#homeless and poor men

[inutaffy]

its just crazy how a literally feminist can say "men have problems too" and people will say "wow did someone pick you" 😐 well WEEE WOOO WEEE WOO we found the problem🗣️‼️

[nenoname]

people are going theorist mode on that early tots storyboard with kid stan wearing glasses and while i'm loving it, part of me is like "....probably shouldnt burst their bubble by saying that the crew simply just changed up his design to make him more distinct from ford"

[apocalypsegay]

the way disco elysium plays with and ultimately shatters the concept of "camaraderie" in the police and the military truly is So. Good.

it introduces you to kim who is this ideal of the Brother in Arms - you meet him and you know. he'd lay it all down for you.

you then proceed to realize this is a kim thing, not a cop thing, despite the skill that informs you about it being The Cop Camaraderie skill

the rest of the cops are not just unhelpful, they're cruel. they're a boys' club of toxic masculinity, homophobia and joking about how they abuse their power, like when jean stole mustard from a homeless man. if harry begs them for help, the greatest kindness the operator can do for him is pretend he didn't hear and cut the connection to save harry's pride. the more you put into this skill, the more the rancid underbelly of policing and policemen as individuals in this system comes to light.

and that's before we get into the plot-relevant stuff, how martinaise was abandoned by jean and co because jean was too damn busy trying to make a point to harry than do his fucking job.

then there's the bond between the paramilitary squad. unlike the cops, they're tight, a family to each other, and it makes them completely immune to reason the moment the Head of their hierarchy gets murdered. and this head of theirs, the most rational, most charismatic of them all, their leader, still was a monster who, for His Men and their Morale, saw kidnapping some poor girl and offering her like a human sacrifice to the pit of animals that was his squadron as a Rational course of action.

maybe there's love there, in a way, but it's the kind of love that wholly depends on seeing your circle as the only people deserving of life, and the rest of the world as insects.

and i think abt how so many other stories that try to be cop or military critical still fall into that trap of believing that the people in these environs are a Family doing their Best, that they got each others back and thats all that they need to get through this!(whatever plot event is happening)

and not that its like. a cesspool of keeping each other in Check or maintaining that Family only by Othering the rest of the world

[catchastarorten]

—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Audience Participation

Kinktober Day 8: Hypnotism

Three Yandere Vampire Men x Feminized Male Reader CW: Noncon, vampires, vampirism, biting, blood drinking, praise kink, mind control, hypnotism, feminization, polycule, public sex, exhibitionism, public masturbation, praise, oral sex, anal sex, death of a side character, kidnapping, general yandere behavior Word Count: 3.2k

(The EXTREMELY long awaited rewrite of audience participation is here. Not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. REALLY hope this gets a good reception! Don't forget to comment <3)

You were but the humble servant of the wealthiest merchant in your city, Rorik. And he did not accrue such wealth by being kind or generous to the lowly peasants that cleaned his shops or grew the produce that he sold. No, he got his fortune by exploiting the labor of the poor. With rampant poverty in the city it was very easy to do. You were exceedingly replaceable and you had nowhere else to go. When you weren't sweeping floors, stocking shelves, or tending to the fresh produce grown out back you were in the overstuffed shack where the other male employees were stuffed. Of course it wasn't free, Rorik charged each of you a large portion of your income for this "kindness". But there was nowhere else you could afford.

Poor living conditions and low pay were certainly not the end of the abuses you had to endure at the hands of your employer either. It was not at all uncommon for Rorik to fly off the handle and get physically violent towards whichever servant was nearest.

And if all that wasn't bad enough you only got one day off every other week.

Still... it was better than being homeless and mercilessly beaten by the town guards and not having even the smallest crumb of food...

It was one of your rare days off and there just so happened to be a traveling actor's troupe in the city for the week. You had heard their performance was pretty interesting, and best of all they were doing a free performance for nothing but tips today and tomorrow. It would be set up in the town square and anyone would be able to attend. You walked into the square and stood at the edge of the crowd that had already assembled. There was a raised platform so you would be able to see okay, though hearing every detail might be an issue, but that was your fault for sleeping in a bit.

Not long after you had arrived the actors stepped onto their stage and introduced themselves. There were three of them, all men. A large muscular man named Viktor who appeared to be in his forties. He seemed gruff and grizzled, not the type you would typically expect in the theatrical arts. In stark contrast to him there was a somewhat flamboyant skinny man named Oliver who seemed to be in his mid 20s with long red hair. And the third man had an average build and medium length black hair and seemed more cold compared to the other two and looked to be around the same age as Oliver, his name was Sebastian.

The first thing they performed were some small skits that the rest of the audience really enjoyed, they didn't get such a strong reaction out of you but you still liked them. After that as a warm up they did a short play, completely with cool fire effects. It was pretty impressive how only three people managed to play such a large array of characters. And even though they had appeared gruff and cold respectively Viktor and Sebastian were very convincing in each role they played. And the costumes were simply perfect.

It was hard not to imagine being in their shoes. Traveling from city to city, trying new foods, meeting new people, getting to pretend to be someone else, always having enough money. After a few moments of fantasizing, you shook yourself out of your silly pondering and focused on enjoying the performance.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were watching the play, one of the actors was watching you. Oliver. Something about you seemed familiar, as if he had known you all his life. You captivated him, perhaps it was the rags you wore in place of shoes or your tattered clothing that reminded him of his own humble beginnings. He could tell you were daydreaming about what your life would be like if you were like them. It was plain on your face. But you really didn't know how life would be with them. The thirst for blood, skulking the shadows for a quick feed, never being able to set down roots for fear of suspicion.

They were vampires.

And if what happened next had never happened you wouldn't have had to find that out.

As you were thoroughly enjoying the performance, and Oliver was equally enjoying your eyes on him, you were suddenly smacked hard in the head. It was Rorik. And he was even less happy than usual. You cupped your head and grunted in pain.

"Why the fuck are you slacking off here!? You cannot just take your day off when one of the other peasants is sick! Take off next month, if I even fucking let you after this!!"

The shouting had caused a scene and all eyes were on you as Rorik roughly grabbed you by the arm and dragged you away. Tears streamed down your face from a combination of pain, humiliation, and frustration. You couldn't even have one day, just one, to forget your troubles.

Seeing the abuse you suffered cemented Oliver's decision. The troupe would have soon moved on for another location, but because of his previous infatuation with you now combined with seeing you abused as he once was guaranteed that he had to do something. He was sure he could convince Seb and Viktor to go along with what needed to be done. If he couldn't he would just have to push onward and do it himself.

Rorik took you to the general store, the largest of his several establishments, and shoved you in the door before leaving in a huff. You donned the uniform that you kept in the back and began another relentless shift. When it finally ended you hobbled your way to the shared shack, sobbing silently on your way. All the while being watched by three sets of eyes in the darkness. When you got to what passed for your home you washed up and went to the lump of straw you used as a bed to let the sweet void of sleep take you.

Oliver wanted to be the one to fetch you, but he also had other... "preparations" to make. He wanted to get you a little gift that he was just sure you would love. So instead it was Sebastian who was sent to get you. His ability to put people under a trance was as good as Oliver's. But it had just never been Viktor's forte. After leaving your shitty shack you began to shamble off to your job but a handsome man with cold eyes bumped into you.

"Oh hey, sorry about that."

You were going to respond but upon meeting his gaze you found yourself unable to speak. Instead you just let him take your hand and lead you towards the town square and into the outfitted wagon they used as a mobile home. It contained many props and costumes and a long cushioned bench on each side to be used as beds while traveling. Sebastian sat you down and immediately began stripping you and applying makeup before Viktor swapped in and started dressing you up in a beautiful dress. Sebastian spoke.

"We are sorry about your situation."

He brushed your cheek gently before applying a bit of blush.

"We watched you a bit and we agreed. You're going to join us. We were a bit reluctant but... Ollie convinced us..."

You could hear and understand the words but were powerless to protest under his trance. You didn't even want to. The hypnotic spell you were under muted negative emotions, so you just smiled and nodded at the nice man.

"Oliver is going to literally squeal with how pretty you look."

You smiled dumbly at that, you weren't sure why. You were a man and men did not typically wear dresses but it was nice to be thought of as pretty.

Viktor chimed in.

"Heh, yeah, he always had a thing for princesses."

"She just needs her crown."

Sebastian placed a beautiful ruby and silver tiara on you. You were still confused why they were treating you like a lady, but not enough confusion to break the spell, you just accepted it instead. Viktor explained your role.

"Hey girlypop, you're going to be in our play and your part is the princess. Don't worry, you don't have any lines to memorize."

"Yeah, just be good and act scared of the vampire and then happy when the knights come to rescue you. You can do that for us, right?"

You just smiled and nodded slightly.

"I will be playing the vampire, Ollie and Seb will be the knights."

Now that you were adorned in your princess costume Viktor and Sebastian began getting dressed in theirs.

"Oh, Vik! You remembered to tell the guards today's show was adult only right?"

Under the trance your mind vaguely wondered what was so adult about the show, but you easily pushed the thought away.

"Of course."

When Oliver came back to the others, with a box that contained the gift he had gone to get for you, he was already in his outfit. Shining plate mail that really looked authentic.

"Oh wow! She looks just so perfect, I want to take her here!"

Viktor stopped him from practically pouncing on you.

"Not yet, it'll ruin the make up! Besides, the show is about to start..."

//////////////////////

For the most part the show was a normal affair. Though quite a bit longer than the shorter plays from the day before. It started with you playing the part of a quiet melancholic princess who's somber beauty attracted the eye of a vampire lord that wanted to add you to his manor. Everything went normally until the vampire had absconded with you.

The scene after that entailed the vampire fucking the princess. And he did just that, right in front of the audience. He hitched up your dress, slathered your hole in lube and took some time to stretch you out with a couple of fingers, and then slid his cock right up into you for everyone in the crowd to see. As you were instructed you acted scared of the vampire, some of your real confusion and fear bubbling up to the surface. The audience loved your "performance", they could almost believe that you were really being held against your will and ravaged by the big bad vampire. Many of them openly masturbated at the lewd display before them, jerking their cocks or slipping fingers into their cunts as you cried and struggled and pleaded for help, not knowing or caring that you weren't a willing participant.

Though you were frightened and disoriented you weren't completely under your own will and Viktor's cock also fit into you perfectly and you couldn't help but to begin whimpering in pleasure and arching your back in need, pressing your ass back against him with each of his thrusts into you. It didn't take very much of this for your cock to twitch as you came, and it didn't take him very long after to fill you with his seed. You were in a complete daze now, barely aware of what was going on.

After showing your leaking hole to the audience your knights in shining armor showed up to rescue you from the foul blood-sucker. Sebastian "slayed" him by "stabbing" him with his mighty "sword". He fucked Viktor's face hard, to much cheering by the audience.

Now the two valiant knights carried you away from his lair. Oliver was the first to speak to you.

"Fair princess, we have rescued you! Wouldn't you like to show us a token of your appreciation?"

He looked into your eyes and pulled you further into the hypnosis. You really believed you were a princess that had been saved by a violent monster. He kissed you passionately and you returned the gesture. He removed the bottom half of his costume and guided your head to his throbbing cock, the slight musk hitting your nose before you engulfed his entire length in your warm and eager mouth.

As you were bent over sucking Oliver, Sebastian lifted up your dress and slowly pressed his cock into you, using Viktor's left over load as lube. He said some cheesy line about the princess' royal hole being very tight. You weren't really paying much attention, you were more focused on the distracting sensation of Sebastian fucking into you as Oliver gently thrust in and out of your perfect wet mouth as you continued to suck his cock. Oliver felt as though he must be in heaven, he didn't last too terribly long. How could he possibly last while you looked up at him with your lips around his dick while he felt every little murmur and twitch of pleasure being caused by Sebastian?

Sebastian lasted longer since he had already fucked Viktor's face, you came before he did while Oliver praised you for taking it so well and peppered you with kisses. Your cock throbbed and dribbled semen as he did so. When Sebastian finally finished inside of you the "knights" cleaned you up and the play wrapped up with the implication that you'd be taken back to the castle and all was well. The audience clapped, those who weren't still one handed due to masturbating. 

The vampires took you back to their spacious wagon, they had you seated comfortably before Sebastian ended the spell he had you under.

"Wh-what the hell!? Why did I do all that stuff? Why am I here? How'd you make me do all that?"

You were understandably confused and disoriented. You had a somewhat fuzzy memory of everything they had you do. All the sex in the play. Having you here alone. Just what were they and what were they after? The door to the wagon was being blocked by the muscular one, Viktor. So you couldn't just run off. Oliver was excited to talk to you.

"We saved you! You were a damsel in distress so we heroically rescued you from that vile man! Now you can be treated like a proper princess~"

The weirdo kept talking as if you were a woman. It may have made you blush if you hadn't been so traumatized by what they did to you on stage. The whole town would know within hours. It was the most humiliating violation that you had ever endured.

"Y-you drugged me somehow! Or used witchcraft! You're disgusting rapists, just let me go!"

Oliver looked dejected. It looked like Sebastian was about to yell at you but Oliver started talking again. He held out a large box that was all wrapped up for you. He stuttered and stammered, in denial about the words you had for him.

"Y-you're just shy... maybe I should have taken things slower for such a reserved l-lady. I'm sorry. B-but you'll love us, okay? I promise! We will take good care of you, I even got you a gift to commemorate our new relationship..."

You took it and began unwrapping it, not really seeing any other option.

"I'm not a girl! Stop calling me th-"

You were shocked into silence when you saw what was in the box. The bloody decapitated head of Rorik... You reeled back in shock and rolled to the floor. Oliver looked at you like a proud pet cat that was presenting you with its kill. Viktor looked away at the scene and Sebastian had his face in his palm.

"You like it right? I punished him and made him hurt a bunch for you~ Y-you like me now right?"

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ollie, I told you, most people don't like dead things as gifts... they like flowers and shit like that..."

Oliver sniffled and looked as if he might cry after considering Sebastian's words and seeing the terror on your face.

"Please just let me go, I promise not to tell anyone..." You barely managed to squeak the words out.

Oliver began crying at your insistence to be released while the other two ignored you and tried to cheer up their partner. Oliver grabbed you and pulled you into his lap while you struggled. His grip was like iron. He kept muttering something about being sorry and how he'd get you flowers and make you the happiest lady ever while nuzzling you. You were only getting ever more panicked so Sebastian calmed you down with another dose of hypnotism. It was strong enough to make you enjoy Oliver's touches and reciprocate by leaning into his chest.

"We... may have have messed up by having sex with her so soon... not everyone enjoys being on stage I guess... should have gone slower. Let's just keep them enthralled while she gets to know us! See Ollie? She already stopped struggling."

"Yeah Oliver, just give your little doll time to adjust. Moving in with her new boyfriends is a big step in a relationship. Once you turn her she'll probably be so grateful that she'll be obsessed with us!"

Oliver was convinced. He would just be patient. You could be turned by morning.

"Yeah, you'll love being a vampire! It isn't so fun not being able to stay in one place for very long, and of course blood takes some getting used to... but it's so much better than what you were dealing with and you have us with you too! You'll see we are your heroes and then we'll make love allllll day, it'll be amazing."

Vampires? That should have set alarm bells off in your head, but it didn't. Probably because you were "enthralled" as Sebastian mentioned. Vampires were considered very rare, is that really what they were...? As if on cue, Oliver sank his fangs into your neck. You flinched but then moaned softly. All Oliver had to do was drain you nearly to death then feed you some of his own blood. If he sired you it would give the two of you a special bond and you'd be much more likely to love him.

You clung to him as you faded into unconsciousness, he laid you down carefully and bit his wrist, he allowed a few drops of blood to drip into your mouth. To say he was excited would have been an understatement. He finally had a pretty girlfriend he could dress up like a living doll and bounce on his cock. And he sired you, so not only would you share a soul bond, but you would also still be susceptible to his hypnotism, should he ever need it.

If you ever resisted him he would just subtly change your outlook on things and overtime you would genuinely fall for all three of them. Oliver and Sebastian watched you rest as the vampirism took hold while Viktor went to the front of the wagon to begin the journey to the next town, you would never see your hometown again.

[secretmaniacc]

AAAA I love your writing so much!!!

HEHE I have a smut request for The Salesman

Backstory; Female y/n always see the salesman doing his job at the station. She even played with him one time and won however she never accepted the card. As the days goes by they will greet each other with a simple nod gesture or smile sometimes even small chat before he finds his new victim and she’s heading back home.

UNTIL

She overheard the two recruits Gi-hun hired (I forgot their names oops) planning to hurt the salesman (I know the plot they weren’t supposed to approach him but let’s pretend Gi-hun give them a task to kidnap and torture salesman hehehe)

So y/n ran back to the station and disrupted salesman while he was in the middle of slapping the poor homeless dude. Talking gibberish to him. He has no clue what the hell she’s talking about bc she’s out of breath from running and talking too fast. He’s just confused. When y/n saw the two men again approaching their way. She grabs salesman head and kissed him. [I hope you seen the scene of captain America and black widow kissing to display discomfort so the bad guys won’t catch them at the mall hahaha basically like that scene]

He pulled back looking even more confused. She said display of affection make people uncomfortable, as soon as she said that he looked up and saw the two men walking past them. Y/n felt embarrassed and ran home. In the middle of the night someone was banging her door. She opened it and…..SMUT TIME HEHEHE

Also I’m terribly sorry for my grammar English is not my native language :’)

[also if you do accept can you send me a message 🙈 ty heheh]

SLOW DOWN

pairings: the salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: A routine night at the train station takes a dark turn when you overhear two men plotting to attack the mysterious salesman you’ve casually crossed paths with before. Acting on impulse, you intervene in the only way you can—by kissing him to throw off his pursuers. What seems like a reckless moment of instinct pulls you into his dangerous world.

Warnings: language, violence (kinda), Dom!salesman x sub!reader, praising, whipped cream kink, kissing, mentions of blood, fingering, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, talking you through it.

Wc: 3k

A/n: you ask I deliver, hope you like it, not proofread <33

The sharp snap of skin colliding with skin echoes through the crowded station. You barely flinch. You've heard it before. Too many times.

Across the station, he stands on the cold tile floor—immaculate suit, polished shoes, that same unsettling grin. He raises his hand and slaps the man across from him again. Sharp. Precise.

Another one hooked.

You lean against the metal pillar, watching. You know this game. You’ve played it before.

It was a week ago.

The station hummed with the dull buzz of flickering lights and the occasional metallic screech of trains crawling in and out. You were late. Work had dragged on longer than usual, and by the time you reached the platform, the last train was dragging its heels. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and damp concrete.

That’s when you saw him.

The man in the pristine suit.

He stood out like a polished coin in a pile of rusted change. His black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and that too-perfect smile stretched across his face like it had been painted on. He leaned casually against a pillar, holding two small folded squares of paper—one red, one blue.

He caught your eye, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then, with a subtle flick of his wrist, he gestured to the empty space across from him. His movements were practiced, smooth, as if this routine had been rehearsed countless times.

Curiosity gnawed at you before logic could interfere. You found yourself walking toward him, footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

“Want to play a game?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic. He held up the two folded papers between his fingers, the colors dull under the harsh station lights.

 “Seriously?” You eyed him warily.

“It’s simple. Flip my tile with yours. If you win, I’ll give you 100,000 won. If I win…” His smile widened, just enough to feel unsettling. “I slap you.”

You scoffed, folding your arms. “That’s it? No tricks?”

“No tricks.” His tone didn’t waver.

Against better judgment, you stood. The game was straightforward, deceptively so. The first round, you won. The second, too. His tile moving frantically under your strikes. His face remained unchanged, though, as if he expected this. Not a single slap coming your way. He handed over the cash with a flick of his wrist, the money slipping into your palm like silk.

Then came the card.

A brown rectangle with a circle, triangle, and square etched in black. He held it out casually, like an afterthought.

“What’s this?” you asked, fingers hovering over it.

“A bigger game. A chance to win more.”

His voice dipped, something darker coiled beneath his words. A chill crept up your spine. You smirked, flicking the card back at him with two fingers.

“Not interested.”

The card fluttered to the ground, but he didn’t look offended. No, he only chuckled, kneeling down and slipping it back into his pocket.

Since then, you saw him often.

Always at the station. Always playing his game with some poor soul desperate enough to take the bait. Your interactions became routine—brief nods, and smiles the occasional quip when you caught him mid-game.

But tonight was different.

You are leaned against a pillar, letting the cold seep into your back. The station was quieter than usual, the shadows thicker. That’s when you heard them.

Two men by the vending machines, their voices low but sharp.

“That’s him. The guy in the suit.”

“Yeah. Just like boss said. We follow him out, grab him, torture him, make him talk. He knows everything.”

Your stomach twisted. Shit.

Without thinking, you pushed off the pillar and sprinted across the station, boots slapping against the concrete. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the cold air burning your lungs.

He didn’t notice you until you were right in front of him.

“You need to leave. Now.”

His hand paused mid-slap, hovering above the cheek of a nervous man. Slowly, his head turned to you, one brow lifting.

“Excuse me?” His tone was calm, almost amused.

You leaned in, speaking low and fast. “Those two men by the vending machines? They’re coming for you. You need to trust me and leave.”

His eyes didn’t move, but something shifted in his posture. He blinked slowly, considering you.

“I don’t know what you’re saying”

Frustration flared. You glanced back. The two men were moving now, angling toward you both.

“Shit,” you muttered. Thinking fast, you did the first thing that came to mind.

You grabbed his face and kissed him.

His entire body stiffened, muscles locking beneath your hands. The world around you seemed to freeze. The station noise dulled to a distant hum.

You pulled back abruptly, heart pounding in your ears. His wide eyes stared into yours, utterly confused.

“Display of affection,” you muttered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “Makes people uncomfortable.”

His gaze flicked past you. The two men hesitated, awkwardly glancing away as they veered off in the opposite direction.

A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened, smoothing down his tie.

“Clever.”

Your face burned. "I’m sorry, I had to do that, but you need to get out of the station."

Without another word, you turned and bolted, weaving through the crowd and up the station steps. You didn’t stop until the cold night air hit your face.

---

It was well past midnight when the banging started.

You jolted awake, heart slamming against your ribs. Someone was pounding on your door, relentless.

You hesitated, fingers brushing over the baseball bat by your bed. But you decided to leave it, Slowly, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole.

It was him.

The man in the suit.

Your blood ran cold, before you unlocked the door cautiously, opening it just a crack.

“What the hell—”

He pushed the door wider, stepping in uninvited. That same unnerving smile stretched across his face.

“We need to talk.”

His tone left no room for argument.

You stared, unsure whether to slam the door in his face or listen.

“About what?” you asked nervously

His smile widened just a fraction.

“About why you tried saving my life.”

His voice was smooth, but something darker lurked beneath it. You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how small your apartment felt with him standing there. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. And another. Closing the door behind him.

Instinctively, you backed up.

His eyes never left you, scanning you with unnerving precision. The thin fabric of your pajama shorts and the loose strap of your shirt felt far too revealing under his gaze. Like he was undressing you. Heat crept up your neck, but you couldn’t look away.

“You ran all that way... just to save me?” His tone was low, edged with amusement, but there was something sharp underneath. He tilted his head, taking another step closer, as you backed up again. "Tell me, was it bravery... or something else?"

“I—uh... I just thought—”

“You thought what?” he interrupted smoothly, still moving forward, now closing the space between you. “That I couldn’t handle a few men?”

You felt your breath catch. Your heel bumped into the cold tile of the kitchen counter. Shit. Nowhere else to go.

He noticed.

“I killed them, you know.”

Your eyes snapped to his face. The casual way he said it made your stomach twist.

“Oh, yes.” His smirk deepened. “It was... enjoyable.”

Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to the dark stains on his shirt. Blood.

The air thickened. Your breathing turned shallow, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He was too close now.

His hands came up slowly—deliberately—and planted themselves on either side of you, caging you in against the counter. The cool edge of the countertop bit into your lower back.

He leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over the curve of your neck. His scent—metallic, faintly sweet, and something darker—wrapped around you. One of his hands slid, gliding over your waist, fingers curling to pull you forward against him, eliminating even the smallest sliver of space between you. And that’s when you felt him.

“You should be more careful who you save,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not everyone is grateful.”

Before you could react, his hands shifted with unsettling ease, gripping your hips. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, setting you on the cold countertop. You gasped, instinctively gripping the edge, your legs parting as he stepped between them, locking you in.

His eyes bored into yours, and for a fleeting second, you couldn’t decide if it was fear or something else that sent a shiver down your spine.

“So, tell me,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. "Why did you really save me?"

His hand traced slowly along your thigh, barely touching, yet burning. You couldn’t answer. Your mind screamed for words, but your lips stayed parted, breathless.

And his smirk deepened, eyes flicking past you to something on the counter that you forgot to remove earlier. Slowly, he reached over without breaking eye contact. His fingers curled around the can of whipped cream, lifting it with casual ease. 

Your brows knit in confusion. "What are you—" 

Before you could finish, he brought the nozzle to his lips and pressed down. The soft hiss filled the air as the white cream curled into his mouth. He swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“Sweet,” he murmured, voice smooth and dark. His eyes dragged lazily over you, settling on your parted lips. “But it could taste better.” 

Before the words could settle, his hand moved—calloused fingers tilting your chin up. His thumb and forefinger gently hooked under your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. The cool metal of the can brushed your skin, and a soft stream of whipped cream slid onto your tongue. 

You barely had a moment to react before his mouth crashed into yours. 

The kiss was fierce, and unapologetic. His lips moulded to yours, but it wasn’t enough—his tongue pushed past your lips, exploring every corner of your mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness, tangling with your tongue in a heated rhythm. 

Your breath hitched, and your hands instinctively gripped his shirt, knuckles brushing against the dried blood you hadn’t dared to question yet. fisting the fabric as his kiss deepened. He groaned low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through you, spurring him on. 

His tongue teased and stroked against yours, pulling soft, involuntary sounds from you. Every movement was calculated, demanding, as if he wanted to taste every bit of you, not just the sweetness on your lips. 

When he finally pulled back, your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips slick and swollen. A trail of saliva between you.

But he wasn’t finished. 

The can hissed again—this time against the sensitive skin of your neck. A cold trail of cream dripped along your pulse point, making you shiver. 

Then his mouth was on you—hot and unrelenting. His tongue flicked over the sticky trail, licking it up slowly, savouring the taste of cream and skin. His teeth grazed your throat, nipping just enough to make you moan. 

A low chuckle rumbled against your neck as his lips latched on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. 

His grip tightened around your waist, your legs wrapped around his hips without thinking, drawing him impossibly closer. 

His breath ghosted over your ear, deep and rough. 

“See?” he murmured, tongue lightly tracing the shell of your ear. “It tastes so much better this way.”

He was breathing closer to your ear, lingering over your neck for moments before his lips pressed against you again.

You moaned out softly to how he was kissing your bare shoulders, down to the blade of them, then back up, “damn it,” his notes were so low, “fuck”

“What?” you finally managed to say, pushing against him a bit, the feeling immaculate, you could feel how hard he is pressing against you, and you can barely breathe.

“you’re so fucking sweet.”

The tension is thickening around you, the heat in your bodies is too much to ignore, you couldn’t stand against it, you couldn’t stand against him, he was just so addicting in a way you couldn’t quite place.

The very instant you felt his lips on your skin again, the warmth of his body, you couldn’t hold it back. Arching your back, pushing thighter against him, you could rupture at how he was teasing at the hem of your shorts, “take them off.”

He pulled the fabric down frantically, a thud to the ground, before slipping his fingers below the lace material of your underwear, and you gasped, your body tensing close to his the very instant he came in contact with your clit, “so wet f’me”

You nearly moaned, huffing sweetly at his touch and the circles he made, “the things I have in my mind for you.” His hand gently started cupping your breast. He had you in such a hold now that you could barely move.

Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head, it was the tension his voice held.

He let his middle finger inside you as far as he could reach, you spread your tight a bit further apart allowing him more of you.

“Mhm? Right there, yeah?” he growled, nearly moaning himself at the way you moved. “fuck, you’re so soaked.”

You couldn't even hear him properly. your mind wasn't working further than to what his hand was doing to you. He moved steadily in and out of you, curling his finger right where it would have you shaking. His thumb brushed across your clit every now and then, and you couldn't focus.

''Yeah,'' he muttered, nibbling at your earlobe, ''Be my beautiful girl and let me feel you.''

you reached out tangling your fingers into his black strands, and it didn't take long until you was a moaning mess under his touch. Your hips spasmed. Your breathing levelled heavier, and you gasped repeatedly. It was music to his ears, a never-ending orchestra.

''Now I want to know, do you want to continue'' he withdrew his touch from your core, forcing his hand down between you. “I won’t, if you don’t want to”

Without thinking your fingers intestinally wrapped around the loop of his belt, confidence build up as you tugged at it forward. “I want to.” You breathed before loosening his belt, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the kitchen.

He took over impatiently zipping his pants down, before freeing his throbbing erection from his boxers as he pushed the material aside.

Taking his cock in his hand and you moved with him. You was still facing him, your chest pressed against his front as he lifted your thigh, giving him everything he could need from you.

''To think I’ve always fantasized about this moment,'' he hissed as he dragged his cock up and down your soaked slit. Teasing by pushing forward and creating unbearable friction against your clit, ''I thought that after that night, I would never see you again, yet you kept showing up, flashing me those smiles, making my mind drive me insane, fuck—''

You exhaled, thundery. You couldn't shape a word at the pleasure he is putting you through even if you wished to do so. you simply whined. body shaking.

Pushing into you, a bit at the time, he bit down your bare shoulder, needing to ease his own tension, “You're like a cigarette at midnight—dangerous, burning slow, and impossible to put down."

He moved his hand over your hip, lifting your leg more, “And the worst part? You know it’ll ruin you—leave you hollow and wrecked—but fuck, you’re already leaning in, desperate for that first hit, craving the way it burns and numbs you all at once.”

You threw your head back, tensing your fingers into his hair as he fucked you on the countertop. It was hard. He fucked you roughly yet with so much passion. It was intimate, emotional. His body moved with yours— your body obeyed his.

“...and that’s the real addiction, isn’t it? Not the rush, not the aftermath—but the waiting. The wanting. Knowing it’ll destroy you and still craving every second before it does.'' He was speaking so low to you, plunging his cock in and out of you, forcing your body to take what he gave.

You whimpered, your fingers clawing at his neck now, ''please—''

He pushed harder. Forced his cock deeper, reached further.

''And not to speak about this fucking cunt...'' He moaned, drawing his tongue along the arch of your neck, ''I can't really blame myself if I get hooked, can I?''

you breathed out. Your eyes rolling, your back curling, ''Please. I can't take it—''

''One taste of this, and you're fucking addicting.'' The hand supporting your leg slid lower until the back of your knee rested in the curve of his elbow, and he spaced your thighs more, diving into you depths and losing his mind over how hot and tight you were around him.

''I'm—''

He was relieved by that. He could barely hold himself together at the tension between you, the fusion and mix of need and thirst of your bodies. He slowed his movements, not bucking his hips as roughly anymore, and you were close. So close.

''Fucking hell—'' He groaned against your shoulder again, burying his head into the soft spot of your neck. He came the second he felt you pulsating around him. The instant he felt your release around him, he came just as crashing down as you'd done.

Breathing heavily, he pulled out, stepping back just a bit as he dragged your worn out body forward. It was a moment, if so a short, little one, where your cheek rested against his chest, and his lips pushed into the top of your head. That tiny moment felt good. It felt calm and reassuring to both of you.

“thanks, for keeping me alive.”

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Please, Master, let me go out and make more money for you today! I want more! I need to please more men, ooo you can take me to that homeless shelter and drop me off for the night so I can satisfy those poor, lonely men! And maybe catch a new bug or two! ❤️"

"Tiffany, I just spent an hour cleaning all that cum and piss off you, you filthy little whore. I can't let you back out, my pet."

"Awww, please! I need cock! I want to make you lots and lots of money, it's my purpose, Master! Please, I beg you!"

"Ughhhh, so bratty. I didn't think you'd turn out this way. I guess a few years of mindless sex and pushing out kids has turned your poor brain to mush. OK, I better let you go."

"Let me go, what do you mean, Master?"

The man snapped his fingers four times in quick succession.

Tiffany blinked a few times, confused, suddenly realizing she's naked. She covered her breasts, completely horrified. "Oh my god, what the fuck is going on!? Huh? My body......? My boobs are huge! Why do I have so many tattoos? I don't under--my belly! No, no, no, no, no! I can't be pregnant, what happened!?" She looked up. "Who are you, why would you.... wait, no...... I know you. You were that magician."

He gestured like he was tipping his hat. "At the county fair. Remember how skeptical you were?"

"Wait, no way. You actually hypnotized me!? I never would've gotten on that stage if any of this was real! You monster, what did you do to me?"

"What day is it? And how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen! It's June 22nd, 2022!"

"Wrong, my pet, you're 22, it's June 16th, 2025."

Tiffany loosened her arms around her engorged breasts. "How could you..... I just thought you'd do some dumb trick, you hypnotized me for three years, into what? Your girlfriend? And did you seriously knock me up? That's disgusting!"

"You aren't my girlfriend, you're my plaything. You were so annoying on stage, not playing along at all, not flirting, not having fun with my show, you just folded your arms and acted so nasty to me and my audience, I simply had to put you in your place. And I didn't get you pregnant, you sleep with hundreds of men every week, there's simply no way of knowing who the father is. Oh, and this is your fourth pregnancy, you've already given birth to fourteen children. Triplets. Quintuplets, and sextuplets. You're actually only five months along right now so you might very well be carrying octuplets for all I know."

Tiffany was devastated, rubbing her thighs together. She felt her big pregnant belly, she looked at her breasts and tattoos. "I feel.... hot."

"Hm? The bath's probably lukewarm at best now."

"No, I--oh......" Tiffany reached between her legs, to her extremely swollen, over-fucked, disease-ridden pussy. "Oh my god! It hurts! It itches so good.... wow!"

"Yeah, you probably have every STD in the book. As my pet you were quite proud of getting them."

"I can see why..... I mean, um, this is so gross! I can't believe you did this to..... mmmmmmm. Oh wow." Tiffany giggled, shamelessly rubbing her sex in the bath, right in front of her captor. "It never used to feel this good! Oh my god, oh fuck. I think...... sir, I really think I need sex. Do I take drugs, too? I think I need some....."

"Indeed, you're quite partial to taking a big dose of heroin, getting so high you're barely conscious, and letting a whole club or bar's worth of men fuck your brains out all night..... You don't seriously want to go back to any of these behaviors, right?"

"Uh-huh!" Tiffany enthusiastically nodded, licking her lips. "Am I still in college? Doesn't matter, ooooo, I can't wait to show my new body to my friends and family and show them what a whore I am! Do you think I can go out after my bath and take my new body out on a test run? I don't know how good I'll be at making money for you anymore, but I'll try, Master!"

"I knew three years was too long....." He sighed. "Poor thing, I really scrambled your independent, clever brain. I guess you're my responsibility now. I was going to do some shows and train a new girl instead...."

"Let's do it! I can be your assistant! Then I can have a slutty sister I teach to whore with me, and we can get pregnant together, and rub our swollen, diseased pussies together! Won't that be wonderful?"

The man drained the water, patting Tiffany's body. "OK, my pet, I'll get you reacclimated to your duties as my whore. And get you a sister or two to have fun with later this week."

"You're the best Master a dumb, cock-obsessed slut like me could ever ask for!"

[moonbaby26]

Title: Blood and Feathers

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairing: Rosinante/Corazon x Fem!Reader x Doflamingo

Warnings: language, non con, dub con, size difference, reader is cheated on (not by the brothers), reader is stalked/abducted, reader is double teamed, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, animal instincts/behaviors, blood, violence, toxic relationships, breeding kink

Synopsis: Set in a modern!AU. You are an avian veterinarian dealing with a recent life upheaval. Years ago, you also had a traumatic experience with creatures mainstream science still denies as even existing. But memories of that night were soon buried, relegated to your dreams alone. Or so you had thought.

A/N: This oneshot was inspired both by @tuquidflamingo‘s gorgeous Harpy!Doffy fanart for Doffytober2024 Day 24:Mythical Here, and @froggiewrites’s terrifyingly sexy Siren!Doffy fic Mating Call Here. I needed more bird!Donquixotes after seeing those works and could not restrain myself. This was originally intended as monster/horror themed for Halloween as well, but I’m way late to the party (as usual 😅).

Fic Masterlist

—————————

“You poor darling. The boys haven’t been very nice to you have they?” You frowned to your newest patient. A female dove, slightly fearful in your grip as you held her gently from behind in a small towel within your hand.

The hallmarks of overbreeding were evident to you in all the missing feathers near the back of her head. 

Some single minded Lotharios within her previous enclosure had plucked her practically raw while doing their overeager business on her from behind no doubt.

“Remember. Men are all the same, sweetheart. They only care about one thing.” You mumbled, not particularly worried of how bitter you still sounded while you felt her chest and keel bone next. That bone’s prominence signaling her being rather underweight to your additional concern. 

Not that you’d been eating much either, or maintaining a healthy mindstate at all. Just like hers, your life had also gone quite to shit recently.

Just two days ago you’d come home early, only to find your boyfriend of the last few years balls deep and moaning within the newest assistant from his law office.

And you’d thought he really was going to have a heart attack when he’d finally seen you standing there.

But his new young lover had only smiled, cool as anything.

“Oops.” She’d said, still on top of your fiancé and almost sweetly staring over her shoulder at you.

Her long fingernails had left trails of raised scratches all over his chest and sides. Which you’d seen so distinctly as he’d sat up in a panic to plea to you.

Of course, there would have been no way he could have hidden that evidence later even if you hadn’t caught them in the act. 

As you’d dragged suitcases out and begun throwing what you could into them, he’d had the gall to swear to you too that it was both his first and last time with her. 

He’d even tried to blame her, as if he’d had no say in it all.

But you’d just taken your engagement ring off and thrown it so hard it’d ricocheted off of the wall and rolled to God knew where.

To whatever void your trust and self confidence had now plummeted into most likely.

Yet the apartment lease had only been in his name. So in just that single afternoon, you’d gone from daydreams of a winter wedding to officially homeless and with mascara running down both sides of your face. All with strangers staring at you on your march of shame back through the parking garage.

You didn’t even tell anyone afterward. Because you’d had no one close enough to you to tell.

You were living out of a hotel room now. Nowhere to land as of yet as you’d still went to your normal veterinary job uptown during the day. And to this volunteer time at the avian rehab center just outside of the city each night. 

The only consistently listening ears for you now were sick and troubled birds. Either domestic seizures from hoarding and animal cruelty cases like this dove, or sometimes just wild raptors and waterfowl that’d had an acute turn of bad luck.

You’d seen it all at one point or another. But every day was different. And yet only more of the same all at once.

Until tonight, when it absolutely wasn’t.

You were here alone. Staying much later than you normally would, because the company of the birds was still better than hearing your neighbors arguing through those thin hotel walls that were now all you had to go back to.

Besides this dove’s occasional cooing, and your own words of continued self pity, you also had a constant rotation of true crime podcasts, murder mysteries, and tales of the supernatural droning on from your phone still on the counter. 

It was very fitting for a rainy, cold night like this one.

And in a bit of a playful holiday segment in between those longer tales, it was then some of those two sentence horror stories.  

The narrator had just read one of your favorites in their best Vincent Price impersonation. 

“The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. 

There was a knock on the door.”

You smirked of course. Your imagination flooding with all that unnamed man’s possible fates and an idea that he may actually deserve them now, before the lights abruptly went out above you.

Both you and the dove had startled with that plunge into darkness. But under the dim glow of the battery backup lights which came on after, around the fire exit signs, you quickly silenced those additional horror teases from your phone.

“Maybe they missed a power bill again.” You’d told the dove softly as you’d returned her to the temporary holding cages. 

Funding was always tight for a non profit like this. People just weren’t as giving when sick vultures and irritable corvids didn’t end up as marketable as sad kittens on the donation commercials.

But, this could also be the universe’s sign for you to give in and go home.

Wherever the hell home was supposed to be now.

You’d pulled your exam gloves inside out, trashing them before washing and drying your hands.

A coat, purse, and umbrella were all you had to gather before walking into that now near pitch black hallway.

There was only the slight squeak of your shoes on the linoleum floor for those few precious seconds of normalcy you’d had left. 

And then came the first metal bang.

Like a knock.

And the next one which followed it. 

Echoing through the darkness before you.

Something heavy and urgent was slamming against the metal door which led to the rear parking lot.

The parking lot that backed up to the woods. Where your car and thereby only way back to the city now was.

Even then, the logic in you still refused to fully slip however. Though your heart did beat far faster in your confusion.

You could hear many birds beginning to rustle in their cages in other rooms, bothered by the new noises as well.

You wanted to comfort them, but you knew they wouldn’t understand.

Did you even understand?

You still had your phone of course. You could call the police and just wait here, locked inside if you were actually that afraid.

But outside of the city limits like this, response time would be awful unless you’d be lucky enough that a random patrol car may be nearby.

You didn’t want some judgmental cop showing up thirty minutes from now, to look at you like you were a complete idiot if you said just being in the dark with strange noises was enough to have you needing rescue.

Your hand was already in your purse though, fingers around the beveled case of your phone as everything went silent again.

And then you heard the door pull open.

That door was an exit only. If another volunteer had forgotten something or come back this late for any other reason, they’d have taken the side path up to the front and unlocked the front door instead just as you had a couple of hours ago.

There was no key to the back door. It was always locked on the outside.

Unless the latch had just been broken off.

Which would explain the banging.

Your heart was moving into your throat by then as you’d sidestepped into the nearest room in the dark.

It was this facility’s single operating room.

And by some grace above you didn’t run into anything. You squatted with your back to the wall as you fumbled to pull your phone fully from your purse.

You couldn’t remember if the emergency dispatch in this area was setup to accept text messages like they could in the city.

If you spoke into this silence to call someone, it’d be the equivalent to screaming though.

Your hands were shaking as you typed instead.

And it was additionally cruel really.

Because your mind hadn’t yet overwritten years worth of habit, even as much as he’d hurt you.

You found yourself texting your ex.

<break in. call police. the rehab. help>

Your fingers moved faster than you thought you’d ever commanded them to then. You’d hit send and watched as that message changed to delivered.

And then…

You heard that stupid trill of his phone from the hallway. 

That custom alert you’d heard far too many times to count as his phone had always gone off at all hours from important clients in the duration you’d been together.

Your brain stuttered.

And you heard a female’s laugh.

“Oh, that is embarrassing…” Said the somehow familiar female voice. It was equal parts amusement and mockery now. “She’s still here alright.”

And then a man whose voice you did not recognize, called your name outright before you could think any further. “Please, (Y/N)…there’s no reason to make this harder than it has to be. Please just come out. We’re not going to hurt you.”

But the woman quickly disagreed with him. “No. He said we could do this however we needed to. We’d still be outside in the rain if it was all up to you.”

“Be silent. I’m trying to listen.” The man retorted, yet with his voice lowering to match her own irritation.

“Hmm…no. Not needed. I already smell her.” Came her even sharper response after just another moment. 

And you heard something clicking on the tile at that, faster than you could believe as it ran closer.

“Monet!” The male voice was right behind it though, dropping into a range more akin to a snarl before a shadow came bursting through that open operating room door towards you.

You knew her name.

In the emergency lighting you only had a moment to see a glimpse of her once beautiful face too, contorted into a ferocity more akin to a rabid animal before she lunged down to meet you at your still crouched position. 

Her slender hand had closed around your airway as if it were all second nature.

Fingernails too sharp to be real dug in as she forced your back onto the ground.

You were choking. And staring up into the now wild eyes of your ex-fiancé’s young assistant.

Monet.

The girl he’d fucked right in front of you just two days ago.

But then she was gone. Swatted away as if she were nothing in one audible hit.

Your throat was still stinging, scratched but not wholly cut as you tried to sit up in a renewed rush of adrenaline.

“Just take her car and go goddammit! You’re going to tear this place apart if you can’t control yourself! This is exactly why I wanted you to wait outside!” That male voice now had a clear source as well. He stood easily over the both of you. Still with his hand that had struck her splayed out like a claw.

What had to be light blond hair hung messily in his angry eyes as he took your purse and threw it at her.

“Take her car back to her hotel! Keep her phone, and make sure she didn’t call anyone!”

It was like he was scolding a child now, as if she had already been told a thousand times how this all should be.

But she was panting, smiling at him even as she did.

“I just want a taste…for all of our trouble.” She breathed.

And he stepped further between the two of you.

“I said no.”

She hissed through her teeth, but you saw him straighten up in response. His lean body seeming to tighten even more in the dark.

“Go!” And that order was truly a snarl from him that time.

Her eyes widened and she clawed the floor, briefly on all fours before scurrying back up. 

You could not see her feet clearly in the shadows, but you heard them.

That same clicking sound that had come from the hall before she’d run in.

Like talons moving across the ground.

You didn’t realize how much you were still shaking either before that man’s rock solid grip had grabbed you next.

You were pulled up by your arm.

And Monet was already gone with your purse, meaning she had your keys and phone as well.

She’d had your ex’s phone too.

Was he even alive any longer?

A sound of desperation left you as this tall man forced you down the hall and to that exit door they’d first broken in through.

You’d known it all had to be purposeful then. 

When the power had been cut, the two outdoor security cameras would have gone down as well.

No one would ever see him dragging you out of this door and into the rainy night.

They’d likely waste days interviewing people at the hotel instead once Monet returned your car there.

People you’d never even made eye contact with long enough for them to remember your face would just shrug and say they hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

No one would ever find your body.

“Walk.” His voice was still harsh as he’d hurried you outside, across the parking lot, and immediately down a muddied path into the woods.

It wasn’t clear which direction he’d even taken you in after just a few minutes.

In the dark, the trails all looked the same. And you could only watch as his clothes hung on him, dripping in the light rain.

The forest had gone silent save for that rain and the two of you. As all animals often quieted when an apex predator moved through.

He was oddly barefoot too, striding across the wet and fallen leaves. Just in pants and a t-shirt which now stuck across his broad chest.

“You really don’t remember me at all, do you?” He asked suddenly.

And you were still floundering mentally, trying to keep up with his long legs in the darkness.

“My real name is Rosinante.” He said in lack of any answer from you though. “We’ve met before.” And his large hand squeezed your arm tighter. 

He sounded like his frustration was only growing. His next words were especially accusatory. “If I’d had any idea you were still this close to the mountains…why didn’t you leave?”

His grip hurt, and you were stumbling often now, just trying to keep up.

“I don’t…I don’t know what you want.” You stammered, sounding so pathetic that it easily could have been a stranger’s voice in your ears then.

“I didn’t want him to find you!” He shot back. And at last his relentless pace began to slow. “I thought you moved away! Why the hell would you come back here!?”

And only then was something finally beginning to click within your memories. 

Because it was that desperation in his voice. 

Even if that tone was so much deeper now than the boy’s it reminded you of.

“…Cora?” You asked, your eyes wide while you stared up at this frightening man.

But he looked like something had just broken within him as you’d called him that. He’d stopped walking entirely, and you saw the true pain which crossed his face.

A lean, handsome face, with messy blond hair and rainwater dripping down in a way that could have easily been mistaken for tears.

Tears just like the young blond you’d found crying alone in the forest one summer.

The teen who’d said he didn’t know what to do any longer. And that he’d missed his parents so much and he just couldn’t keep pretending.

You’d thought he was a runaway. But he’d seemed so close to your own age, you hadn’t ratted him out to your aunt and cousins you’d been staying with in the mountain cabin that summer.

You’d snuck him food instead, and for those few months that summer break, you had hiked out to visit him every day at your and his secret rendezvous spot.

Eventually he’d said you could call him Corazon, or Cora for short. It meant “heart” in Spanish. The native language from wherever he had really fled from. And a nickname his late mother had given him.

Her little heart.

But he had a big one. Because he was so kind to you. Something you hadn’t been used to. And you’d both loved exploring and talking together for hours on end.

He’d even taught you a special whistle and song he’d said had also come from his mother and original home.

And so often at night you would hear that sound as you’d snuck from your bedroom to see him over and over again.

He’d known you loved birds by then. That you had dreams of going to school to learn more to help as many of them as you could someday.

But when you’d follow that special sound to find him at night, he’d also point right to where any owl or other raptor you’d missed during the day was hiding that he had found. 

Just so that you could see them too.

But near the end of that summer, you’d told him you’d have to be going back to the city soon. School would be starting again. You hadn’t finished high school yet. But you’d definitely come back next summer before going to college. You’d promised him that.

He’d seemed so sad regardless though, and that had hurt you too.

He’d even disappeared for a few days. You had gotten worried.

But on one of those last nights, you’d heard that special sound again.

So of course you had rushed to it.

But Corazon hadn’t been there.

A laugh had come from above you instead in the darkness.

One you could never forget just before you’d thought part of a tree had somehow fallen down on you.

Because your breath had been gone, a heavy weight impacting your chest with a crack of your ribs.

You couldn’t even scream. The splayed claws that had first struck your chest, had then spread for thin legs to straddle you as your back had hit the dirt.

And then it had bitten you.

Straight through your shirt and over the top of your shoulder. 

Your arms had come up uselessly as those fangs had sunken in.

Yet one of your hands had raked against thick, soft feathers, while the other had caught into spiked blond hair.

Utterly nonsensical in those contrasting parts between human and animal as its wings had encircled you.

But the creature had groaned at your every touch. With its long tongue then lapping at your blood running from the flesh it had broken.   

All while bony hips in torn capris pants had begun to move purposefully against your pajamas.

You hadn’t known what to do. 

You’d just remembered feeling warm.

But so afraid.

And confused.

And then a furious screech like no bird you had ever heard, came diving down like retribution from the sky. 

Loud enough that your attacker had had to look upward. His young face framed in your blood within the moonlight while he’d grinned to the heavens.

He’d been terrifying.

He’d also been beautiful.

But the two monsters had collided. Wings had scraped the ground, flapping violently while talons had tangled, striking each other’s bare torsos over and over as they’d rolled away from you.

The sounds had been fully inhuman, hissing and screaming with splatters of their blood then mixing with yours already on the ground.

Yet you’d been frozen amongst that raw violence.

“Go!” The one with the solid black wings had called out hoarsely though. While it’d tried to even briefly pin down the other one that had attacked you. That slightly larger creature whose wings had been both a dark pink and black.

The one that had still had pieces of your skin within his scowling maw.

“Please! Go and never come back!” The finality and heartbreak in that plea from your strange protector had also been seared into your memories that night.

The same voice that was now years older, with eyes that much sadder as Corazon still stared down at you in the present day.

“It is you.” You spoke in quiet shock. “You’re okay.”

“Why would you come back!?” He demanded again though, regardless of your sudden realization. “He saw your face in all those damned pictures Monet brought to him! He’s been trying to get leverage on everyone from the district attorney’s office all year. Information about their spouses, their kids, and…”

He sneered. His teeth had grit together. And you’d never seen that expression on Corazon.

He was so angry with you.

“You were really going to marry that spineless piece of shit from the D.A.’s office!? He sold you out in a heartbeat! Where you worked, where you were staying…everything. Doffy didn’t even have to touch him! He works for him now!”

Doffy.

His brother Doflamingo?

Corazon had told you long before the attack back then that he’d had an older brother.

The one he had really been running from when you’d first met.

But Doflamingo had caught up to you both in the end.

Even if you hadn’t fully understood it then.

Because you hadn’t known what Corazon truly was.

“I did move away, Cora. I got sent to freaking therapy because my family thought I was acting out for attention!” You blurted defensively.

They’d blamed you for sneaking out. Everyone had told you over and over that it’d only been a rabid bobcat, or a coyote, something like that that had gotten a hold of you that night.

The rabies shots that followed had been an awful regimen. But the shouts that you were just a delusional teenager making up stories about boys with bird wings had been even worse.

It’d been like being branded somehow. 

A permanent outcast.

And truly, you had been marked. The bite scars on your shoulder were still why you’d never wear a tank top or a swimsuit in public.

Yes, right after veterinary school you’d settled for the first man who hadn’t utterly despised you. Your standards had been that low.

But he’d still wanted to chase money and status, and to take his law degree back to the most populated part of the region to accomplish that.

So it was either break up or follow him back towards this place you’d once run from.

Yet how could you know any of this would ever actually find you again? That had been years ago.

Why would they even still remember you?

“You really don’t get it. Do you?” Corazon answered to that disbelief still on your face. “I swore to Doffy that if he let you go that night, I’d never run from him again. That I’d submit and serve him just the way he’s always expected the whole world to.” But he made another sound of disgust, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t stop him again. There’s nothing else he wants that he doesn’t already have this time.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I have everything I want.”

Your eyes had still been trained on Corazon, so you didn’t miss the way he immediately bristled at the new voice.

Cora stood at his full height then too, looking up to the branches above with hatred etched on his face.

And the monster laughed in response.

Just like that night as your insides twisted for the sound.

But also like Cora’s voice, that laugh was deeper now too.

Even more menacing.

They had both grown up. 

And now you were all together again.

You moved behind Corazon instinctively as Doflamingo leapt down from the branches overhead.

He landed, letting those massive wings spread as he straightened up.

It was a purposeful display of power and size you were sure while he grinned wide. 

The whites of his fangs reflected the remaining moonlight almost as much as that single glowing red eye of his. The other eye had been scarred, taken from him long ago.

“Do you know how rare it is for me to come play in the mud with the rest of you any longer?” Doflamingo taunted, crouching a little then to better see you around Corazon’s tall frame. 

Yet just like back then, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on that creature either. It was all tan skin, stretched tight over bones and muscle as you could see his every breath. 

He was only in dark pants that looked as if they were once the bottom of an expensive, tailored suit.

The mockery of the perfect male form really. Almost human in his silhouette, save for those grand wings where arms should have been, the tail feathers which ran out from the small of his back, and the thinner, scaled over legs coming from the bottom of his pants cuffs. With splayed feet ending in razor sharp talons which now sank into the wet ground beneath him.

His weight shifted, as if he didn’t much like that feel of the dirt either. “I’d prefer meeting in my penthouse on East 22nd these days.” Doflamingo taunted as proof of that observation. “But…I thought this reunion might get a bit messy. And we did just have new carpets put in.”

“I told you I’d bring her to the lakehouse though just as you’d asked. Why are you out here already!?” Corazon barked abruptly anyway, yet you could hear that edge of renewed fear already beginning in his voice.

Doflamingo’s head tilted slightly, that amusement only growing in response. “Well, I was feeling nostalgic. How long has it been, Rosi? Since you and I really got to catch prey together?”

“We’re not doing anything like that!” Cora growled immediately.

“Feh. Quit pretending, little brother. And quit hiding who you really are.” He scolded Corazon outright that time. “This is what you want too, and we both know it. You wanted it that night as well. I was only trying to show you where to start.”

“You were going to kill her!” Cora breathed out. His hands had tightened into fists.

“Not necessarily,” Doflamingo still corrected, condescending as anything. “Actually, I doubt I would have. Don’t you remember why?” And an even deeper cruelty began to seep out with those words.

Something Corazon apparently understood that you did not.

“Shut up!” 

“Oh, stop it. We were young, yes. But not in nature’s eyes. She wouldn’t have smelled that way if-“

“I said shut up!”

And Doflamingo laughed again. “You should have been guarding her better then. Instead of running away to hide just because she was ready that night. She came right to me after all…”

“Because you tricked her!”

“You taught her our call…why wouldn’t I use it?”

The special sound.

And Doflamingo did it suddenly then.

His expression changed.

You could mimic it, but not the way they did. It came up from deep within their chests. Like a music note in its pleasantness to you.

You’d ran from your bed many a summer night to find Cora making that sound for you deep within the woods.

And you’d never really wondered why no one else in the cabin had seemed to notice or wake like you did.

Like this song was only meant for you.

It made your body feel warm again. It made you want to follow.

“Stop it!” Cora’s anger snapped you from your daze.

And only then did you realize you had begun to walk towards his brother.

Doflamingo frowned as Corazon had pushed you back behind him once more.

“You are the shining beacon of utter futility, Rosinante. As always.” He tutted, pausing only a moment longer as he readjusted his rain dampened feathers with some frustration.

The weather had changed to more of a hanging mist now. And you knew it was still cold out here. But you didn’t feel it much anymore.

You were still trying to process what Doflamingo had tried to say. 

She wouldn’t have smelled that way if-

Had they been fighting over you because…

“Come on, Rosi. I’ve been more than fair here. Stop stalling and change already.” Doflamingo warned a bit more impatiently then, pulling those pink and black wings back closer towards his bare torso.

As if he was just now noticing the cold himself.

“But why does it have to be her!? You could have anyone…just…pick someone else, Doffy!” 

And even as a grown man now, you could still hear so much of that boy within Corazon.

Doflamingo evidently heard it too. “Quit whining!” Was what he snapped back. “I’m tired of seeing you mope around! Gutless and useless…this isn’t solely for me. Over and over you tell me how selfish I am. How cruel I am. And yet I put something desirable out for you, practically force feed it to you, and still you complain!”

“Because she has a right to choose her own mate!”

“What? Like that coward she was already living with? You’d let a rodent like him usurp what’s yours!?”

“She’s NOT property! She…she’s-”

“She’s tired of listening to this drivel.” Doflamingo sneered.

And it was all begun there in an instant.

In one lunge and kick, the elder brother had cast his physical lesser decisively to the side.

Your shield was gone.

And you were slammed against the then splintering bark of a tree as that wet maw opened right against your face.

The pain of the hit had made your body try to gasp. But it was as if Doflamingo had known that was exactly what you would do, with his tongue ready to make that his invitation as he forced his way in.

That tongue was warm and long as his wings closed around you.

You were trapped against the tree.

With the sheer heat of his body making you hypersensitive for every place he now pressed himself against you.

This was real.

This was going to happen this time.

And you tasted something metallic on his tongue as well. A mix of blood and earthiness, warm and purposeful as his fangs bumped against your own far duller teeth.

He had made sure your mouth stayed open long enough as you felt something heavier than his spit slide into it.

“Swallow.” Doflamingo whispered, with his wet lips then still against yours while you felt that odd mixture hit the back of your throat.

You knew exactly what that was.

And what it meant to accept it.

Corazon called your name from somewhere so close as he’d stood again. But there was nothing else he could do.

You didn’t want Cora to be hurt either though. You didn’t want to ever have to leave him alone with his brother again.

But this was the price of staying.

And you were finally willing to make that deal.

Even if it now pleased the devil himself.

Doflamingo did growl in satisfaction too, his face briefly nuzzling down against yours once you had breathed in again, signaling your throat was clear.

He’d just fed you for the very first time.

A familial intimacy reserved only for those most dear.

“Change and hold her for me, Rosi.” Came the command to his brother which followed.

But you couldn’t look away from him. 

Doflamingo had straightened his back again. That red eye gleaming down at you.

“My little Corazon has missed you for so long…but I think he still needs convincing to let that out. So let’s help him. Together. You do want to help him…don’t you, my sweet?” And Doflamingo’s voice was taking on a bit of that special resonance again.

As he stepped back away from the tree, you did follow without being stopped this time. His soft wings grazed your sides. 

It felt so very good.

You wanted to bury yourself within the affection of those wings and never rise to see the light again.

But Doflamingo lowered them as he led you further.

Enough that you could now fully see Corazon again.

Corazon with that stricken look of devastation, as if he were watching your death in slow motion right before him. With his eyes even damper now than the weather could possibly be blamed for.

That stab of pain within you for your realization of what he was actually enduring carried even through Doflamingo’s spell on you then.

Your lip quivered. “It’s alright, Cora…” You pleaded softly. “Just do as he says…I’m okay.”

And Doflamingo chuckled.

The heartbreak between the two of you only seemed to fuel him further.

“See? She already forgives you. So show her what you really are. Let’s finish this.” Doflamingo ordered his brother even more darkly.

You both understood the threat behind those words if either of you should dare disobey him. 

Cora’s spirit was visibly crumbling.

Which made you feel all the more desperate to touch him, to comfort him.

You had missed him so much too, almost having started to believe that that part of your life really had been some sort of self induced hallucination over the years.

That you hadn’t experienced your very first feelings of romantic love with some blond, teen runaway in the woods one summer.

That you actually were just crazy.

“It’s okay.” You reiterated to him. And Doflamingo allowed you to reach for Cora.

The younger brother did take your outstretched hand for a moment too. He squeezed it tightly in his larger one as his eyes offered you a last look of misery.

But that grip was already changing. 

He had seemingly accepted your choice.

Corazon’s pale skin began to darken along his arms. The shirt he wore which had already been badly torn from Doflamingo’s earlier kick, he now used his other hand to rip off completely.

That fabric was discarded like trash as he then stood before you in only pants, the same as his brother.

And the prior lack of shoes made all the sense in the world as you saw the skin of his feet scaling over and those talons forming against the ground as well.

But the thing that captured your attention the most were the feathers as they began to bud. Piercing through the then fully darkened skin of his arms one by one as cartilage loudly popped and bones shifted.

Corazon’s arms elongated in time with his legs, that wingspan taking shape as he finally let go of your hand to spread those emerging flight feathers before they could touch the ground.

They were all solid black, yet with a rich shine as each moved into its place. His new tail fanned out behind him as well, hanging over the back top of his pants.

He was gorgeous, like a god even. 

But with glowing red eyes, fangs, and all as you noticed the submissive way he still kept his head down regardless once the transformation was complete.

Like his brother too, Corazon’s bare torso which remained, was all sinew and purpose. Every muscle so clearly defined as he breathed in deeply in his anxiety for your judgment.

But he was no monster to you now.

He was a miracle of nature.

“I like the real you.” You told him gently.

And you saw that true surprise flicker through Corazon’s eyes.

Yet Doflamingo’s impatience had to interrupt. 

With his equally long bird’s legs, the remaining distance was crossed in a single stride by him. Doflamingo pushed your smaller body roughly against his younger brother’s.

“Now, is everyone comfortable here?” Doflamingo grinned once more as Corazon caught you instinctively against his wings.

Both of them had to keep their legs bent, squatted really just to keep from towering over you in their true forms.

But neither seemed to mind the inherent size difference either.

By the predatory gleam in Doflamingo’s eye, he surely didn’t.

And before you could fully acclimate, your back was now against Corazon’s abdomen while Doflamingo pinned you from the front.

You were caught between them as wings flared and you heard Cora’s fangs hitting together above your head as he snapped at his brother in reflex, not wanting him this close.

“Hush.” Doflamingo’s lack of any real anger in response this time only highlighted the implied power difference which still remained between them. “I’ll put you back to the ground in an instant if you wish.” He reminded.

Yet it was all overwhelming to you already. Just the combination of their body heats and scents mixing together even before you felt that first movement of Doflamingo’s hips against yours.

“Put those dextrous little fingers to good use, sweet girl.” He ordered then, shifting his hips again to try and rub the waistband of his pants against your hand. “The stronger male always gets first rights of course.”

And you felt Corazon’s body tense with disgust. As if he was going to try and fight for your sake anyway.

Which you still couldn’t allow.

Because you knew he wouldn’t give up until Doflamingo had made him into a bloody pulp.

Corazon still cared for you that much.

Just as you cared for him enough to prevent that fate. 

“It’s alright. I do want this.” You said as loud as the brief rise of your own bravery would allow.

Corazon took a harsh breath.

But Doflamingo just pushed what was now an obvious bulge harder against your hand in response.

“Smart little thing.” He taunted as your fingers first made it to the button of his pants.

It was all you could do to keep your hands from trembling though as you undid that button and lowered the zipper to free what was growing for you beneath.

You didn’t know what to fully expect of course when dealing with someone that was neither fully man or beast.

Yet your intuition told you not to hesitate. That hesitation would only risk his violence returning. Doflamingo wanted you to touch him immediately as your fingers ran down that muscular V shape which dipped from his navel to his pubic region.

He wore no underwear. But there wasn’t any coarse hair there either to protect him. Just the slightest bit of downy underlayer as the pads of your fingertips found and massaged through it.

It was more wispy fluff than actual feather, soft as anything you’d ever felt as he leaned his head back in clear pleasure.

Of course, you couldn’t avoid the thick base which emerged from that softness either.

Further hardening so quickly as it kept rising up once freed.

His long cock bumped against your stomach in no time, thick and twitching once already.

It looked familiar enough, save for the damn size of it that you didn’t know how the hell you wouldn’t be injured by.

“Everything off. Now.” Doflamingo growled abruptly though. Foreplay not seeming to be a priority for him in this moment as you were then ordered to disrobe.

And Corazon had gone silent now. 

You could still feel the tension of Cora against your back before you began to undress.

Your own humiliation certainly didn’t matter to you by this point though. That would be the least of your problems as pieces of your clothing hit the wet ground one after another.

Coat, shoes, shirt, pants, and underwear were all quickly put out of the way. Until it was just you and all that you were in the cold night air.

“Don’t cover her. I want to see it all.” Doflamingo warned his brother immediately though as Corazon’s wings had tried to shift against you. 

And the little bit of room that Doflamingo had allowed you in order to undress was swiftly taken back as he now pressed you skin to skin as soon as he could.

“Yes…this is what we should have done years ago. If my little brother hadn’t been such a prude with a stick up his ass.”

Corazon growled lowly to that. 

But notably, he made no move to stop his brother this time as Doflamingo kept rubbing his cock against your skin. The head of it had begun to weep. Yet Doflamingo’s gaze had now focused onto that prominent scar on your shoulder.

The one his own fangs had previously given you.

“Did Rosi ever tell you that our kind can’t procreate on their own?” Doflamingo questioned teasingly then, seemingly at random as his tongue ran out over that scar, almost with a reverence while he licked your shoulder until it glistened with his saliva. “You see…if you breed two winged parents together, all they’ll have is miscarriages. But one winged parent and a human…”

“Doffy.” Corazon warned with his own wings still staying protectively close. “That doesn’t matter right now. Just don’t hurt her.”

“It’ll matter eventually.” Doflamingo contested with a lustful smirk.

And your knees were feeling weaker as the boys did this routine again. Falling into that lopsided codependency they had for one another, bickering even with you pressed right between them.

It was a toxic bond they shared and were so determined to now add you to.

Just like Doflamingo had first tried to back then.

But even he had gained some maturity in the time between. Evidenced by the way he first teased the head of himself at your already surprisingly wet entrance instead of just plunging straight inside.

Whether that wetness was your body’s attempt at self preservation or your own willful desire, you weren’t yet sure.

But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. That was clear as he finally began to slowly push his way in.

And when you made that first sound of pain, stretching too much almost immediately, Doflamingo actually paused.

The feathers of his wings ruffled. Somehow the brothers were now tolerating each other enough to not react when their wings bumped one another either.

Yet Corazon’s chest hummed against your back as you felt him bend to put his lips against your neck, near your ear in response to your pain.

“Relax…I’m here.” He promised, even then still trying to protect you.

And you exhaled, feeling that inner warmth once more. Corazon was using that special tone again, resonating through you as you rested your head back against him.

Cora was soothing you as his brother began to push again.

Your were fully walled in too. Corazon’s chest to your back, against him with your thighs spread for his brother. And Doflamingo in front, taking that offering, his legs bent enough for your hips to line up as he slid in deeper and deeper.

And both their wings were to your sides. They were holding you up together as Doflamingo at last bottomed out against your cervix.

You felt like he could have split you in two if he had wanted to.

But Cora’s song just continued, calming and satisfying as you stared up at Doflamingo while he let out a surprising whine with you clenched so tightly around his extraordinary cock.

“Oh…oh, fuck she feels so good.” Doflamingo breathed next. “Keep her calm…I have to move. Keep her just like this.” He was still instructing Corazon even as his sharp hips began to slowly, ever so slowly, slide back and then forward again. The skin of his cock was dragging against your insides.

And you shuddered. Everything felt like more than you could possibly take. 

But Doflamingo’s initial whine soon became moans. He was falling apart even faster than you as his wings closed tighter around you and his movements increased.

His feathers kept shifting, his pupil was dilating.

Yet as he almost grimaced in what appeared to be an abrupt brush with overstimulation, you had your very first inkling that they did not get to use these true forms often.

This was a rare intimacy. 

Maybe even completely unique for them.

The opportunity to be with a partner in their actual bodies. With all the heightened senses and raw feelings that must entail.

You were barely even a participant, and yet you were overwhelming Doflamingo as he slouched forward with his hips still pumping.

His chin was resting on one of your shoulders then, while Corazon’s was resting on your other from the opposite direction.

“I can’t even…hell, I can’t…” Doflamingo nearly laughed in disbelief.

And you felt him tremble all over as he thrust briefly harder, much rougher then as you cried out a little. But only for three or four more deep hits before his hips stilled abruptly.

The heat inside was immediate, spilling out into you as Doflamingo held himself in as close to the hilt as he could be.

But he was too big to be flush against you, just doing his best as he buried his face beside yours and you already felt his excess seed running out down your thighs to drip onto the ground.

The forest was so quiet again. Save for Doflamingo’s uneven breaths.

“Dammit…” He cursed quietly, sounding an odd mix of both placated and highly disappointed. “I need to try again. That wasn’t enough.”

But you were still aching, regardless of Doflamingo already softening within you from what he perceived as a premature release.

“No. You already came. It counts.” Corazon’s voice returned then and there however. His wings were trying to push Doflamingo’s further away.

And those wingtips were far more prehensile than a normal bird’s once Cora decided to just pull you away from his brother instead by your waist not long after. 

It made a lewd sound when Doflamingo’s wet cock slid out of you with that sudden increase in distance. Then hanging soft in a mess of both your fluids between his legs.

He glowered at Corazon as your warmth was removed from his body once more. 

And you feared they would now fight again.

Doflamingo did briefly bare his fangs. 

But Cora had turned you to face only him then as he moved his wings to push against the side of his own pants next.

You weren’t even done dripping from his brother yet. But you saw the full desire now in Corazon’s eyes.

He’d had to watch everything. 

And he had needs too.

Ones you were sure he had been too afraid to ever tell you up until tonight.

“Here.” You reached out, helping Cora as you tugged at his pants to slip them the rest of the way off of his hips.

Fair was fair.

What you did for one brother, you knew you had to do for the other.

Even if Doflamingo was now finding the concept of waiting for his second turn much more difficult than he’d originally envisioned. 

Corazon was wearing boxers. Ones that already looked a bit too tight for him just as you felt Doflamingo step back behind you.

Cora clearly bristled, not appreciating that. But you did your best to deescalate them again.

They had their own hierarchy and rules as all flocks did you were sure.

Doflamingo was the leader of them all without question. But his own neediness and vulnerabilities were far more apparent to you now.

It was a bold risk, and you didn’t move too quickly. But you did reach behind you then to massage your hand along Doflamingo’s hip and thigh. Acknowledging him at your back, and rewarding even his few moments of patience with physical touch.

Maybe that affection had surprised him.

He’d stilled again either way, and that was all the time that Corazon had needed to slide his own underwear down enough to uncover himself.

Your face felt flushed at the sight. 

Because Cora was already rock hard. Perhaps not the full length of his brother, but no less intimidating for you.

With Doflamingo still right there however, Cora didn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity.

You gasped as Corazon pressed himself right into the wetness his brother had already made within you.

Your insides stretched and filled tight as anything all over again as Cora breathed your name and began immediately rocking his hips.

Doflamingo was then growling behind you in jealous response, so your hand had to move back between his legs to stimulate him too. 

You were fondling the older brother’s still softened shaft as he twitched it wantingly in your palm.

While the younger brother quickly fell into a deep rhythm inside of you, pumping your bodies together as nature had always intended.

It didn’t even feel wrong.

Because they both needed you.

And you needed them.

Or you would now.

And as Corazon scraped inside you just right, steady and sure, your orgasm was quickly building even while Doflamingo began to stiffen again within your hand.

You just stroked him harder in rhythm to his brother’s thrusts.

You could see the future already. 

There would be babies.

Multiple babies.

One mother, two different fathers. 

Nature was like that sometimes. Especially with a rare species that needed all the help it could get.

It’d just be easier to share the resources. To have two strong mates protecting you instead of only one.

Doflamingo was already getting ready to cum again too. You could hear it in his panting as he fucked your hand so roughly then.

But it was the combination of Cora’s steady pumping and Doflamingo’s desperate movements that finally sent you over the edge.

You felt your channel spasm around Cora, who repaid that pleasure immediately with a hard shudder as he released his own seed in powerful shots to mix with what you’d already received from his brother.

Corazon did get it all in, just barely though before those pink wings were grabbing you backward abruptly. 

Yet again you were pulled off of a wet cock that had just finished as Doflamingo slid himself right back into your now fully swollen folds from behind.

His wings pushed you, then making you bend forward at the waist so he could fully mount you from behind this time. You didn’t even have the chance to recover from the orgasm you’d just had before Doflamingo was pounding you so hard against your ass.

You were panting too, trembling for the contrast of his soft wings holding you up on the outside while he utterly wrecked you on the inside.

“Come on…I need you to cum on me too…I’m not stopping this until you do.” Doflamingo threatened you. Evidently not at all missing your visible orgasm had with Corazon inside you moments prior.

Yes, everything was always going to be this way too you were sure. Doflamingo would have to have the final word, the final touch. He might share only with his brother. But everything still had to start and end with him.

He was the dominant male of this territory.

“Doflamingo…” You tried his name in some very minor bid for mercy. You couldn’t think straight enough to will another orgasm back out so soon.

But you had to.

You glanced back up towards Corazon, who still seemed a bit dazed from his own release.

But his eyes did meet yours, even as his brother now fucked you raw from only footsteps away.

Yet, it wasn’t the full sadness from earlier in Cora’s stare any longer. You saw real lust for you still so heavy in those red eyes then. That look which said he would also love to do this to you if you’d only ask him for it.

Corazon would do anything you wanted him to going forward.

And that thought was enough to bring the coil of warmth into your stomach again. 

You were going to be fine. You would survive.

You’d never have to sit in a room alone again either and worry about who or what future awaited you on the other side.

Because your monsters were already here. And they had chosen you.

You moaned loudly. Both of these men in your mind, together again while that pleasure sent your body into ecstasy one more time.

You came with that cry for Doflamingo as he orgasmed gladly in return to flood your poor channel yet again with his seed. 

Your abused cunt was dripping and your body shaking before Doflamingo pulled you fully back against his chest, wrapping his warm wings around you protectively.

His voice was a bit uneven, matching his rough breathing now. “Let’s go home then. All three of us. Tonight and forever.”

And Corazon smiled slightly at last to that rare sentiment. A remarkable expression in its own right. 

Because maybe Cora was finally realizing as you had that the worst was not truly the worst.

Doflamingo wasn’t going to let anything happen to you now.

This deal had been made and the ink was already dry.

Cora used his feathers to awkwardly pull up his underwear and pants before he idly began collecting your clothing for you soon after.

“You’re going to need bigger beds then, Doffy. Both at the lakehouse and the penthouse.” Corazon said quietly as he looked back to the two of you who were still recovering.

Doflamingo smirked, not disagreeing this time. “That’d be much easier than arguing whose bed she’ll get in each night, wouldn’t it?”

You’d lay with them both of course.

But Doflamingo nipped your ear for good measure too as his feathers rubbed more possessively across your abdomen.

“Yes. We’ll have quite a nest going on soon enough.” He grinned wide in anticipation of this truth. “Little ones never like to sleep alone either after all.”

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! ❤️🎃

A/N: The two sentence horror story quoted in the beginning is “Knock” by Fredric Brown.

[crepezinhos]

Purity

POV: You just wanted to celebrate your engagement party with your friends and family in the 1600s, but as soon as you left the scene for a quick moment, your childhood friend, Scaramouche, appeared with a lot of complaints.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a slightly Yandere and corrupted NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— 1600s / European Royalty AU

— There will be a lot of usage and mentions of toxic religion / culture towards women.

— There will be a whole NSFW part describing teenagers having sex

The party was going perfectly well as you planned it to be. Even without your presence at the main hall in a party that was supposed to be about you, you could hear the hundreds of voices and noises of silvers clicking. You thought that maybe making this party huge would distract your mind off from the most recent events of your life, and it did before your future husband ruined it for you and made you remind that you were just a loser in his game.

Of course it was him, it had to be him. Why did you even believe that he’d ever let you have that much of fun in a party? Now, you definitely did not want to party anymore, and luckily, you also couldn’t. Tears are a nightmare for eyes with mascara all around its eyelashes, the ink is strong. You looked a homeless woman as you crippled through each stair step in search of your room, stepping in the ends of your dress, defeated by the public humiliation he did to you. Why did he have keep making so many remarks about your excited manners towards the visitors, how you referred to him, and how much food you wanted to put in your plate? It made you wonder why did you ever accept marrying him the entire walk.

The story behind your marriage is simple. Your reputation in the city was bad, not enough to make your family miserable, but enough to make all the marriage suitors of your age refuse to take your hand in marriage. You were a girl who liked to have fun and take risks, not sit and chat for hours while drinking tasteless cups of tea in a time where all men wanted the complete opposite in their wives. You also had a very curious case in the past. You and your childhood best friend called Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche just for you, had promised and announced a marriage that would take place as soon as both of you got inserted into society, but unfortunately, his school offered him a scholarship in France before you two could be inserted, and since you obviously couldn’t come with him, he was forced to choose between success or you. He ended up picking France, which was not a bad decision, but watching his departure was truly painful to your poor heart who had deeply fallen in love with him.

Because of this tragic love story that turned out to be a joke and your questionable personality, everyone lost interest in you and your family, which made you an unmarried woman for two years. In short, being unmarried at such age was a disaster. The only man that had proposed to you was the same one who shamed you in front of your whole family and all those hypocrite visitors. He was the double of your age, ugly, and had really strict standards for his future wife after the loss of his previous wife. After a few test dates with him, you realized that you really did not want to marry him and even repulsed the idea, not because of your love towards Scaramouche, but because he wasn’t ok in the head. He was weird to a point where he confessed he just wanted to make you his wife because he thought you looked very fertile and that you’d be an incredible mother for boys, since you ‘acted like one’, which would not be a bad thing if his eyes never seemed to linger in your crotch for too long and if he kept his hands to himself.

You did not want to spend the rest of your life stocked to such weird man at all. You didn’t feel anything for him and even felt sick in his presence, but your reputation was in such a terrible state that your parents pressured you with the worst and most disturbing threats ever to accept his offer during a huge argument about it.

You’ve always wished to marry a young man of your age, especially Scaramouche, but you had no right or power of choice in that situation. With growing tears in the back of your eyes, you accepted his act of putting a golden ring in your finger. The day still haunted your dreams and thoughts, making you want to cry every single day of your meaningless life just like today.

Luckily, all you had to do that after climbing those long, exhausting stairs was enter the first room at the right. As soon as you touched the golden, cold doorknob of it, you felt your body melt and your tears finally coming out of your eyes with freedom. You held them for so long, you just wanted to throw yourself at the bed and cry until you fell asleep. Still, as desperate as you were, you closed the door very gently, afraid of possibly calling attention.

You stepped out of your heels and finally ran to the bed you slept through your entire childhood. Due to the contact your face made with the sheets, you finally felt comfort to open your mouth and let all your whimpers out. Everything that led to your situation was hitting you again. Your affair with Scaramouche, his departure, the argument with your parents, the betrayal of society to you, the first appearance of that hag you were marrying, his proposal, and today. It all made you so anxious again that you really began to try shutting your mouth again multiple times and swallow all that voice down your throat again, but it only seemed to worsen.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard a voice inside the room, slightly muffled due to your head being drowned at the wet sheets.

Oh no, someone spotted you.

The fear of it being your husband, an unreliable gossiper or your reputation worsening made you instantly jump up from that position, despite the weird feeling of familiarity on that voice.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll come down in a few—!” You tried making yourself look normal, but as soon as your eyes gazed upon the person’s shiny purple hair and eyes, you stopped acting.

It was the complete opposite of what your pessimism made you believe it could be, it was a miracle, it was Kunikuzushi. Although his face seemed to be very stressed and he entered the room without knocking, it did not make his appearance any less pleasant to you.

“Scara…” You called his nickname after those 2 years without speaking of it.

Your family made very clear to you that if you ever spoke of the man again to them or your husband, it would lead to your disownment, but calling his name out so passionately like that made all those threats feel useless to you. The first thing you did after realizing that it was really him, was begin walking to him. It was instinctual, so instinctual that your knees stopped trembling just for you to reach him and more tears started coming down. He looked so beautiful and mature… it made you feel even more bad about yourself. You wasted such a handsome man to one that probably has never even tried to look pretty to a lady.

“For how long have you…” You tried interacting, but as you soon as your hand managed to touch him, you broke down once again, this time in his embrace.

You felt so safe around Scaramouche and so hungry for him that you genuinely allowed your legs to stop working, and as expected, he held you with a warm embrace around your entire torso. When he realized you still were as light as a feather, he leaned one hand up to the back of your head and started cuddling it, his face still stressed.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” He whispered with that familiar angry voice of his you wished to hear again, slightly gripping tighter in your head.

The truth is that you secretly sent an invitation letter to the party to him, even if you believed that he would not be able to come or simply wouldn’t come. It was a normal envelope like everyone else’s, but you hoped he’d interpret it as a cry for help.

“W-Wha… what do you mean..?” You whimpered, looking up to his face.

Now that he was so much taller than you, the difference of height was surprising to you.

“I was talking to him, to find out where you were and to just know who the fuck were you marrying, and not only he said he didn’t know with the most careless tone I could hear, but he felt comfortable enough to confess a bunch of weird shit about his intentions with you and that he offended you in front of everyone in the dining table.” He told the story behind his arrival very angrily, but his voice was so mesmerizing to you that you barely paid attention to it. He still sounded like a twelve year-old boy before his departure, but now he sounded like an adult. “Did he really do that, Y/N?” He asked, pulling your chin to him to wake you up to reality, forcing you to go through all he said before again and stare at those addicting purple eyes.

Between all those whimpers and tears, you nodded weakly, making Scaramouche grit his teeth.

“And you’re really… marrying him?” You went quiet for some second in embarrassment after he made that question with the most disappointed tone you’ve ever heard from him yet.

But you had no choice rather than being truthful.

“Yes—”

“Why?” He asked instantly, some of his anger accidentally pouring out.

“I… had to… or I would be disowned and… and..!” You tried explaining, but the memories of the actual threat stopped you from venting too much.

Luckily, he understood your despair at that moment and embraced you again.

“I’m guessing this is all because of me, isn’t it?” He scoffed at himself, but you instantly nodded your head side to side, trying to tell him otherwise. “Oh, Y/N… I should’ve found a way to bring you to France with me…” He whispered in your ear and pulled you even closer to his body, truly seeming regretful of his decisions. “I thought I had forgotten about you over these two years, but here I am, raging over your marriage.” He vented, making your eyes finally open again, but in confusion.

“You’re… angry..?” You asked, leaning your chin up to him again.

“Way more than that, Y/N.” He said very directly, pushing you away from him gently, still holding on your shoulders as he precisely stared to the deepest parts of your eyes. “This has to stop.” He shook your shoulders, making you get even more confused and surprised at his sudden jealously. “I don’t care if it will ruin more of your little reputation, I can’t let you marry that prick.” He spouted more of his feelings, putting a hand back to reach the door behind him to bang it back to its place and spin the lock in knob, then going back to gripping on your shoulders tighter than before, making you slightly whimper at his firmness.

“W-What are you talking about, Scara..?” You asked, trying to believe he was not saying those things.

“Do you know why that man asked your hand in marriage, Y/N? I had a bit of hope that at least I lost you to a good man, but all he wants in you is your fertility and potential to be a mother.” He told you the details of it with a kind of disgust you had never seen on him, making you turn your face away from him in embarrassment of your decisions. “That’s fucking mental, Y/N, why the fuck are doing this?!” He shook your shoulders again, a little more aggressive as he tries to understand you the mentality behind your choices.

“And what else could I do, Scara?! If you know that it’s your fault that I got a bad reputation, why are you acting like this is unexpected?! I was unmarried for these whole two years, I had to accept this! You know how things work for women! If I don’t marry quickly, I’ll be forever stained with it like it’s written in my forehead! Do you know how much I had to fight and work to get this, huh?! Do you think I chose and love this?!” You vented it all out, screaming like you didn’t care about the possible consequences of it meanwhile Scaramouche looked at you in horror.

But you could see that you convinced him, now that he let you go and turned around, beginning to walk in circles in your room with his hands in his hips, thoughtful about you.

“I can’t let you do this, Y/N…” He whispered to himself as he nodded his head around multiple times and you stood weakly exactly where you’ve been this entire hug.

But after some circles, he started to slow down until he fully stopped in front of one of the room’s windows. He kept staring at the garden below the room through the glass, his back turned to you, but you could still feel the anxiety behind whatever he thought of.

His arms crossed firmly, his index finger tapping his arm, and at the same time he took a deep breath, like he was preparing for something.

“Marry me.” He stated, finally finding the courage to stare at you again.

You simply stared at him wordless in your shrunken position, completely vulnerable to his tall figure, although he was far from you. The room remained quiet because Scara needed a response to continue rambling about that brainstormed idea.

“I would’ve accepted losing you to a common man of our age, but not to an old hag with a simple wish to make an heir.” He commented as you thought of what to answer him.

“Scaramouche… are you nuts?! I already am engaged to him, all we need is the actual wedding! There’s nothing to be done about it unless you want to stain my reputation forever!” You finally spouted some of your emotions to him.

“Of course there is, Y/N! Listen to me…” He shouted at you as he approached to you again, holding on your arms again very firmly. “I just came back to this hellhole to see you, but I’ll be soon going back to England and most likely going to stay there for the rest of my life. If you dump this douchebag right now and marry me instead, I’ll take you out of here and implant you into a new society! See?! It really isn’t hard or risky and we will finally marry each other as we’ve always dreamed to! I still fucking love you so much, Y/N… You’ve grown so well and you look so fucking beautiful in this dress… I can’t lose you to that man at all.” He explained the plan to you in a desperate tone, and although you agreed with all of it, you kept your face as anxious as it was.

You definitely loved him back and wanted to run away with him, but how would he get rid of your husband or the church? How would you live knowing that you wasted two years of pure hard work because of the seduction of a man you’ve been lusting for, and who barely has a plan in his own? His plan seems so easily fragile… what if it breaks? You would most likely become the national shame for next centuries.

All those negative thoughts censored the good ones about his plan, making you look away from him as you nodded side to side firmly, making Scaramouche start breathing more nervously in despair.

“I can’t…” You initiated, thinking he’d instantly get mad, but when you realized he didn’t say anything back, and wanted to listen, you continued. “I spent two years fighting for this, Scara… I can’t just… drop everything for a plan that’s not even finished on its own…” You cried, trying your best to free away from his grip with ease.

“Oh, silly Y/N..! All I need now is to find out how will I get rid of that fucking prick, and then it’s done! You know it’s not a bad plan… I really just need to think about this part! I think I can safely state that we still love each other and crave for this… we can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist..!” He argued, banging your foreheads together with a sensible lust to bring your lips together.

“I cannot accept your offer until it’s fully completed, Scaramouche… I’m sorry. It still wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve broken my heart once.” You brought the topic back, which made him barely cry and tighten his grip on your shoulders in regret, feeling like he was losing you. “And… I’ve heard you’ve been seeing a woman named Kujou Sara… so how can I guarantee you’re not just playing with my heart and seducing me into carnal desires..?” You asked, making him genuinely scoff and giggle at your logic.

“Do you really think I’d go this far for carnal desires, Y/N? Wherever you heard about me and Sara, keep in mind that we didn’t work. Don’t you remember? Our mothers have always tried to push us together through our entire childhoods, but we repulsed each other so much that we preferred to bet on the luck of finding another partner! And trust me, Y/N, I had you in my mind this entire time.” He told his version of the story as he confessed his feelings for you. “I don’t wish to simply engage into animality with you, I want to be your fucking husband and the fucking father of your children.” He confessed, feeling the regret of his last actions hitting on him and the anger of your insistence of rejecting him, but you saw him stop for a moment to swallow everything down again and regain some self-control. “I love you, Y/N.” Those words came out of his mouth as easy as any other would, with a smile that you could feel was genuine, no matter how weird it looked.

The impact of his emotions on you made you weaken your body again, feeling safe in his grip no matter how weird he was acting. You felt like you were set back to his seduction, but you didn’t really care for it for that quick moment.

“I… I love you too, Scara, but I really can’t—”

…

!

In a blink of an eye, you saw the gap between your mouths close shut, finally making utility of the unnecessary contact between your foreheads. His lips were glossing yours, no matter if yours were supposed to belong to another man now. He had pulled you that close to him, no matter if you had or had not consented. He predicted that you’d simply accept it like a gift… and he wasn’t wrong.

Scaramouche’s tongue was invasive and hungry to get to feel more of your mouth, and that feeling just made you melt under his attack. Your back leaned backwards, making him have to hold you by your waist in a very hard angle while you held him by his cheeks, but it didn’t matter as long as he got to kiss you. Your tongue soon managed to join his rhythm, which made him groan. Everything between you got very hot and very quickly, only convincing you to kiss him more. It has been two years since you last saw, touched or kissed him, which means your hormones were surely acting higher than you.

You suddenly felt Scaramouche’s hands move to the back part of your tights and pull it up. You groaned in surprise but that didn’t stop you from savoring his lips. What truly made you two separate was the fact that Scaramouche started walking, and in a few steps, your back banged against a cold wall of your room beside your bed. That swift movement made a saliva chord come out from both your mouths, but was quickly ignored by you moving your hands behind his neck and hugging his waist with your legs to pull him to your mouth again, gripping on the back of his hair like you felt any sort of pain in that kiss.

You were almost feeling tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you felt all those years of longing being wasted, but before you could get any more emotional, you felt something gently rub in your crotch. It instantly made you feel uncomfortable, although you had no idea what it was, so you pushed Scaramouche backwards, separating your moths again, to see what it was.

Oh, lord. You two messed up.

It was a growing erection under his pants.

You instantly flinched away from it as a reaction, slightly screaming in fear of it.

“W-Wait..! No! We can’t do this, Scara!” You argued as you tried to push him away and kick the air with your feet.

“Why not, hum..?” He asked, not taking you seriously at all. “I thought you said you loved me too…” He joked, getting his face close to yours again for another kiss, but accidentally forcing the contact of his erection with your crotch even further.

“Seriously, Scara! Stop it!” You moaned as you felt him rub himself against your clothed clit, trying to push him away even harder.

Scaramouche grunted in frustration, but still decided to let you stand up in the ground again and step away from you. After some necessary breathes to recover, he finally decided to speak up.

“What’s wro—?”

SLAP!

You breathed in and out some extras times before using the same hand you used to smack his cheek to wipe the saliva away from your lips and speaking up for yourself.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again!” You argued, trying your best to not scream at him so loudly.

“What’s up with the sudden bipolarity, huh?” He asked in an ironic tone, caressing the cheek that has been slapped.

You had just forgotten how sarcastic and annoying Scaramouche was. It even made you wonder how did you befriend him in the first place.

“This is wrong, Scaramouche, even if I accepted your offer… it would be cruel to betray someone’s trust like this. Sorry if I fooled you by realizing this too late, but you know wives have to keep themselves pure before their marriage, so meanwhile we aren’t an oficial couple, I must keep myself pure for my future husband.” You argued in a more calm tone, rearranging your hair and dress.

“Pure?” He scoffed.

“Yes, Scaramouche. Pure as a saint.”

“There isn’t such thing as ‘purity’, Y/N, and you were never ‘pure’ too.” He ironized, copying your way to pronounce ‘pure’.

“What do you mean?” You asked, slightly losing your confidence as he made those two statements.

“Well… let’s just say I studied a lot about religion and science in France and stopped going to church or believing in God because I found science more logical—” He initiated, making you repulse him and his previous actions even more.

“W-Wha… what..?! Scara, this is devil’s work on you..!” You immediately replied.

“Quiet. I’m not done.” He tried shutting you, but you feared demonology too much to let him give you orders.

“I will not quiet down towards—!”

“Y/N, if you’re so loyal to your religion, why don’t you act like the submissive woman you’re supposed to be and let the man take lead?” He confronted in a harsh, cold tone, this time giving you a good reason to shut up. “When I say I don’t believe in God, I also mean that I don’t believe in Satan, hell or heaven.” He continued, completely ignoring your discomfort and fear.

You feared that Scaramouche you saw was just a demon morphing as him, or that he had allied with Satan, but you still felt like none of those negative thoughts made you like him less or feel less comfortable. According to his words, he really just seemed to have started seeing the world in a different perspective.

“Why would God want you to be ‘pure’ anyway? Why would he not want couples to know each other and be intimate before sealing their relationship as marriage?” He scoffed the logic behind that rule of your religion. “What would you do if that man you’re about to marry likes choking and hurting women physically during sex? I don’t think you’re into those things, so that’s why I’m asking… nor I think that man would be willing to adapt to what you like.” He crossed his arms as he confronted you again, but you didn’t want to say anything else. “And there’s also the fact that you still are not ‘pure’, Y/N, in fact, you’re one of the most impure women I’ve ever met.” He insulted you, making you gasp in shock with his audacity.

“How dare you insult me like this?!” You screamed back at him.

“Insult? It’s a mere fact, Y/N, unless if you consider what happened between us when we were 16, a day before my departure, something ‘pure’.” He scoffed, smirking as he saw your face stone in horror.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no…

No, no, no, no, no…

He’s right.

You are not pure.

“You opened yourself so easily to me… I was so glad I got to experience sex with you before leaving this stupid city.” He commented, making both of you remember of what happened enthusiastically, but you were still horrified with the incoming memories.

That day, you were simply sitting in Scaramouche’s bed with him, talking about how you felt about his departure. Not only you knew he was going to leave you, but another girl you two knew as kids, Kujou Sara, was also moving to France, and that made you feel extremely insecure about your slightly romantic relationship with him. You asked him if he planned marrying her if he didn’t come back, but he took it as an insult and instantly spilled out that if he could ever marry you, he would, but it was impossible at the moment because you two were too young for the church to allow it. From that point, things got hot and romantic very quick, and you two lost notion of time and morality as you two made love to each other for the first time in your lives.

“Do you… really promise to- ah~! marry me if you come back, Scaramouche..?” You asked between moans and whines as you hugged and scratched his back and he forced his hips into yours like a starved dog.

“Of course, Y/N, of cour—” He was about to answer, but a sudden gasp echoed in the room in the spot of the door, making you two stone in horror and stop everything.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” Scaramouche’s mother, Raiden Ei, screamed at the both of you with a very noticeable disgust in her voice.

And you two were forced to stop.

“Yeah, right? How many slaps that costed you again? 50?” He asked as he realized you were having flashbacks of it.

Ei was not kind towards the situation you both were in and reported your sin to your family, which caused the biggest problems you had to face: your family’s scolding and not allowing that secret to spread. Your parents had gone so mad during their scolding that they instantly made you also receive punishment from the church to somehow recover what you lost that day. The sister who heard your forced confession betrayed your little trust and forced you to receive 50 slaps with a piece of wood in your bare nude buttocks. What hurt you most is that not only your lover couldn’t defend you but the sister did not forgive your sin and told you with the roughest voice tone she that you’d never get your purity back.

It was so traumatic and humiliating that your mind decided to blur those moments out of it to make your life less miserable, but now it has all been brought back by the man you wanted to defend you at that moment.

“You see, Y/N? We have stoped being ‘pure’ long time ago when we did that! We’re both screwed in this society, so if we stick together, nothing will change in our reputations! We’re perfect for each other, Y/N! Why can’t you see it?!” He whispered in your ear after walking up to you again, extremely desperate for your consent to kiss you one more time.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right about the logic of purity or you not being pure… you didn’t want to awaken those dark moments at all. What if someone was behind that door listening to it all..? It would truly be the end of your name in England.

“Come on, say it, Y/N… you know you still want to be my wife and get away from this hellhole of a city.” He begged with a petty voice, extremely lusty for you.

His cheeks were red and his mouth trembling to touch yours again.

You lowered your head, beginning to tear again as you resisted your desires, no matter how much it ached your heart.

But your need to cry was suddenly replaced by the sudden movement of one of his legs moving upwards, kneeing right under your crotch.

“No need to cry, my love… I’ll make sure that this guilt will vanish as soon as you agree to my plan of getting you out of this marriage… There is literally no good reason for you to say ‘no’..!” He whispered as he started rubbing his knee against your folds, causing to gently hiccup in tears and slight pleasure and try pushing him away. “See..?! You still like it when I touch you here… you want more, don’t you..? I don’t think even think I need to hear your voice to know it’s a ‘yes’!” He grunted under your neck as he begun moving a hand under your dress and kissing your neck.

No matter how much your memories made you feel horrible, you knew that Scaramouche would be the remedy of it. You knew that he would present you plenty pleasure if you accepted what he was trying to do with you right now, you knew he’d make you the happiest woman on Earth if things went well, you knew you’d love being the mother of his children, you could easily predict your future if you say ‘yes’ to him.

Your feelings are a mess, really. But now that they seemed to have finally stick with something, you didn’t want to let go.

“Oh, God! If you’re watching this, please forgive me for my sin ahead… I just want to feel him once again… I just want to spend some time with him!”

“Please don’t let this be a demon trying to take advantage of my weaknesses! Please let his plan be real and not an attempt to simply seduce me into carnal activities!”

“And if he really wants to be my husband… please let me have it! I really need it for my happiness!”

You said to yourself in your mind.

“Scara~…” You moaned out before he could your private spots.

“Yes, my love?” He answered excitedly, stopping his movements to hear what you had to say after moaning his name so perfectly.

“Please… get me out of here!” You begged, finally weakening your body for his benefit in that situation, making his purple eyes glow and widen in joy.

“Oh, Y/N, I will… I fucking will.” He groaned, instantly stopping his attempt in teasing your core and moving his hands to your tights to pull them upwards.

In seconds, you were spun around and thrown against your bed, but it really didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or any pain because the make-out session that begun was simply numbing your mind of everything around you. He was on top of you and perfectly positioned between your legs, making you able to feel his erection slightly poking and rubbing against your swollen cunt.

His hands were quick in beginning to push all the layers of your dress upwards as his mouth still pushed your head father into the mattress. He had no time to make a full preparation for the moment, nor did you want it. You just wanted to feel that man inside you already, anything blocking you from it was simply annoying, no matter if it was related to him making love to you.

His mouth suddenly separated from yours, making you open your eyes in agony of being too far from him, only to find him leaning his whole body upwards and his hands moving to your pantyhose like a starved dog. Unlike with the dress, his hands weren’t as gentle with your pantyhose, barely ripping it apart as he brutally pulled them down.

“S-Scara..! Be more careful, those were expensive!” You asked slightly stressed, trying your best to close your knees from him, but he held them like he’d die if you did that.

“S-Sorry.” He said absolutely careless about it, only focusing on the teasing view of your exposed tights and underwear. “Fuck…” He grunted as he moved his hands to his belt.

He was quick on undoing his annoying pants and you helped him by sliding your underwear down too, saving some time for him. He smirked at your will to commit carnal activity with him as he grabbed his own cock and pulled it out, beginning to stroke it gently in front of you. You were somehow too ashamed to look at it, so you simply threw your head aside and moved a hand to your wet entrance as your body relaxed, gently inserting two fingers inside it to also prepare yourself even more for him.

“God, Y/N… you never fail to make me as hard as a brick. Can you even guess how many times I touched myself for you?” He smirked as his cock twitched at the view of you preparing yourself to receive him.

He felt like he could cum already if he kept stroking himself with that view in front of him, but he really was just preparing himself for the moment too.

As soon as he felt a sudden hard pulse from his cock, he knew he was ready and leaned down close to you again, using a hand to take yours away from your cunt and properly position his cock in front of it.

Your hands went to the corners of the pillow under your head, gripping on them nervous about his length.

“Are you ready, my love?” He asked between some shaky breathes.

“Yes…” You whispered, and he finally begun slowly pushing his way inside you.

The scream that came out of you as a reaction to it would only get higher and higher the deeper he went, making your entire body crumble under him for a quick moment when he finally stopped at the tip of your cervix, successfully inserting all his length inside you. Despite knowing that in your religion sexual pleasure was sinful too, even in marriage, that heat wave his entrance gave you was too breathtaking to make you care about those stupid rules.

“Lord almighty…” He groaned and smirked at the sensation of being surrounded by your mushy, tight walls. “If only I had time and condition to see you naked again… thank God I’ll make you my wife, Y/N, because I want us to do this every single day of our lives.” His voice cracked multiple times during his speech as he begun creating a slow rythym to his hips, pleasuring taking over his senses too.

He was slowly pulling out and then rocking all the way in quickly, creating a tortuous rhythm that mostly explored your G spot, which only made you feel weaker and weaker under him. Unintentional plap noises were coming out from the rocking of both your hips and his balls every time he thrusted, which would be something you’d be worrying about if your mind wasn’t numbed by the overwhelming pleasure you received. Tears were beginning to form in ecstasy as your legs instinctively hugged his hips tighter, wishing for more depth into his movements.

“Do you really think… that man would or could ever… make you feel like this, Y/N?” He asked, pausing to moan and breathe sometimes, not minding the fact that you barely had any consciousness left to answer.

“N-N… no…” You moaned out, making his smirk widen.

“Only I can… and I fucking love it.” He whispered to himself as he slightly sped up his rhythm.

The way he whispered with that husky voice made you feel his dick suddenly get bigger and more invasive inside you, making Scaramouche grunt, although you didn’t understand what happened.

“Fuck… if you keep tightening like this, I might be unable to keep making my way inside…” He teased right in your left ear, making you throw your head aside even more.

His blood circulation felt like it had dropped all the way to his dick, because somehow he managed to get even harder than he was with the struggle of passing through such a tight space as your pussy.

Due to him getting his face so close to your head, Scaramouche moved his mouth to your neck, his harsh breathing tickling your warm skin too. Your legs twitched in surprise and Scaramouche grunted again, meaning that you probably tightened your cunt around him again.

And it was definitely the case since now you could hear some low, soggy noises whenever he pulled out from you, something that was not happening until this point.

“You still like it when I fuck you nice and slow like this, don’t you..?” He asked, making you face away from the moment in front of you. “Don’t be ashamed, I love making this to you…” He teased again before going back to his make-out session with the muscles of your neck.

Your hands finally got enough from endlessly gripping in a pillow and moved to his back, scratching it in the same intensity as his thrusts, making him slightly crumble on top of you too. But since he had his clothes on, his back was mostly protected from your nails unlike your poor, swollen cunt, being savored so relentlessly no matter how fragile and sensitive it is for his touch.

“Tell me, Y/N… who’s your husband..?” He asked, stopping his attack in your neck again just to lean up and stare at you with those hungry, shining purple eyes, unintentionally getting your hands away from his back too.

“Y-You…” You answered, still staring at him with your pathetic sex face.

“Who’s ‘you’?” His menacing voice made you remember of just how Scaramouche liked to explore everyone’s limits and capacities just to make himself more proud.

You had fallen for these tricks multiple times as a kid, so you eventually learned how to avoid them. And although you knew he was doing it again now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to make him more invested in your capacity of being submissive.

“Scaramouche… or… Kunikuzushi… Raiden…” You used all your energy to make your response the most teasing it could to fuel his pleasure.

And it worked, since you saw his eyes and smirk widen in lust as he heard you perfectly answer him.

“Yeah… that’s right. I am your husband and will soon be the father of your children… it’s just very unfortunate that I can’t afford to cum inside you and impregnate you right now… because I really wanted to.” He answered in a low tone, his constant breathing taking over his voice, speeding up his thrusts to a more tiring one, like he was beginning to get seriously involved with the moment.

You felt so sinful on allowing yourself to be so kinky and aroused with Scaramouche’s kinky personality too, but God would forgive you for this, wouldn’t he? He is such a nice person… he can feel that you’re just trying to feel your loved one again, right?

“You’re mine, Y/N… mine, mine, mine…” He grunted, leaning down again, but this time to kiss you with all his hunger and passion.

And before you could hug him again, he grabbed both your wrists who were gripping the pillow again and locked them right there, having full control of you. And you, in pleasure at feeling so confident to let him deal with you as he wished, arched your back up and widened the gap between your legs, allowing the mess of the sex between your hips to have even more depth.

It didn’t matter if your brain barely had any oxygen to process everything that was going on, Scaramouche still knew exactly how to bring you to ecstasy even if he got the chance to have sex with you once without even having an orgasm. Did he really study that much in France? It even made you jealous for a quick moment before your mind went numb again because of the lack of air that passed through your mouth in that kiss.

And Scaramouche was mean enough to force your tongue follow his in the deepest corners of your mouth, taking over anything that you had control of at that point. But don’t worry, Scaramouche was struggling on his own. He was giving the job of keeping himself on top of you only to his arms, which was causing an agonizing pain that he was trying to ignore. His sloppy socks were also making hard for his feet to keep his hips at that perfect angle that gave sharp thrusts at your weak spots, needing to crawl up again multiple times.

Luckily, he was feeling something build up inside his crotch, meaning that both your agonies would be done soon.

He sped up his rythym, causing you to clench around him once again for that momentary peak. It really felt like you were simply sucking him in rather than him thrusting.

He suddenly separated your tongues and leaned up his entire torso at the same time. His hands also moved back to your hips, pulling them up to successfully thrust you rough and fast as he smirked in pleasure of miring your defeated body shaking and trembling in rythym of his violent sex with hungry, widened eyes.

Due to the new position and rhythm, the bed begun doing the classic cranky noises whenever it moved up and down too. But, honestly… you guys had locked the door, in a took at second floor of a mansion where music was taking over everyone’s ears in the first floor… why the fuck would you care about it?

Your hands, no matter how weak they felt, moved to his wrists, simply hugging and caressing them in acceptation of his control over you, almost telling him that you desired him to keep controlling you until it ached. Your head was also thrown back as a reaction to his brutality, also feeling something build up inside your crotch.

“You’re gonna cum too, aren’t you? It’s getting way too sloppy down here…” He scoffed as before finally allowed himself to also fully focus on bringing an orgasm to both of you like a dog in heat.

His head arched all the way up too, beginning to also focus on feeling every single curve of your wet walls surrounding him perfectly. He was so focused on pleasing himself with your defeat rather than your pussy that he didn’t realize just how well you were taking him inside you.

“So fucking tight and warm f’me… it’s addicting, I’ll be honest..!” He used all his remaining energies to make that comment, and you accepted it like he had complimented your dress.

That peak felt like heaven to the both of you, but before you two could turn off your minds from each other and appreciate the perfection of the sex happening between your hips, all the orgasm that had been built up to this point suddenly bursted out disastrously from both your systems, causing a deep groan to come out of him and a loud scream to come out of you.

Scaramouche was still paying attention to the moment because he knew he couldn’t finish inside you, so as soon as he felt his dick pulse hard because of his seed aching to come out, he pulled out from you and covered his tip with a hand, twitching in the agony of it wishing it was still shoved inside you as it spilled seed inside your womb while you simply allowed your own fluids to overcome your insides until it was tipping on your entrance.

Scaramouche was so shaky that it actually brought him to stop smirking and hiss with his teeth gritting on each other, still miring the scene of the disaster you two created and the cream pie in your entrance, swollen in red.

“Fuck…” He grunted, taking his hand to his eyes when his dick finally stopped spilling cum, getting annoyed at the mess it was. “Stay right there… I’ll take care of this mess.” He said, back to his normal voice tone as he crawled away form your body.

And now that fresh air could reach your body, you could finally feel just how sweaty you had gotten. You still had dress on, so you knew that the maids of the home would not have a fun time cleaning it up. Your makeup was probably also completely ruined too but you couldn’t confirm it. Scaramouche was probably feeling it too, since he also had clothes on, even more than you.

You couldn’t even tell where Scaramouche had headed because you all did was focus on staring the rooftop, but he soon came back with his hands rubbing each other under a cloth, another one in his pocket, and with the clothes he had taken away from you.

“I’ll tell the people downstairs you suddenly got sick, okay? Don’t worry, they have no idea what a person looks like after sex, they like to keep themselves ‘pure’ after all…” He explained as he wiped out your cream pie and put your panties and pantyhose back to their places in you.

And right after, he pulled out the other cloth in his pocket, folded it some times, rested it on your forehead and covered you with the sheets of the bed to make the play of ‘being sick’ more believable to whoever would come in to check on you.

“Expect me to knock on your window every night from now on, ok? Just like I did as a kid. I’ll be coming up to tell you how our little plan is doing and how it will work and to also check up on you.” He said with a surprisingly cute smile as he patted the top of your head and kissed your forehead, even it was covered by the cloth. “See you soon, my love, I love you.” He said before leaning up again and walking towards the door while rearranging his tie, closing it so gently that you couldn’t even hear its knock.

“I told you it would work, Y/N… if only I could show you the face the priest made when I gave him the money to make a fake marriage certificate… it was hilarious..! But it doesn’t matter to you now, does it? I know it’s hard to keep up with me, but this is the only way we can go for a fourth kid…”

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Taglist: @kindofscenic @kindofshyent @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes

[nadinescholtes]

Here is Laia from the new dimension on Eclipse and Puppet Show. Because Sunlight mentioned that he only likes men, she will become Eclipse's partner. This dimension is not a fully genderswap, so Laia stays a woman. And she doesn't have the strength update, she has normal animatronic like strength.

Story:

Laia was the mascot of the candy shop Sugarcoat, but when the old owner AND his wife died, the son didn't want to take over the shop and planed to get the shop demolished and build something else. He was also planing to decommission Laia, because this one hates animatronics. Laia heard this when the son was on the phone and with broken heart she planed her escape. She was very scared, she wanted to live.

The shop didn't close right away it was open for a few months so Laia had some time. But the son was starting to get violent and hurt Laia almost every day and she didn't dare to defend herself. Every other day she stole some money from the cash register and hid it in her room. And then she prepared her outfit to hide her body to look like a tall human woman (if you don't take a closer look).

Even though she had many clothes, she had very few to choose from because they couldn't have the Sugarcoat logo on them and needed to look somewhat normal.

She packed a backpack with the money, a change of clothes, and her portable power bank for an extra 8 hours of electricity (which is much easier to charge than herself directly). Charging cables and her little screwdriver kit just in case and a fuzzy blanket for comfort.

She couldn't take her laptop with games and movies with her in case of tracking. She doesn't have a tracking device built into her, because she was at the shop all the time anyway.

Her outfit: pants and a shirt, a jacket, her Halloween boots, gloves, and a bandana. In her backpack was her outfit like the one from SAMS.

And when she was ready, she escaped the shop at night. It wasn't easy to stay hidden. It was rare for her to find a safe place to charge, so she had to charge her portable power bank where she could (like McDonald's or other) and then plug it in herself to charge hidden in her jacket. She looked like a tall, homeless woman who was resting on a bench or something.

One night a group of people tried to attack and rob her, but she escaped and the next morning she found the building Freddy (Lefty?) Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. She snuck in, disguised as a tall woman under many people, and went unnoticed. She found her way in parts and service and hid there. She could rest and charge without being attacked for two weeks.

Poor Laia, she was on the run for 2 months it took a toll on her, she was so tired and scared. She found a crowbar and kept it close in case she needed to defend herself. She didn't have a plan for what to do in the future, all she knew was to survive.

And one day Eclipse found her, he first thought she was a tall human woman intruder but saw very fast that she was an animatronic, but didn't see her face. Laia was very scared, kept saying that Eclipse would not take her back to the shop and not to come any closer, and was ready to swing the crowbar if he did come closer.

Eclipse was confused and irritated, asking questions but Laia slipped out the door of parts and service looking for a new hiding spot. Clips didn't run after her, because he was busy and is not in the mood for this. But he kept an eye out when he left parts and service.

Days after he began researching about missing animatronics, but couldn't find anything. But he saw the news that Sugarcoat closed and saw pictures of Laia when she was working there. He recognizes her eyes.

He went to search the whole plex and found her somewhere in the basement sitting in the corner. When she saw him she got scared again, holding the crowbar up. Clips tried this time to calm her down, he was bad at it but it worked. He just wanted to know why she was there. She hesitated but then told him everything that happened in the shop and in the streets.

He said he would not tell everyone, not to help her but because he didn't care (yeah sure buddy, you are nice, deal with it!). He said she could stay there until he figured something out. He warned her if she hurt anyone or caused trouble, he would kick her out.

After days he kept checking on her and having some small talk. He brings her stuff to keep her occupied. He tried bringing her candy from the daycare (because mascot of the candy shop), but she hates candy now, so he brought her some chips. The ghost kids found her and started visiting her too and then FC found her and then the whole group knew about her.

Within time she befriended everyone and Eclipse hacked into Fazbear's system and registered Laia as an official Fazbear animatronic (the thing he did when he, Foxy, FC, and Puppet moved in). Her job was to be at the cash register at the theater, so Clips could leave to do other things. And because those two hung out a lot at the theater together, they grew close.

[3liza]

the other thing you learn personally about the "yeah but how else do i not be poor" answer to the military volunteerism discourse when you grow up with a combat veteran parent is that you will be significantly less employable after you discharge and so will your children, except of course back into the military, because you get extremely fucked up from getting shot at regardless of the circumstances. there's a reason we have a strong cultural stereotype of vietnam veterans as homeless crazy men, a stereotype the government has been trying to erase for a lifetime at this point. there are two kinds of ex-military fathers:

type 1: (audible, barely-suppressed insanity) "do not join the fucking military"

type 2: (audible, barely-suppressed insanity) "join the fucking military"

you get secondary PTSD from both of them but what happens next is up to you!

[hole34]

it has come to my attention some people don't donate their clothes????

DONATE YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES

it doesn't matter if you give them to a local shelter, a thrift shop, dropbox at a church or next to a dollar store, give them directly to a homeless person or to other family/friends that would fit them, any of these are very accessible options and it SHOCKS me that some people just throw away the clothes they don't fit/want anymore. what the FUCK.

and the thing about donating your old clothes is that it also doesn't matter if you're rich or middle class or poor or even homeless, if you have extra clothes you no can no longer fit or no longer need, you donate them.

i don’t know what you upper-middle class fuckers are up to 😭 there's a whole system we got going on here where you get your new clothes THAT YOU NEED from local thrift shops or dropboxes, wear those clothes as long as you can, and then when you cannot fit them or have excess clothes to get rid of, you donate them for the next round of people that need them. don't tell me poor people are the only ones who know how to do shit responsibly???

and i would like to emphasise childrens clothes are a MUST donate. adults' bodies will change and may not always fit the same clothes, but childrens clothes especially do not last and cannot be wasted. please. fucking. donate. your. child's. outgrown. clothes.

small children's clothes are a very big need for lower class people because unlike being a teen or adult, where you can modify your stuff, there is literally nothing else for small kids to wear. babies and toddlers and elementary kids NEED clothes, and babies and toddler and elementary kids' clothes do not last their lifetime. it is SUCH A SIMPLE SOLUTION.

[not to say everyone should necessarily get kids' clothes from donations - if you're upper class and have the money to buy new kids clothes, that's okay, and honestly probably better with the current state of consumerism because it's the lower class people that need the donations.]

hell the clothing dropbox at my therapy office is my main source of clothes (both getting and giving) and nearly all of it is just large men's pants.

please consider that there are people of all ages and sizes out there that need clothes, i honestly think that should be an obligation for EVERYONE. thank you for listening and please stay sustainable.

[mikakuna]

the fact that jason shared food with other hungry and homeless people when he was catatonic makes me feel so many emotions.

for one, it's so true to his character as a compassionate boy who gets so rightfully angry about the struggles impoverished communities have to continually face due to society's failures. this is the same boy who was homeless for about three years of his childhood, had to steal to survive, probably went long periods without food, and knew firsthand what it's like to actually be lonely. he's the boy who got mad at bruce for even insinuating he would drop jason off with the cops or social workers because he knew their true natures and how they treated poor kids, people, like him.

jason has always been about protecting and defending children and the defenceless to the point of disregarding moralities. we see this in his 80s robin run, as well as in utrh and lost days. his unmoving stance on their well-being is what's so captivating about him. he kills to protect children and easily agreed with/excused a woman who killed a rapist when he himself was only around 12-15 yrs old. sure, a bunch of people would agree with jason's reaction but it's especially important because he's a kid who grew up poor. he witnessed firsthand how many women have to suffer sexually at the hands of men to get by.

this is the real jason todd that so many comic writers now fail to capture in their comics. they completely turn him around and have him do things that in no way make sense to his character (not surprising since some literally admitted to hating him/not knowing enough about his robin run). jason todd is insanely compassionate-- that's his thing. he's empathetic to a fault. why erase that core part of his character?

[skay-ali]

The forgotten daughter / a possibility or alternate universe

The idea of ​​a pregnant but unlucky careless reader is honestly intriguing, while I'm very leaning towards her having her life together after leaving her family behind, it's almost unrealistic or unlikely.

As if ___ Wayne ceased to exist and now a new person, where there was a large wallet and card with infinite funds, went to a pocket with few coins, you became a homeless girl, almost a vagabond, it is clear that you ran away from home in a fit of fury and deep pain, burying itself in your heart, even if you don't want to admit it.

Then you spend the next few days on autopilot, working at places part-time, hanging out with friends, going from party to party, consuming alcohol and other drinks until you drop, experimenting with different drugs, moving from relationship to relationship with different guys.

All to forget the pain you felt, a somewhat peculiar medicine, which only relieved you, but did not make your suffering disappear. All that until you noticed strange things on your body, a slight assumption from your friend and a test, led you to shocking news... you were pregnant.

The possibility of it being from a criminal is very high, all the places you frequented would never be entertainment for a hero in his civilian life, something about high morals and that nonsense.

You were very screwed, first because you were broke, you worked in mediocre places with poor pay, you lived in the moment... which meant you didn't have a permanent home.

Giving your baby the best home was your mission, even if it meant it wouldn't be in your hands.

I can imagine other constants here…. The main thing would be that you end up with the baby, a feeling of feeling complete reaches you when your baby is born.

Your life now is a scale that is constantly balanced trying to give a good life to you and your baby.

Maybe you end up working at a superhero-themed restaurant where a lot of men go for the girls' outfits.

It was there where you met the crazy blonde villain, Harley Quinn, who quickly attaches herself to you after meeting you and forming a friendship with you, while the woman becomes a constant in your life.

Little by little she takes you to meet her friends or accomplices, from a psychiatrist, a businessman, a prosecutor, a botanist, they were part of your new circle of acquaintances, they end up liking you and even more so when they know your story as a careless girl, maybe also the part where they see you fighting to give your baby a great life.

It's still hard to figure out for a lot of these villains, but they grew attached to you and developed a deeper, darker feeling.

You end up working at a fancy bar where all your new acquaintances go.

It was there that you saw him again, one of your old and elusive loves, perhaps the possible father of your child, whom you left when you saw how dangerous he was and that he would take you directly to see your family again or maybe to jail.

Anyway, you avoided him like the plague the short time you had, because with the death of his father, he ended up inheriting the big business where you worked.

Although your job was never threatened during your stay at the iceberg lounge, due to the paternal affection that the owner of the business had for you, something strange but that you did not give much thought to.

Now it was in danger... with this man and his sister as the new owners.

Well, that is until your babysitters came to the bar with your baby, with the excuse that he was sick and they didn't know how to deal with a baby.

Everything turned upside down when the man added your baby's age and the last time you were together, something you never did out of fear.

Suddenly you were no longer a single mother, but you ended up forming a strange life with the father of your child, skeptical at first until the man's actions made you change your mind remembering why you were in love with him.

Even though his personality and work weren't the right fit, you couldn't help but fall for him. In addition to the fact that all your friends, “uncles” or “fathers” as they loved to call themselves or take the role, got into the situation and evaluated the man, even if he was the son of one of them, they all approved him in the end even if there were some frictions. when they lived together.

The worst thing is when the man that everyone thought was dead returned, who put aside the things of crime or his work as a big businessman, as he described it to you so as not to scare you, he proposed that they get married to give the little baby a family, Well, he didn't propose, he put a lot of pressure on you to accept it, using the excuse that he wanted his grandson to carry his last name and not the family he left you, even more so before his time to leave the world approached.

You accepted after so much thought, that would give you a family, something that you always longed for, you would be happy, you were being happy now with your baby, with your baby's father, his sister, his father and your boss, your extravagant aunts and uncles.

A big wedding was celebrated on the first day of winter in the city, on a beautiful pier, with everyone you knew.

.......

There was a great meeting, one that set off the alarms of some heroes, but those of a certain city.

A large number of villains gathered, that was not good, they knew it.

Oh when they encountered his evil plans, or rather at a party, it surprised them, even more so when they observed how a villain, son of one of the worst evils in the city, was about to marry, not with a normal person but with someone some knew.

Let's just say the bat family didn't know how to react.

......

A big smile adorned the groom's features, while the ceremony was taking place, he finally got what he planned so much, it took him a long time, plus he suffered a lot, not seeing his beloved for a long time and thinking that he would never see her again. he would find had destroyed him and made him madder.

But now he had done it, he finished his great plan, he had the woman he loved so much, all to himself, and with his last vows their lives would be completely tied.

Much more so with the baby, the fruit of their fleeting relationship, their little son would keep them together no matter what, if the marriage didn't work out.

Extra points for her father, who also appreciated his future wife much more than he did him, he knew very well that his father would make sure that the girl did not leave, as he could lose his daughter.

His sister was also helpful, she took root in your life, a new friend and confidant, capable of manipulating you.

Even though you were an adult, you were actually very naive like a child.

You gave him your trust, innocently, without knowing what kind of threat he was to you, a life full of freedom.

The time they spent together made him see how much he loved you, now that he had you he would do everything possible to never be separated from you.

[cntloup]

Medieval AU implied prostitution, homelessness, some foul language, punching and throwing around poor reader :(

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You feel everything start to fade away. The sounds are muffled and your vision is blurry. Though you can still make out some words, “Whore!”... “Wench!” and such.  

You feel light-headed and dizzy as you’re thrown around and countless flying punches land onto your face and body.  

You can sense the metallic taste in your mouth become more and more unbearable and start to get nauseous from all of it, the severity of the pain and swirling around too much. 

Until you begin to feel numb. There's no pain anymore. And you can sense yourself slowly drifting into unconsciousness. 

But suddenly, everything stops. There's no punch or being thrown around anymore.

You don’t notice much as you lay still on the ground, but you can see the large figure hovering above you through the blur.

And that’s the only thing you see before you fall unconscious. 

----- 

You wake up surrounded by warmth, something you haven’t felt in a long time and a delicious smell you can’t exactly put your finger on. 

You slowly blink the drowsiness away and are met by an unfamiliar room. 

You push back the several blankets that are stacked on top of you and shuffle out of bed. 

You start to walk towards the smell, groggily and confused by your surroundings through the fog in your brain, from sleep or the numerous punches you took to your head, you don’t exactly know. 

You walk into the kitchen to meet someone with his back to you, facing the pot above the fireplace. That must be the source of the delightful aroma. 

Bits and pieces of scattered images start to come back through your memory and you wince from the sudden sharp pain in your head. 

“You should rest. Go back to bed. I'll bring you some stew.” he says in a deep voice without turning to face you. 

And you remember. The large figure you saw yesterday... was it yesterday? You must have lost track of time. 

He must’ve saved you from the crowd of savages who claim themselves men of God but are surely the embodiment of the devil. 

“Thank you.” you say, your voice weak from the hoarseness of your throat. And that’s the only thing you say since you still feel weak, also you can sense that he is not much of a talker and you wouldn’t want to be a nuisance. 

“No need to thank me, love.” he responds, still in the same deep voice but softer tone. 

‘Love?’ you ask yourself, surprised of such sentiments from such a man. But you can’t deny that it does indeed make you feel a little bit fuzzy. 

It's been a long long time since any man has shown you any kind of affection, even the smallest bit, let alone save you from some heartless monsters and take you in his home, give you shelter and food. 

They always only care for their own pleasure. They even go as far as to wreck their own home, their family, only to get just a little bit of taste of that forbidden fruit. And you offer them just that.

But you are most grateful to this kind man. Whoever he is. And you won’t take it for granted.

ik i already have so many wips but i'm gonna start a series for this one since i'm obsessed with medieval au rn :')

[astrstqr]

☆˙˖ DESIRED REALITY !

things i script for my modern dr. lmk if you want more

⬭ racism, homophobia, ableism, transphobia, islamophobia, anti semitism, misogyny, global warming, climate change, overconsumption, overpopulation, deforestation, habitat destruction etc., used to exist, however they currently do not and will never suffer from them again.

⬭ everyone is treated equal

⬭ no “pro-life”

⬭ people are allowed to have abortions no matter what age they are

⬭ women products are free such as pads/tampons and birth control

⬭ everyone is educated on problems happening around the world

⬭ health care is free

⬭ natives are seen as the founders of America

⬭ south, west, southeast, & central Asians are seen too + people know Asia is not just the east

⬭ having guns are illegal unless your job requires you to have one and there is no other way to get a gun

⬭ periods last a day and are very light

⬭ covid-19 doesn’t exist

⬭ plastic surgery is normalized , isnt look down on but people rarely gets it unless necessary

⬭ children of any age are not sexualized in any form or shape

⬭ in public bathrooms the toilet is always clean, people don't knock on the stall you are in, there is always toilet paper, always soap and a hand dryer

⬭ the Chinese government isn't so harsh & gives the citizens freedom

⬭ people of color’s cultures are RESPECTED, & not appropriated

⬭ foster care takes treats kids nicely

⬭ nobody harms animals and kill shelters are not a thing

⬭ all country leaders are good and honest people

⬭ human trafficking does not exist

⬭ the government never watches you through your phone

⬭ trump never ran for president

⬭ no world hungers

⬭ no one is homeless, and everyone has a home

⬭ world peace

⬭ women and men are equal

⬭ it’s easy for people to make money

⬭ all sickness has a cure

⬭ bullying does not exist

⬭ black history and pride month still exist

⬭ the government isn't greedy and take care of their people

⬭ every country has money, food, isnt poor, etc. etc.

⬭ no toxic parenting

⬭ the Sewol ferry never had an accident

⬭ school shooting doesn’t exist

⬭ minimum wage is $15-$20 an hour

⬭ crimes are punished with justice in mind

⬭ history is recorded correctly

⬭ people can start driving at 15

⬭ Korea is not conservative

⬭ Korea doesn’t have an unrealistic beauty standard

⬭ Korea never divided, it is united and free. But south of korea is like the city part and the north is like rural part

⬭ pollution does not exist

⬭ earth air is clean and easy to breathe no matter where you are

⬭ no acid rain, urban sprawl, ozone layer depletion

⬭ allergies do not exist

⬭ the world is more colorful and not dull looking

⬭ coral reef still has it color

⬭ no water in unwanted places

⬭ grass is always green

⬭ if the population increases the planet gets bigger to produce resources to accommodate the growing population. it doesnt effect the mass of the earth or the gravitational pull

⬭ global warming doesn't exist

⬭ humidity doesn't ruin hair

⬭ the library of alexandria was never destroyed

⬭ apple pencils work on iPhone

⬭ everything is wireless, and nothing needs a cord

⬭ line is always short in stores and restaurants

⬭ buildings and renovating don’t take longer than a wee

⬭ you can book a hotel with being 18 or older

⬭ traffic is always fine

⬭ netflix have more of a large selection of things and dont remove shows/add shows no one wants

⬭ spotify is free

⬭ the switch have a web browser

⬭ tv companies still make tv shows similar to the 2000s and early 2010s , just updated to keep up with the times

⬭ the sims franchise lore is linear throughout the series

the open world features from sims 3 is still present in sims 4

sims 4 is like an updated and better version of sims 3 keeping all the features from the sims 3 (still including everything that is already in sims 4)

non of the games have bugs

every expansion pack etc is just added to the game as an update and no one has to pay for it

⬭ cheap jewelry doesnt tarnish

⬭ washer/dryer cycles are 15 mins

⬭ in the show dancing dolls everyone was treated equally and was never fake to each other.

⬭ people actually do the theme for the met gala and it’s always unique

୨୧⠀˙⠀⠀˖⠀ world aesthetic & vibe