#ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᶤᶰ ᵃʳᵐˢ ;; verse.

[conquiistador]

His hands were trembling. They hadn't stopped shaking since he lifted the gun. Lifted it and pointed it towards his own blood. The sadness he felt was one he knew he would never experience again. This was HEARTBREAK. They thought he was heartless, but he was not. He had a heart. It wasn't missing. It still wasn't missing. Now it was just gone. Buried in the snow somewhere on the winter island Doflamingo would never return to. He hadn't even watched life escape his brother's body. Hadn't watched his eyes close or his chest stop rising. He wondered how long he'd kept breathing with his injuries. How painful it had been to have his lungs fill with blood. How red the snow had gotten. If his lips were blue now. If his skin took on the same colour as the snow. White. Dead.

Doflamingo flexed his fingers, as if to command them to stop shaking. His pulse was rapid. It wasn't adrenaline. It was anxiety. His brother's death wasn't what hurt him the most. That part was the natural result of the other's action. What hurt him was the betrayal. A betrayal Doflamingo had REFUSED to see coming. He'd suspected it all along. Known that there was a good chance Rocinante was giving information to the marines. But he'd --- He'd been so happy to have him by his side again. He'd been willing to put his crew's safety - and his own safety - at risk just to have him there.

When Rocinante returned, that had been the first time Doflamingo had imagined someone standing beside him. The ONE PERSON he would spare. He wanted to kill everyone. Everyone. But not him. He had NEVER wanted to kill him. So why ---

He clenched his fist. Clenched his jaw.

WHY had Rocinante made him kill him? It was the ultimate hurt. Nothing Doflamingo had gone through in his life had been more painful. That's what happened when you had your heart ripped from your chest. He was never.

Ever.

Going to love anyone again.

That too was something he almost - almost mourned.

[wiltedcorazonrp]

Previous

These days not many could have the pleasure of beholding the owner of the Heart Seat; or more accurately, no one but Doflamingo could. Corazon had always been very silent and secretive, as expected from the elite officer of the Informant House, an excellent spy himself. But, being one of Doflamingo’s elite executives meant having a great public reputation, being the representative of the family, and, as the King’s right hand and last remaining blood, Corazon should have had a more frequent presence. (Besides, Rocinante had nothing to hide now, he had already betrayed the original reason for his supposal betrayal long ago). 

To be fair, upholding a public image had never crossed Roci’s mind, ever, and certainly not now. Trebol was the only one who had a problem with his lack of presence, so he would continue doing so just to spite the other.

Roci would keep telling himself that to make an excuse for Corazon’s silence. He still had things to hide from the family.

 Copies of all the information he had on the family’s plans now, but with no plan of sending or where to send them.

A muted den den mushi with contact to the fleet admiral

His 14 years with the marine.

Still, the same old things he had to hide when he went undercover, only this time, everything was meaningless.

Just like him.

So when there was no mission came directly from the king himself, no task to do, Corazon would quietly wander to the outskirt of Dressrosa, chain-smoking and let his existence melt away.

Rather than making a public reputation like how the owner of the Heart seat should, fuck that.

Today was one of those idle days, but the past seemed to be just a bit too persistent. Or more precisely, Tsuru was.

While it took Sengoku exactly 52 missed calls and one kingdom to get the message that his adopted son betrayed him; apparently, it would take more to convince Tsuru to give up on said miserable child. She figured out calling was pointless so she forced him to receive her messages by sending them with the News Coo. Roci never understood how they succeed in finding him time after time, how they were so hell-bent on making him reading the damn letters. This time it drove him off the cliff, watched he landed on the sand after rolling a good while on hard rocks. Upon confirming that he (unluckily) was still alive, it proceeded to peck him again and again until he took the letter; then left Rocinante laid on the sand, physically and mentally numb, just stared at Tsuru’s neat handwriting without really reading anything. He already knew how heart-broken Sengoku was, how welcome the marine would be if he continues giving more intel, how there was still a chance of bringing Doflamingo to justice and there was still hope… That wasn’t what she wrote in this one, however. The government was considering offering Doflamingo the position of Shichibukai in fear of his growing influence – Roci saw that coming the day they took over Dressrosa, still he hoped for the impossible, and again, look at the result.

Roci didn’t remember how long he had been on the beach, but he ran out of cigarettes at one point, maybe burnt them as well as his cloak but he could not care less. The journey back was uneventful, he hid from everyone instinctively, retreated to his private wing of the castle like a shadow. He was so tired, but sleep didn’t come to him very often these days. Corazon took a pack, then two, then five, and headed to the watch-tower. There was something about being alone with an open space that calmed him, even just a little. It gave off an illusion of freedom, of hope…or something, anything… Roci needed to smoke quite badly now.

“Corazon.” Came the only voice he had heard in these past few months. Doflamingo stood at the doorway of the observation room, eyes unreadable as ever, but the lack of smiling was more than enough of an indication. His brother was seriously pissed. Rocinante did a panic once-over for possibilities and came up with nothing while Corazon kept an indifferent look and put the cigarette in his mouth, finally. Then it hit him, the same time as Doflamingo’s voice did.

“Who did this to you?” “This” must be referred to his bleeding mouth and/or several bruises hidden under his clothes; less likely to be the latter, as not much of his body was left uncovered. Roci felt the ache, at last. It was a fairly tall cliff, he should be amazed that he didn’t have a concussion or broke any more bones. But there was no time for miracles, Roci could felt the weight of the other’s gaze on him. The situation itself was laughably mundane, but one wrong move could be extremely fatal; Doffy did burn down an entire village for one bump on the road that one time; it’s hard to predict what punishment he would bring in this state. Even though it was just a desolate beach, it was Roci’s favorite place on the island. And he News Coos could only found him safely there.

Corazon gave a sheepish smile, gaze lowered as if he was shy. “Fell down while taking a walk”, he signed, movements were a bit jerkier than usual. “I’m good, just need a smoke”, he put his hand in his pocket and stood still for a bit. Instead of the lighter, Corazon pulled out the pack of cigarettes and extended it toward Doffy.

“Beautiful sunset up here. Join me?”

Next

@conquiistador

[conquiistador]

‘of course, i do love you. isn't that how you've made me?’

BLOODBORNE ,, sentence starters. ( accepting )

He wished he could HEAR those words, and not just read them. Greedily, he read the note again. And again. But he wanted to hear the words SPOKEN. He wondered what his brother's voice sounded like. He hadn't heard it since he heard him cry when they were children. He didn't actually think Rocinante had been in an accident had had rendered him physically unable to speak. No, he was certain that it was mental. That he just didn't want to speak. That hurt. It hurt knowing his brother wouldn't talk to him, but he let him take his time. No matter how long it took, he'd wait. For him, he would be patient.

He folded the note, deciding to keep it. Sentimentality. It was unbecoming of him. A side he really didn't have. Right? It had been burnt off him and he'd shed that skin like a phoenix in rebirth.

❝ What do you want me to say to that? ❞ He asked, calmly as he turned around to face him again. ❝ That I gave you the title of Corazon simply because you are my brother? ❞ Surely, Rocinante already knew that. When it came to strength, Vergo was FAR stronger, and deserved the title more. But Vergo could never compete with Doflamingo's flesh and blood. The confrontation he'd had with Vergo about this topic before the other left... It had not been pretty. Vergo was loyal to him regardless. Even when he thought Doflamingo was wrong, he would support him. A true friend. Doflamingo valued him, it was just that --- He would kill him. Kill everyone in the family. To keep his brother safe.

[conquiistador]

' would you ever think to love me? ' ( from roci mayhaps ,, )

BLOODBORNE ,, sentence starters. ( accepting )

I COULD ONLY EVER LOVE YOU.

The words STUCK in his mouth. Tasting a little like poison. Perhaps they were. The ability to love was something Doflamingo had left behind in his childhood heart. He had ascended beyond such deep emotions. To be devoted to someone to the point of self-destruction was no longer within him. But he carried with him the love he had had for his brother - the love he would always have. Like the single flower growing in a barren land. It had sprouted while there was still water to be found. Nothing - NOTHING could tear its roots up. Doflamingo would love him until the end of time.

He had proven it when he had killed their father. With hopes that he could bring himself and his brother back to heaven, he had severed their father's head. He had done that for Rocinante, most of all. Like he would give his brother the food meant for his own mouth, he would sacrifice pieces of himself for him. That was what it was to LOVE someone.

❝ Why do you think I don't love you, brother? ❞ He countered the question with one of his own.

[conquiistador]

[ bloody ] sender arrives at receiver's doorstep bleeding and injured 8)

YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON I CAN TURN TO ; PROMPTS . ( accepting! ) .

RED . The most stunning colour. Blood. An accessory more vivid than pearls. Than gems. Than gold. It contrasted nicely to pale skin, and yet, the sight before him was not beautiful.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Enough blood for it to escape onto the floor. Mixing with dirt that someone had dragged in prior. A deep furrow appeared between his brows, mouth slightly open in surprise. Then his fingers flexed. Deadly. He would kill for this.

Rocinante's blood was the same as his own. It was his blood. Dripping onto the ground. Doflamingo felt it as painfully as if he was the one bleeding. Bleeding out. He stood up, the chair he'd been sitting in creaking harshly against the floor, creating scrape marks. Claws as if he needed to prove his anger.

❝ Who did this to you? ❞ He asked. Demanded a reply as he stepped over to meet his brother. Hands reached out. Deadly. But not to harm him. No, never him. The palms placed against the other's chest added firm pressure. Who dared to this to you? Where are they? I will kill them. The fabric of his shirt was soaked crimson. Staining Doflamingo's fingers now. The contrast not as sharp against his tanner skintone. The blood was sticky. He pressed his palms into the wet shirt like he could soak it up and inhale it through skin. Put it back into his own veins.

Who did this to you?

[conquiistador]

lanky  limbs  stretched  out  as  rosinante  walked  down  the  hall  towards  the  eruption  of  chaos.  it's  the  younger  the  brother's  second  time  since  returning  to  being  present  at  the  other's  birthday  celebrations.  and despite  being  a  group  of  estranged  criminals,  whenever  one  has  a  celebration,  the  whole  group  participates.  in  another  life,  it  would  make  corazón  smile  fondly  to  think  that  his  big  brother  hadn't  been  alone  all  these  years,  that  he  had  friends.  in  this  reality,  though,  rosinantes  expression  is  ever  flat,  rarely  changing  from  the  stoic  appearance  only  to  convey  anger.  the  morning  celebrations  haven't  gotten  too  far  without  him;  most  of  the  family  sits  around  a  large  dining  table,  scattered  with  various  foods.  at  the  head,  like  every  other  day,  sits  his  brother,  already  dressed  and  looking  ready  for  the  day,  unlike  corazón,  who  lets  a  loud  yawn  escape  his  mouth.  sitting  at  the  last  vacant  seat  closest  to  doflamingo,  he  holds  out  a  piece  of  paper  with  the  neatly  written  words'  ‘happy  birthday,  doffi'.  he  also  holds  a  small  gift  tucked  away  in  his  coat  pocket  but  intends  to  wait  until  the  room  isn't  as  crowded  to  present  it  to  his  brother.

[ and of course a happy birthday from rosinante ! ]

Mornings were always lively. The ability to plant excitement and ambition in others was something Doflamingo had always been good at. His crew met the day with vigour. Ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The high spirits never faltered, and, naturally - today of all days would be a day to rejoice. It was the anniversary of his birth, and something they never failed to celebrate. There would be an abundance of food and drinks, and Doflamingo's favorite dishes were the centrepiece of the table.

Doflamingo found it proper that his family SHOULD celebrate him. They all loved him more than anything. They had the opportunity to demonstrate their devotion to him all day every day. In that sense, his birthday wasn't any different to the rest of the year.

They shared the breakfast table. Diamante on Doflamingo's left side, and the chair on his right side empty for the time being. It was where Rocinante would sit, when he decided it was time to get out of bed. Doflamingo looked out onto the gathering of his family, feeling pleased to be surrounded by them. Not in a sentimental way, but in the same way you might appreciate a fleeting moment.

Doflamingo turned his attention to Rocinante, who was now joining them. He looked sleepy, a yawn stretching his jaw. Doflamingo wondered how his brother slept. If he too had nightmares. He hadn't asked him. Hadn't asked him much at all, even if the two of them had been reunited for two years now. The best two years of his life. He half expected his brother to slip and fall before managing to sit down, but no - he was showing surprising grace so early in the morning. One could never underestimate his clumsiness. A note was handed him, and Doflamingo took it. It said exactly what he'd expected. Happy birthday. He wondered what he'd give to hear his brother SAY that to him. The fact that words always travelled onto paper before reaching him was a barrier between them he despised. Still, he smiled, folding the note to keep it.

❝ Thank you, Corazón. ❞ Would his brother provide him with a gift as well? Doflamingo certainly expected him to. But he wasn't going to ask for it yet. / @sleeplesswork .

[conquiistador]

' i'm afraid i may not be of help for much longer ' - [ from Corazón !! ]

BLOODBORNE ,, sentence starters. ( accepting )

He heard the words I AM AFRAID, and thought, ah, how alike his brother. It was why Doflamingo truly had to protect him. That was exactly what he was going to do. Keep him from harm. Keep the world from ever hurting him again.

There was always the question lurking within him ; what did his brother think of him? How did he SEE him? Doflamingo had been a MONSTER even before they were reunited again. Even as a child, Doflamingo had been who he was today. Entering into adulthood had allowed him to become the divine being he was today. But he would not say he had changed. He had only ascended. Did his brother resent him? Fear him? Did he love him? These were thoughts that visited Doflamingo quite often.

What he most worried for was having Rocinante think of himself as expendable. To have his own brother think he would EVER cast him aside. He had not given Rocinante the Heart Seat because he thought he would aspire to that sort of usefulness. Rocinante didn't NEED to be useful. All he needed to do was be there. Be by his side. That was a gift greater than ANY of what his other officers could ever grant him.

To hear him CONFESS his fear of not being useful to him --- Was that not proof of TRUST? Doflamingo wanted to believe that. Wished it so badly that perhaps it even became true in his own mind. And so, he would answer -

❝ Don't worry, I will carry it all. ❞

[conquiistador]

     His voice had Rocinante turn in his direction. Doflamingo was never certain these days of what to CALL him. ‘ Corazon ‘ or ‘ Roci ‘. It seemed more fitting to call him by his title. Somehow that kept a certain distance between them, like strangers calling each other by their last names. It helped him separate business from what was personal. But, as Vergo had told him on several occasions - he was NOT doing a good job at it. Vergo accused him of having a soft spot for Rocinante. For ‘ giving him the benefit of the doubt ‘. Vergo wanted them to cross-examine him. Ask him a million questions about where he had been and why he returned. Doflamingo couldn’t for the life of him bring himself to put such pressure on his brother. It was silly, he knew that. He simply didn’t want to know the answers. The only thing that mattered - or, the only thing he wished mattered - was that his little brother was by his side again. No harm was ever going to come to him. Doflamingo was not sentimental by any means, but if he still had a heart, it was one that only existed for Rocinante. Just like when they were children, when Doflamingo had starved so that Rocinante could eat - he would put his own safety behind that of his brother. Hence why asking all those questions seemed less important to him. FAR less important than just keeping him.

     He looked upon his brother’s face, noticing the blood on his lips, his dirty face and a hint of a bruise on his cheekbone. It was instinct to ask who had done it. Whenever he saw his brother hurt ( even though it was almost always Rocinante’s own fault ), he felt anger surge through his veins. It was almost as if Rocinante getting hurt was the same thing as himself getting hurt. Like their skin were mirrors of each other. A moment passed, and it made Doflamingo certain that Rocinante was going to lie to him. A sheepish smile followed, before Rocinante signed his answer. Doflamingo had started learning sign-language right after Rocinante returned, and it became evident that he couldn’t speak. The other officers were supposed to learn it as well, but they weren’t taking it seriously, unlike Doflamingo. Communicating with his brother was important to him, though he would have loved to hear his voice.

     He could not pride himself on being ‘ fluent ‘ in sign-language yet, and Rocinante was making it especially hard with how jerky his movements were. A light frown settled between Doflamingo’s thin brows. Was he in too much pain to sign like he usually did, or was he LYING? Or, perhaps something was bothering him? Doflamingo had a natural talent for reading other people’s emotions. However, despite their connection, he couldn’t read his brother as well as he would’ve liked to. There was a wall between them, and he didn’t have the faintest idea on how to tear it down. He had the feeling that if he tried, Rocinante would rebuilt it straight away. His brother didn’t WANT them to be close, did he?

     ❝ You smoke too much. ❞ Came his reply. Light. Brushing off the subject and accepting Rocinante’s explanation, even though it might very well be a lie. He walked over to him now, and accepted the pack of cigarettes offered him. He didn’t smoke much, and this time around he was only doing it for the social aspect. As if sharing a cigarette from his brother’s pack would help them get closer. Hah. He was grasping at straws here. It was almost pitiful.  ❝ I’ll join you. ❞ It didn’t sit well with him. ANY of this. The frustration of not having his brother trust him was really getting to him. He picked out a cigarette from the pack, placed it between his lips and held out his hand to receive Rocinante’s lighter. He would rather NOT have his clumsy brother light him on fire.  ❝ Are you sure someone shouldn’t take a look at you? It looks like you took quite the fall. ❞ In the end, he wasn’t able to drop the subject. Possibly because the bruise on his face looked worse up-close. The blood on his lips fresher. He HATED the sight. / @wiltedcorazonrp​ / continued . 

[wiltedcorazonrp]

Previous

There was a time when Roci was honest. Honest in his words, in his emotions, in his actions,… His parents never taught him to lie. So Roci was honest. He had the whole world under his feet, then the whole world kicked him down; then, he inevitably had to stand up, this time without the family the world had taken away. Still, Roci tried to be honest; even when his new father taught him sometimes it’s better to lie. On the other hand, Corazon never tells the truth. Well obviously, Corazon couldn’t say a word, but all the same, he wore a cloak of lies for the world to see. Rocinante wanted to bring his brother’s crime to light; Corazon made sure the family’s plans stay in the dark. Rocinante freed those who got caught in his brother’s web; Corazon drained the lives of the family helpless preys. A marine who followed justice, a pirate who ran with the devil; two conflicted identities worked in tandem toward a common goal. For Roci to tell the truth, Corazon must lie. What he did not expect was that the world itself wasn’t very honest. Rocinante, with what little power he had in this real world and how much his adopted father had, had managed to arrange an escape for the miserable siblings: Doffy couldn’t avoid the judgment and punishment but Roci could make sure of his freedom after everything is said and done; they would run away, this time Roci won’t let anyone disturb their peace so Doffy won’t have any reason to hurt anyone anymore. He found a place far far away, no marine nor pirate would look at, a nice house that would suit his brother’s taste; somewhere peaceful to be their home… Their cage they could spend the rest of their life, tied together, wither away quietly. With how things were going, to Roci that was the best reward and punishment, the best ending. Corazon kept lying for Rocinante to bring out the truth. It worked out well enough. Roci knew the other executives were suspicious of him but Corazon stayed adored by their king(hopefully); why wouldn’t he, he was Doffy last related blood, an efficient subordinate, a quiet and harmless shadow. Corazon made an almost perfect front for Rocinante to gather all that was needed to make sure of their happy ending. Admiral Tsuru and whoever available at the time would have little to no trouble intervening and stopping the family right before their Dressrosa plan could so much be a scribble on paper. Roci had come so close to the best ending. Only to realize he never had such a chance in the first place. Sengoku in Roci’s eyes was very powerful, and rightfully so. But in the end, as an admiral, he could only do so much. Rocinante knew, he knew that very well, he was a marine himself, he saw the real world, he knew. Had Sengoku told Roci the real plan the government had for Dofflamingo, in the beginning, he would have accepted it better, he surely would. But it had been years, years passed by and most of those Roci spent existing as a lie; when he could be truthful he was torn between his justice and the ghost of his beloved brother in every endearing touch from the demon; years worn Roci down with blood and lies; years of his only light was the hope to end it all his way. Now and then he thought of it again and wondered if he made the right choice. He was so angry and desperate, at his savior, no less. He felt like a child again, so small, helpless, clinging to the image of his brother – all the comfort he had left. Perhaps in another universe, Rocinante would have been less delusional and saw Doflamingo as how he truly was, like how the rest of the world did, like how Sengoku did; Rocinante would have sent all the files and saved lives, finished the mission he was sent to fulfill. But in this timeline, little Roci clung onto the ghost of his past, the mirage of an impossible future; and forsook the present. What a tragic family, the mother gave in to illness, a murdered father, the older lost and the younger never found, like the ashes of officer Rocinante’s burnt-away plan. Another family lost and a lot of citizens fell victim to his selfishness. Rocinante wept the day Dressrosa was up in flame, but Corazon only smiled and greet their new kingdom.

Next

@conquiistador

[conquiistador]

Performing ‘Business Trips’ away from the Family were a frank reality for the executives. It was not an often occurrence, most jobs were a Family Affair after all, but at times the annoyance was not /worthy/ of Doflamingos personal appearance. Corazon was embarrassed by being delay in travel arriving at the anchored ship the night after his brothers birth slipping silently to the captains room. Ear to the door he listens. After a minute he bites his cigarette and spells a dome of silence to it

     His birthday was always special. Of course it was - it should reflect his importance. Diamante and Trebol would always throw him the biggest party, and give him whatever he had on his wish-list. Still, he had never seen himself as ‘ spoiled ‘. Being treated this way was nothing more than what he deserved. He was divine. He should be worshiped. Each year that passed, he gained more power and more followers, and thus - the size of his celebration grew. Yet, no matter how grand it would get, Doflamingo never would’ve felt excited about it. There were few things that could actually strike that chord in him. This year though, this year really was SPECIAL on a whole different level.

     This would be the first year since Rocinante disappeared that he would get to celebrate his birthday together with his brother. They had FINALLY been reunited. Doflamingo had thought all this time that his little brother was dead, and it had pained him to think that his only remaining family member had been taken from him - and that he hadn’t been there to protect him. Words couldn’t describe the joy he felt when Rocinante returned ( and Doflamingo was a person who had an act for putting words on things ). Actions spoke louder, he supposed. He hadn’t questioned where he was, and without hesitation, he had appointed him as his CORAZON, knocking Vergo off that chair that he had loyally occupied for so many years. Perhaps that was the reason why Vergo refused to accept Rocinante. He told Doflamingo ( in confidence ) that he should not trust him, and he had even gone as far as to tell him that he was blind to his true nature. Doflamingo didn’t listen. He refused to listen. For so many years, he had wished for nothing but his little brother. It was a miracle that he had been returned to him, and Doflamingo couldn’t bring himself to doubt him. They were together again, and he would do anything to protect him. Anything at all. Those who laid a hand on his brother would pay with their life.

     It was a disappointment, when Rocinante didn’t make it back in time. He had been deployed on a ‘ mission ‘. One that required the strength of one of the executives ( though Doflamingo never sent Rocinante off on missions that he deemed too dangerous for him ). He would’ve thought there was plenty of time for his brother to return before his birthday. A childish thought, he supposed, to want to have his family with him on this day. Too bad he didn’t show up. Doflamingo found himself unable to enjoy the celebrations due to this. It reminded him of the first few years after Rocinante disappeared. Back then, he had felt something similar - he had been missing him. He felt it now too. His absence. His empty chair like a symbolic reminder.

     He pretended to believe that Rocinante was only late because he was getting him a present. Deep down though - Doflamingo couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he had forgotten. This was a thought that never crossed him before, seeing as he saw himself as the center of the universe. How could anyone forget something as important as his birthday? But— If that wasn’t the case, why wasn’t his brother here? Doflamingo hated this feeling. Disappointment. Hurt. There was only one person who could make him feel like this, and that was Corazon. The sad truth was one Doflamingo would never admit, not even to himself - he loved his brother far more than he was being loved in return. 

[conquiistador]

Rosi: *sits cross-legged in the hallway, just outside Doffy's room, for most of the night just staring intently at the door until one of the Execs yell at him for it, or Gladius catches him off* :C

     It was rarefor Doflamingo to find himself completely alone. He was always surrounded bymembers of his family, or his crewmembers. The only time he was all alone was when he slept, which was rarely enough. Because of the nightmares that often plagued him, he had a bad habit of staying awake for too long. Not enough for it to show on his appearance, but enough so that he did feel pretty tired every now and then. Nobody was allowed in Doflamingo’s bedroom ( unless he invited them ). He even locked the door whenever he was going to sleep. In addition to the nightmares, Doflamingo’s paranoia was another reason why he had to be alone when he slept. He knew he was vulnereable in his sleep, and this really made it difficult to relax.

     This night was no different. He was laying in his very comfortable bed, on his back. His hands were resting on his stomach, and he watched them rise and fall in sync with his respiration, as he took a few deep breaths to try and tell his body to calm down. A comforting thought was that this wasn’t how it was always going to be. Sooner or later, he was going to be so powerful that nobody would dare make an attempt on his life in his sleep. And, no doubt, with time, the nightmares would stop haunting him too.

     He wasn’t quite sure when he fell asleep, but he did know what woke him up. It had to be the middle of the night, when Vergo’s voice sounded from outside the door. The words had just been a hushed, annoyed whisper, and yet, enough to call Doflamingo from his sleep. He blinked against the dark, red ceiling. He had forgotten to remove his sunglasses again. It soon became obvious that Vergo wasn’t speaking to him. That would explain why he kept his voice so low. He was trying NOT to wake Doflamingo.

     ❝ You have no business lurking here. ❞ Vergo was always strict, and Doflamingo knew him so well that he could tell when he was being hostile, even if Vergo usually kept his emotions to the bare minimum. Doflamingo wondered who on earth could be lurking outside his door in the middle of the night. Seemed his paranoia wasn’t misplaced after all. ❝ Doffy might trust you, but I don’t. Just so you know - his door is locked. Now run along, and don’t let me catch you sneaking around here again. ❞ Who was it Vergo didn’t trust that Doflamingo did? The answer was obvious. Why hadn’t he heard anyone else’s voice? Because the other person wasn’t speaking. Rocinante. Yes, Vergo had voiced his concernes regarding him, but Doflamingo had dismissed them. It was naive, and he was fully aware of that. He WANTED to trust Rocinante, without really having much reason to. Simply because he was his precious little brother. He could trust him, coudln’t he? Doflamingo had protected him every minute they had spent together.

     His eyes slid shut again. He wanted to trust him, and he was going to. Regardless of what Vergo said. Even if he was found skulking around outside Doflamingo’s bedroom door in the middle of the night. They were brothers! And… He was the only person Doflamingo could say that he loved. He trusted him. He trusted him. 

[conquiistador]

@pilawforhire said: So Doflamingo wanted him to find out on his own? That was good. That sounded like a challenge. That kept things interesting. Law liked interesting. Most things around were too dull. It was more fun to find out himself than to be told of something. He would make his own deductions then. First of all, to observe Doflamingo in his natural habitat- since otherwise the man was always in a suit. One night, Law creeps and hides inside Doflamingo's closet. He waits, eyes peeled.

     After a long day, Doflamingo’s body should’ve been plagued by fatigue. However, he carried himself as if he could go on for another year without rest. The door to his room was locked, and the key placed on the nightstand next to the bed. Sleep was NOT something he looked forward to. Nightmares of his childhood would haunt him. In his dreams was the only time when Doflamingo felt weak, and he hated it. A mute sigh fell from his lips, before he undid his tie, dropping it down in a nearby chair. A hand then raked through his hair, to calm himself. He didn’t have nightmares EVERY time he slept, so perhaps he would get lucky this time. Oh, how he hated to having to rely on luck. Slowly, he began to unbutton his jacket, and then, that too was pulled off and placed over the chair. 

[conquiistador]

One day, young Law sees a picture of a man with chest hair in a book. His father never had chest hair, so he’s curious about this. He goes up to Doflamingo for a mini interview. Doflamingo, are you au naturel or do you shave? Do you think chest hair makes a man? If you had a hairy chest, would you shave or leave it as it is? (Would you dye it pink to match? //don't mind me//feel free to take it as anon or pass this by//was bored and really wanted to know, so..)

     ❝ WELL — ❞ Exactly why the youngster found an interest in chest hair, he was unsure, but he wouldn’t mind answering at least some of his questions. ❝ Look at me, and I’ll leave you to your own deductions. Fu fu fu fu fu. ~ ❞ Or, maybe he WOULDN’T answer. He could’ve simply told him that no, he didn’t shave, because that was the truth. He didn’t grow much hair anywhere apart from his legs ( for example, he hardly grew any facial hair ). He definitely wouldn’t have dyed it pink, seeing as his hair was, in fact, blonde. As for making a man, Doflamingo was MORE than just a man, and would stay the same, regardless of his appearance.

[conquiistador]

*trips into ask box*

     Uses his strings to prevent his clumsy little brother from falling.