pretty much never take her seriously, so it’s a nice change of pace for someone to actually listen to her for once…

“This dungeon is currently in what we would call stage four.” The other Canaries stood a slight distance behind Pattadol, most appearing generally disinterested in a speech she had most certainly given many times before. “We separate the life cycles of dungeons into five stages from beginning to end. The fifth is the most dangerous, so we do our best to avoid it at all costs, which is why we do our best to seal the dungeon during the third or fourth stage.”

The whole time she spoke, you stood at attention, enraptured by her words. “So dungeons are like their own living organisms, then?” A bright spark danced in your eyes, burning brighter when fed this fuel of information. “I’ve never seen another adventurer think of dungeons as much except for a dangerous place with money to be made.”

She watched the way your fingers flexed while you held the hilt of your sword, but never quite unsheathed it. In fact, she’d been so engrossed by your body lactate that she squeaked in surprise when you continued.

“Your knowledge is very impressive. I see now why the elves of the west have such a widespread reputation!” After a pause, the corners of your smile rose just a bit higher to add, “however, I’m sure your individual merit is just as evident.”

“Ah!” Behind her, Cithis smirked when the shorter woman’s ears perked up. Trying to show humility at your praise, a pale hand waved in front of her. “Such is expected of someone in my position. We are all here to ensure the safety of the public!”

Though, she highly doubted there was another member of the public as pleasurable to serve as you were.

You come back each day with more questions, and, time permitting, she’s happy to answer. At times, she will have to wave you away when she’s busy with other matters, and the disappointed look on her face almost makes her wish she hadn’t.

Before any of them catch on, her coworkers are mostly either annoyed at her getting distracted or relieved to have even a moment away from her watchful eye and strict attitude.

The first to realize what’s going on is pretty much a tie between Cithis and Mithrun, though I’d say Mithrun realizes just a bit earlier, but doesn’t say anything to the others, of course.

The captain’s gaze was practically drilling holes in the back of her head, so much so that she feared she’d start getting a headache sooner or later. With no warning, he appeared at her side, and she wasn’t sure if he used teleportation or if she was simply that distracted. Nonetheless, Pattadol feigned composure and looked at her superior attentively.

“Is there anything you need, captain?”

Her expectations were some sort of order, needing directions, but certainly nowhere close to what actually fell from the captain’s lips.

“Don’t get distracted.”

If she wasn’t so busy standing stock still in embarrassment, she would’ve demanded to know what he was insinuating. Not like she needed to, of course. The subject of his statement immediately came to mind, and all she could do was furrow her brow and clamp her mouth shut.

Oh, she was doomed, wasn’t she?

As much as she wants to be, Pattadol isn’t subtle. It doesn’t take long for the rest of her coworkers to get the picture. The teasing was strong at first, happening nearly every time you two were near one another, but I think they’d get bored eventually. After all, they’ll be gone after the dungeon is sealed, and you’re a short lived race! The idea of the two of you getting together was pretty much impossible in their minds.

The rapidly approaching departure was both a blessing and a curse to Pattadol. On one hand, she wouldn’t have to endure these treacherous feelings getting in the way of her duties, and soon, the judgmental gazes of her coworkers would shift their focus away from her love life and back to her just being a “stickler”. After all, she wouldn’t even see you anymore!

But on the other hand… she wouldn’t even see you anymore.

To her own shock and horror, she actually starts looking for reasons to stay.

Now, Pattadol is literally the furthest thing from dishonest one could imagine. She would rather die than lie to the queen of all people, but if there’s something like, say, some damaged runes that can’t be read but could easily be done after the dungeon is sealed, she’ll choose to do it now under the guise of due diligence.

The other Canaries will definitely notice her demeanor changing, but a slower pace definitely isn’t a bad thing for most of them, so as long as the job gets done, they won’t exactly object.

She was supposed to be gone, wasn’t she? A confused expression took over your face when you caught sight of the long, blonde hair and the green cape. To you, she was unmistakable.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to leave this morning?” The reaction to your voice was near instant, with Pattadol’s head turning just a split second after her ears perked up in recognition of the sound. Though she was smiling, there was a hint of something apologetic in her eyes.

“Well, we were,” a stray lock of hair was moved into place as she spoke. “We ended up finding some tunes on the walls that were partially damaged, and even once the dungeon is sealed, they’ll still be of great interest to the queen, so her orders were to restore and decipher them to the best of our ability while we were still present in the area. Decided that it would be more efficient.”

After that long string of words, she inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but notice her cheeks were slightly flushed. It looked good on her.

“So you’ll be here a little longer?” Even if she hadn’t specifically requested more time at this location, she couldn’t have said no to you. Not like this, when your eyes were so hopeful and your smile so contagious.

Grinning now herself, she acquiesced to your unspoken wishes. “Of course. We value doing our work thoroughly and properly.” Your eyes met once again, and the both of you knew that wasn’t all that she had to say.

“That aside, I’m glad to be here. I’ve wanted to speak with you a bit more…..”

A confession would likely be meticulously planned out by Pattadol, each word carefully handpicked into a linguistic bouquet that could express how she feels.

Your acceptance would shock her, really. In her mind, there was such a large gap between the two of you, and considering her position, there was little chance of anything truly working out in the long term.

Trying to reassure her that the two of you could make things work might fall on deaf ears at first, considering her emotional state. Writing letters was always an option, of course, but it just didn’t feel right to do that to you. You deserve someone who could be with you every day! She wouldn’t want you to spend your life waiting for her while she was overseas carrying out the bidding of the queen….

Many nights were spent deliberating her predicament, pacing back and forth in the Canaries’ quarters while muttering to herself. So many, in fact, that her coworkers decided to help her for their own sanity.

Pattadol, was, of course, against it at first, and even more against trying to bargain for more time, but soon enough she realized that she’d have absolutely no peace of mind if she left, either.

“W-we can’t do this!” The other Canaries ignored the frantic waving of the guard’s hands, signaling in every way physically possible that she wanted this all to stop. “It’s dishonest, it’s against the code! And- and it wouldn’t even work! Better to spare me the heartache!”

From the bottom bunk bed behind the panicking blonde, Lycaon propped himself up on one arm. He observed Pattadol with a largely unamused expression, waiting for a quiet moment to say his piece.

“So you’re saying…” he waited for his superior’s head to turn towards him before continuing. “…that if you left this lover of yours as soon as humanly possible, you would feel little heartache and get over it quickly?”

The look on her face, crestfallen and lost, said all that he needed to know.

Feeling defeated, Pattadol could only hang her head and sigh. “….Just don’t do anything outrageous, please?”

The methods aside, with Mithrun’s influence as captain as well as his lack of fear towards behaving out of line goes quite a bit farther than Pattadol, who was only really willing to use believable excuses. She’s practically tripping over herself to thank them, but most of them are just happy to get a break from nonstop work. Except for Mithrun, probably, who might even try to get reassigned down the line to get back into a dungeon sooner, but that’s Mithrun for you.

When she sees you next, she’s elated, telling you that she’ll now be here for a much longer time with you! Sure, it’s only a measly ten years, but it’s something! Perhaps you can work out something more down the line?

…Huh? Why do you look so confused? Did she say something strange?