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mikanotes · 2 years

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Hiii

Chishiya x reader that takes place in the first episode (season 2) when the king of spades starts shooting everyone and Chishiya protects reader in his own Chishiya ways 🙏🏻 And they both don’t get in the car with arisu & the others so they go off to find somewhere they can stay. Maybe established relationship & from chishiyas pov

TyTyTy ❤️

— GUNS AND SPADES

chishiya x gn!reader | ? words

genre: established relationship, slight angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, shooting, guns, blood, death, mentions of fainting, kinda spoilers for chishiya’s past, aib stuff… badly written might edit later idk

synopsis: Surviving in the Borderlands was something you’d been forced to get used to. Getting shot at for absolutely no reason when no game was ongoing was something else entirely.

author’s note: thank you for requesting! hope you like it!! to be honest i struggle with writing about chishiya this way a bit so this isn’t nearly as good as i wanted it to be. also i have no idea where i was going with this. nevertheless i hope it’s nice to read!

The sound of shots was clear. People scrambled around Shibuya Crossing, running for their lives without a care for one another’s. When faced with Death, people showed their true selves— Or whatever.

It would seem that, as per usual, your true self in this situation was to start running away before cursing at Chishiya and pulling him so he’d follow. Sure, he would start running eventually either way, but he certainly took his time.

“Chishiya, seriously.” you scoffed.

Thus the run began.

Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, you, and Chishiya were all lined up hiding behind an underground subway’s stairs entrance, crouching behind the wall and checking through the glass for the unknown shooter.

“Is this a game? Where are the rules?” Usagi exclaimed through panicked breaths. Arisu shook his head immediately.

“There’s nothing. This is just mass murder.”

“Seriously.” you mumbled, checking through the glass, “More people are coming this way. We should get moving.”

You all started running away in a group before realizing there was no point. Arisu yelled at everyone to split up and you all did. Running through a crowd of scared people, all confused and fearing for their lives— It was never a good feeling.

“Ah!”

Especially when some were too rushed in their run and tripped over, resulting in you falling along with them.

“I’m sorry!” the man yelled, scrambling to get up.

You laughed dryly, jumping up to your feet with ease. “You should be.” you breathed out, before ducking and running to the nearest corner. You turned and ran and avoided people and ran and it felt like hours of your breathing getting progressively worse and more heavy before you finally ran into a familiar face.

“[name]!” Kuina exclaimed, stopping in her tracks before you two could run into each other, “Come with me!”

She grabbed your wrist and ran to a car nearby, quickly pulling you to sit down behind it along with her. You exhaled a heavy sigh, your chest heaving up and down and your head spinning.

“You look tired.” a familiar voice spoke casually. You lifted your head up only to see Chishiya look at you with an easy smile, waving his hand from his seat on Kuina’s other side. You deadpanned.

“Yeah. And you don’t.” you scoffed, “Are you two okay?”

“I’m surprised I don’t have a single wound, honestly.” Kuina sighed, head hitting the car’s door in exhaustion, “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?“

You glanced at Chishiya and he gave you a slight nod, affirming that he was okay. You nodded back before looking over your shoulder. “There’s people on the other side of the road. Usagi and Arisu, I think.”

Kuina furrowed her eyebrows before moving her head to the side, signaling you to move over and switch places with her. You did, as discreetly as possible, and let her check whatever it is she wanted to. Chishiya waved two fingers in front of your face and brought your attention to him.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Just tired. I knew things weren’t over but I expected a little break after the hell that went down at the Beach, at least.”

“The hell continues, I guess.” he said casually, smiling.

You could only sigh.

“You have to stay focused if you don’t wanna die!” Kuina suddenly yelled. You looked over to her and jumped at the sound of shooting right at the road the car you were hiding behind was parked on. Chishiya grabbed your shoulder to pull you back when he did, only relaxing when the shots stopped. Kuina scoffed, “Where the fuck are they shooting from?”

Just as she sat back down properly, an airship of sorts appeared over everyone, creating a looming shadow that did nothing to reassure the players. Chishiya hummed. “The King of Spades.”

“Great.” you commented. There were probably hundreds of pieces of fabric tied together to form a giant King of Spades card floating in the sky, attached to the bottom of the airship. You wondered just how much more of this hell you would have to go through before you could return to the comfort of the hell you knew. The normal world.

Chishiya leaned forward and handed Kuina something. It looked like a can and… Oh. You’d seen him make this back at the Beach one day. He’d made three. They were small bombs but they could definitely help out if you ever needed it. His words. He handed you one as well and you inspected it. “Here you go. A good luck charm.”

“What’s this? A bomb?” Kuina asked.

“Use it when you’re in a pinch.” he said casually.

“You have questionable hobbies, Chishiya.” you hummed, spinning the object in your hand before putting it in your jacket, “Thank you.”

“I second that. Thanks.” Kuina chuckled.

The sound of shots rung in the air as well as several running footsteps along with it. You checked Kuina’s side and saw Arisu and Usagi hide behind the car directly next to yours— Just a few meters away. Kuina tilted her head, “Are you hurt?”

“Did you seriously stop to try and save someone?” you followed after glancing at the dying boy they’d seemingly carried all the way there, and Arisu looked at you with wide eyes, before looking away and grimacing. Nothing new, you thought.

Shots fired again but the sound didn’t drown out the clear, loud honking of a car. You thought you’d imagined it, honestly, because logically speaking there was no reason for anyone to not only show themselves so obviously with a moving car but also announce themselves by honking.

Yet when the entire group looked over to the road there was, indeed, a car waiting. Ann and Tatta. Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hurry up! Get in!” Tatta yelled.

Usagi and Arisu were the first to run into the car, closely followed by Kuina. Chishiya, irritating as he could get, refused to take his hands out of his pockets to run. You were a bit behind, careful, and caught up to him quickly. “What part of hurry up are you missing?!” you exclaimed.

Chishiya stopped and stared at the ground. You were about to question why he wasn’t going into the car despite standing right in front of it but followed his gaze.

A grenade.

“This is bad. Run!” he instantly yelled, pulling you back and moving to start running away, “Get going! Drive!” he told Tatta, knowing there was no point in risking getting into the car anymore.

“[name]!” Usagi yelled.

Kuina seemed just as worried, “Chishiya!”

The sound of their voices were quickly drowned out when your head hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk as you and Chishiya jumped as far away as possible from the bomb. The explosion went off before your senses could start coming back and just as the car started driving away. You covered the sides of your head with your arms and felt Chishiya’s arm wrap around them.

Everything was spinning. For a moment, you weren’t sure you were alive. Then Chishiya’s voice brushed that thought away.

“We have to move.” he tried to speak over all the noise. You nodded faintly and got up on your feet to the best of your ability, before running away with him— Bullets following you closely.

To Chishiya, this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been there.

If he had been alone during that shooting, even including the part where he fails to get in the car because of a grenade— it would all have been fine because Chishiya Shuntaro is used to dealing with whatever hellish cards the Borderlands hand him. But that’s where the problem lies;

You’re there.

Chishiya met you before the cruelty of the reality of the world stripped him of his empathy— Forced him into the stoicism of a person suppressing their own emotions. He met you before his job ruined a part of him, and his feelings seemingly didn’t waver one bit at that. The importance of your wellbeing had been something he cared about before but even with attempts at erasing his emotions he couldn’t erase the quickening pace of his heartbeat if he heard you weren’t doing well.

Chishiya made the mistake of letting himself fall for someone back in college (though he claims fall is too ridiculous) and now has to deal with the pains of feeling like he needs to protect said person. You were good at dealing with things yourself, too— Sure, but that didn’t mean anything to the instinctive worry that held him by the throat.

So he watches you, unconscious due to the amount of things that happened in a few seconds, lying on the ground of some empty apartment complex— With something anyone could easily mistake as disdain. It used to be easy dealing with complicated things when he was alone. He was also sure playing games would be so much more simple if you weren’t by his side. All he would have to care for would be his own survival and that would just be it. Now he had to fear Heart games and count you into every calculations he made to get himself out of a deadly game of chess.

It was almost infuriating how much you unconsciously forced him into changing his ways, even after all these years. He figured that was just how things went when you loved someone.

When you shift in your sleep and start sighing, eyes slowly blinking to force yourself awake, Chishiya doesn’t feel the smile form on his lips. “You’re lucky we found this place before you decided to pass out.”

“My God.” you grumbled, sitting up with some effort. “Have you just been sitting there? I’m surprised. Were you watching over me, or something?”

Even in situations like this, you just didn’t miss an opportunity to try and tease him. It’s not like it ever worked, but the attempts were amusing.“You weren’t out for that long.” he spoke as calmly as usual, “Sleep fine?”

“I dreamt of fireworks at Shibuya.” you said, and your voice dropped to a silent low. The shift from casual to slight anxiousness was barely noticeable, but very obvious to Chishiya. You cracked your neck and stretched. “Guess my head decided to make people yelling and loud sounds seem more happy than how it really was.”

“At least your mind’s version of the events that just transpired is less disturbing and nightmarish. Glad to know you slept well.” he said, pushing himself up to stand. “We should check the game nearby. I don’t like the idea of us standing there waiting.”

“Less chances of getting shot by that Kind of Spades, I guess.” you sighed, following him to stand up, “Just as many to get killed, though.”

Chishiya held his hand up and you looked at it, then at him, and a small smile pulled at your lips. You high-fived him and then you both wrapped your fingers around the other’s hand.

“Not if I’m there.” he claims, smirking a little. You scoff lightly and Chishiya knows you feel slightly better. It’s enough for now. The feelings of anxiety are pushed back far away enough for you to focus during games. Enough for you to play properly and keep yourself alive. Chishiya nodded a bit, “Let’s get going.”

“Alright.” you tightened your hold on his hand and you both walked towards the game near where you were staying at— Steeling yourselves for whatever the Borderlands had prepared for you.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #x reader

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dollielliot · 16 days

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𐙚ྀིྀ ⠀︵　info on the Apalchee highschool shooting that happened today, 9/4/24˖ ㅤ૮𐔌ྀི ´ ཀ ྀི 𐦯ྀིა⠀

The 14-year-old suspect in the fatal mass shooting at a Winder, Georgia, high school has been identified as Colt Gray, Georgia Bureau of Investigation Director Chris Hosey said at an afternoon news conference. The suspect is a student at Apalachee High School who will be charged with murder and will be handled as an adult as he moves through the criminal justice system, Hosey and Barrow County Sheriff Jud Smith added.

Two teachers and two students were killed, Hosey said. Nine other victims were taken to hospitals, according to the officials. The gunfire sent students and faculty desperately scurrying for cover as schools across the county went into lockdown and parents scrambled for information. Wednesday’s shooting is the deadliest of the 45 school shootings so far this calendar year, according to a CNN analysis. It is one of 11 school shootings with four or more deaths since 2008 when CNN first started tracking school shootings. Authorities said the first report of an active shooter came in at 10:20 a.m. ET. A school resource deputy assigned to Apalachee High confronted the shooter, who got on the ground and was taken into custody, Smith told reporters.

The witness sat next to the suspected shooter

Lyela Sayarath, 16, told CNN the alleged shooter sat next to her in an algebra class. She said he left class early, around 9:45 a.m., but didn’t take a bathroom pass. She thought he might be skipping. Toward the end of class, someone told her teacher over the loudspeaker to check their email, she said. Shortly after, Gray was outside the classroom door, which was shut, Lyela said. Another student who went to the door jumped backward when she saw he had a gun. "I guess he saw we weren’t gonna let him in,” Lyela said. “And I guess the classroom next to me, their door was open, so I think he just started shooting in the classroom.” At first, she told CNN she heard a burst of gunfire – maybe 10 to 15 shots – and then they were “kind of just Students dropped to the floor and crawled to the corner, Lyela said.

“It seemed like this wasn’t something he planned too well or that he wasn’t really strong with the gun because he didn’t try and shoot our door. Once he saw he couldn’t get in our room, he just went to the next one.”

Latest developments

The high school had received an earlier phone threat, multiple law enforcement officials told CNN. The phone call Wednesday morning warned there would be shootings at five schools, and that Apalachee would be the first. It is not known who placed the call. It was not immediately known whether the assailant had some connection with his victims, the sheriff said, though officials stressed that will be part of the investigation. Schools in Barrow County will be closed for the rest of the week.

Student texted mom: ‘I’m scared’

Erin Clark was at work Wednesday morning when she got a series of text messages from her son, a senior, who was attending class at Apalachee High School.

“School shooting.”

“I’m scared,” he wrote.

“pls” “I’m not joking,”

“I’m leaving work,” Clark replied. “I love you,” her son, Ethan Haney, 17, wrote back.

“Love you too baby,” his mom texted before racing to the high school.

Clark told CNN her son heard eight or nine gunshots before he closed his classroom door and, with the help of another classmate, moved chairs and tables to block the door.

Clark told CNN she was “absolutely terrified” when she read her son’s messages. “Just kept praying he’d stay safe,” she said.

Schools in the county went into lockdown

As emergency responders came from several counties, video from outside the school showed at least five ambulances and a large law enforcement presence at the campus, and at least one medical helicopter could be seen airlifting a patient from the scene. At the football field, where authorities had students gather, people lowered their heads and formed a prayer circle in the end zone, standing on the letters for “Apalachee” as their classmates milled around the field. All schools in the Barrow County School System, which includes the high school, were placed on lockdown and police were sent out of an abundance of caution to all district high schools, according to the sources, but there are no reports of secondary incidents or scenes. Some of the critically injured were removed by helicopter, and additional helicopters are on standby.

Atlanta Trauma Center and other hospitals take patients

Grady Health System – a Level 1 trauma center in Atlanta, about an hour's drive from Winder – received one gunshot wound victim from the incident who was transported by helicopter, a hospital spokesperson told CNN. Earlier, a source with knowledge of the situation who is not authorized to speak to the media, told CNN Piedmont Athens Regional Hospital in North Georgia received two victims from the shooting. The source said one victim was an adult with a gunshot wound to the stomach and was in surgery, and another was a minor with unspecified injuries. Three gunshot victims were taken to nearby hospitals following the shooting, according to a hospital official, and five other patients reported to the hospital with symptoms related to a panic attack. Two gunshot victims were taken to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Barrow with non-life-threatening injuries, Northeast Georgia Health System spokesperson Layne Saliba said. Four other patients came with symptoms related to panic attacks.

Another gunshot victim was taken to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Gainesville with non-life-threatening injuries, Saliba said, and an additional patient came to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Braselton with symptoms related to a panic attack.

Georgia governor sends prayers and says he can send resources

Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp has directed all available state resources to assist at the scene, he said in a statement on social media. The governor urged “all Georgians to join my family in praying for the safety of those in our classrooms, both in Barrow County and across the state.” President Joe Biden has been briefed on the incident, the White House said, offering federal support to state and local officials.

“His administration will continue coordinating with federal, state, and local officials as we receive more information,” the White House said in a statement. Attorney General Merrick Garland similarly said the US Department of Justice “stands ready” to support the community after the shooting. “We are still gathering information, but the FBI and ATF are on the scene, working with state, local, and federal partners,” Garland said at a meeting of the Justice Department’s Election Threats Task Force.

Winder had a population of about 18,338 as of the 2020 census, according to the US Census Bureau The Barrow County School System is the 24th largest school district in the state, per the district’s website. It serves about 15,340 students, 1,932 of whom are enrolled at Apalachee High School.

#tc community #tcc tumblr #tccblr #teeceecee #truecrimecommunity #school shooters #tcctwt #true cringe community #tcc fandom #mass shooters #mass shooting tw

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hereforthehitsbaby · 29 days

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Watch Me | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Teacher F!Reader

Synopsis: You can’t always be Little Miss Perfect. Sometimes you need to let off some steam, and Mr. Adams knows just how.

Warnings: Age Gap (Legal,) Reader is in her mid 20’s and Cooper is 46, Implied Murder, Grinding, PiV Sex, Biting, Slapping, Hair Pulling, Use of Daddy, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Abuse, Abusive Ex, Dom!Cooper, Infidelity, Cheating, Spanking, Choking, ROUGH SEX (and I am not using that lightly, this is FUCKING ROUGH)

Rating: M

Word Count: 10k

Author’s Note: So I really need to stop writing Cooper in his psycho form. I want soft Cooper….BUT THE PARASITE IN ME WANTS THE PSYCHOPATHY OF COOPER. Also if this makes no sense don’t judge, I took an edible and let my mind take course.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

You love your job, absolutely adore it. There is nothing better in this world than teaching. Something about mentoring kids and creating core memories that they will look back on with gratitude, is why you started in the first place. The teachers that made a lasting impact on you are also the same ones who believed in you when you said you wanted to be someone, to create and show the world you are capable of. Tumultuous home life crushed your spirit day in and day out, leaving you feeling worthless. At least with your mentors, they made you remember how only you can control your own life. If anyone knows you well enough, they know you need control.

Teaching initially gave you that control when you were fresh out of college; Being able to see kids grow and flourish into young adults was rewarding. Leaving a lasting impact was your goal but, in the state America is in today – being a teacher isn’t ideal. Between mass murders and serial killers – you couldn’t tell which you were scared of more. At first it was a what if, but the further you got into the school year, the more threats that arose, left you on edge. You needed to have a way to blow off steam, you needed a way to put those days of fear behind you. Seeking out a second employer was not ideal, with how tight your schedule already was, it left you no time for you. Which in theory was fine, being a single woman living in Philadelphia was exactly what it seemed; Dreary and bored. You needed that oomph to make you excited again, to live in the moment versus in your head. Chester Springs is quiet, quaint, exactly what you were looking for. A city where no one knows that you are a schoolteacher, a place where they think you are something else entirely.

Entertaining was what you were good at, turning tricks got you through college in Boston. It wasn’t a shameful thing, a girl got to do what she’s got to do. Aquarius is a higher end strip club, to call it what it is. Not a typical hole in the wall joint to mask money laundering. Aquarius was more in the line of escorts – sure there were still pole dancing and private suites but, not everyone could get in. A club where married men come to cheat on their wives, where businessmen always in control let off a little steam, and where stockbrokers come to give a last hurrah before marriage. It was nice, refreshing even to have a place where you weren’t ogled like prey – no, you were respected, in control. It was your haven after a long work week; Come Friday through Sunday night – you were the Queen of them all.

Being the head dancer meant you got to say no to those creeps who snuck in, those who want to get sucked off and fucked before they touch their wives again. You got to pick what music you danced to, who you interacted with, hell you even got to choose your pricing. To be fair you busted your ass off for four years to do so, you earned every moment of your employment. It meant you could live that double life comfortably, be able to drive a Porsche and hire a housekeeper. You were comfortable, no longer struggling. You were eternally grateful.

Friday nights tend to be specialty nights – meaning any group of first responders got half price to celebrate the work they do for the state. The surrounding towns, up to sixty miles out, were invited and treated like kings. As a sign of appreciation, tonight happened to be the Philadelphia fire department’s night to be pampered; The less you knew the better. I mean, your boss never told you that your hometown was going to be the subject of tonight’s praise – just like those guys didn’t need to know you were teaching in their district. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you ran a finger under your lip to clean up your lipstick – the mauve pink color suiting your skin tone beautifully. The music was pumping, and the cheering was growing louder. Tonight was going to be a good tip night – you could feel it.

“Baby girl, you’re up in five,” Moira, your boss sang out – patting the top of your head with a motherly touch. You felt warmth spread through your body; Arousal mixed with nerves. No matter how long you danced, you always got nervous when it was your time to shine. Still, tonight was no different from the last – this was your night. “I’m in control. I have control. I am control.” You spoke to yourself in a soft voice, causing Veronica to rub your arm – praying silently for you. “Lord, please make sure she has the sexiest dance tonight. Please make sure she catches the hottest firefighter and gets a good dick down. And Lord? Make sure her tits pop like you deserve.” Ronnie spoke in a serious tone, causing you to cackle as you stand. “You know I love you, Ron Ron.” You kissed her cheek as you strutted off to her right, causing her to smack your ass in the process. “Show them titties off baby!”

Rolling your eyes, you shed your bathrobe against the coat rack near the backstage entrance, your platform heels clacking sexily against the linoleum. With Halloween only a few weeks away, the club decided to get spooky season started early with your routine. Your sound of choice was Heaven by Julia Michaels – whilst you wore a lacy red number, accentuating your body in every place you adored. The straps around your midsection, thighs, and arms made you feel badass and hot all wrapped into one. Where tonight was to honor the firefighters, you added a little yellow leather jacket to cover your upper half, and a plastic fire caps for the laughs.

Hearing the beat and bass rumbling through your feet, you heard Moira’s voice announcing your stage name. You didn’t see any faces but outlines of figures; Broad and strong. A line of sweat ran down your back from excitement, then ran cold at all eyes on you. Usually, you were never nervous to dance and found it quite relaxing. But tonight, there was a heaviness that loomed in the air. Anxiety crept up your legs, making you shake slowly as you wrapped your left leg around the pole. Doing a fireman’s slide, you spun your body gently – gliding through the air with open eyes, trying to see why you felt so uncomfortable. All the men stared at you like you were an angel from above, like you were the greatest thing on this Earth. But one set of eyes stared into yours with a predatory gleam – one that caused your core to tighten. Staring at you in the direct center of the club, was none other than Firehouse 721’s very own Fire Chief, Cooper Adams.

You had a long, extensive history with Mr. Adams, being his daughter Riley’s teacher. Riley Adams is your star pupil, the student every teacher strives to have. She isn’t an overachiever but, she loves to get those A’s and B’s. Always first to help out a classmate or stick up for her friends, she was a true hero of the seventh grade. In fact, she would often stay after school with you and keep her dad waiting – which in turn would cause Cooper to come in and have weekly progress updates on Riley. There was never animosity with Cooper but, the ways his eyes tended to wash over you, made you burn. A single father of two, working day in and day out to protect the city, he was the whole package wrapped into one. But you knew it was inappropriate to do anything with your student’s parents, you took your job too serious.

One incident happened earlier this year when Riley stuck up for a kid in class, leading for the main mean girl to put slime in Riley’s blond curls. Riley in turn socked her directly in the face, breaking her nose. It turned into Cooper getting into a spat with the mother of the girl – and you needing to mediate. Riley got in school suspension for two weeks, and Cooper was not having it. Though Riley thought her punishment was fair, Cooper thought she shouldn’t have anything against her. Your hands were tied, there was nothing you could do. At the end Cooper understood but, that gleam he is giving you now – felt the same way as that day. Like he was going to eat you whole, and spit you back out.

His ember eyes glowed against the red lights, sparkling with darkness and sex appeal. You felt yourself give out a little moan as you dropped to your knees, running your hands up and down your torso. Tossing your head back as the cap fell off, you rolled your hips against the stage – acting very demure with the song. But your eyes were low lidded, staring at Cooper, watching how his thick thighs twitched with need, his hand readjusting the crotch of his pants. Cooper Adams was staring at you like he wanted to devour you in front of the club, like he wanted to stake his claim and you’d be damned – you’d let him in a heartbeat. Nerves snaked their way across your stomach as you realized the entire firehouse was there – parents of the students you taught, who damn well might’ve known your face. You felt your palms grow clammy as you felt yourself up, your breath hitching. “Breathe. You’re almost done,” you whisper to yourself under the music, closing your eyes as you slid sideways on stage, your ass up in the air as you got your chest as low as you could go.

Cooper’s whole firehouse was watching you like a hot, tossing back and shots and smirks as they watch you. The rain of twenties and hundred-dollar bills felt like magic, knowing you were putting on the best show possible for them. But you hid your face beneath your hair on purpose; You didn’t need this to get out. Once you hit the stage you slid to your back, windmilling your legs as you clack your platform heels; The sound reverberating off the room. Everyone cheered as loud as they could, clapping as the song started to wind down to its end. Yet the entire time Cooper never moved, never took his eyes off of you, and never changed his facial expression. He looked like he was going to eat you alive, he was going to devour you and leave no crumbs. But you couldn’t tell if that glimmer in his eye was rage or admiration He probably thinks I’m a slut.

“Gentlemen give it up for our superstar!” Moira yelled over the mic, causing the whooping and cheers to ring out. Smiling like you weren’t nervous at all, you gave a bow before starting to walk back to the dressing room, your smile dropping to a mortified look – hands shaking uncontrollably as you slid behind the curtain. “Holy shit, girl! You fucking killed it!” Mackenzie called out as Veronica took the stage next, blasting Joan Jett. Macks face slid from a stellar smile to a worried glance as she evened out her lipstick, the baby pink shade complimenting her whole aesthetic so well. Placing the tube down, she came up to your front, grabbing your face between her hands. “What’s wrong? Was it the guys? I know it’s nerve wracking when it’s first responders but you did-“

“They’re from my district, my town.” You cut Mack off, sucking in a deep breath as you felt tears well in your eyes. Looking up to avoid smudging your makeup, you sniffle as you hold onto Mackenzie’s arm for anchorage. “I fucking teach their kids, Mack. Those dads fucking saw me here! No one knows I dance, for fuck’s sake. If they know, if they see…I’m fucked.” You knew one day it was going to happen, that someone, or someone’s you knew would stroll in and see you performing – see your tits or ass on display, and how you worked your way around the club. The day that happened you swore you would get up and leave – school, the club, town – move across the country and start fresh. Change your name, pretend this wasn’t your life before and have endless possibilities. Now? That wasn’t a choice.

“Slow your role there, buttercup. It’s not that big of a deal. I work in Daycare. Ronnie works as a speech therapist. Moira is the principal of a high school in town. It’s not a huge deal. We survive, you can too.” Hearing Mackenzie say that was reassuring but, still the gnawing at your gut made you want to redo your entire life from scratch. “Was it the chief that freaked you out, is that why you’re tweaking?” She must’ve been talking about Cooper – I mean who else would it be? Deep down, you hated to admit it but it was true. Having Cooper, the sexiest dad in town, see you stripped down and showing your sensual side made you feel like you were on fire. The way his eyes would watch every movement, like he was cataloging it in his head; All it would take is for him to say what you do and poof – everything you’ve worked for.

“If you’re worry about him spilling, stop. He was eye-fucking you so hard I’m surprise he didn’t cream his pants.” Mackenzie’s shrill laugh flowed through your ears, just as Ronnie was done. Barbe Girl by Aqua starting blaring through the sound system as Mackenzie perked her breasts up in her baby pink bra, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Go talk to him, it’ll make you feel better.”

She was right, maybe if you explained to Cooper what you are doing, he’d understand. Probably pull Riley out of your class but that was okay – because at least you tried, and that’s all you could ever do. Sucking in a deep breath, Ronnie grabs the towel from beside you with a laugh – exhaling with a relieved smile. “Dude, DUDE! That fire chief wouldn’t fucking look my way. He’s all yours, baby doll.” Ronnie shook her head with a laugh as she passed by you, heading towards the locker room. It made your stomach flip that Cooper only watched you, not giving the other girls the time of day. It made you feel special, like after all this would be okay. Maybe it would, maybe this is all going to work out just fine.

“Baby doll, you got a private dance in room six. Cameras are off in there, so if you need anything just holler!” Moira shouted over Aqua, using her two fingers to motion you to the private rooms. The relieved sigh you exhaled calmed your nerves, your eyes no longer wavering at the thought of what you’d tell Cooper about your lifestyle. Maybe whoever is in six would take your mind off it – maybe you didn’t even have to see him. I mean its taboo, right? Fire department going to a strip club on the State’s dime. If blackmailing was needed, you knew Moira would stick right by your side. Swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, you slowly started to make your way across the club to the left side.

The spiral, velvet staircase was a perfect add on to the club – making it feel sophisticated, but also retro. You loved how it felt against your hands and feet as you climbed up, rubbing against the velvet banister. It was the best way for you to ground yourself before doing a private dance. Those could go anyway you wanted – depending on the price. Tonight though? The money didn’t fucking matter – what mattered was clearing your head after the inner turmoil you laid on yourself. To say you were drained was an understatement – you haven’t been this exhausted at the club since your ex tried to kidnap you a few months back, held you at knife point behind the dumpster because you didn’t want to go with him. Never again, you promised yourself never again.

As you reached the top of the landing, you put on your game face. Giving the empty space your very best sensual look. Eyes half lidded, the sway in your hips dropping to a softer cadence, your lips puffed out to plump them a little bit. You were going big tonight; all the stops were going to be let out. They were going to get the best dance of your fucking life, and a little happy ending to top it off. Shit, maybe seeing Cooper did turn me on. You shook your head at the thought, feeling your core sopped at the mental image. Biting down on your bottom lip, you took a deep breath as you wrapped your delicate hand around the doorknob, turning it softly. Closing your eyes you make sure to push the door open and slip inside. The plush fabric on the wood made your heart calm down, putting you in your mental place before spinning around.

“Hi there, sweet-“ you began as you spun around, the smile you plastered on for show slipped – causing a look of shock to cover your face. You felt like a statue; Standing stone still, eyes widening at the realization. The black velvet couch was occupied by one man, and one man only – staring at you with such intensity your body vibrated. One arm draped over the back of the couch whilst the other rested against his thigh, fingers twitching inconsistently. Sunset colored eyes stared intently at you, creased as if contemplating what his next move would be. A plush pink tongue slipped between his lips, pulling his bottom one in between his teeth. Cooper Adams was your special dance of the night, he wanted a private dance, in the one room where cameras didn’t work – it all made sense now. Gulping down the pool of spit that coated your mouth, you stuck your hands out like a frightened animal, slowly walking sideways in the room. You knew he could pounce at any time; The unpredictability was making you weak.

“Sit.” He stated matter-of-factly, patting his muscular thigh. His lips pursed in such a way where you knew he was growing frustrated. At the sight of his jeans tightened in the crotch area, you could assume why he was crabby. “Mr. Adams-“ you began to explain yourself, trying to justify why you were here and why this doesn’t take away from your teaching abilities but Cooper wasn’t having it. Raising the hand that was draped over the couch, he let out a pessimistic laugh, sliding his tongue over his teeth as he never broke your line of sight. “I said, sit. Don’t make me say it again.” The tone in which he spoke was strict, to the point; He said what he wanted now it was your duty to obey. Or else, you knew something bad would happen.

Nodding in submission, you hung your head lower than you would’ve liked, moving graciously in your heels as you tried not to focus on Cooper’s predatory stare. Seeing him like this was new for you – every time the fire department would give the safety assemblies, he was always so happy and chipper. The best thing in his life besides Riley and Logan was making sure the community was safe. He did it with a smile, so excited and proud knowing he was making a difference. That soft Cooper you fell for, like every other teacher, dissipated and instead a greedy, dark man sat in his place. His soul always shined brightly against the backdrop of the city – now it was obsidian, tainted by rage and hunger. It was sexy, in a fucked up way.

As you reached Cooper lap, you stood tall in front of his seated self. Placing both hands on the back of the couch to box in his thick neck, slowly you crept forth to place your knees on the opposite sides of his thighs. You weren’t even allowed to straighten yourself out as Cooper grasped at your waist, pinning your hips to his impatiently. The grunt of approval that slipped passed his parted lips was sent straight to your core, the slick mess made in your panties evident to his treatment. That dark look fell away from Cooper’s face as a shiny smile fell upon him, beaming up at you like you were a pretty new toy. “There, doesn’t that feel better?” There was a sadistic undertone to his words; He was toying with you after all.

Looking down into Cooper’s eyes, you felt your fingertips grow clammy against the plush couch, your breath hitching at his question. “Cooper, pl-” You tried to start again but were met with Cooper tsking at you, chuckling exuberantly at your annoyance. You needed to explain yourself, you needed to give yourself a chance to explain before he got the wrong idea. But every time you were trying to justify your career choices, you were shut out. You knew deep down Cooper wasn’t doing this on purpose but, it felt very fucking pointed. Sighing out in frustration, you sucked your teeth as you watched him, pursing your lips to get your point across. “My, my. Now I knew you could have a darker side but, being a stripper AND a teacher?” he tsked, grazing his eyes along your body as you kneeled still. His eyes met the line of your cleavage, using his thick fingers to rub against the straps that barricaded your breasts. The simple touch made your body ignite. Instinctively you grinded down on him, feeling his hard cock tighten under his jeans. Hissing out at the feeling, Cooper brought his freehand around to smack your ass, gripping hard at the supple flesh. “Bad, bad girl.”

“Mr. Adams, this isn’t-“ You shook your head, a headache booming behind your eyes at the maltreatment. Your vision was growing hazy on the sides as you stared dead on at Cooper, wondering why he wasn’t giving you the chance to say anything and only cutting you off. “What? Appropriate?” He laughed. It wasn’t a laugh you heard before, but one that was chaotic – unhinged to say the least. Cooper’s face contorted into a psychopathic grin, his hand snaking up the front of your body, up your torso, and finally landing on your neck. “What’s not appropriate is not staring at the client while you’re making them rock fucking hard.” He chided as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to your pulse point, causing your head to grow hazy. You couldn’t help that your eyes were rolling back into your head at the feeling of being choked by Cooper. Your life lying in the palm of his hand, he controlled your every move. “You silly little slut, did you like watching me adjust myself?”

It was a no-brained response. You couldn’t hide it any longer. “Yes,” you whispered. The rough nature of how he was grabbing at your throat caused your words to come out soft, timid and shy. The cold metal of his wedding band was delicious in contrast with the warmth of your skin. Nothing like how you were in parent teacher conferences. This time around it was different – you no longer had control of the room but were just another pretty pawn to be stepped on. Crinkling his brow, Cooper shook his head, being unsatisfied. “Uh, uh uh. Louder.” Cooper commanded you to say it again, but wanted it loud enough for him to hear. You knew this was a tactic to fuck with you, to put you right where he wanted this whole time. Being rough like this wasn’t anything new to you – after all this is what you preferred in your sex life. But the way he commanded you was unlike anything else – even how your ex was. Yet he didn’t stop when you said to – you knew Cooper would. “Yes.” It was a choked moan as you met his gaze, growling out softly as the word slipped.

“Good girl, now was that so hard to admit?” Cooper’s hand released itself from around your throat, instead rubbing circles into the column of your throat. You felt the flush take over your body as your blood started to move again. Cutting off the oxygen supply to your brain made you feel foggy, coming down from that now put everything into perspective. That dark, eerie look in Cooper’s eyes was hunger. That glint of something deeper, the restraint he was holding – snapped into a thin corded line, causing you to grovel for him. You hated admitting to yourself that you could cum just from this, right here and right now. This was all anyone in town wanted – a chance with Cooper Adams, the fire chief and married father of two.

“What’s your plan here, Cooper?” You managed to speak with a lilt in your tone, trying to gain back your composure. It was impossible for you to suppress the giggle that slipped out as you asked that, finding it quite hilarious that the one time he let you speak a full question without interruption, is when you ask what his intentions are with you. It was comedic at this point, he truly was fucking with you on such a deep level, it almost felt like a joke. But no, it was psychopathy. You never would’ve pegged Cooper Adams – wholesome girl dad – as a psychopath or having those kinds of tendencies. A rougher, darker side maybe only his wife sees. His wife. He’s married. Was it awful that that didn’t bother you? You never met Rachel and Riley never talked about her. It was always Cooper, Cooper, Cooper. “Nothing, just to enjoy my daughter’s teachers’ company.” The sickeningly sweet way Cooper said that made your blood boil, using it against you in a way. The power trip running rampant in his mind as you cowered. Chuckling out of sheer frustration, you shot back: “Are you going to tell everyone, now?”

“And expose you for being such a fucking whore? Now where is the fun in that?” Cooper pouted playfully, smirking. Your body reacted in such a way to being called a whore that it was morally frowned upon. The way your eyes rolled back as they shut, your face screwed up almost in pain, and your grip tightened now on his shoulder. You couldn’t let him have the upper hand but for fucks sake, you wanted him to. Everything in your life was always about control, why not give that up for a bit. Looking at Cooper’s entertained face, you drew up your best puppy dog eyes – showing the sheen of tears covering your irises as you slightly frowned. “Aw, what’s wrong Princess? I thought you like being degraded. After all, you’re always looking up porn with it.”

That threw you off of your game, your demeanor dropped, and your body was running cold. There was no way in hell for him to know that based on an acute observation, or even a fucking hunch. No, this went deeper. Your brain started to go over every memory you have had lately of this encounter, trying to find a possible solution for why he would know that. “How did you…?” You caught yourself midsentence as you remembered the alert you got from Safari the other night, IP tracking stating that: Your IP address has been profiled by 23 trackers in the last seven days. But how could it be 23 when you have a VPN, firewall protection and layers upon layers of password encrypted searches? It didn’t make sense; did he dabble in cybersecurity before becoming a fire chief? Or was that for fun that he learned to hack?

Cooper saw the cogs turning in your head as you pondered over each alert you received. Not wanting you to figure it out so damn quick, he perked up as he grabbed your waist, drumming his fingers against your thighs. “Let’s play a game. You guess between one and ten, and I’ll show you what you pick. Sound fun?” It was such a random change of pace that your mind instantly was drawn to what Cooper was insinuating. He didn’t give you a chance to think about the why’s when his fingers ran across your body, grazing the line of your panties. As you peered at his overtly cheery nature, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before; Eye twitching usually happened under duress but Cooper wasn’t. He was calm and calculated, composed. No, there was more to his story than he was leading on.

“One through ten. Pick.” You jolted at the commanding tone, moving your hands to push a few strands of his disheveled hair back. Seeing his face so clearly didn’t help the onslaught of questions you had – and it didn’t quell that ache in your cunt. His hands held your hips harshly, promising to leave bruises on your skin. If you even tried to grind down to get comfortable, he would halt any movements. This was his time to play, not yours. “Four.” The reluctant pick brought light back into his eyes, causing that soft smile to reappear. You swear this man was going to give you whiplash with how often he was changing his mood. There wasn’t anything more to it – Cooper scared you in a way where you wanted to be owned by him. It wasn’t a fear for your life, when it should’ve been. You felt like a sick fuck, but it made you so horny to think about.

“Four, my personal favorite!” Cooper exclaimed as he cupped your cheek, using his other hand to grab his phone out of his jeans pocket. You were growing confused as to why he made you pick, and also needed his phone. That is when the realization dawned on you that this game was going to include pictures or videos – of which you were fearful it was of you. That number’s game could relate to a video or picture he took of you tonight, or prior to tonight. It was evident this man did somewhat stalk you – but to the extent? That was lost on you. Gripping his iPhone, Cooper opened an app with a goat’s head, humming to himself as he put in his code.

Just then you heard the moaning of someone on the other side, but not in the way you were expecting. They sounded to be in pain – they were suffering, it sounded like. Oddly it sounded familiar, one you heard only once but, you couldn’t be sure. Before you could ask what was happening, Cooper spun the phone around to show you, muting your end almost quickly. At first you didn’t recognize what was happening since your eyes fell right to survey the background. It looked like a normal shed but, there was something sinister about it. The piping didn’t look like it normally would, neither did the big blue industrial drum barrels sitting next to the chair. That is when you saw it, him, in full picture. Your Ex.

“Oh my god…” you managed to let out, your heart quickening at what you were seeing. Your ex sat bloodied on a wooden chair, a mask hooked up to a tubed device over his face, and the high rising and falling of his chest. Not seeing him for so long caused you to have a visceral reaction, biting your lip so hard it bled. After everything he did to you – the scars he left on your body…you didn’t know how to react other than an animalistic growl of anger and rage. But to Cooper – it may have looked like rage against him kidnapping your ex. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it was to grab this piece of shit. My god, he doesn’t shut up though.” He sighed in contentment, looking up at you with the slightest bit of admiration in his eyes. He was adoring his own handiwork as he was you, best of both worlds right at his fingertips. “Always why? Why me? What did I do?” He mocked in your ex’s whiny voice, causing himself to chuckle. If the circumstances were different, you may have laughed as well at the impression. But not this time, pieces were clicking together in your head that you didn’t want any part of. Yet you knew, it would be easier to conform than revolt.

“Cooper…this is so fucked up.” You managed to squeak your words out as you stared at his phone, seeing the distress your ex was in. You couldn’t, wouldn’t dare to admit it out loud but seeing him in this position made you feel at peace, knowing he isn’t out there, hurting another woman. You hated that you were the last one he did anything to but, in a way you felt good knowing, thinking about that what if. That what if, is what made you realize. “Oh, far from it, baby girl. This is justice. Fucked up would be to bounce you on my cock as you watch him die.” The fact that Cooper said it so matter-of-factly confirmed the suspicion swirling around in your head. The video feed. The mask. The sneaking glances. The possession. The hot and cold moods rotate like a revolving door. It rang true, the video gave it that final nudge in your brain. You couldn’t escape the truth now. “You’re….you’re The Butcher….” The words felt unreal on your lips; You were hoping for Cooper to deny, deny, deny. But alas, Cooper revealed the truth.

“In the flesh. Out of everyone, I was hoping you caught on first.” The way he stated it so proudly shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did – but you couldn’t shut off the valve of your feelings on Cooper, no matter how hard you tried. The parent you had been crushing on was finally giving you the time of day in the way you wanted. He stalked you. Kidnapped your ex with intent to kill and is making you straddle him while he does so. Cooper Adams is The Butcher. It all made sense now; The shifting of moods, being so calculated and precise with everything. He was a madman, killed over a dozen people – chopped them up and left their bodies in public places, pieces to only remember the victims by. Those calloused hands weren’t just the hands of a firefighter but, a serial killer. Now? You were grinding on his lap, in a strip club, while he held your ex hostage.

Now that you knew he was The Butcher – you didn’t care about your ex, but yourself. If he had you on top of him, at your mercy, what were his intentions? “W-What is your plan…with me? A-Are you going to kill me, too?” You stuttered, automatically jumping to the worst possible answer before thinking any other was an option. That is all killers are, right? They kill, they kill ones they like, even love. They kill randoms out of the blue. They kill popular people. Hard workers. Anyone really. Whoever is easy for them to get their hands on. Why would Cooper be any different? Why would you for that matter? After all, a victim is a victim. No matter how far out it is, one day it may come. Killers are unpredictable with their moods – Cooper showed that right off the bat.

“Now why would I do that?” Cooper asked, confusion and disappointment showed on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his mouth slightly ajar as he stared at you. He was processing it, but not fully grasping. In his head, he thought it was a stupid question to ask. Why would he do something so horrendous to you? When he’s been pining over you for years. It wasn’t clicking in his head why you were upset and asking, until he heard another agonizing moan slip from his phone. “Oh, right. Serial killer.” He said with a nonchalant tone, pulling his lips up and nodding as he looked down. Sighing out, he locked his phone and placed it back in his pocket – looking up at you, making sure to maintain eye contact. Both of his hands came to cup your face, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. It felt too domestic in this moment – anxiety mixed with being turned on was a weird combination. But you couldn’t, nor you wouldn’t, move your position. This is where you wanted to be, and with who you wanted to be with. Giving that up, would be a mistake deep down. “No, I am not going to kill you.”

“Then what…?” The mental gymnastics was getting to be too much, and quite frankly you were annoyed. It made no sense that Cooper was so cryptic in everything he did now that no one could see or hear him. Only you, and he was planning on keeping it that way. The cameras not working in the room? That had to be him, right? He fucked with them so he could confess without anyone knowing. It made sense, an hour away, where no one knew him that well – just that he is the fire chief. It made sense that people weren’t going to know the name Cooper Adams or think a married man of his caliber was going to frequent a strip club. He was the perfect killer – hiding in plain sight.

Leaning forward as he still holds your face, Cooper grasps at you a bit harder, smushing your cheeks a little bit as he emphasizes the rasp in his voice. “You’re going to take my cock like the good fucking girl you are, and you’re going to let me fill you up.” There was not a singular stutter as he spoke, it was all pure intention on what he was going to do. He didn’t waste a second in explaining himself because his words held enough meaning. Your body, the situation, everything finally caught up to you as you shivered against his body. Your body riddled with goosebumps at the mental image of what he wanted, what he was going to do to you. You couldn’t hide it anymore. It was fucked up how badly your body was betraying you – but the urge to fuck was heavy on your mind. With Cooper? You’d be a fool to turn it down. Your moral compass would never forgive you but, everyone is a sinner, right? “Oh, see? You’re shaking just at the idea.” He teased, leaning forth to press his lips to the column of your neck, flicking his tongue up your throat. The moan you exclaimed shook you to the core, causing your hips to shake.

“I know you’ve wanted to fuck me, because I’ve been dreaming of it since the first day I saw you.” There it was, the confirmation you needed as he bit at your neck, pulling on the flesh with his teeth. The pain hurt so good, you slotted your hands in his hair and yanked. The main was too much for both of you but stopping wouldn’t be an option. The floodgates broke, you couldn’t close them if you tried. Cooper held you down against his crotch with one hand as the other moved to cup the back of your neck, dragging you down to meet his lips in a frenzied kiss. It was electric, the world stopped spinning for a moment as he drank you down. Swirls of golds and blues swirled in your peripheral vision as he deepened the kiss, showing off the passion you longed for.

You didn’t want this to end or stop anytime soon. The one thing weighing heavy on your gut was cutting cold across your body. Pulling back, you spoke in a small tone. “You’re married. That isn’t fair to your wife.” It was true, there was a part of you that hated knowing you were a mistress to this man, who seemed like an overall family guy. Two small kids and a doting wife. Infidelity was never okay in your eyes, and it never would be okay. But there was a small parasitic side of you that couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like. Did he actually love his wife? If he did, what would possess him to cheat on her like this? There was more to it he was not letting on to, nor daring to elaborate on. You wonder if your internal statement was true; He didn’t love his wife and truly has only ever wanted you. But that’s always too good to be true, self-doubt is a fickle bitch. Pouting at your statement, he brings both of his hands down to focus on your breasts, harshly pulling down the cup to expose your pert nipples.

“You’re telling me, you don’t want to feel my wedding ring gliding across your body, hm?” He questioned as he used his thumb and first finger to tweak your nipple, causing a whimper to escape your lips. The cold of his wedding band against the side of your breast made you wet to think about, Cooper could tell hence why he started to glide it over your peaked bud, smirking at the effect it was having on you. Leaning his head down, he captured your right nipple between his lips, suckling softly on the peak. His tongue slid across your sensitive nipple, causing your back to arch. The moan he let out reverberated throughout your body. As he pulled back, you whimpered at the loss of contact but, you didn’t dare to speak. Your voice would betray you. “That you’re making a mess on a married man’s cock?”

That was the final straw for you – that simple question mixed with his opposite hand pulling at your left nipple set you on fire. You moan aloud as you reached down between the two of you, grazing his clothed cock with your hand, running it harshly against the thick outline with a growl. “Please, Cooper.” The action, mixed with your words, caused Cooper to surge forth and capture your lips with his own. The kiss was all teeth, rough and passionate all at once. It was full of want and need without any awkwardness, like this where it was supposed to be all along. This is where Cooper was meant to be. The barrier was broken, there was no turning around now. This night was going to end with him buried balls deep inside of you, and you were going to be such a happy camper about it. “Please, what?” He moaned out loud against your lips, shoving his hand down between your legs, cupping your clothed cunt. “I’m not a mind reader,” Cooper laughed as you rolled your hips against his hand, pressing your forehead to his. The assault on your neck started then, giving him perfect access to kiss the supple skin. Dragging his teeth up your jaw and to your mouth, he pulled himself back a few inches with a smirk – coaxing your response out with one look. “Please, fuck me.” You whimpered, on the nerve of tears. You were a needy mess and needed to fuck him or else you’d burn alive. The attraction, everything, it was too much.

That was exactly what Cooper wanted to hear, it’s what he needed to act upon the impulses, the desires. The genuine smile that spread across his lips as he looked up at you made your heart feel so full, and flutter uncontrollably. “Ah, see? You don’t care about my wife’s feelings.” Cooper moved his hands off of you for a moment to undo his belt buckle, pulling the clasps aside as you undid the button and zipper on his jeans. Pulling it down with a sickeningly fast pace, he soared his hand into his briefs to pull his cock out, smacking it against the front of your pussy through your panties. “No, you just care about me stuffing that pretty cunt.”

His words caused your cunt to clench, but his next actions set you on a path of destruction. Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick, rigid cock, springing out to slap against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t believe the size of him, wondering how that much man was going to fit inside of you. You’d do whatever you had to, to make it fit. That was a promise to you, and silently to Cooper. You started to move to get off Cooper from your straddling position, wanting to slip your panties off and shove them into his coat pocket, so he has a little gift when he leaves. But Coop had other ideas, and he refused to get you get off of him. The lace waistband of your panties slipped softly through his fingers, basking in the way it felt against his hands. You could see the hitch in his breath as he gripped the fabric a little tighter, wrapping it around his finger. Cooper kept twisting until he heard the small elastics in the lace snap, spreading a sinister smile across his face. Just like that, he ripped your panties clean off of your body – utilizing the gap between where his cock and your pussy to push the shredded remains off, grunting out as he sees your wetness.

He gripped the base of his cock to hold it upright, letting you anchor yourself against him to get the perfect angle. Once you hovered over the top of him, slowly you started to guide your hips down onto his, the tip of his cock crowning your entrance. The delicious stretch of his thick head breached your entrance with resistance, too big for you. But you weren’t a quitter and were needing to make him fit. Rolling your hips against the tip, slowly you felt it push further inside of you, your muscles relaxing at the intrusion. “Oh fuck, god you’re so tight.” He breathed out, holding your hips for leverage. Seeing Cooper go pliant under you was the sexiest thing you had seen, all yours for the taking. He watched you as if you were a goddess, basking in all your glory as every inch slowly was seated inside of you.

Halfway down his erect cock, you felt the tip slide directly against your g-spot, seeing stars at the renewed pressure against it. A mewling moan made itself present, eyes rolling backwards to combat the lightheadedness. “That’s it pretty girl, take it slow.” The coaxing from Cooper was only making you wetter, which in turn was making it so much easier to take him. The compliments from the man below you was too hot to handle, you thought you would perish on the spot if he sweet talked you again. Then again, you’d be putty in his hands the second he started to talk dirty. As you slid down the last few inches of Cooper’s cock, you felt the hair at his base rub against you, causing you to roll your hips forward on him, soliciting a delicious man from the depths of him. “Such a good girl,” Cooper keened. Hearing the praise slip from his mouth was causing you to forget everything that happened earlier, what he is. All you could think about was how deep he was inside of you, and how perfect it felt. You were made for him, your body fit with his so perfect. No one would ever compare.

“Shit, C-Cooper.” The words had a mind of their own as it fell out of your mouth, not thinking about anything expect the thick rigids of his cock against your walls. You started to slide back and forth on his cock, letting the pleasure envelop you. Both of your hands reached behind you to rest on his thick thighs; The rough denim burning your palms. It was so worth it though; the pain amplified the pleasure. You were losing yourself with every slide you created, hitting the exact spot you needed to each time. His cock was made for you. Leaning forward, Cooper reached his hand up to cross across your back, pulling you forward more so he could place his forehead between the valley of your breast, resting against the middle of your bra. “I know, baby. I know. It feels too fucking good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You replied absentmindedly, letting your pussy do all the talking. Cooper started to fuck up into you, needing to feel the pleasure you were. All the teasing was driving him mad, if he didn’t move but let you do all the work – there would be no fun in it. Sure, he loved watching you take control and use him for your own pleasure but, at the end of the day – you now belonged to him. He was going to be damned if you got yourself off. No, he needed to be the one to make you cum until you saw stars. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” The sweet nature of his words set you off like the Fourth of July – lighting up your entire body. What made it even better was when he smacked that down with his roughened nature, smacking your ass hard enough to leave bruises. “I’ll be breaking in this body really good.”

That was enough for that familiar flutter to work its way into your lower belly, setting you ablaze from the inside, out. He enjoyed watching you go dumb on his cock, letting the pleasure take over enough to where you were drunk on him. The pleasure crested behind his eyes as well, just thinking about all the endless possibilities for the two of you. “Maybe I’ll even knock you up, put a baby in you, hm?” Your eyes shot wide open to stare at Cooper, his own eyes challenging you. He was provoking a reaction, using your breeding kink against you. Sly motherfucker. Your body’s reaction to the thought was involuntary, as were your words. “Fuuuck,” you manage to slip out as you leaned forth to balance yourself in his lap, feeling your body vibrate with every thrust.

The way your cunt gripped Cooper’s cock was too much for you, the pleasure spreading to every orifice on your body. You couldn’t handle it, the stars began to bloom as you thought about having his baby. How depraved you had to be to enjoy it, and how you knew he was going to make it a reality. Cooper tossed his head back as his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing the hardened nub gently with his calloused finger. The sensation only made everything more intense, he couldn’t stop, neither could you. You were a drug, and he was becoming so addicted. “Oh, you really must love that idea. Walking around with a married man’s mark in you. Naughty, naughty girl.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. There was something about being bred by Cooper that healed something inside of you. It was also the fact that he was a husband already, a father, making him a daddy again would be a gift. Yet you knew you should feel guilty – you should stop and walk away. But where was the fun in that? After all, you’re just as sick and depraved as he is. It would be a shame to pass on the opportunity. “I’m fucking obsessed with you. You’re never leaving me, now.” Cooper was egging you on, wanting you to hit your peak soon enough. He knew if you took too long up here then Moira would come and try to find you, cutting this fun short. Now that was something he couldn’t have. He needed all of you. He hoped you knew that you were never getting away from him, he was going to find you in every life. “A-All yours. All y-yours!” It was true, you were all his now, whether you wanted to or not once the sex ended.

“That’s fucking right I am, I own you.” The primal grunts he showered the VIP room in caused your skin to prickle. The sheen of sweat on your face creating an ethereal glow under the neon lights. It felt like magic, like you were high. Every sense was amplified and putting you on edge. It was a raw nerve, masking its way as lust and love inside of you. This was fucked up, so fucked up! But you couldn’t help yourself, you needed more. “I-I’m gonna cum! Cooper, please!” You scream out, nails dragging down his covered chest; How you wish you could press yourself against his body, feeling you fully enveloped within in. Your high was cresting, ready to hits its peak. But of course you refused to cum unless Cooper gave you permission, your body officially giving up on sanity and leaning towards the crazy. “Cum then, baby. Let daddy take care of you.”

That was all you needed to hear to hit your orgasm. You couldn't handle it anymore, you couldn't begin to comprehend what you were doing anymore. The sex, the love making, it was too good for words. What was even better was the supple embrace of your orgasm - tossing you around like you were nothing. Ocean, one big body of water. The nothingness of waves crashing around you - freedom keeping you afloat. You were weightless as you reached your next high, the blissful graze of it all cresting like a wave, wanting to sweep you deeper into the depths of darkness. The spasms of your silken walls around Cooper’s velvety cock made you scream out - almost as if you were being skinned alive. The pleasure was too much, it felt too good to keep it all inside. All of the club no doubt could hear your screams of endless pleasure. He was grateful he could make you come so hard, your nails dragging along the bare expanse of his alabaster back, causing vermillion stripes to appear. “That’s a good girl. Now, daddy’s turn.”

Gripping onto your hips - Cooper started to snap his within yours. Each stroke of his cock inside of you felt like a burst of wildfire; Burning bright and beautiful, claiming you in each way he saw fit. You always heard of the phrase being cock dumb, never knowing the full intent of its meaning until you were in the position to do so. Every thrust being produced by Cooper sent you into an internal frenzy, moans slipping from your mouth like it was prayers to whatever God listened. Begging and begging for your high with every motion, Cooper became intoxicated by you - your gorgeous body on full display, pliable just for him. Knowing no one else would ever see you in this position again - he was eternally yours as you were his. While Cooper was dealing with his internal monologue, you were basking in the glory of his member. Eyes fell closed while your head pressed backwards, going with the flow of each thrust - letting those whimpers be heard through and through. “Fucking whore. Fucking take that!” Cooper laments, huffing with every thrust produced, you look up at him with doe eyes, meeting his gaze easily without hesitation. Something in Cooper’s chest burst with a blinding array of colors and swirls.

“I’m going to ruin you so good. You’re not going anywhere sweet thing, you’re staying right here.” Cooper started, trying to get the words out in between the deep seeded lust you could provide him. But it was his lips against your cheek, to your ear. Your silence coaxed him forth to finish his thought. “Yes!” Your giggle lit up Cooper’s ears, causing you both to moan wildly during the session - his cock never stopping its spears deep within you. Through your moans were moments of broken pants. Rolls of Cooper’s hips inside of you made you toss your head back once more, feeling the curly hairs at the base of his length rub soothingly against your clit - igniting that slow burn with a delicious tang. “Fuck, fuck!” I’m gonna cum inside of you. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, right? Gonna carry this real good for me?”

In the moment everything felt like it stopped, your body seizing under the sadist touch of Cooper Adams. Hearing how Cooper wanted to breed you, so you hoped, made everything in your body shut down almost instantly. “Yes!” Screaming with the single punches of his cock to your cervix, you yelled out in unison with the thrusts; "Yes, sir!” Leaning forth you made sure to press your forehead to his, shallowing your breaths to be in time with his. Cooper felt your motions, moving a singular hand up to cup the back of your neck. Being in place meant he could watch every emotion run its course. Broken down and exposed, like a nerve to the elements - but you would not be caused any harm, this nerve was going to heal slowly but surely, being aided by your own knight. A perverted, serial killing, sick and twisted knight.

Smiles upon smiles ran for miles as you met Cooper’s expression, seeing the lust even following up in his own eyes - matching the deep seeded swirls in yours. Eruptions of butterflies flew through your stomach; A zoo released from its restraints - pounding around to aid in the overwhelming bliss. You felt safe. Cooper wrapped his arms around your torso to push you far into his chest, causing you to return the grip. There you both were; Cooper pounding into you while both bodies hugged one another.

Both of your highs were dangerously close to exploding, and there was no way you could hold on any longer. Cooper’s too-talented-for-his-own-good mouth was working like a gear to pump out all of the dirtiness you have been craving for eons. The sinful dialect you never knew he could produce slipped between parted cracked lips. Just like that, the world stopped spinning for the two of you. A wave rushed over both of your figures, jolting your souls into the stratosphere. Like a ton of bricks hitting, you with a mac truck, you felt every spurt of your high aid in Cooper’s - causing your interior walls to be painted stark white. Each clench your cunt produced milked this man for all he was worth. As the overstimulation kicked in, Cooper stopped his thrusts as you stopped your gyrations, letting you both take a well needed breather. Both of your foreheads were pressed against one another, basking in the light of the moment. The heavy stench of sex and sweat clung to the clean air. Bated breaths filled the silence of the house, not even a mouse was stirring. Cooper’s cock pulsated over and over again within your velvety walls, giving you a new paint job, one that was sating you like no tomorrow. It was the simple thought of carrying Cooper’s child that made you burst at the seams, knowing he wanted all of Philly to see the mark he left on you. You were never going to complain about it, no you were proud to be his. “Know this, sweet girl. You ever try to run away, leave, or escape me? It will be the last thing you ever do. You’re mine. Here. Now. Forever. In every life, I own you.”

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amberlynnmurdock · 9 months

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Neighbor Pt. 4 - Christmas Edition

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt Murdock dreaded Christmas until she gave him a new meaning to it.

Words: about 2.3k

Genres: FLUFF, light angst

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve!!! <3

Part 3

The holidays were finally here, and Matt Murdock was dreading them.

He used to love Christmas. Before his accident, he remembered waking up at three in the morning to the sound of his father wrapping gifts under the tree on Christmas Eve. Yeah, his father had a match on Christmas Eve one year, and Matt was disappointed when he told him he had to stay home. He watched the match on their old TV, lights on the Christmas tree twinkling behind him, blood splattering on the camera as Battlin’ Jack Murdock knocked out his foe. Matt sauntered off to bed after that, passing the tree with missing presents, not giving a damn because the greatest gift he could have was watching his father win on TV. But Matt remembers that crinkling noise of tape on wrapping paper and the growing excitement in his chest that his father did get him a present.

After the accident, and after his father was murdered, Christmas started to feel less warm and more of a thing to get by. The only time he ever felt anything close to how he did before was going to mass. Even mass started to lose its lure as he got older and understood the heartache that came with Christmas, mostly from prayers—prayers only he could hear because of his senses. Parents prayed to God for a Christmas miracle to afford gifts, and orphaned children prayed for someone to adopt them in time for the holiday.

Christmas hasn’t been the same for Matt for a long time. He still attended mass at his old church, said hello to Father Lantom and the sisters who practically raised him, and continued to carry that heaviness in his heart that’d been growing since he was a kid. It will never go away.

It was worse living in Hell’s Kitchen alone. But at least in recent years, he had Karen and Foggy to celebrate Christmas with. Except, this year was different. After years and years of space her father needed, Karen’s dad was finally ready to reconcile with his daughter. She left work early Friday to drive up to Vermont. Foggy was spending Christmas with Marci’s family this year, all the way in South Jersey. This left Matt on his own for Christmas for the first time in years. He didn’t know what he would do.

Come Christmas, the entire apartment was nearly empty. Everyone had left to go to the country to visit family. Everyone but her. She was alone today as well…soft classical music played from her apartment—she never played music too loud, unlike other tenants. The movie How the Grinch Stole Christmas played in the background, too. And Matt’s mouth started to water and his stomach growled when he smelt gingerbread cookies from her oven.

To feel closer to her, Matt reached for the latest book in braille she brought him. She said it was one of her favorites: The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. Matt was never a big fan of literature, but for her, he could be. While he couldn’t make sense of some metaphors (he blames law school for teaching him to take things very literally) he still appreciated the way authors could write beautifully. And he loved reading what she loved.

When she tried to explain the allegories and metaphors in the book, Matt joked to her about a book his father used to read to him all the time: The Giving Tree. That was the last book he ever read for pleasure, juvenile and silly as it was. His father read it to him before bed every night. And there it was again, that familiar ache and break in his soul whenever he thought of his father.

He closed the book and closed his eyes as he let the sounds of the smell of her apartment fill his senses. He longed to be there with her. He longed to say hello. Eventually, he would work up the courage. Eventually, he fell asleep instead.

***

Matt woke up to a gentle knocking on his door. He shot up on the couch, disoriented, and clicked his phone for the time. It is 6 PM, the automated voice read. Matt felt his heart drop as panic set in. He fell asleep for that long?!

When he listened for the knocks again, he realized it was her at his door. Matt panicked again and ran his hand through his chocolate brown hair, hoping he wouldn’t look like a mess when he answered his door. He cracked his neck and adjusted his shirt as he walked over to answer. He didn’t bother to hone in on his senses to get a feel for what she had with her if there was anything at all. Matt opened the door.

“Hi Matt,” she said, her voice an octave higher out of nervousness. “Is now a bad time?”

“Oh no,” Matt answered quickly, running a hand through his hair again. “I just—was… I accidentally fell asleep,” he ended up admitting sheepishly. There was no use in lying.

“No plans either today, huh?” She asked a hint of irony in her tone. Matt huffed out a laugh, ignoring that tugging feeling in his heart.

“Well, I might attend mass later, since I at least didn’t sleep through that,” Matt answered. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

“Merry Christmas!” She exclaimed, and it was then that Matt finally noticed she was holding a plate of gingerbread cookies in her hands. “I baked some cookies and thought you’d like some. Some have frosting and some don’t. I wasn’t sure what you preferred.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t discriminate cookies,” Matt smiled, taking the plate from her hands graciously. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” He suddenly felt guilty—he didn’t have anything to offer her.

“I wanted to,” she shrugged. “You’re the only person here I can share this day with, so why not?”

Matt smiled softly, wondering why she was celebrating Christmas alone. No family, like him?

He wasn’t sure what to say now. Well, he knew what he wanted to say… he knew what he wanted to ask. But he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to.

“Well,” she said, “I’ll leave you to it. I hope you like them,” there was a hint of urgency in her voice like she too was holding something back. Uncertainty. He wasn’t a stranger to it.

“Hey,” Matt suddenly said, swallowing his pride, his lonesome, his fear. “Would you—if you’re up to it, would you want to join me for Christmas mass? It’s at my old Catholic Church a few blocks down. I could—use some company.”

“Really?” She jumped at the opportunity. Matt’s heart skipped a beat. “Even though I’m not that religious, I could go?”

“Of course,” Matt answered, “they always welcome strangers. It starts at 7:30.”

“Well, okay,” she answered happily, “I'd love to join you.”

“Alright then,” Matt said. “I’ll come by your door at 7. Until then, I might finish this plate of cookies.”

She laughed. He wanted to tell another joke just to hear it again.

***

The walk home from Mass was quieter than the way there if that were possible. Perhaps, neither of them was used to being with the other outside the apartment—or maybe, both of them had a lot to say but no idea how to say it. What did Matt want to say?

It’s been a while since he went to mass with anyone. For her to accompany him to something important to him meant the world. She didn’t know how much it meant to him for her to join. Most people groaned at the idea of going to church—but her? She nearly leaped at it. It made him even more curious as to why she was alone on this day, but he would save that question for another time. Right now, he was just grateful.

She reached in her pocket for the keys to the building. Matt listened closely to her. Her heart was beating slightly faster than normal from walking. She was taking shaky breaths from the cold. When the door finally opened, Matt held it for her to walk in first. He was thankful they didn’t run into any trouble on the way home.

“I’m not used to the building being this quiet,” she said on the way up the stairs, in an attempt to make conversation.

“Me either,” Matt said. “I could get used to it, though.”

“I hope I’m not too loud,” she laughed lightly.

“You?” Matt scoffed. “You’re a dream of a neighbor. You drop me off books and now cookies.”

She laughed again, “You save me from bad dates. I guess you’re not bad of a neighbor either.”

When they finally reached their floor, Matt walked her to her door and listened from the outside, just in case. It was quiet, and still. Safe. Safe for her to walk in. She paused at the door, that familiar uncertainty filling her voice again as she spoke.

“That was beautiful,” she said softly, “the service. It’s been a while since I’ve been to something like that. I forgot how fulfilling it was.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Matt said. “Most people find it boring—which I suppose it can be, but on days like today, I could really use it. It…gets lonely during the holidays.”

“I understand,” she whispered, leaning against her door. She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want this to be the end of their night. “I feel the same.”

“Yeah,” Matt spoke gently. “Thank you for joining me. It means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Before you go, I do have one last thing for you. Do you want to come inside real quick, before we say goodnight?”

Matt was stunned by her question—it was at that moment he realized he’d been waiting for her to ask it.

“Sure,” Matt tried to sound as calm as possible. She smiled and unlocked her door.

Matt tapped his cane in front of him to walk inside. If her apartment wasn’t intoxicating enough, being inside was downright exhilarating. A soft vanilla scent wafted through her apartment. There was a suede couch in the living room and a velvet carpet. Matt took a seat on her couch as she sauntered off to her bedroom. Her bedroom…

“Okay,” she softly announced, reappearing in the living room. “Hold out your hands.”

Matt rested his cane on the floor and held out his hands smiling. She sat down next to him, her knee touching his. She placed what felt like a thin rectangle, wrapped in paper, in his hands.

“You can open it,” she giggled.

Matt began to slowly rip at the present, careful to not completely rip it apart. Whatever he held, it was upside down. Matt flipped it in his hands. It was a book, of course. When he ran his fingers over the cover, his heart nearly dropped in his stomach.

⠞⠓⠑ ⠛⠊⠧⠊⠝⠛ ⠞⠗⠑⠑

The Giving Tree

Translated in Braille

The Giving Tree. His childhood book. The last book his father ever read to him. A book he hasn’t picked up in years.

“I know it’s juvenile,” she began to explain as she saw the utter surprise on Matt’s face, even behind his dark glasses. “But there’s something special about revisiting childhood books. They shaped us. I remember you told me your dad used to read this to you all the time. I thought maybe you’d like to have a new copy in braille.”

Matt was overcome by so many emotions—the thoughtfulness behind her gift, the memories it brought him, the feelings he hadn’t felt since he was a kid—it was all too much, too much for him to pretend like this didn’t impact him. It did. So many things made sense for him at this moment. From being the only two left in this apartment on Christmas, to the book she’s gifted him.

He whispered her name, placing the book in his lap. He didn’t care if his next actions were too forward, it was the only way he could convey what he felt. He took both her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, feeling each bone slowly and the way her fingers melted in his palms.

“Thank you,” he uttered, choked on emotion. His heart felt too big in his chest. “This means a lot to me. I wish… I wish I could explain it better,” Matt whispered. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she whispered in return, surprised at his sudden vulnerability. “I’m happy you like it.”

Suddenly, Matt pulls his hands away from hers, placing them on the cover of the book. A dark expression fell over his face. “I didn’t get you anything. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Matt,” she laughed, “it’s not about that for me. Your reaction alone was more than I could ever want. And spending this dreadful day not alone for once was the best gift of all.”

She walked Matt to the door. It was getting late and she felt ready to go to sleep. It was an emotionally exhausting day but fulfilling. She only wished it didn’t have to end with her alone. Spending Christmas with Matt was a treat. She didn’t know how badly she needed it.

Before he was completely outside her door, he turned around and offered a small smile.

“If you ever get lonely,” Matt began in a voice above a whisper, “Christmas or not… I’m only across the hall.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled, “the same sentiment applies to you, too.”

When she shut her door, Matt waited to hear the click of the lock. He stood for a moment, book in hand, cane in the other, heart on his sleeve. He left a part of himself with her. He wanted her to keep it forever.

For once, Christmas didn’t feel lonely and it didn’t feel like something he once longed for. There he was, holding a part of his childhood in his hands carefully, while perhaps a glimmer of a future waited on the other side of the door.

TAGS: @mattmurdocksstarlight @yentroucnagol @danzer8705 @allllium @i-marvel-bitch @mattsgirlsworld @babygrlmurdock @writtenbyred @uncle-eggy

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #the defenders #marvel #mcu #neighbor

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yusiyomogi · 2 months

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this is the last time i'm gonna interact with this discourse, i promise. i just wanna tell a few things that i've been meaning to tell anyway.

yes, the larger connection you can make between elves and real world imperialism is interesting, canaries are obviously modeled after military forces of imperialistic countries. even if their goals aren't nefarious, they withhold information from local governments, ignore borders and ensure the global power of their own country. the way they deal with the threat also often disregards actual safety of local people, despite their original goals.

but when we're talking about this theme, which is important and interesting, we have to discuss other significant implications of this allegory. like, for example, people from that military force are systematically treated as completely disposable. story itself doesn't shy away from this, even their nickname "canaries" represents how ridiculously deadly their job is - they're expected to die, basically. practice of recruiting convicted criminals to the army because they are desperate and disposable is something that is actually happening in the world right now. recruiting noble kids to the army as an "honorable tradition" to ensure their loyalty and investment in country's politics is another practice that was common in real world. wealthy people are the most dangerous to their government, after all.

if we actually wanna analyze this, we need to take it seriously, not to use it to prove that some characters are "bad" because of it. kui for sure didn't do this, she specifically humanized canaries in her story and showed how participant of the system can be abused by that system (that doesn't absolve them of their wrongdoings though). just how she decided to show racism as something everyone participates in, instead of making some one-note villain characters who are racists. you can have your own feelings about it, but that's how she did it.

the other thing is, if we actually try to analyze it, we can only take it as interesting thought experiment. we can call it "reading through certain lenses". because we're still dealing with fantasy world here. functionally canaries can be seen more as international disaster response, since they don't participate in actual wars. their primary goal is to control and destroy dungeons, which can be seen as analogy to natural or technological disasters. they don't influence local politics, they don't mass murder people, they don't aim to establish their own bases on the territory of the country (at least not at the point we are in the story). so, they are an amalgamation of these two ideas rather than only one of them. we can't have a real analogy to our world, since we don't have the demon that can destroy us all just because some people have tasty desires. that's why working with allegories to real life is a limiting way of looking at the work. it's fine to do it, but it's only one way to interpret it and it's not "the only correct" way. in fact, most authors prefer when their worldbuilding is judged on its own merits.

mithrun does participate in military force voluntarily and it's an important part of his story. it's also important to analyze why he's doing it: he thinks that he's doing a good thing by enlisting to the unit, because he believes that he's the one who can change things. according to adventurer's bible, his main motivation for recovery was what happened in utaya: mithrun could see how incompetent canaries were when they were dealing with the dungeon and the demon, so his thought was literally "if only i was there...", one of the most common army movie tropes.

and he does change things, surprisingly, because we can see that he focuses on efficiency much more than any other elf. he correctly assumes that the faster they deal with the threat, the less casualties there will be. he speedruns the dungeon in 15 minutes, while utaya's investigation took 1 year before it all collapsed horribly, killing a bunch of civilians and soldiers. mithrun does it so efficiently in fact, that even kabru for a second doubts his decision to stop the canaries. mithrun believes that no secrecy is important when the world is at stake, that's why he tells kabru literally everything he knows. mithrun believes that he can change things. he is wrong though.

mithrun is wrong, because he still serves for elven government and they have not at any point demonstrated that they're interested in actually solving the problem for good (for many reasons probably, they're likely still considering that they'll need the demon's power). mithrun realized it in the end, when he decided to let laios do what he wants instead, basically giving up on his loyalty to the elves. much more obvious agent of elven imperialism in the story is flamela, because she stays loyal to the government and her queen, even when situation got desperate. mithrun also eventually left his country to live under short-lived races' rule.

so, it's kinda weird and suspicious why some people in the fandom decided to focus on mithrun as "the main agent of imperialism" when they talk about those things. yes, it's interesting to look at him from this point of view, especially if you wanna discuss how he changes through the story, but... do you really care about him as a character or are you looking for a bad guy? because i've seen both.

it's not fans' fault that they care too much about his personal character arc instead of looking at his background and role of antagonist. blame kui for it, because that's what she also decided to focus on in her story. some people just don’t wanna discuss such things, because it seems disrespectful to real life, the other believe that looking at everything in the story through allegory is limiting. i’ve seen people who mentions problematic elements, while respecting the other facets of the story that we all enjoy, and it’s amazing and i wish i could do it as gracefully.

but a lot of people noticed the tendency in this fandom to turn some characters into villains and people have right to be tired of it. the story doesn't do it, so if you don't like it... i'd advise you to look for another story, but you really can do what you want.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dungeon meshi analysis #mithrun #sorry for my english #text post

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workersolidarity · 3 months

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[ 📸 A child named Jana Ayyad, who was displaced into Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip, suffers from extremely poor health caused by malnutrition resulting from the continued closure of the southern border crossings. In a report published by the UN-affiliated agency that classifies famines, northern Gaza has been determined to not yet to be in famine, a result of an unexpected increase in aid, while Gaza on the whole remains on the brink of famine and catastrophe. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

WAR IN GAZA, DAY 263: DESTRUCTION OF INFRASTRUCTURE PRESENTS DANGERS TO CIVILIANS IN GAZA, ISRAELI OCCUPATION TO DRAFT ULTRA-ORTHODOX JEWS FOR MILITARY SERVICE, "INTENSE" PHASE OF GAZA WAR TO END, BOMBING RAIDS CONTINUE AS MASS MURDER OF PALESTINIANS GOES ON ANOTHER DAY

On 263rd day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 3 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 32 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 139 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands, of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

Following weeks of Israeli ground incursions into the northern Gaza Strip, as well as Rafah to the south, large portions of Gaza's Palestinian population have been displaced into central Gaza, into cities such as Deir al-Balah, the Al-Mawasi area, and the Bureij Camp.

Following their displacement, the Israeli occupation army began heavily bombing the local public infrastructure, leaving central Gaza, in particular targeting public infrastructure, including wells and sewage lines, spilling sewage while trash collection has ceased. All of this directly nearby areas where tens of thousands of Palestinian families are forced to reside in tent cities.

Speaking with the local media, resident Umm al-Abd Baalousha and her family live in a small tent erected near the sea water desalinization plant in Deir al-Balah, in central Gaza, an area where previous Israeli bombing has led sewage to overflow into the streets where piles of garbage grow ever larger as basic services are now impossible due to the ongoing genocidal war.

Baalousha told the local media she is a refugee from the Jabalia Camp, in Gaza's north, where the Israeli occupation forces recently launched a deadly invasion, destroying or damaging nearly every building and forcing her family to seek shelter in Rafah.

Soon after, they were displaced again by the Israeli invasion into Rafah beginning several weeks ago. The family was forced to seek shelter once again, now a refugee living in a tent in Deir al-Balah, in central Gaza.

“We did not find another place to flee to from the city of Rafah in the far south, with the occupation beginning its ground military operation, other than this area (in Deir al-Balah), which is characterized by its proximity to the water desalination plant, but the disaster began to unfold with the overflow of sewage," Baalousha told the local media.

"Children in the area cannot move easily, unless accompanied by an adult, due to the high level of wastewater in the place and the matter not being addressed by the responsible authorities," she added.

The same can be said for countless other residents of Gaza, many of whom have been forced into unsafe, or sometimes outright dangerous living conditions, surrounded by garbage, sewage, sickness and death, often being starved.

According to a report published today, June 25th, by the UN-affiliated IPC Global Famine Review Committee, although the amount of food going into the northern Gaza Strip has increased, the food situation in the Palestinian enclave is "catastrophic", while there remains a "high and sustained risk of Famine across the whole Gaza Strip."

"The prolonged nature of the crises means that this risk remains at least as high as at any time during the past few months," the report says.

"The FRC encourages all stakeholders who use the IPC for high-level decision-making to understand that whether a Famine classification is confirmed or not does not in any manner change the fact that extreme human suffering is without a doubt currently ongoing in the Gaza Strip, and does not change the immediate humanitarian imperative to address this civilian suffering by enabling complete, safe, unhindered, and sustained humanitarian access into and throughout the Gaza Strip, including through ceasing hostilities. All actors should not wait until a Famine classification is made to act accordingly," the report concluded.

In more news, the Israeli entity's High Court of Justice has ruled today the occupation army must draft Ultra-Orthodox men into the Israeli military.

According to the Occupation media, due to there no longer being a legal framework for the exclusion of Haredi men from the Israeli draft, the Israeli High Court has ordered the military to begin drafting the Ultra-Orthodox immediately.

Though the High Court did not determine a rate at which they must be drafted, it instead told the government it could draft Yeshiva students gradually or quickly, but that it must begin actively working to conscript the Ultra-Orthodox.

The Court ruling concluded that a June, 2023 government order instructing the army not to begin drafting Ultra-Orthodox men was illegal because the law exempting them from conscription had expired and was not renewed by the Israeli Knesset.

The Israeli media states that some 63'000 exemptions for Ultra-Orthodox men were reported by the Court's documentation.

The Israeli High Court writes that, “In these days, in the midst of a severe war, the burden of inequality is more acute than ever — and requires the promotion of a sustainable solution to this issue.”

“Non-enforcement of the provisions of the Security Service Law creates severe discrimination between those who are required to serve," the Court is quoted as saying.

Meanwhile, Israeli occupation Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, gave interview with the Hebrew media in which he said that the "period of intense fighting in Gaza is about to end," adding that "This does not mean that the war is about to end, but rather its intense phase is about to end."

Trending news analysis of Netanyahu's recent comments suggest that, with the risk of Netanyahu's position crumbling if the war comes to an end.

Analysis suggests that at the conclusion of the Rafah operation, the bulk of the Israeli occupation's military violence is likely to shift north towards Hezbollah in southern Lebanon, just rinse the Gaza operation and repeat south of Lebanon.

In the meantime, in the Gaza Strip, the slaughter continued, albeit at a slower pace in recent days as the Zionist entity begins refocusing its attention north. Still, dozens of civilians were killed and more than one hundred wounded over the last 24-hours.

In the early morning hours of Tuesday, an Israeli warplane bombed a gathering of civilians on Al-Wahda Street near Al-Shifa Hospital, west of Gaza City, killing five Palestinian civilians, including two children, and resulting in a number of others wounded to varying degrees. The wounded were taken to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Soon after, the Israeli occupation forces bombed two UNRWA shelter schools in a series of raids that killed 16 civilians, with most of the victims being women and children.

The Israeli bombardment targeted several areas of Khan Yunis, in Gaza's south, along with the Al-Maghazi and Al-Shati Refugee Camps in the central and northern Gaza Strip, respectively.

According to Palestinian sources, the Zionist army bombed two UNRWA shelter schools housing displaced families in the Al-Shati Camp and in the Al-Daraj neighborhood of Gaza city.

The Civil Defense reported the recovery of five Palestinians who were killed, including children, and several others wounded as a result of the bombing of the "Asmaa" School housing displaced civilians in the Al-Shati Camp, west of Gaza City.

Similarly, local Civil Defense crews said they'd recovered the bodies 6 Palestinians as a result of the occupation army's bombing of the Abdel Fattah Hamoud School,in the Jaffa area of central Gaza City.

In further raids, occupation fighter jets bombarded a home belonging to the Al-Zamili family in the Al-Shujaiya neighborhood, east of Gaza City.

Meanwhile, the systematic destruction of neighborhoods such as the Saudi and Tal al-Sultan neighborhoods, west of the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, continued as well. With near constant bombings, artillery shelling and tank fire being reported, as well as the death of a man who was killed as a result of Israeli bombing in the Tal al-Sultan neighborhood.

As Tuesday went on, the Zionist entity renewed its attacks, and further bombed into the night.

At midnight, Israeli warplanes bombed a house in the city of Beit Lahiya, north of Gaza, killing at least 3 Palestinians, and wounding a dozen others, while the Zionist army also bombed several homes in Gaza City and Rafah.

The Israeli occupation forces bombed several homes in southwestern Gaza City, including the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, in northern Gaza, while in Gaza's south, the Israeli occupation bombed the Saudi neighborhood, west of Rafah.

Further Israeli airstrikes and artillery shelling hammered neighborhoods northeast of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, while airstrikes also hit the Nuseirat Camp in central Gaza.

As a result of the Zionist entity's ongoing war of extermination against the Palestinian population of the Gaza Strip, the current death toll now exceeds 37'658 killed, including over 15'000 children and at least 10'000 women, while another 86'237 others have been wounded since October 7th, 2023.

June 25th, 2024.

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moonbaby26 · 4 months

Text

Title: Past Wounds

(Chapter 12 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, toxic relationship, binge drinking, mommy issues, brief references to past trauma and survival from past sexual assault including when characters were previously underage, talk of virginity loss, intentions to sabotage birth control, breeding kink, murder (not main characters)

Chapter Synopsis: As you and Doflamingo open up to one another, you find even more in common in the traumas of your pasts. While he still plans for the future, intending to never have you truly leave him or your new kingdom of Dressrosa again.

Author’s notes: As evidenced by chapter warnings above, there are a lot of potential triggers in this chapter. Nothing is overly gratuitous in my opinion. But still, fair warning. I always let the characters run the show for what they’ll say/do next and this was the result. More notes are at the end of the chapter as well including some insight into future plans for this story. 😄

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

——————————

As Doflamingo had recounted to you those bits and pieces of his time spent with Tsuru as a boy, of course you’d sat in silence, listening intently. But even with the seemingly unflattering details he did allow, you felt like that curtain between you and his past was only being pulled back just enough to tease towards the bigger mystery.

Like a single flash of lightning across a dark and unfamiliar room. The parts he did tell would only let you make out some hints of shapes, pieces of him you’d never known. Before everything was plunged into darkness once more.

But telling you even this much did stir deeper things within that darkness for him at least. That was obvious in his many pauses as he spoke, and by just how quickly the wine disappeared the further his story went on.

He’d finished the first bottle in his hand before his strings had brought the second bottle to him and into the bed as well.

But regardless of his height, and the additional body mass that offered him, you started to realize even warlords had a limit. It was still too much, too fast for his body to put it away safely.

And he was self medicating. Wasn’t he?

“Doffy,” you did say in test after he’d quieted for a few more minutes.

He wasn’t smiling any longer, and his eyes didn’t move from you. “She left me there.”

And something warned you then. It was in the way his shoulders sank, but his muscles didn’t relax.

He didn’t want logic or reasoning right now. He didn’t want you to say that Tsuru had had no real choice but to desert him.

And desertion was absolutely how he saw it. That sentiment made further clear in the dangerous irritation which rose in his next words.

“But Rosi was good enough. You white coats took him from me as soon as you fucking could…and wasn’t he too young? He was younger than me! So why? Why was he better…no, he wasn’t.”

It did take you a moment to even realize who Doflamingo meant, even as you began growing more nervous as he seemingly argued with himself as much as anything.

Was he talking about Rosinante?

Codename Corazon was what you’d actually known him as. Tsuru had sometimes called him Rosinante though. Which that bit of familiarity finally made more sense if only tonight.

Because she’d met both brothers before they’d ever become criminals.

But you still weren’t following this new turn. How had the marines taken Doflamingo’s brother? Corazon had been killed a few years ago. All over a stupid devil fruit sale gone bad as far as you knew. The Donquixote family versus the Barrels pirates at Minion Island.

You’d been there that night as well, on Tsuru’s crew to pick up the pieces afterward. You’d seen the bird cage just before it came down…and the bodies that’d been left in the aftermath.

But this new confusion in your eyes only had Doflamingo leaning forward aggressively. You could see the added flush in his cheeks from all that wine as he closed in on you.

And for the briefest moment you’d envisioned one of those now empty wine bottles being smashed open against your face.

Because you somehow knew that he had considered it.

But then those same bottles only rolled aside with his movement within the bed. His words were slightly slurred the faster he tried to force them out.

The more he tried to make you understand that pain that no alcohol could ever quench.

“They turned my own baby brother against me….he hated me.”

The warlord’s lips were the only thing that met your face this time though. Not a fist, or the bottles, even as that kiss still held so much anger from within.

Doflamingo’s hand was tight on the back of your neck so quickly too, forcing you to him as his tongue and that secondhand taste of alcohol filled your mouth.

He was actually drunk tonight. And it was your job once more to prevent yourself from being further hurt.

“Doffy,” You said more insistently again, briefly breaking your mouths apart.

Yet you weren’t bleeding like before. So this allowed you at least a chance to try softness first. Even if it wasn’t organic at all. Even if every move you made was now purposeful as you brought your hands up to stroke his face before your mouths could reconnect.

His left eye did close at that sudden touch, his lips still parted as the bright red iris of the right eye focused on you cautiously.

“You’re okay.” You found yourself saying regardless as you petted this dangerous creature.

His muscles were still so tight, his breath a bit uneven as you stroked along those high cheekbones and up into that short blond hair.

But there was the slightest hope for you in the way he’d started to press his face into that touch after a few more moments. He didn’t want you to stop.

It wasn’t over yet though. It’d never be, when suddenly he’d next pushed his full weight against you. You were forced onto your back on the mattress. This behavior already seeming to follow the pattern of so many times before as your core couldn’t help but immediately tense, fearing penetration.

Yet he didn’t straddle you this time. His legs curled up instead, allowing him the room to lay down. Your head now by the foot of the bed, and both your and his feet nearer the headboard as he laid his face across your naked breasts.

In your surprise, his hand also caught your wrist, pulling your own palm back to the side of his cheek as he bid you to keep petting him again in this new position.

And so of course you did. Having to breathe a little more forcefully with his weight on you then. But it wasn’t that painful. You weren’t being fucked this time at least as you watched the ceiling while stroking his jaw before your fingers moved back into his hairline as you massaged his scalp lightly.

You weren’t stupid. The parallels were all far more obvious now. His biological mother had died early on in his life. And in his own mind at least, he’d reclaimed some semblance of that motherly bond when he’d met Tsuru. But then she’d left him too, and his father had died, and his brother eventually too. Those full details still unclear in his odd behavior surrounding their two names.

But no matter the hows or whys, he had lost one family member after another. It was hit after hit on an already troubled psyche to further grow that void inside of him wasn’t it?

And needy boys soon became needy men.

So he was burying all that desperation in you now, no question there. And before you, whoever else he could get his claws into you were sure. But for your own sanity, you would have to believe that everything he felt for Tsuru was still more from the boy within and not the hedonistic man that’d now torn through your body multiple times.

She’d have washed him into pieces if he’d ever tried anything inappropriate with her you were sure.

But with you? Those lines were already long gone. Clearly they were as he kept his face warm against your chest. Like it truly were an innocent refuge for him in this moment, but at the very same time you felt his already half hard cock rubbing against your legs.

He didn’t do anything more with that arousal right now at least. But his confused body didn’t seem to know the difference between affection and sex either.

Sex was affection to him. It was comfort. And evidently he sometimes wanted to be mothered by you as well, just as much as he wanted to always keep fucking you.

But the most immediate danger was again passing as you continued to give him what he wanted. You felt his muscles finally relaxing. All while you petted him more like something pitiful that had to be taken care of, rather than a true lover or equal partner in this instance at least.

Psychologists could fill entire books on a case study like Doflamingo you were sure.

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“Don’t leave me too.”

You heard those new drunken words break the silence. But you feared truly acknowledging them and possibly setting him off again as you just kept holding him. You stroked his face and down his neck to keep him calm.

Your heart rate was increasing regardless though as his arms tightened around your waist in return. His possessive body language was beginning all over again. But he said only one more heavy thing before closing both of his eyes.

“….don’t make me do it again. Don’t make me erase another light like you.”

——————————

That night felt endless. He had fallen asleep against your chest. So you’d been spared whatever sexual play he’d threatened from earlier, before he’d first started that story and gotten far too much into the wine.

But in exchange, you were left with a restless, fitful animal. Even though he was deeply asleep, you still felt him tensing and moving so many times during the night.

Sweat would form on his brow as his hands would clench. Sometimes with those fingers against your hips, or your arms, stomach, or elsewhere as he shifted around.

He was having nightmares.

And you couldn’t hope to sleep, your own body on high alert, waiting for strings to come out of his fingertips, waiting for pain if he forgot even for a moment where he really was.

Yet when he’d start moving again like that, you’d whisper his name and start stroking his head and neck once more.

His grimace would fade, and he’d start to still again.

It was exhausting. Like fighting a fire all alone the entire night. Fighting it, and protecting him when your own body and mind wanted so badly to give up as well.

And at some point you did. You didn’t have any endurance left when consciousness finally slipped away. But you’d already seen the sunlight through those portholes again when it did.

——————————

His head was aching. But warm fingers were caught in his hair. The sound of your heartbeat was against his ear as he tried to focus his good eye into that too bright daylight.

It was fucking morning again already. But he didn’t want to move. Your chest was soft, and your grip was still so welcoming somehow.

How much had he told you last night?

Those dreams had melted into the real words he knew he’d said. But it was hard to remember the difference, where one ended and the other began.

He’d tried to save himself all those years ago. He’d tried to do the right thing for what was left of his family.

Because Mariejois would never suffer a traitor. Blood traitors especially. The most grievous crime that could ever be committed against the gods was when one Celestial Dragon turned against another.

Death was the only possible result in such a rare tragedy. But Homing and Rosinante both had still chosen that fate in the end. His own blood had given him no choice but to carry out the only answer they knew would come for their crimes.

They’d chosen your licentious world instead of their heavenly birthright and had to be culled for it. Like diseased branches being cut away to save the larger tree.

And then he’d been fully orphaned, broken wings and all, stuck living alone in that same world in the end. But he was still carving out the best life he could in the circumstances.

He’d already retaken the Donquixote ancestral lands in Dressrosa. Retaken his heritage in the same castle his ancestors used to rule without mercy from.

And now he’d secured you, the elusive temptation that had evaded him for far too long beforehand. Of course you were no equal to him. The innate filth of your own blood was still something that could never be overwritten. But the gods were able to claim anything lesser than themselves that they desired.

So there was nothing improper in his need for you. Nothing he wouldn’t have still been allowed if he’d lived atop the world once more. He could have had as many human wives as he’d wanted. Bred all of them or none of them as he’d seen fit.

There were many half breed children in Mariejois. Most going straight into slavery of course, but not always. Pets were allowed too. They’d never hold the social status of a pureblood, but they could live a fully pampered life if their Celestial parent chose such for them. They could stay in the same home, be lavished and given affection like any other treasured possession.

And all this stress only reminded him of these possibilities time and time again.

He still wanted a replacement family for his that had been destroyed. He wanted you, his human mistress, and his half breed he could soon raise from you. He never wanted to feel as alone as he had in those nightmares ever again.

Doflamingo smirked, your heart beating so steadily beneath him still. That organ beat for only him, it belonged to him already.

But would you ever love him in return? Would you be grateful in the life he could provide for you? Would you understand how lucky you were to find this rare mercy within him at all?

It didn’t matter.

As long as he had what he wanted. As long as he always won and everyone else lost.

That was the natural way of things. And anyone who acted to truly interrupt these eventual outcomes could join Homing and Rosinante in his forgiveness of death.

He’d actually let you sleep though, as he’d finally untethered himself from your body. His bladder full from all the drinking of last night and his body needing relief as he’d taken the longest piss in the bathroom.

This vacation was finally over. All the meetings and business dealings he’d put off for the last few days to spend that time with you instead was now going to bite back at him in full force.

He knew this as he’d flushed the toilet and looked at himself in the mirror, knowing he needed to get ready to head to his office on board and start making overdue calls. But his mind still lingered in the past, even then.

Because his one intact eye that often reminded him of his mother’s perpetually sad ones reflected back at him tiredly in that mirror.

But the other eye was somehow sharp as always, even behind that milky white of scar tissue. As if it was watching him instead. The mismatched eye he’d been born with even before that arrow had first pierced it in this world.

The left eye and its larger red iris that used to frighten his peers and reject the sunlight enough that he’d been taught to cover it as far back as he could remember.

His one eye that matched the two of the one true god. The immortal who sat upon the empty throne. A being that he’d seen only once, when he’d brought Homing’s head to them in that last chance offering which was ultimately rejected. A past recipient of the Ope-Ope fruit’s greatest power he had no doubt.

Another ancestor of his perhaps, one whose eye and madness he had inherited. The nineteen original families of Mariejois had interbred for centuries after all.

But Doflamingo just laughed softly to himself, gripping the sink before he turned the water on to wet his hands and begin washing his face.

There was still so much that none of you knew. Information which those who sat on high would do anything to keep from spreading.

It was yet another reason you’d never be allowed to leave him once they realized how serious he was about you. Because those five old men and the monster they served would assume he’d shared all their secrets. And they’d surely kill you rather than give you any chance to talk if you ever fled from him and lost his protection.

Divorce would never be an option for you. It truly would be until death do you part.

——————————

You rolled over, and something about even being able to do that much was enough to finally wake you again. Because you weren’t trapped under him anymore.

Raising your head, you looked around, groggy and concern quickly growing on your face. Because you didn’t see him anywhere.

And as you’d experienced before, not seeing him was always worse to you. Because then you didn’t know his current mood, or his intentions. You had no sense of the current danger.

Slowly you sat up, bedsheets falling away from your nude form.

The sun was fully in the room. It was obviously later in the day.

There was a tray beside the bed. The same one that dinner had been served on last night. But all that was now gone.

A new plate was there. It looked like toasted bread. But with crushed tomatoes over it. Some had already been eaten, but there was plenty left.

You rose up carefully, peering into the drink pitcher beside it. Some kind of brightly colored juice was in the pitcher.

It should have been laughable of how cautious you really still were.

How afraid you were to do something as simple as eat when behind enemy lines like this. Pirates had prepared this food. They had readied this drink you had to remind yourself.

But only then did you notice a piece of paper, laid flat with its corner hanging out from under the pitcher on that silver food tray.

And when you slid that paper out, your very first reaction was to immediately be taken aback by the immaculate penmanship.

The only time you’d seen something like this was on decrees direct from Mariejois. It made the hurried writing you were more accustomed to in documented naval transmissions look like something you all had written with your feet by comparison.

Like this was a page fallen out of a book. But it wasn’t as you finally started to read it.

“I must have kept you up last night. That’s what happens when you let me drink too much, Captain. I considered leaving a string man to keep you company, but it would have been too boring just to watch you sleep.

We’ll be in Dressrosa by this afternoon. Clean yourself up and be presentable. Use my snail on the end table to summon anything you may need from the servants. I have work obligations. I wouldn’t recommend wandering the ship alone however. I wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty again. My travel crew doesn’t have the best manners after all. I’ll come back to you when we’re nearer port.

-D.D.”

And you held that paper for a while afterward, just entranced in the sheer novelty of it. He had truly beautiful handwriting, and he’d taken the time to write it for you.

It was the stupidest thing you’d likely ever felt. But you realized no man had ever written you a personal note for any reason.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” You said to no one but the sleeping snails. And then you did grab one of those pieces of bread off the food tray and took a bite of it in test.

And it was delicious. Because of course it was. With olive oil and garlic mixed in with some other seasonings you were too uncultured to identify in those crushed tomatoes smeared across it.

With the bread in one hand, you folded that note from Doflamingo gently with your other.

For some reason you didn’t want to get any food on it. And you didn’t want to throw it away either.

Just like him, it was insidious in how you kept thinking about it now. How you wanted to keep it.

How much you liked it.

——————————

The hours ran by so quickly. Just like he knew they would. He’d been on the phone with nobility from other kingdoms, with Cipher Pol agents, with pirate captains, and warmongers of all kinds. All his customers itching for their next arms, drugs, or random pick of any other contraband shipments that they’d been requesting which his networks were currently brokering for them.

It’d been interesting which clients dared to mention anything about the newspaper articles as well. Not all would, with his Joker identity and his public status as a warlord and king existing as two wholly separate things.

But of course there was one particular call that had everything to do with you.

Doflamingo had had his feet up on his desk by then, one ankle crossed over the other as he waited while it rang.

That cackling scientist knew better than to ignore a call from him. No matter what he may be working on with Vegapunk currently.

The transponder snail did connect at last. But the voice on the other end sounded far quieter than normal.

“J-Joker?” Came the question.

“Of course.” Doflamingo answered, but asking immediately. “Are you alone?”

“Alone enough. In a supply closet actually…” was the ridiculous answer.

A response the warlord knew was likely not at all a joke. What an idiot this was. But an extremely useful one. “Well, Caesar, I need to commission you for what should be something far more simple this time. Something I need immediately.”

Tight timelines were nothing new. The majority of the current drugs and war worthy poisons that Doflamingo sold all linked back to this growing business relationship with Caesar Clown.

Caesar and his constant need to prove himself superior to his official government boss, Dr. Vegapunk by any means necessary. Caesar also with his perfect combination of immorality, greed, and spinelessness to be used so well by a man like Doflamingo.

“Yes, of course, Joker.” The near salivation of what kind of new payday this would mean for him was all too evident.

The gas logia user loved his new patron’s very deep pockets. And Doflamingo was certainly willing to provide, given that the results remained what he fully wanted of course.

“I need a new drug. This won’t be a mass product though. This is going to be for personal use alone.”

There was a noise of interest at that of course. They all knew Doflamingo didn’t normally use his own supply of anything. Normally being the key word however. There were always exceptions.

And he just outright said it now. Because once the Heavenly Demon had made up his mind on something, it’s not like he’d have any further hesitation. “I’m in the market for a family actually. I assume you saw the papers.”

Silence hung for a moment. The cogs spinning no doubt. “Shurororo...” Came the odd, and bit nervous laugh. “I did, and that was a surprise. So bold of you, going after an enlisted woman…the marines must be scrambling.”

“They can waste their time all they want. It’s real.” Doflamingo said decisively. “I’m keeping her. But she may not be fully on the same page with all of that yet. But you know me…results are king. And I want to get down to business. I want a child with her. But I need a way around that standard marine issue contraceptive. I want to override it.”

“Oh my.” Caesar was truly caught off guard, but not for the underhandedness of course. The snail had an outright wicked smile then from the scientist. One that could have rivaled one of Doflamingo’s own. “Has baby fever struck in that oppressively hot country of yours? Though, all dynasties must start somewhere I suppose. So you’ll be wanting at least an heir and a spare then?”

“Just one to start.” Doflamingo corrected, though beginning to grin a bit himself. “Quality over quantity.”

“Of course.” Caesar quickly agreed in that overly subservient way of his, but clearly still so interested. His own sadistic nature was likely highly delighted in it all. “How much modification though? I’m sure you’re aware of the kind of things I’m capable of improving on. Vinsmoke was hardly the only one at the pinnacle of that foray into eugenics. I could design circles around that fool.”

And here was the thing Doflamingo knew he had to be firm on. “Vinsmoke’s wife also ended up dead and his children little more than machines. My blood won’t be wasted in such a bland result. Nor does it need such improvement.” His voice did darken too, letting his seriousness on this point be most known. “No permanent damage to the woman either. If there was, your own death would be something I’d make you pray for, Caesar.”

It was a bit more complicated than just being able to do a clean execution of this scientist if it came down to it of course. Because they had other projects in the works that absolutely needed Caesar. The one still pending with Kaidou chief among them. But there were some things worse than death, and everyone knew Doflamingo could absolutely deliver on a threat like that if pressed.

And Caesar did stutter a little at that. The message was clearly understood. “Y-Yes, Joker. A low risk pregnancy then, of course. But might I recommend at least a little added insurance against common toxins, and a bit of extra hardiness at least?” Poisons being one of Caesar’s specialties of course. “Assuming she will be the last to know of her, ah…condition. Smoking, drinking, all those fun things you know would probably not be well advised, could have countermeasures put in place. And marines do brawl a bit at times, don’t they?”

“Fair point.” He did want you to be the last to possibly know. Because as strong willed as you were, he had the real concern that you’d try to sabotage things yourself once aware. He couldn’t say for sure, but it was possible. “Is that doable? Just enough to make sure it thrives even if the host decides to disagree?” Doflamingo asked genuinely.

“Oh, very much.” And at that Caesar recounted the specifications as if they were talking about nothing more questionable than a grocery list. “So you aren’t interested in twins or any multiples, just the facilitation of a single ovum being released. And the only modification being what would be required for healthy development in a possible unideal environment…if the mother is still out bar hopping and roughhousing or whatever I imagine marines must all do.”

“She roughhouses enough with me, yes.” Doflamingo conceded with another smile. “But she’s no delicate flower. We both get rather hands on, and into the drink together.”

And Caesar chuckled again. “Shurororo…I can make that work. It’s just canceling out the hormones of the contraceptive and then adding in a few other factors for those modifications…and different hormones to force ovulation too as it sounds like you’re in quite a hurry. Otherwise it’d be a small window each month naturally. I can make a fixed window instead so you know exactly when the timing is right.”

“And no permanent side effects.” Doflamingo reminded. “Or you know what will happen to you.”

“Yes, Joker.” He could hear Caesar swallow even over the snail. “I’m so much better than Vinsmoke though. No need for concern, really. It would likely be nothing more than fatigue and cramping. No worse than their monthly cycles.”

“Then do it. Put it in something clear and tasteless. I’ll have your normal development and rush fees wired over to you by tonight. I want it delivered directly to me.”

——————————

There was no knock on the door. No warning at all as it just swung open. Which of course, it was his cabin.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t startle all the same. For someone so large not to be heard coming down the hallway, that was bothersome.

That pink mass of feathers moved into the room as the door shut behind him.

Doflamingo stared at you for a moment, or you assumed that he was. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses back over his eyes before he smirked.

“Not a bad sight to have waiting on my bed after a long day.” He murmured, approaching you where you now sat fully dressed on the edge of his mattress.

And he crouched before you could reply to him. Squatted in front of you suddenly when he leaned in for a kiss.

It was a bit rough as his lips met yours, but nothing extreme this time as he smiled afterward, faces still almost touching as his tongue dipped out briefly.

He looked more than satisfied.

“You probably felt us turning, Dressrosa’s on the horizon already. We’re heading for the south port in Acacia.”

“Alright.” You said plainly. It wasn’t as if there was anything else you could do. You’d cleaned up, dressed, even put makeup on to cover the bruising.

“Let’s change the bandage again.” He said though. “How long are you going to be able to walk for?”

And at least this process you’d done more than once now as you offered him your thigh. “Won’t really know until I try. But you are not carrying me in front of any cameras.”

He actually feigned a bit of a scowl there. Far less intense than his real ones as he started undoing the string wrap again from around your leg. The cords obeyed him so completely, white and soft as it unravelled to the floor. “Oh, but you’re forgetting where you are now, dear. I’m the king of the literal country of love and passion. It’d look very chivalrous on tomorrow’s front page wouldn’t it?”

“It’d make me look weak.” You gave him a real look of distaste in return.

“Then at least damn take something for the pain you stubborn brat.” But he was smirking then. Too happy in this moment finally being here you were sure. He’d brought you home with him at last.

All the advantage was now his as well. You were about to be in his country, with his crew, among his everything. You would have no power here save for whatever his extremely limited mercy allowed and you both knew it.

“I’m not drugging myself up on painkillers when I’m about to be in the same room as Trebol and Diamante.” You said with added certainty there.

Doflamingo’s hands did pause at that in the midst of rewrapping your wounded thigh as he asked, “Why?”

“Why?” And you did look at him there like he had two heads. “You know why!”

Somehow it had always been them. The only Donquixote officers that could ever get close enough to you. Trebol and his stupid snot that you’d gotten your legs caught in before. And Diamante with weapons that rained down like confetti, cutting you through even your haki as he’d grabbed you with his bare hands more than once.

Diamante had been the one that had scared you the most though. Because by all rights he’d really had you that one time. Before your coat had torn at the last moment. Somehow you had slipped right out of it and run for all you were worth, bleeding and with a badly dislocated arm all the way back to Tsuru.

You couldn’t have been more than sixteen then and it had thoroughly shaken you. Even for all the abuse you’d known as a child. All the aggression and beatings you’d had before when you hadn’t submitted like your mother’s bosses had wanted you to. None of that was the same as Diamante had been with you then.

Because you’d seen it in his eyes and felt it in the horrible things he’d said to you as his hands had gone places they should not have.

Your first real brush with that level of opponent, both in physical strength and his ability to truly get within your head.

Maybe it was idiotic to still be holding onto that, considering the far worse things the man right here in front of you had done since.

But it was still different. Somehow it was. Bleeding, being grabbed and touched by Diamante with your arm almost twisted out of its socket at only sixteen. Versus being jaded and angry, several years older and stronger with a sexual appetite of your own by the time Doflamingo had first pushed himself between your legs in Mariejois.

It wasn’t the same in your mind, right or wrong as Doflamingo still watched you, as he did finish the new bandage.

“You’re still afraid of them?” He asked simply. And you really couldn’t read him well at all then, in his body language or tone.

You looked away from those red sunglasses before you could help it though. Dammit, this was not the right time for this, not minutes before your supposed public debut in Dressrosa.

“You wouldn’t understand.” You replied.

“Try me.” He said as his hands went onto your knees.

He was still squatted in front of you.

And he must have seen some look on your face, something different there that he wouldn’t let go of.

But you still couldn’t say it. Just like you’d never told anyone the full extent of what Doflamingo had done to you in Mariejois or on Sabaody.

And at last you saw real irritation cut across his expression when he got tired of waiting. “I’m not asking you twice.” His grip on your knees tightened as he spread them a little. Just enough to move his torso between them.

You took a breath, fear edging you back to the present and to him. Fine, you’d just goddamn say it then.

And those words did come running out, just everything at once. It was either all or nothing it seemed when it came to admissions like this.

“I don’t even remember what town it was. But Trebol got a hold of my feet with that mucus to slow me down. I should never have tried to take them both on by myself. I knew better, but you know how fast things can go sideways in the field. They had me alone and then my boots were in that snot, and I was trying to get out and Diamante was fucking right on top of me. He was hitting me with so much I couldn’t keep my haki up. So I was bleeding and they were trying to get into my head. Saying I was just a whore and laughing to each other about if I was a virgin or not…and then Diamante said he’d check.”

You heard a sound in Doflamingo’s throat. And you quieted as his face abruptly touched against yours. But he didn’t kiss you. His hands which had been squeezing your knees now relaxed as he began to stroke your thighs.

And you didn’t know what reaction you’d expected from him. But this was not it as you’d let Doflamingo lean further into you.

“How much did Diamante touch you?” Came the next quiet, but equally firm question.

Which you did make yourself answer once more. Because you didn’t want him to turn on you again. And even as humiliating as this all was, you tried to stay only with the facts, not the dark emotions they inspired.

“It was one hand under my skirt, a finger between my legs. And one hand in my shirt, under my bra. But I twisted away from him. Then he grabbed and dislocated my arm at the shoulder and my coat tore. Somehow I came right out of that coat. I broke out of the mucus with the last haki I could make, and I ran away from the both of them. I escaped.”

“Did he push that finger inside of you?” Doflamingo asked so specifically then. Almost as if this was what was truly important in it all to him.

And you felt your stomach turn, disgusting as it was. You did not like acknowledging any of it, but you still answered with the warlord’s face nuzzled oddly into yours all the while.

“No. His finger was just feeling me on the outside. He was about to I guess. Before I pulled away.”

And maybe there was the slightest hint of relief in the way Doflamingo’s back muscles relaxed at that revelation. But even that still wasn’t enough. As he did have another very personal question for you.

“How old were you really when you lost your virginity then?”

And fuck, why did it even matter at this point? But maybe this was his way of striking when the iron was already hot so to speak. He had you vulnerable enough right now to tell him the truth, and he never missed an opportunity did he?

“Eighteen.” You said simply.

“Consensual?”

“Yes.”

He pulled back slightly, and you felt that stare on you again. There was no smile at all. “It was Kuzan…wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” And you felt your face muscles tighten once more. You knew how insanely jealous Doflamingo could be. So that nervousness peaked within you all over again. You didn’t want to fight.

But his anger didn’t come. At least not in the way you would have expected. You saw his own face shift strangely as a smile formed instead. But it wasn’t like his normal ones at all.

“Well, I was only fifteen when I lost mine.” He said from nowhere as your eyes widened. “And it absolutely was not consensual.”

But at least a little like you then, it was like those words couldn’t stop once he’d let them out. Even as his smile began to grow. That expression contrasted the brief strain in his voice.

“It was a fucking powerhouse of a man. He could have just snapped my neck then and there with one hand. But I’d killed his whole crew to take his territory from him. So he was going to make me pay in spades of course. I’d never had sea prism cuffs on before or since. I didn’t know how to fight very well then. And certainly not with my devil fruit taken away once he got those cuffs on me. Even my haki was nothing to him then, he was just that angry. I’ll never forget…the smell of that. The sweat and the hate, getting fucked, bent over a crate in some sweltering warehouse. And you know who pulled him off of me and beat him to goddamn death right then and there for all of his trouble?”

And Doflamingo actually laughed, loud and long then, as if that was the far better part of that violent memory.

But the horror in your own face couldn’t be matched, not at all as you already knew what he was going to say next before the names came out of his mouth.

“Trebol and Diamante.” He grinned, his sunglasses still blocking his eyes from you. Not showing his true self in any of this. “They heard it and they found us before anyone else.”

And you were blinking back tears by then, something he surely saw in your own eyes as he did kiss you suddenly again to stop it.

But had he told you this as his own way of showing you weren’t alone in the things you’d experienced against your will? Or was it just to prove the complicated nature of the monsters he surrounded himself with? Your attackers were his rescuers.

Or…could even something as devastating as that be a memory he would willfully use to garner your sympathy? As another manipulation to make you pity him? Surely not…

And yet he was grinning fully once he broke that kiss with you again, watching you like your reaction was so much more important than his in all of this.

And your heart was torn, finding these stories all still the seeds of nightmares, no matter the motivation. And you didn’t want to let go of him either. Not at all as you again remembered that cowering response he’d shown you if only for that moment the other day as well.

You knew he couldn’t have faked that, not the reflex from when you’d hit him. And all the movements last night as those nightmares had torn through him when he was drunk.

That wasn’t fake either.

That was wholly real.

And yet Doflamingo did so easily unto others what had once been done to him, didn’t he? It didn’t change what he was at all. He’d held you down and forced his cock into you more than once now. Even when you cried, even if you screamed.

He was still so unpredictable. Even as he was starting to show you all the roots from which this evil had grown from.

He stole another long kiss from you though, as if he knew. As if he knew you were overthinking what he didn’t want you to and his hand moved up to stroke the side of your face before he finally pulled back away.

“My crew won’t hurt you again. That’s all you need to know. And I’m ordering you to report it to me if they do. Because nothing happens in Dressrosa without my permission. Understood?”

“Yes.” You said so simply. Yet inhaling though, fighting to draw those emotions back in regardless.

He didn’t seem rattled at all either now in comparison to you, as he finally stood and offered you his hand. “But let’s go. Everyone’s going to want to meet you. This is a big day for the future of our monarchy after all.”

—————————

And you had shaken that pain away as much as you could. You both falling back into your public personas. Everything was a careful production in times like this, that was certain as the two of you had released the grip on each other’s hands just before exiting up the stairs and onto the deck.

He let you walk yourself then. At least seeming to be in agreement there that neither of you wanted to portray you as overly weak or too injured in the public eye.

And of course his crew had already been lined up and ready, all staring at you as if you were still some mysterious creature who clearly did not belong amongst them.

You could only imagine the rumors rolling through the ship. Being that you’d never left their captain’s cabin a single time while at sea. And all the bloody sheets the servants had had to find and launder.

But you ignored their looks now. Your attention fully going to your first views of what would be your new home for an indefinite future.

The island nation of Dressrosa.

Mooring ropes were being cast out to the dock workers below as the large ship began the process of lining up against it.

You couldn’t see much yet though. Just as you’d heard, Dressrosa was difficult to appreciate from a distance.

A circular island fully surrounded by a massive cliff face of light brown, almost yellowish rock which now towered above the ship. Only the smallest slit had been cut into this natural fortress to accommodate the port entrance. Such a narrow view as you tried to look at the multicolored rooftops you could see just a hint of in that distance beyond.

Of course, the other thing that could not be ignored was the crowd which had gathered, fully awaiting the unloading of Doflamingo’s ship.

And he was back behind you then, just as you’d noticed the flashes of cameras in the distance.

“Welcome home, love.” That dark voice whispered near your ear once more as he’d bent briefly down. “Just follow my lead once we’re on the ground. They’re very excited today…so keep your head up and stay moving. We’re heading straight for the palace.”

——————————

There was that briefest bit of nostalgia for Doflamingo as his foot soldiers kept the walkway open, parting the crowd for the two of you when you’d first set foot onto these public docks.

It wasn’t so long ago after all when these very same peasants had been shouting his name alone in adulation for their new king.

But now they wanted to know firsthand if all the reports and speculation of his new interest were true.

In this, the kingdom of love and passion, its citizens were falling over themselves to get their first real looks at you. The woman who their most eligible bachelor and king had now expressed a public fondness for.

But as the king’s plateau and his palace atop it would soon be coming into view, he shifted on his feet, just enough to bump you with his hip as you both still walked.

The abrupt touch did have you looking up at him reflexively. Just like he wanted you to of course as he smiled down at you and another camera flashed.

That was going to be a good picture.

But over the shouts of those reporters and the crowd, they weren’t going to hear what he said to you either.

“You only get to see your new kingdom for the first time, one time, darling. Are you paying attention?”

——————————

And of course you were. But there were so many other stimuli to consider too. You knew even now you were the marines’ sole representation on this island. So you tried to stay professional, walking without a limp in your uniform despite the pain. And not too entranced in any new sight or bothered by all the attention.

The thing you were finding most distracting though were these little things jumping around near everyone’s legs.

You knew what they were, but you’d never seen them in person. Especially when some small metal dog ran out nearly underfoot. Barking artificially with its metallic shine of purple polka dots before a girl grabbed it up to reclaim it, giggling bashfully at you all the while.

The living toys of Dressrosa is what they were, seemingly ubiquitous in their dispersal throughout the crowd. Each and every toy that you’d noticed was unique as well. Oddly cute in their own ways, but still strange as they begged for recognition from their human masters.

You didn’t know if they were fully mechanical, or perhaps it was something more akin to the homies of Totto Land in Big Mom’s territory? If they contained even a piece of someone’s soul that would be far more disconcerting to you. As far as whose piece it was and if there had been full consent to make them.

Either way, it was certainly strange and something you’d be wanting to learn more about in the future. But everything would be similar in that regard right now. All new and your mind not really knowing where to start before that massive landmass and Doflamingo’s main residence itself were then above you.

—————————

“My officers are waiting for us in the Hall of Suits. I called them earlier to know when to expect us.” He’d spoken to you again as the lift doors had closed to bring you both up through the king’s plateau via the elevator. To him, it was a novelty to have to enter his own palace through the street level like this.

Normally he’d be coming either from the hidden underground port late at night, or just through one of the windows straight into his office or bedroom at the top levels if he really had been out in the city or beyond alone for some reason.

Which he’d absolutely be bringing you out there for a private tour of the island at some point. At least the public portions of it anyway. Secrets would have to come later. He knew you were too intelligent to be kept in the dark for very long. But he needed far more safeguards in place before you could learn too much.

Those real reasons he and Dressrosa both had become so much wealthier just in the two years he’d now run things here. The revelations would come in time. But when they did, he’d already promised himself that you’d have a ring on your finger and a baby in your arms. Because then you’d have no way to leave him without losing your life or the child’s. He’d make any other options of true escape impossible for you.

That was the primary reason for his urgency on that call with Caesar today. Because he did hear that clock ticking in his head. Tsuru would be coming soon. So every potential weapon he had, had to be used and it had to be now. He wasn’t going to come this far just to lose you so soon.

And it truly should be unholy, how easily he was still able to offer you a warmer smile even as these thoughts rattled in his head.

You had looked up at him then, and the need for closeness overcame him as he took your hand again. The reporters had been left outside. It was only his foot soldiers in the lift with you to witness that sudden affection.

Them staring in result of it too as the doors opened again and he walked you into the main palace entryway for the very first time, his hand tight around yours.

He liked the feel of it so much. Just like in Scylla as the two of you had walked those streets together. Your hand absolutely disappeared within his, but that warmth did not.

The sense of ownership so comforting to him along with it as he pulled you lightly, leaving the foot soldiers to their duties elsewhere.

And at the last moment, he was feeling content enough to add a bit more fun to this too.

“We’ll take a shortcut through the courtyard.” He spoke to alert you, but without explaining why of course.

Because he knew exactly which type of his royal subjects would now be lazing about out there in the evening sun hoping for even a crumb of his attentions.

Unless he instructed otherwise, every morning the palace gates would be opened for them. Of course there were rules, attire that was required for admission for instance.

Always, it was the smaller those bits of bikini fabric, the better as he’d then led you out under the archway and their giggling voices erupted immediately at first sight of him.

“Your highness! Welcome home!”

And oh they were in full form today. More lithe bodies splashing about and sprawled in all the reclined chairs by his pool than was even customary. But he knew they would be. They had wanted to see you, their new competition after all. They wanted to judge for themselves how serious he was in all of this.

Even he wasn’t narcissistic enough to hope for much response from you however. Not immediately anyway. You just weren’t that easy to fluster in public when in uniform, with some exceptions of course.

But he would absolutely enjoy waiting to see if you carved out your own territory and put these girls in their place in the long run. They meant nothing to him of course, just time wasters to warm his cock in. And surely they all knew that too. But money talked, and he’d compensate them nicely when they performed well enough. They also heavily enjoyed whatever brief clout came from being his flavor of the week of course.

“Good evening, ladies. It’s good to be back.” Doflamingo did finally respond, letting those women hang on his every word as he tried to watch your reaction out of the corner of his eye regardless.

And you were watching them at least, not looking too impressed as he squeezed your hand a little harder.

“Perhaps we’ll be back outside tomorrow. I need to show the captain around the palace of course, but it’s been a long day already.”

Rarely would he have initiated conversation with them to this degree either, especially when just passing through.

But it was all for fun right now as he did see those pouty faces of theirs in response.

“Oh well, maybe tomorrow then! If she doesn’t have a bathing suit, she can borrow one of ours!” And they were giggling again. That mix of false politeness and challenge all at once.

You rolled your eyes, and that show at last of even the briefest negative emotion from you did make him laugh.

“We’ll see. I may have her too busy for all that.” And that was said in his deeper register. Enough so that that look on your face became more of a glare directed up at him as he grinned in return.

You didn’t like being hinted at as just his newest conquest either did you? But of course you were more than that. He just couldn’t help but be a bit catty too when there was so much of it going around at the moment.

He was tempted to grab your ass on the way out of the courtyard too. Enough that they would see it. But it wasn’t worth a full fight with you in this moment. Not when he knew you were about to be stressed enough as he brought you back inside and down that next corridor to the Hall of Suits.

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

End Notes: As always, thank you so very much for reading! My Doflamingo fixation compelled me to write Chapter 1 of this fic initially as a smutty one shot after almost three years of my not writing anything. I just had to get it out of my system. And to my shock, a few people actually enjoyed it! So, loving the One Piece fandom as I have been, I kept going wanting to contribute the little bit that I could to the larger OP fan-fiction sphere in the name of this pink bastard.

Now that this has become a multi chapter story (rare for me even when I did use to write more back in the day), there’s concepts I want to touch on that I feel I couldn’t do otherwise in a one shot. And for those that have read this from the very first chapter until now, I wanted to give you that preview. So that you can decide if this is still where you want to follow.

The main thing I have been waffling on is whether or not Doflamingo gets his way on baby trapping reader. It’s like pandora’s box for me as I keep going back to it, picking it up, and then putting it back down. But in the end, I’ve decided to open the box. Because I, personally, have to know. I want to see which Doflamingo we get when he’s actually a biological father since he’s so weird about his bloodline anyway. And I feel it would have to be by choice like this. Because he’s too smart to let that happen by accident. So I can’t do it without all the setup that we now have.

Also, I want to see how this will affect Law. Because it absolutely will. When a truly innocent child is now thrown into the works (Law grew up with Buffalo, Baby 5, and Dellinger and knows they’re already as screwed up as he used to be). But also since this kid will be the next Corazon in title. So to carry that name, that innocence, and likely a strong family resemblance to their late uncle…it would be a mind trip for Law. Would he be determined to save them from their father’s influence in the same way that Cora saved him? Or would he still only be worried about his own revenge?

That being said, Doflamingo will definitely suffer for this underhanded bullshit he’s about to pull on reader. Karma is coming. I promise. He’s going to be put through it emotionally. Charybdis that started it all in Chapter 1 is going to be an island that will return to hurt them both. I’m also not done with Aokiji or Crocodile in this. They are diehard DoflamingoxReader antis. Aokiji because he truly cares about reader, and Crocodile because he’s watching a repeat of his own past trauma at Doflamingo’s hands and just does not want that shitbird to win yet again.

So we’ll see what happens. Nothing is set in stone as I do write in a very improv heavy style of letting the characters take it where it will go. But that’s what I can say for now. Thank you, thank you, thank you again! 😭

-Moonbaby26

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x y/n #doflamingo x you #doffy x reader #doffy x you #doffy x y/n #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece fan fiction #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doflamingo one piece #op doflamingo #doffy #doffy one piece #one piece doflamingo #doflamingo’s marine

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chevelleneech · 2 months

Text

Leslye’s latest interview kinda makes me seem like a writer or something, idk🧐

J/k! But on a serious note, I do think my interest in screenwriting informs a lot of how I interpret the things I watch. I’m not pretending to be exceptional or better than anyone else, but I am going to pat myself on the back the tiniest bit, because I said something similar to what she said about Qimir knowing Osha wasn’t Mae in the apothecary. He knew, and her power drew him in almost instantly.

As well, in this post about Sol confusing Mae and Osha when they were younger, I said I was pretty sure it was done to highlight just how little Sol understood his emotions and his supposed connection to Osha. He felt one, yes, but that doesn’t mean he knew enough about the twins to decide he had a right to act on it.

Anyway, this was fun to read and kind of learn what I (and many other people surely) were right in our interpretations of. Sol meant well, yet acted wrong. And although Qimir was painted as the antagonist this season (even though I think the secret of what happened on Brendok is the true villain) he still sees Osha for who she is, no matter the fact that he wants her to tap into her power for personal gain, to an extent.

This understanding also informs why and almost how Leslye foresees Oshamir coming about. Because in other parts, she speaks about how Qimir still doesn’t say directly he is a Sith, and above she mentions how he feels the pull of her power and wants to train her same as Sol, and how that points to who her true Master will be.

If her words are to be taken at face value, Oshamir will happen, I think, because their Master and Pupil relationship won’t work. Sol was a Jedi raised on honor, peace, loyalty, control, and authority. Yet he struggled well into adulthood with most of those things, which caused mass murder. Qimir, based on what he’s said, was also raised on those things yet realized the latter three were unsustainable. Which Osha has felt since she was a child that unquestioned loyalty to authority figures whom only give you a semblance of control wasn’t what she wanted forever.

So Qimir is going to be training someone who is almost too much like him in beliefs, yet someone who likely isn’t as non-discriminate in her killing. Meaning they’re going to butt heads over what is right and wrong, and end up having to talk more to understand each other’s side better. And getting to know each other’s moral lines and triggers to avoid, inevitably grows them closer together. Therefore, their Master/Pupil dynamic is thrown out the window, because there’s already sexual tension between them and they haven’t even fought for real yet, lol.

#the acolyte #leslye headland #master sol #qimir #Oshamir

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 16 days

Note

I really like the way you write. Keep up the good work!

After reading some of your works, I also wanted to ask you to write something, if, of course, you like this idea and you want to write it. What about this: The gardener-reader and Donna (who was at the Lords meeting) decided to relax and drink some alcohol after a hard day's work. Maybe they'll be watching a movie? I don't know. Then they got drunk, Donna became more relaxed and the Reader blabbed that she was in love with her. Can you make it romantic, pleeeeease?

I want to thank you again for writing these works for us, you are the best!!!! (English is not my native language, so don't worry about mistakes. Everything comes with experience. I believe in you!)

And I wanted to ask a question. Do you prefer to write a long stories (>8000 words) or short ones (≈5000-6000 words)?

Yesss!! Thank you for your words, and for your request! To answer your question: it depends on the plot or on my inspiration ;) I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))

Blurred Confessions

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Gardener! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff,

Word count: 6,709

Summary: You want to tell her your feelings, but you can't

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!

It was getting harder and harder for you to look around. Night in that lost village often came without warning, or rather, it was you who didn't pay attention to the drop in temperature and the fact that you no longer saw the colors of the plants in the same way.

Being a gardener in a snow-covered place was a complicated task, you knew that. Standing out among the rest of the villagers thanks to a talent for plants was a risky move. No one in that place cared about their garden, or that their houses lacked the cheerful color of flowers.

Praying to the Black Gods, praising Mother Miranda, those were the only concerns of people like you. But you weren't like the others. You always saw the color in the snow, the joy in the sadness, the light in the darkness.

Naturally, taking care of plants wasn't your destiny. Surely if you hadn't been so stubborn, you would have ended up like the rest of your friends: being maids of the castle, or wives of an idiot man. Two paths that seemed far away to you, that you never wanted to follow. But... Who could be interested in someone with your talents?

The answer was not long in coming.

As in any time or context in history, the luxury of the joy of flowers and plants was only attainable for a few people who could afford not to spend all day praying or working.

In the Middle Ages, it could be the king of the place, in that village, they were the Lords. Yes, they worked hard for the inhabitants of the village, they protected them from the aberrations they created. But they were still that, authorities, nobles whom you served.

No one warned you that your skills would catch the eye of one of them. Just when you thought that maybe you should accept your fate, admit the place where you were born, she appeared.

Donna Beneviento, the youngest of the Lords, the most feared, the most dangerous, asked about you at one of the masses about your talent with plants. You knew the danger you were in, you knew the ill fortune that befell anyone who dared to enter her territory. You knew it, but you didn't care.

And so, you were no longer a candidate for the castle maids, or a possible unhappy wife. You were the new gardener of House Beneviento.

You didn't want to think about how your ancestor ended up, that poor man who gave his life to that family, and who was rewarded with a horrible death, or so you had heard.

Thinking or remembering the things the villagers said would have been a prudent act, but you didn't. They said she was sick, disturbed, a psychopath, a murderer, a hermit. You could have been more careful, you could have paid attention to all those red flags that danced around you when you agreed to work for her.

You didn't, and you didn't regret it.

Sick? Maybe. Dangerous? Sure, but what they never warned you about, what you never knew, was that you could fall in love with her.

Yes, you were always fanciful, infatuated, romantic, but you never believed in love at first sight, at least not until you saw her face stripped of its black veil. According to the lady, it was a test, a test that you would be faithful to her, that you wouldn't run away, that she wouldn't be forced to kill you.

At first silence accompanied you as you took care of that garden, it seemed as if you were taking care of an abandoned place. Then she appeared from time to time, studying your work, exchanging brief phrases of approval, or simply gratitude.

Little by little those small visits increased, the words were no longer few, the conversations became frequent.

Donna was a strange woman, certainly disturbed, but… Maybe all those horrible things were simply an exaggeration. She was kind to you, always speaking to you in that soft melodic tone, curious about the way you treated plants.

Over time you stopped trembling in her presence, you began to long for her, to count the hours that passed before the lady left her house. Fantasies, yes; nonsense, too, but… Who could live without love in a place like that?

Like flowers, those kinds of feelings were a luxury. Letting your heart beat fast in her presence was a liberation, a reminder that your life was much better, that you could allow yourself to love even if she never felt the same, or so you thought.

“Where could she have gone?” you asked as you ran a hand over your forehead, looking at the path that led to the elevator.

One of your favorite pleasures was saying goodbye, it was standing in front of her, bowing your head. You didn't want to be just another employee, deep down you knew you weren't and you never would be.

Someday you would have to admit it, recognize that your feelings would never be reciprocated. Donna was a woman who enjoyed solitude. She would never want a stupid, talkative gardener by her side. But, at least, you wanted her to have something resembling a friend.

A shadowy figure approached slowly, a dark shadow, a lady in black, veiled, holding that sinister puppet. At last, Lady Beneviento had returned and with her, another opportunity for her to speak to you with that sweet voice, to make her aware of your presence.

“Oh, Donna, how was the meeting?” you asked as you stood up, with a bright smile.

The lady in black turned her head to look at you, but walked past, emitting something like a grunt.

It was always a whim of luck, a whim of her mind. One day she might stop to talk to you for a while, even laugh in that shy way you adored, another day she might remain silent, ignoring you. Other times, you couldn't even sense her presence.

It seemed that luck was not on your side that afternoon. The lady slowly climbed the steps but, upon reaching the door, she sighed, turning around again.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked in a hoarse voice, almost pitiful, but with that softness that always accompanied her, that seemed impossible for her. “Your shift is over.”

“Oh, yes, well,” you said, shaking your head, pointing to a bush with your tool. “The flowers were unruly today and…”

“The flowers were unruly,” the lady repeated, in a dark tone. You hated that veil, the veil that hid her expressions, her smiles.

“Yes,” you nodded, with your hands on your hips. “Besides, the weather is very nice today. It's nice to be outdoors and…”

The sound of the wind camouflaged your voice, making you blush. Donna sighed again, looking at the sky, that was getting darker.

“How curious, I'd say a blizzard is coming,” she commented in an almost imperceptible voice, leaving her doll on the ground. “I'm afraid your day of work has been for nothing, (Y/N).”

You shrugged, your usual playful attitude, sighing.

“How was the meeting?” you asked again, moving a little closer to her, just a little. You were never exactly a shy girl, but you tried not to forget who you were talking to. Caution was not a sin.

Donna sighed again, looking away and reaching out her hand to the door.

“Horrible,” she muttered, close enough for you to hear. “Go home, you’ll get caught in the storm.”

“Yeah, well, I have to finish this and…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, giving up. The lady in black didn’t seem in a good mood, unfortunately. A cold prick landed on your nose, a snowflake confirming her prediction.

After that came another one, and then many more, turning into a horrible blizzard that cut your face like blades.

“Well, I think, I think…” you murmured, taking shelter on the porch. “Wow, it’s a blizzard”

“Mm,” she murmured, opening the door of the mansion, ignoring you again. You sighed, relaxing your shoulders at that terse answer. You should stop dreaming.

Nodding in defeat, you covered yourself with your hood, lowering your head and slowly going down the stairs.

“What are you doing?” the lady asked suddenly, making you turn around in curiosity.

“I'm going home,” you said, fighting against that terrible wind.

“Stop fooling around and come in,” she told you, pointing to the interior of the mansion. “To find a gardener like you is not easy.”

“Oh, I…” you hesitated, looking at the blurred path, and then at the the door. An interesting situation, indeed, would you dare to lose that opportunity?

“If you want to freeze to death, it's not my problem,” Donna whispered, crossing her arms impatiently.

“Okay, okay,” you said amused, climbing the stairs again and entering the dark mansion, closing the door behind you with an amused look. “Thank you.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured again, moving away from you and shaking the snow off her dress while she got rid of her black veil, something that had not been usual for a long time, since she hired you.

“Don't steal anything, stupid, stupid,” Angie told you off, always interrupting those quiet moments. You were already used to it.

“I'm not going to steal anything,” you said amused, shaking your head and rubbing your body with your arms.

“You're cold,” the lady commented, seeming to ignore you, looking at you with that bright eye that haunted you in your dreams.

“A little,” you said, shivering, paralyzing when she approached slowly placing a hand on your cheek.

“Mm, would you like some tea?” she murmured, removing her hand from your slightly hotter, flushed cheek. You shook your head, amused.

“I never liked tea,” you whispered, with a feigned grimace of disgust. The lady in black arched her eyebrow, looking at you with curiosity and something resembling a smile. “My father said that there was nothing like vodka to take the cold from your bones.”

Donna looked at you again, laughing softly with a shy sigh.

“Vodka then,” she said, tilting her head in an amused manner, indicating for you to follow her.

You walked with her into the living room, sitting in a small cozy corner, on the same sofa where she had questioned you when you arrived, in the midst of an almost unbearable tension.

“Wait here,” she ordered you, walking away from you with an elegant step, like a dark breeze whose existence you could not be sure of.

Some villagers said that Donna was just a ghost, a legend, that there was nothing under that black dress. You knew they were wrong. You brought your hand to your cheek, the one where her hand had rested moments before, where the softness of her hands had confirmed to you that she was real, that this beautiful woman existed.

“Here you go,” her soft voice brought you out of your thoughts again, leaving a glass on the table, next to a bottle of alcohol.

“Thank you, Donna,” you said kindly, smiling and pouring the hot liquid, drinking it immediately, making an unpleasant face.

“I thought you liked it,” Donna commented, amused, sitting in front of you, looking at the window, whipped by the storm.

“Yes, well... I said it made you warm, you should try it.”

You offered your glass to the lady, who took it with a dark, distrustful look. Sighing, she brought the liquid to her lips, rejecting it immediately, returning the glass to you among unpleasant coughs.

“Ugh, I'd rather freeze to death,” she commented amused, calmer, apparently.

The silence began to become heavy in the mansion. Your throat burned from the vodka, but shyness was what prevented you from speaking. You weren't, you weren't shy, but with her... With Donna everything was different.

“Well...” you sighed, dancing with your gaze around you, trying not to notice her serious face, one that seemed to want you to leave, and at the same time that enjoyed your presence. “What happened at the meeting? Why has it been so horrible?”

Donna looked away slightly, frowning and shaking her head. A risky question. You should never get involved in the affairs of the Lords.

“I, I don't want to get involved in your affairs... For, forget I asked you,” you said nervously, seeing how the brunette's attitude tensed again. You didn't want to endure another crisis. It hurt you to see her out of control.

“I just...” she sighed, shaking her head, leaning her back on the chair.

You nodded, pouring yourself some alcohol.

“I, I just don't understand their attitude,” she explained, crossing her arms, slowly letting the air out of her lungs. “My sister and brother fight constantly... It's... exhausting.”

“Mm, I thought they got along,” you commented, moving your glass absentmindedly.

“They get along,” Donna corrected. “They enjoy fighting, you know? They seem to be looking forward to meeting up to shout horrible things at each other and gouge each other's eyes out.”

“Well, opposites attract,” you whispered, amused.

The lady in black laughed softly, shyly, in that way that you adored.

“I highly doubt it, (Y/N),” she said with a dark, mocking look. “Alcina is too busy with her maids and Karl is too busy with his… Well, experiments. See? That's what I mean. They seem to be constantly thinking of a thousand ways to unleash chaos.”

“You don't want chaos,” you murmured in a softer, more studious tone. She shook her head, looking away.

“I just want… Well, to work on my dolls without being disturbed. I don't need to know the villagers fear me… I already know that,” she explained. “Sorry, I'm just rambling…”

You, pouring some more vodka into the glass, offered it to her again. She looked over it at you, but accepted it, coughing again at the sting of that liquor.

“The second one is easier, huh?” you said amused, picking up the glass again.

“(Y/N), I…” Donna said, snapping you out of your amused tone, hardening her gaze. “Deep down, I envy them.”

“Why?”

“You, you know… They, they seem to be happy with their life, with the gifts of the Gods, but I…” she said, sighing again, tired.

“You aren’t’,” you murmured in a cautious voice, trying not to look directly at her. Donna shook her head.

“I would have preferred to be like you, a normal woman,” she commented, snatching the glass from you and drinking it in one gulp.

“I thought you didn't like vodka,” you joked at her disgusted gesture.

“I don't like it, I only have it for cooking,” she said, clearing her throat. “It's been a very intense day…”

“Oh, of course, I… I better go home, I don't want to disturb you,” you said, getting up from the sofa.

“I'm sure your day has been hard too,” she said, getting up at the same time, playing nervously with her hands.

“Yes… Those flowers are going to kill me,” you said amused, walking slowly towards the exit.

The lady in black laughed again, with a blush on her cheeks, a blush you didn't notice.

“Che divertente sei…” she whispered in a soft voice. You looked at her confused.

“Um…”

“You're funny, stupid,” Angie said when you made eye contact with her. You opened your mouth and nodded, confused again.

“Funny or stupid?” you asked the puppet, who shrugged, passing by you in a disinterested manner.

“The, the storm looks dangerous,” Donna commented, approaching the door next to you.

“Bah, don't worry,” you said, grabbing the knob with your hand. “It's nothing that... Oh!” you exclaimed, when you opened the door and a cold draft entered the mansion, forcing you to close it again. “Okay.”

“You can stay a little longer if you want, (Y/N),” Donna said, laughing at your snow-stained clothes. “I'll prepare some dinner.”

“Oh, no, no, you don't have to, Donna,” you said nervously when the lady turned around.

“I want to,” she said, with a serious tone, with a frown. You knew that you shouldn't contradict her, or so they had told you. Dinner with her… It didn’t sound that bad.

“Mm…” you murmured, already with a plate of steaming food on the table, studying a bottle of wine. “Bru… Brunello… De, Di… Montal… Moltanci…” you read the label confusedly, looking for her approval. She responded with another of her amused smiles.

“Brunello di Montalcino,” she repeated correctly, taking a sip from the glass, fixing her gaze on you.

“Oh, right,” you said amused, pouring some and putting the bottle back on the table. “It sounds sophisticated.”

“It doesn’t,” she commented, sighing sadly, something that caught your attention. “It's my sister's wine, Regina Rose.”

“Mm?” you asked curiously, studying the bottle again. “Really?”

“The Duke has a habit of changing the labels to sell it to me as Italian wine. He must think I'm stupid,” the lady said, shaking her head.

“The Duke scamming people? No, it can't be true,” you joked, taking a sip, confirming the truth of her words. “He's more stupid than I thought, how dare he to deceive a Lord?”

“He only does it because I let myself be deceived, (Y/N,)” she whispered, with that same sad tone. “I know it, and he knows that I know it. He's trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that.”

“Oh...” you murmured, looking away at your almost finished dinner.

“I'm sick of it, you know?” she said, pounding the table with her fist angrily, causing you to hold that fake bottle so it wouldn't fall. “I’m sick of everyone feeling sorry for me.”

“Um... Um...” you stammered nervously, watching as her glass slid down her throat with a furious gasp, gesturing for you to refill it. Her erratic attitude was always a mystery to you, one you were willing to solve.

“Poor silly Donna, poor mentally underdeveloped Donna, let's make her feel better so she can forget about her fucking shitty life, huh?” she said again, looking at you with a fiery eye, gulping down another glass of wine and filling yours again.

“Donna, the silly, the silly...” Angie said, tugging at her dress to get her attention. “You're going to scare the silly.”

You opened your eyes in surprise, not wanting to make contact with hers, drinking that glass of wine again, confused and somewhat afraid.

“Cazzo…” she cursed with a growl, crossing her arms and looking at you intensely, sighing. “I'm sorry, (Y/N), I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Calm, calm down,” you said with a fake smile, shaking your head. “I feel you.”

“What? What do you know about how I feel?” Donna protested with a direct question, with an accusatory tone. You had to fix it.

“Well, I don't know but… Hey, I know what it's like to feel out of place,” you said nervously, controlling the shaking of your legs. “I was the only one of my friends who didn't think about boys and… Well, who saw the beauty of plants. I know it's not the same but… Well, it's something similar.”

“You're trying to be empathetic,” she whispered, looking away, swirling her half-empty glass.

“No, I'm just telling the truth,” you replied, finishing your glass. “I never had any real friends, you know, I wasn't alone, but…”

“Mm,” she murmured, disinterested, looking at you out of the corner of her eye, relaxing her expression. “At least with you here I'm not… I'm not alone anymore.”

It was a murmur, a whisper somewhat distorted by the wine. Your cheeks burned with the heat of the alcohol and with her presence. It would be better to go home.

“Thank you for the dinner, everything was delicious, Donna,” you said kindly, with a melancholic smile, getting up from the table.

“I’ve scared you,” the lady said, shaking her head, with an ironic smile.

“No, it's just that… It's late and…” you murmured confused and nervous, looking out the window, a window still battered by the blizzard.

“Show me that you're telling the truth,” she whispered in a dark tone, with one eye shining from the copious intake of fake wine. “Stay with me a little longer.”

“Oh, well…” you said with a shy smile, also affected by the alcohol. “Okay,” you said without difficulty, shrugging your shoulders.

Donna smiled genuinely, with that slight blush more present on her cheeks.

“Do you like movies, (Y/N)?” she asked in a different tone, as if your answer had relieved her. You nodded profusely, feeling a slight disinhibition in your body. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

“A movie? Sure,” you answered enthusiastically, while the lady approached, playing nervously with her hands. Her smile widened, as did her blush.

“Come, oh, and get that bottle,” she told you, pointing to another unopened bottle, one that you immediately opened, following her through the dark hallways.

The basement was unknown to you, sinister. The cracked walls and the wet wood entered your body, destabilizing it. Maybe it had been the wine, or the vodka, but that place gave you shivers.

“Sit, sit down,” Donna asked you, pointing to a sofa while she searched for something on that messy table. You obeyed with curiosity, leaving two glasses on the table, observing that place, that strange device that the lady in black manipulated.

“It looks old...” you whispered curiously, pointing to the projector. She looked at you amused and nodded, turning it on and sitting next to you.

“It was my father's,” she commented, pouring you a glass of wine, raising it in the air. “Thanks for keeping me company, (Y/N), salute...” she said clinking her glass with yours.

You laughed amused, blinking nervously and shrugged, taking a sip.

“Salute,” you murmured, savoring that ordinary wine.

The movie seemed fun, interesting, but much more so was being next to her, so close, making that little dream you had come true. Your work clothes brushed against her dress, her labored breathing reached your ears, you could smell her lavender perfume, you could feel the heat of her body very close to yours.

You moved closer, taking advantage of her relaxation, the disappearance of those demons drowned in wine, the tranquility of her presence. Maybe the alcohol was taking its toll on you too, but you didn't care.

“You said you weren't interested in boys,” Donna murmured, putting her glass down on the table, turning to look at you, with one hand holding her head casually. “Can you explain that to me?”

“Oh…” you said, nodding, putting down your glass as well, not wanting to look at that bottle, already half empty. “Well, I guess… You won't burn me for being a pagan or something like that, right?”

Donna laughed amused, shaking her head.

“Don't talk nonsense, I'm just curious,” she commented, sighing, not stopping looking at you.

“I never liked them,” you said passively, looking at the ceiling instead of the screen. “You know, my parents said: marry a man, have lots of children, be very unhappy, all that nonsense…”

“So it was just to go against your parents’ will,” she commented, confused, with a different expression.

“What do you mean?” you asked curiously, amused, letting your body relax even more.

“Mm, nothing, I'm just asking,” she said, amused, revealing the effect of alcohol on her attitude.

“You're asking if I like women,” you whispered amused, nudging her slightly, dragging out your words. “Come on, ask me.”

“Saying that, you're already giving me the answer,” she murmured, with a mocking smile. You arched your eyebrows, raising and lowering them in a mischievous way. “I'm sure you drive them crazy.”

“Do you think so?” you asked amused, ignoring part of that question, overlooking that insinuation because of that damn wine.

“Yes, I'm convinced you have a beautiful village girl waiting for you to return and you, look at you, you’re drinking and spending time with your boss…” the doll maker sighed, taking another sip of wine, with a slightly more serious look.

“I thought we were… friends,” you said confused, hiccupping embarrassedly.

“Do you consider me your friend?” Donna asked, breathing heavily again, shaking her head.

“Of course,” you said amused, putting a hand on her knee. “And before you ask, no, I don't have any Juliet waiting for me to come back. What about you? I can't believe someone like you doesn't have a long line of admirers.”

“You're wrong, (Y/N),” she whispered tiredly, looking away. “You're the only person I talk to.”

“Oh…” you said, nodding erratically.

“It must be wonderful, isn't it?” she asked after a moment of silence, getting more comfortable on the couch. You looked at her strangely pouring yourself what you said it would be your last drink.

“Mm?”

“You, you know, being in love…” the lady in black sighed, playing with the fabric of the old sofa. “Feeling that someone loves you and…”

“Well,” you interrupted, with your thoughts focused on her, on what you felt for her. “It's not always a good thing, you know?”

“Isn’t it?” she asked curiously, getting a little closer. You shook your head.

“Nothing I've ever experienced is even like those romantic books, never… Well, sometimes you think you love a person but… In reality you don't. You fool yourself,” you commented, remembering past, failed romances.

“How can you know that you're really in love?” she asked curiously, interested in the conversation, completely forgetting the movie. “You say that sometimes it's confusing.”

“You know, because… Because you feel that…” you began to explain, feeling enormous sadness, the frustration telling you that you had your beloved by your side, and that you couldn't do anything, you couldn't, right? “You feel like the world stops, that your mind can't draw anything other than… Her… That your heart races when she's near, that… That you know you couldn't live without her…”

“You seem to know a lot of thing about love,” the lady said, moving away, with an amused smile, dragging out her words, succumbing to the effect of the wine.

“I know because… Because…” you said, sitting up better, committing a madness, one that you didn't think possible. Taking advantage of her apparent distraction, you took her soft hand, caressing it, feeling good with her soft skin brushing yours. She didn't move away, she just looked at you confused, letting your fingers intertwine. “… It's, it's what I feel when I'm with you.”

“You…” she sighed, caressing you back, nervous but uninhibited, looking into your eyes, as if time had stopped. “You feel that way… about me?”

“Have you seen yourself, Donna?” you asked amused, but calmly. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and… You are, you are kind and… Perfect and… I dream, I dream of you every night, I dream that we are like this, holding hands, I dream that I am not a simple gardener, that I am something, something else for you.”

She looked at you, open-mouthed, with a smile betraying her own feelings.

“You feel something for me?” she asked again, getting closer, taking your free hand, caressing it in a comforting way.

“Donna, I'm… In… In… in love with you,” you confessed without difficulty, without fear, with the voices in your mind camouflaged by the fruity flavor of that red drink, that mechanism that caused your deepest feelings to come to light.

“And, and I’m in love with you… (Y/N),” she sighed with an almost inaudible voice, with her smile not wanting to fade. Your heart was beating hard, your body burning with happiness. You couldn't ask for anything else at that moment, or well, maybe you could.

“Look, we already have something in common,” you joked nervously, blushing, without taking her hands off yours. Donna laughed too, shaking her head, looking away again.

“I, I would really like to kiss you,” she said suddenly, lightly pulling your body, bringing it closer to hers. You, who already believed that everything was nothing but a dream, nodded, caressing her cheek, letting her eye close at your touch.

“What are you waiting for?” you mocked, biting your lip.

Donna laughed nervously, capturing your lips in a shy, chaste, almost innocent kiss. She pulled away and you smiled, pulling her to kiss her again, to caress her lips with yours, so as not to let them escape.

What at first seemed like some kind of experiment by the brunette, soon became a tangle of kisses, caresses, and gasps. You had just what you wanted. You had the woman you loved with you, kissing you in an increasingly less clumsy way, leaning over you.

Your hands traveled to her hair, to her back, hers were caressing every exposed part of your skin. The taste of the wine traveled through your lips, mixing with your breathing. It was an intoxicated, sincere kiss, a sweet and bitter kiss, like the wine itself.

The sound of the projector acting strangely pulled Donna away from you, diverting her gaze from your lips. You smiled, kissing her quickly before she got up from the couch.

“I have, I have to stop… This,” she said awkwardly, her voice taken over by alcohol and excitement, stumbling several times before reaching her destination. “Wait a minute.”

“Don't be long, darling...” you said, settling down on the couch, a bad idea.

The sleepiness that the drink caused fell upon you, forcing you to close your eyes and groan comfortably as you curled up on the couch. You could hear the sound of her heels coming closer, her nervous breathing that soon relaxed as she saw your dozing figure.

“You're exhausted, aren't you?” she said, her voice still sounding forced, intoxicated, caressing your hair, a gesture that you protested with a tender grunt.

The lady moved away, searching the old office for a blanket to cover you, kissing your forehead timidly.

“We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay, tesoro?”

“Mm...” It was the only thing you could say, or vocalize, the sleep was too intense.

Then, darkness came.

You opened one eye, then the other. Your head was pounding, your temples were throbbing, but that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was the image you had in front of you, the sinister gaze of a well-known puppet... Angie.

“Yiahhh!” you screamed in fear, moving around on the couch, falling off it with a crash. “Shit... Angie...” you whispered, with one hand on your head.

“Wake up, stupid!” the puppet yelled, causing a horrible pain in your head.

“Shhh, don't yell...” you lamented, rubbing your temples, studying your surroundings. You were in the office, that was the last thing you remembered. The almost empty bottle of wine reminded you that you had been drinking, but... That was all you could remember.

“How did the Sleeping Alcoholic sleep?” the doll asked mockingly as you stood up clumsily.

“Shut up, will you?” you protested, folding the blanket, trying with all your might to figure out why you were there, why you hadn’t come home, what you were doing in the office, what had happened. “Where’s Donna?”

“Upstairs,” Angie said, pointing to the ceiling comically. “Relax, she’s not as hungover as you.”

“Hangover?” you asked curiously, sighing as you looked at the bottle. “Oh…”

“Stupid villagers like you can’t handle alcohol, huh?” she mocked again, while you searched for an appropriate insult. You couldn’t find one and left the office.

“Bu, buongiorno, (Y/N),” the lady in black said. She was waiting patiently in the dining room, with a bright smile. You smiled awkwardly, moving your hand to wave back.

“Hi, Donna…” you sighed, walking slowly, stopped by the lady in black, who offered you a glass of water.

“Here, drink this. I'm sure your head hurts a lot,” she said, nervous but with a radiant, different smile. You drank that medicine with a sigh, scratching the back of your neck.

“Thank you,” you whispered. She nodded, playing with her hands again, walking towards the table, where a hearty breakfast was waiting for you.

“I, I've prepared some breakfast for you... Do you, do you have coffee, juice... To, toast, whatever you want,” she said nervously, pushing you slightly so you sat on the chair.

“Wow... How thoughtful,” you said kindly, with a frown, trying to remember. “Thank you, Donna.”

She nodded biting her lip and sat in front of you, not taking her eye off yours.

“What a night, huh?” she murmured, breaking the silence of that breakfast, one that you were grateful for. No, you didn't want to talk about that night, you didn't remember anything.

“Yes… Well… I think… I drunk too much,” you said with a hoarse voice, clearing your throat, avoiding her gaze.

“Me too,” she said, amused, with a shy smile that didn't seem to want to leave her face.

“Well, you seem to be better than me,” you commented with a fake smile, enduring the headache that was slowly receding.

“I have, I have my own reasons,” she said in a whisper, laughing shyly. You, confused, nodded with disinterest.

“Oh…” you murmured, slowly sipping your coffee.

The silence returned, that time more tense. Donna looked at you, as if she wanted to say something, but didn't dare, or didn't want to. Neither did you.

“(Y/N), I…” she commented, leaving the coffee on the table, with a slightly more serious tone. “I wanted, I wanted us to talk about last night.”

“Last night…” you whispered, closing your eyes, sighing. Everything was a blur, you couldn't remember anything.

“Yes, well, the, the things that… Happened,” she stammered, changing happiness into concern.

“What happened?” you asked curiously, eating a toast. “Did I make a fool of myself?”

“No, no, you…” she said, with a nervous laugh, studying your gaze. “You… don't remember?”

“I'm sorry, but I don’t,” you confessed with a tired sigh, rubbing your forehead. “Did something happen?”

“You don't remember,” she murmured sadly, with her hands beginning to shake. “You don't remember anything you told me?”

“Mmm, no…” you said amused, without giving it any importance.

Her breathing became even more agitated, she didn't know what to say, what to do. You too started to get nervous, to feel uncomfortable.

“Get out,” she hissed, with a dark look. You raised your eyes to her, shaking your head.

“What?”

“Get out, get out of my house,” she hissed again, clenching her fists tightly, slowly getting up from the chair.

“Donna, what is it…?” you asked, obeying confused, backing away.

“Get out, get out! Fuori di qui!” the lady shrieked, completely unhinged, out of her mind. She approached with a firm step, pushing you by your chest, hitting you hard.

“Hey, hey! Donna, wait, wait, what…?” you said nervously, walking forcefully towards the door.

“I don't want to see you, get out!” she shouted desperately, tears wetting her cheek, with a furious sob, closing the door in your face, leaving you stupefied at the entrance of the mansion, helpless and confused.

You felt like a horrible dagger pierced your heart. Without wanting to, you had pushed her away from you, you had made a mistake you didn't know about, you had done something that had upset her, you were sure.

You shook your head, trying with all your might to remember, to know the reason for that changeable attitude. You couldn't, you had to go home.

After that day, the relationship with the lady in black cooled, looking more and more like snow, like an ephemeral blizzard that disappeared cutting through your body. She no longer looked at you, you had lost her, and you still didn't know why. Damn alcohol.

“Donna,” you said after a week, when the lady in black came back from one of those tedious meetings. She didn't look at you, she didn't say anything, she went into her house and left you outside. She ignored you terribly, as she had been doing for several days. “Oh, come on, at least tell me what I've done…”

Nothing, there was never an answer. Your pleas, your pathetic attempts to get her to listen to you didn't matter. Your life soon became a hell, a hell without her voice, without her smile, eternally condemned to see her face covered by that horrible veil.

The love you felt for her continued to dominate your rationality, it kept pushing you to keep trying, but a part of you began to give up.

It didn't matter how close you could be, that would never happen, she would never love you and you had to start to accept it. With the horrible passage of time, you made a decision, the saddest of your life.

“Donna, I have to talk to you,” you said, knocking softly on the door.

“We don't want to talk to you, stupid!” Angie shouted behind the door.

“Fine, whatever you want,” you said furiously, kicking the ground and throwing the pruning shears angrily. “Don't expect me to come back tomorrow, do you hear me? I resign!”

You didn't want to do it, you didn't want to, but you had to. The love you felt for Donna was going to end you, you would lose yourself forever, you wouldn't be able to forget her if you didn't get away in time.

Crying, you walked away from the mansion, interrupted by the creaking of the door, which slowly opened. A black figure peeked through it.

“What?” you asked unpleasantly, turning around and crossing your arms. “Now you want to talk? Well, I don't want to.”

“How can you be like that?!” the lady shrieked, enraged, shielding her sobs behind the black cloth. “Do you think you can play with me?!”

“What?” you asked, shaking your head, with a mocking tone, approaching the estate again. “Sorry, but if I'm not mistaken, you're the one who keeps ignoring me.”

“You do nothing but hurt me, (Y/N)…” she sighed, nervous, approaching you dangerously.

“Hurt you?” you asked confused, with a furious gasp. “What's wrong with you?”

“Do you find it funny, (Y/N)? Is it that you have a hobby of breaking people's hearts, do you enjoy playing with their feelings?” she accused you, putting a finger on your chest, one that you pushed away with a sharp slap.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Donna…” you whispered, ignoring the danger signs.

“Right, you never have any idea about anything, do you?” she mocked, with a cocky pose. “You always forget everything, don't you?”

“What?”

“Forget it, will you? It's what you do best,” she sighed, turning around.

You, fed up with this maddening situation, grabbed her wrist, pulling it.

“Lasciami!” she protested, breaking free from your grip.

“What have I done to you, Donna?” you wanted to know, with a different tone. “I, I don't know what…”

“Deceive me!” she screamed furiously. “First you tell me that you love me, that you're in love with me, you kiss me and…. And then… You, you abandon me, you tell me that you don't remember anything… You broke my heart!”

Then, you suspected what had happened. Your face turned red with embarrassment. It had to be that night, the alcohol made you confess, made you tell her how much you loved her and… Apparently… She felt the same way, something you couldn't help but smile at.

“Do you find it funny?” she mocked, with a dangerous hiss. “Cazzo… I'll kill you!”

“Donna, did I really tell you that?” you asked calmer, ignoring her lack of control. “Did I really tell you that I loved you?”

“Huh? Y-Yes…” she said, confused by your reaction. “Lie, after lie.”

You acted instinctively, removing that horrible veil from her face, capturing her lips gently, reaffirming that your mistake was not such, that you felt what you said, that you wanted to feel it.

“Now I remember,” you said smiling, grabbing her trembling body. “I wasn't lying, Donna…”

“(Y/N), why?” she asked, grabbing your waist, crying because of your behavior, confused. “I love you, I love you…” you whispered in her ear. “I've loved you for a long time and… Well, I guess I have to thank the wine for having found enough courage to tell you

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #oneshot #re8 donna #re8 village #requests

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