#quin poll

[quinloki]

CYOA - Sir Crocodile - DARK

Reader/Sir Crocodile (w/guests!)

Summary: Sir Crocodile, a warlord feared by many, and loved by more, has a woman he loves. One he moves mountains for, dressing her in finery and ensuring only the finest foods press against her tongue.

But you were not that woman.

CW: Reader Objectified, degradation, non con, pain play, forced orgasms, shared with others, vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex, bondage, dark themes, abuse, fear, Reader Death is Possible, 18+ minors dni

-:- Part 2 -:- Part 3

Part 1: The Island's Edge

Sir Crocodile, a warlord feared by many, and loved by more, has a woman he loves. One he moves mountains for, dressing her in finery and ensuring only the finest foods press against her tongue. No one except for him sees any vulnerable side of her, and none have heard her crying in pleasure for her lover, though no one doubts she does so whenever she wishes to give herself to him.

Some have even speculated that his plans to overthrow Alabasta are because of her desire to be queen.

But you were not that woman.

You were a toy. A thing. An object. The great master’s little pet, with whom he did all he would never dare do to his lady love.

In some ways you were almost as important to him as she was. No one could take what he gave as well as you. Your body, small by comparison, could handle all the needs he forced upon you, without tearing and without breaking. 

Over the months you had even become reliant on the pain to orgasm, and by his own words you orgasmed even better than his beloved. Squeezing and shuddering with such tenacity that he often wondered if your cunt wouldn’t one day bruise his cock.

And the way he would punish you for such insolence.

You were fed well. You were tended to, and cared for, between the times the master came to claim you. In some ways it was difficult to complain about your situation, but wanted nothing to do with it, preferring to be back on the streets where he had found you. Better free and desperate, than imprisoned and terrified that the next time he comes will be the time he pushes you beyond what you can handle.

You are, after all, his longest running pet so far. So when the opportunity to flee presented itself, you took it.

The master had arrived, but he hadn’t yet had time to lay claim to you. You were as healed, as healthy, and as capable as you were ever going to be. There was company joining him, part of the reason for his delay in seeing you, and perhaps even part of the reason that you were left unattended. The usual spare eyes left to see to you, needing to go attend to the demanding and important guest he had with him.

You didn’t know where this island was, or what it was even called. All you knew was that he had a devil fruit, and if you could make it to the water, you could swim. And if you swam until you died, you’d be free, and if you swam until you were lucky you might end up somewhere better.

So you ran, in a straight line from the manor, knowing full well on this forested island, that a straight line would serve you just as well as any other. You needed only to reach the end of the island, and the only risk you weren’t willing to take was using the main road.

Even if it might have been faster, it would be more easily traveled by your pursuers as well.

So through the trees you ran. The callouses on the soles of your feet were enough, and even if every step hurt, you wouldn’t have let it slow you down. You moved as quickly as you dared, but also with enough care to avoid injuring yourself.

It would do you no good to take a tumble before you got off the island. It would be a poor turn of events to break your first bone by your own clumsy misstep. Especially if you survived it, Sir Crocodile might decide you could survive such violence again and again.

You don’t know how long you ran, time was immeasurable as you made your way through what was starting to feel like endless woods. You only know that your time with him had made you stronger, and that was keeping your legs moving and your lungs working, and you might have to float in the ocean for a while to regain your strength, but you’d make it.

You would. You’d reach the island’s end and survive your entry into the ocean. What happened after that was for fate to decide, but you would make it. You would escape.

As you stood at the edge of the cliff, however, you wondered.

The cliff was far higher than you had expected. You’d had no sense of running uphill or down hill, but it was an uncomfortably high drop from where you were to the water. 

With no sounds of pursuit, you decide to see if you could find a path, but once you turn to look around better you see him.

Sir Crocodile was standing just a few feet behind you, completely unconcerned by the tree line. You knew he was powerful, knew he had a devil fruit even if you’d never seen it in action.

Now you knew he could pursue you without so much as the rustle of a single leaf.

Your options were limited, you didn’t have time to over think it:

Do You--

Leap into the water, risk be damned.

Stand your ground and apologize for running away.

Grovel, prostrating your self on the ground and begging for forgiveness.

Sink to your knees, dissociating in your despair.

Voting ended onApr 28

tagging: @nocturnalrorobin @verdantwyrmcat @alwayssassydreamer @fleetadmiralsoffice @anon-germany @hakiofdreams @thecrimsonacademic

[quinloki]

I’m curious

Why is your fave, your fave?

Their voice?

Their design?

A canon event?

A fanon event?

Did a piece of fic or art make you a fan over the OG material?

Their canon backstory?

Their lack of canon backstory?

The Vibes

You have a type >.>

You don’t know why, you just know they’re your fave ^_^

I didn’t chose them, they latched on like a curse

Other

Voting ended onMar 24, 2025

Explain in the tags no matter what you vote for if you want to ^_^

[quinloki]

CYOA - Sir Crocodile - DARK

Reader/Sir Crocodile (w/guests!)

Summary: Sir Crocodile, a warlord feared by many, and loved by more, has a woman he loves. One he moves mountains for, dressing her in finery and ensuring only the finest foods press against her tongue.

But you were not that woman.

CW: Reader Objectified, degradation, non con, pain play, forced orgasms, shared with others, vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex, bondage, dark themes, abuse, fear, Reader Death is Possible, 18+ minors dni

Poll at the end -:- Part 1 -:- Part 3

Part 2: By the Throat

You leap from the cliff side in a desperate bid to reach the water--

but you’re halted mid leap.

Not by sand.

By strings.

“Fu fu fu,” comes a dark sound that rolls cold down your spine. You can’t see who it is, but considering your master isn’t saying anything, it’s someone he knows. “I thought you said your pet was well-trained.”

The strings aren’t kind, you can feel the thin threads biting into your skin, even though you can’t move against them. Not even your fingers twitch, and an odd tension in your ears of all places keeps you from trying to turn your head.

“It is,” Crocodile answers, and you swear you can feel the harsh grit of sand against your skin. “I simply hadn’t realized how spirited it is.”

The wind whips up around you, the sand rough against your skin as the paltry smock you were wearing is ripped into pieces. The bits of fabric flutter down uselessly toward the sea, the turbulent current below forcing the air up and fluttering the pieces around like small birds caught in a hurricane.

“Maybe we can correct that now.” 

The tone of his voice sinks into your stomach and for a brief moment you wonder if your desperation for freedom won’t result in your death. 

Sand swirls around you, acting more like water than sand. With the help of the strings your legs are forced wide, knees bent so your feet are pointing skyward. You’re tilted downward a little, arms pulled behind your back, tilted skyward until your shoulders ache from the stretch.

Thick sand coils around the base of your breasts, squeezing them until the tightness makes you whine. Something forces your mouth open, and since you can’t see it, you imagine it must be the strings. Sand rolls against your tongue, and you feel the shift as all the gritty sand solidifies into glass, locking you in place.

“The glass against your tongue is quite fragile, pet.” Crocodile explains, his thick finger already pushing deep into your cunt. “If you grit your teeth and break it, the entire sculpture will shatter. Except for the parts around your arms.”

The calloused hand of your master rubs your mound, smearing your slick against the skin. “You can escape this if you’re that desperate to die, otherwise, you would do well to survive this ordeal without breaking that fragile ball against your tongue.”

The first smack was against your pussy, fast and sharp, stinging the skin and sending a jolt into your clit. The strange sound that escapes you is because you’re trying to keep your mouth open, and the next two strikes were against your ass cheeks. Then the insides of your thighs, there wasn’t a break between each heavy smack, his hand moving from one target to the next, moving between the five spots randomly.

Each strike stung. Each strike sent a heavy throbbing jolt into your body, one that became harsh quickly against your sensitive clit. You couldn’t move to try and mitigate the pain, and you couldn’t grit your teeth against it.

You wanted freedom, more than anything, and if you died you wanted it to be while you were free.

By the time he stopped you were sobbing, and drooling, your body shivering within the harsh rig. You couldn’t beg him to stop when it had become too much, you could only endure the assault. The heat of the strikes burned your swollen skin. The sting from the damage was like someone actively poking your flesh with pins. If you make it to tomorrow you’ll be bruised.

You weren’t even sure if you weren’t bleeding, it was hard to tell between sweat and slick, what was actually dripping from your skin.

“Well, you didn’t bite down to end it all.” Crocodile muses, and you feel the thin bauble against your tongue shift. Sand presses against your teeth, forcing your jaw as wide as it can go without dislocating it. The gritty substance smooths again, cradling your tongue and pushing down your throat almost to the point of gagging you.

Instead the glass stops right as the depth becomes uncomfortable. 

Your perspective moves away from the craggy ocean below, and you’re turned back toward land. Your arms are folded onto the small of your back, relieving the screaming ache in your shoulders. It’s a small relief, as your head is pulled back and your forced open mouth is lined up with a cock that does not belong to your master. 

Crocodile’s guest pushes his thick cock down your throat with ease. The beast is longer than your master, and maybe thicker too, but you can’t worry about that. You can’t breathe. He’s buried himself to the point your nose is buried in his pubic hair.

It burns, the thing crammed farther down your throat than you’d become accustomed too. Gagging and shuddering, you’re completely helpless as he holds you there until you’re certain you’re going to die. When he pulls out you’re dizzy, gasping and hacking, desperate to breathe and clear your throat from your own snot and drool.

Once you finally catch your breath he’s back down your throat again, keeping you there until you can barely take another second before pulling you off his length. This time he leaves his tip against your lips, groaning as you struggle to catch your breath again. 

When he pushes in the third time, he presses your raw ass and thighs against a tree. The rough, gnarled bark bites into your sore skin and you scream against his cock until you can’t do anything but gag again. He keeps you there, pulling out much sooner than before, only to push back in, lazily fucking your face while he drives you into the cruel bark. 

The pattern repeats, your Master’s guest presses you against three different trees before he finally empties his balls down your throat. He’s so big, and you’re so small, it feels like he’s just pumping directly into your stomach. Not that you can do anything but take what Crocodile gives you, but this man pushes your limits.

If you had come into his possession instead of Crocodile’s, you aren’t sure you would’ve been able to survive him. It took Crocodile a few weeks to break your body to the point that you could take him, but you had the sense this guest was not so patient.

“Just like a good bitch, she relieved herself on the tree.” The guest says, before pushing his own finger into your cunt. “Or came so hard she squirt.”

“It can be difficult to tell with that one.” Your master says, and you’d agree, because you weren’t sure yourself. You’d been too focused on trying to breathe.

The glass moves away from you, letting your body drop a couple feet to the ground beneath you. There’s a pause, giving you a moment to realize you can move your limbs under your own power again. 

Crocodile’s shoe comes into your view, and you freeze.

“Lick it.” He commands, tapping his foot against the ground. “If you’re good I’ll let you crawl back to the manor.”

Do you...

Spit on his shoe.

Lick his shoe as commanded.

Apologize for running, and lick his shoe.

Voting ended onMay 6

tagging: @nocturnalrorobin @verdantwyrmcat @alwayssassydreamer @fleetadmiralsoffice @anon-germany @hakiofdreams @thecrimsonacademic

[quinloki]

Random Curiosity

What's your favorite flavor of soul mates in terms of How They Find Out They're Soul Mates?

Sure, you know, but how do you learn?

First Eye Contact - you see each other and know.

First Physical Contact - hands, lips, etc. That first touch is electric

Everyone has a mark and your soul mate causes yours to flare within proximity.

Shared canvas - if they get a tattoo so do you \o/ whether you've met yet or not

Red string you have to find the other end

A timer counts down to the moment you'll meet

You see them in your dreams

It takes work to know, but you have their manner of death as a mark on your body

There's a certain scent.

Once you hear them speak, you know.

Something else? Share it with me I'm curious!

Voting ended onFeb 13

... man, imagine living in a world where soul mates exist, and they know by sight or by sound, and you're deaf or blind. T-T That would fucking suck.

[quinloki]

CYOA - Sir Crocodile - DARK

Reader/Sir Crocodile (w/guests!)

Summary: Sir Crocodile, a warlord feared by many, and loved by more, has a woman he loves. One he moves mountains for, dressing her in finery and ensuring only the finest foods press against her tongue.

But you were not that woman.

CW: Reader Objectified, degradation, non con, pain play, forced orgasms, shared with others, vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex, bondage, dark themes, abuse, fear, Reader Death is Possible, 18+ minors dni

Poll at the end -:- Part 1 -:- Part 2

Chapter 3: Screwed

Crocodile promised you once, that he would never kill you. 

Anything he did to you would be something you’d survive.

Even now you weren’t entirely sure if the statement had been meant as a threat, or a comfort. You’d taken it as a comfort at first, when fear still gripped your heart. You’d held onto that promise desperately when your air supply was cut off and your lungs burned, when the stretch of your cunt and ass felt sure to simply rip your body in two.

But you never tested that promise either.

When you spit on his shoe, there’s a second of complete silence. The stillness makes you look up, but before you can even hope to see what expression is on Crocodile’s face, you’re on the flat of your back, the toe of his shoe pushing into your mouth. The sound of his guest’s laughter digs into your brain almost as much as the shoe.

Your hands snap to his foot, trying to hold back the weight of someone nearly twice your height. The muddy, grimy sole of his shoe presses against your tongue, the stitched leather barely touching the roof of your mouth as the narrow-toed style acts as a wedge. It was down the back of your throat before you could even begin to squirm, forcing you to gag and retch, the burn in your jaw making you worry he was going to dislocate your jaw.

Or just put his weight down your throat and kill you.

Before you think your jaw is going to give he pulls his foot out. You get a few precious seconds to cough and try to spit out the dirt in your mouth before sand wraps around your face, silencing your sounds.

“Death may be what you’ve come to desire.” Crocodile says, his tone even and calm as he lights a cigar, taking a drag before exhaling slowly. His sand has cut off your air while he does this, the grains covering your mouth and nose, and trapping your hands when you tried to scratch the sand away.

Your lungs are screaming for air while he takes another smoke of his cigar. You can hear your heart jackhammering in your chest, trying to feed the dwindling oxygen you have to your body. There’s nothing but boredom and disinterest on Crocodile’s face, and you can’t even attempt to beg or argue.

The edges of your vision start to go black before the sand moves away. Crumpling to the ground you struggle to catch your breath while the grip of death slips off your lungs. You can’t stop yourself from sobbing, shivering from the ordeal of the evening and the horrid rush of your near death experience.

“We’ll let fate decide, since you don’t seem entirely sure yourself.” He declares. 

You barely catch your breath before you’re wholly encased in sand. The tomb immobilizes you, coarse grains of sand scratching against your sensitive skin. It’s impossible to ignore. You cannot see, or hear anything else, and the lack of sensory input makes the feeling the sand shuffling against your skin impossible to ignore.

Panic wells up in you when it becomes harder to breathe, but just as you’re worried the air is going to be taken from you again a fresh change of air comes into your space. 

You’re not surprised that there’s something hard and smooth pushing into your ass while you’re being transported to who knows where. There’s no lube, but the object pushes into you slowly and carefully. It feels smaller than your finger, and once it pushes in deep enough it starts to expand.

The rate is so slow you don’t notice it at first, over the stinging sensation of the sand against your raw skin, and the frustrating sensation of it teasing your nipples, it was hard to focus.

By the time it’s done expanding you’re a little worried you’re going to just tear, but it was so slow and so steady you’re body kept adjusting to it. Crocodile had spent time before training your ass, but he took you that way.

The sand moves your body, and you feel it move away from your stomach. Your breasts dangle as cool leather presses against your stomach. More sand moves away and your wrists are strapped into something. 

The second the sand pulls away from your face a big bucket of ice cold water is splashed into it. The temperature and suddenness of the action makes you gasp, and a metal bit is forced into your mouth, forcing your mouth open wide. You hadn’t had anything like that in your mouth for weeks, not since you sucked your master’s cock of your own volition. 

Your ankles are strapped into place, and cold lube is worked into your ass by the hand of someone closer to your size than Crocodile’s or his guest’s. Daz grabs your head, and sprays soapy water into your mouth, the jet is harsh and he doesn’t let up for a solid minute, washing all the mud and grime away whether you wanted him to or not.

The harsh taste of soap stays on your tongue, and since you can’t close your mouth, you can’t even try to spit it out. 

The guest rubs his massive length against your slit a few times before he begins to ease into your ass. It’s gaping from the thing that was inside you while you were entombed in sand, and it’s dripping in lube. Even without all that, you had no way to stop him from doing as he pleased.

As Crocodile was letting him.

"Remember, I want you to experience how well she orgasms before the fates take her." Crocodile says, and it's a cold chill in your stomach since his guest is actually being gentle with you.

His size is terrifying, but you've had obscenely large toys forced into your ass before. You know you can take him. With the prep and the lube he manages to sink deeper and deeper without any pain. You don’t know what to do with that, you were certain they were simply going to fuck you to death and this is a strange situation to be in.

Your hair is wrapped up in sand, pulling your head up and holding you in place. Your master’s cock is a familiar weight and taste on your tongue, even mixed with the soap still lingering there. He barely presses in, rubbing his tip against your tongue.

There’s idle chatter between him and his guest, and you finally learn the man’s name. Not that it matters, you don’t know who Doflamingo is, or why these two are in business together.

A long finger teases your clit, it’s tender but not so sore as to hurt when he idly rolls the pad of his massive finger over it while he fucks your ass. Sand teases your nipples, and it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming against Doflamingo’s cock. 

“Ah, I—hngh—see why you’ve kept her.” His voice is strained, but you don’t feel him emptying into your guts. “She’s still going. That’s divine. Congratulations on finding such a rare toy.”

When you finally start to come back down, your body no longer twitching and throbbing against his length, Crocodile pushes into your mouth. It’s a lazy, slow pace, filling you down to your throat before pulling back until his tip is barely against your lips, forcing you to focus on breathing.

“Bring her to orgasm a second time, I’ll show you what really makes her shine.”

Doflamingo gives you a minute, before he resumes, teasing your clit again from the start. The bastard knows what he’s doing. He’s not pushing all the way in, instead he’s bullying a place inside you that is sending a jolt through you almost constantly.

Between that, and the way they’re teasing your clit and breasts, you don’t last long before you’re cumming again.

Crocodile pushes down into your throat, and then stubs his cigar into your back.

The pain makes you scream against his cock, and causes your entire body to tense and thrash even more than it had been in the midst of your orgasm. Your master cums down your throat, giving you no reprieve until he’s done. As much as it hurts it makes you feel everything more and it doesn’t disrupt your own orgasm. It’s a special hell that Crocodile had trained you to endure from the moment he’d captured you.

“Fuck,” Doflamingo husks, hands gripping your raw ass as he cums inside you. He snaps his hips against you a few times, grunting as his cock throbs deep in your ass. It’s a few minutes before he’s satisfied completely and pulls out of you.

Cum and lube trickle out of your gaping ass, and you scream when he spanks your sore ass, grateful only that Crocodile was no longer hilted down your throat.

You have no more fight in you when they release you long enough to put you on your back. Doflamingo has you practically folded in half beneath him, your knees pressed against your shoulders. His cock, recovered and twitching, is sitting on your torso.

The tip is nearly between your breasts and you can’t believe you had something that big up your ass. Crocodile wasn’t small, and you wouldn’t dare to use that word to describe him, but Doflamingo was bigger enough that you had concerns.

Concerns Crocodile could see written clearly on your face.

"He'll either fit, or rupture something." Crocodile says, exhaling smoke and giving you a wholly disinterested look. “But it’ll be for fate to decide. No prep, be sure to hilt in the first thrust.” 

“Of course,” Doflamingo says, lining the head of his cock with your practically untouched pussy.

Flip a coin

Heads

Tails

Voting ended onMay 16

Both results will be posted when the poll is done, and you'll know whether you survived or not.

Good luck ❤️

tagging: @nocturnalrorobin @verdantwyrmcat @alwayssassydreamer @fleetadmiralsoffice @anon-germany @hakiofdreams @thecrimsonacademic

[quinloki]

CYOA - Sir Crocodile - DARK

Reader/Sir Crocodile (w/guests!)

Summary: Sir Crocodile, a warlord feared by many, and loved by more, has a woman he loves. One he moves mountains for, dressing her in finery and ensuring only the finest foods press against her tongue.

But you were not that woman.

CW: Reader Objectified, degradation, non con, pain play, forced orgasms, shared with others, vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex, bondage, dark themes, abuse, fear, 18+ minors dni

-:- Part 1 -:- Part 2 -:- Part 3

ENDING: TAILS

This Ending is if you voted for Tails in the coin flip on Part 3

Doflamingo grips your thighs, pushing you down even more before he snaps his hips ruthlessly into you. The heavy thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, but that’s the least of your worries.

It hurts so bad. The pain is sharp, iron hot inside your cunt. He’s ripped something, you’re sure of it, the white-hot pain makes you scream and thrash despite being pinned down. Sand cuffs your wrists to your ankles, and all you can do is sob as Doflamingo sets a heavy, uncaring pace. The only small comfort available to you is that the pain is less of a sharp horror, and more of a dull ache as he continues.

It doesn’t feel good by any stretch of the word, but some part of you knows you’re going to survive this. The fates have not seen fit to rescue you from your captivity at any point today, but it also meant that Crocodile himself wasn’t going to kill you.

The fates had spoken.

Every day you’re alive is another opportunity to escape. You hope.

Doflamingo finishes inside you, something Crocodile never did. The sensation of his spend inside you is a mix of revolting, and something else that makes you feel ashamed. Your body involuntarily tightens, some subconscious part of your mind turned on by being filled for once. Since you were just a toy, it was never your place to carry one of the master’s offspring, but the new sensation is uncomfortably pleasant.

“It seems she was meant to survive.” Doflamingo muses, a laugh rolling around his words.

“Indeed.” The familiar scent of his cigar is the only thing you can really focus on. 

You’re beyond exhausted. You had run full sprint for far longer than you could actually manage earlier. The return back to the manor was harsh, and even when you were entombed in sand you still weren’t able to rest. Orgasming twice before the fear of uncertain death loomed over you was more than you could take.

“Clean it up,” he commands, as Daz comes over and collects you. “Use one of the tears, it’ll repair the damage, and we’ll start from the beginning.”

You aren’t sure what he means by that, and even if you wanted to ask, you had nothing left, effectively passing out in Daz’s arms.

When you finally come back around you’re clean. There’s no stinging pain or dull throb anywhere in your body, your head is clear and you feel better than you’ve felt in ages. The only discomfort you feel is the simple fact that you’re being bound, and Daz is covering your eyes almost as soon as you open them.

Metal between your teeth has your mouth forced open, and taut fabric against your skin has you held tightly to yourself. It’s a bit like a mummy, the tension of the wrap keeping you from being able to do much except wriggle.

You can feel cold air against your breasts, and ass, but you aren’t surprised at this point. Crocodile rarely allowed you even the simple dress you had been wearing when you made a break for it earlier. It was going to be weeks before you were allowed to wear anything that wasn’t a binding of some sort, you were certain.

The most discomforting thing was how good you felt. As though every injury you had ever endured was soothed.

Daz sets you down after you’re secured in your body wrap, and you realize quickly that you’re draped over Crocodile’s lap. It was a place and position you spent a lot of time in, since Crocodile had taken personal care to spend most of his working day slowly working things into your holes to stretch you enough for his cock.

“The chiyu chiyu no mi’s healing properties mean you’ll need to be retrained.” It’s Crocodile’s voice, but it’s someone else’s cock pushing into your mouth, and someone else’s fingers spreading your ass. “But we also have some left, so we might rush this first round, pet.”

Your stomach knots as cold lube hits the tight ring of muscle a split second before Crocodile forces two fingers into your ass. The intense stretch burns, making you scream even as the thick cock forces its way deep down your throat. 

But at least you’ll survive.

Whether you wanted to or not.

tagging: @nocturnalrorobin @verdantwyrmcat @alwayssassydreamer @fleetadmiralsoffice @anon-germany @hakiofdreams @thecrimsonacademic

[quinloki]

CYOA poll

Alright, screw this whole bad back shit, I’m going to focus my anger at being in pain into a Dark DARK CYOA fic and if the gods are good it’ll have a surprise later on.

Step one, it’s gonna be Dark and Intense and death is POSSIBLE.

But who will be the “villain” in this sexy horror short CYOA?

-:- Options listed will be in order of least likely to end in death to MOST likely to end in death. Vote well -:-

The villain will be….

Marco

Sir Crocodile

Eustass Kid

Doflamingo

Sabo

Voting ended onApr 23

[quinloki]

I’ll be honest idk that I’ll write this

But

The idea has been kicking around in my head for a bit about a reader who starts out in a relationship with X Blorbo and ends up in a relationship with Y Blorbo.

And like, there’s a dozen different ways to do that, for sure, but what comes to mind for me is a really dark story.

Starts out reader/Doflamingo, in a real toxic and abusive relationship. Either engaged or married. And ends up with the reader being saved by the other Blorbo.

I just can’t sort out who’d be the most fun other Blorbo to roll with.

Well?

Sabo - Modern AU, Sabo’s old money against Doffy’s criminal money

Law - modern AU, defects from Doffy’s family, runs away together

Shanks - modern AU - crime boss v crime boss

Marco - alt canon or modern - family v family

Rosinante - modern AU/Royal AU - younger bro usurps elder.

Crocodile - Monster/modern AU - yan v yan reader kidnapped like a ping pong ball

Katakuri - modern AU - family v family but really unhinged.

Thatch - Mafia AU, Thatch has the dark fruit, surprise 1v1

Kid - monster or modern AU - utter fucking chaos. So much fighting.

Sabo Oliver Twist style - ASL v Doffy modern gang/mafia vibes + DFs

Blorbo Y irrelevant - Doffy wins and keeps his broken bird to himself

Voting ended onSep 10, 2025