#vergo the spider

[doffysbirb]

Reclamation of the Porcelain Rose

Synopsis: In the shadowed ports of North Blue, a young rising pirate king, Doflamingo, sets his sights on a glittering prize, driven by a memory from a lost past. As his crew prepares for a daring raid, a reunion long buried beneath years of hardship looms on the horizon. Amidst chaos and fire, a dancer’s grace, Valerie, defies her chains, sparking a clash that will reshape her fate and ignite a bond forged in the ashes of youth. Warnings: Violence, Implied Slavery/Human Trafficking, Child Abuse/Neglect, Emotional Distress

Notes: Doflamingo may appear slightly OOC in this chapter due to his deep bond with Valerie, a unique dynamic shaped by their shared past. This is intentional to explore his character through her lens. Thank you for understanding!

Please read at your discretion. One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. Valerie is my OC, created for non-commercial fanwork.

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Spider Miles, a squalid North Blue port, thrummed with the Donquixote Pirates’ rising shadow. Their base, a fortified warehouse cloaked in gloom, stank of gunpowder and salt, its walls scarred by ambition. The Donquixote Pirates' jolly roger, a crossed-out smiley, fluttered above, a terror etched across the seas. At seventeen, Doflamingo commanded with divine menace, his lean, towering frame—stretching over nine feet—sprawled on a throne of splintered crates, legs crossed. His medium-length blonde hair, slicked back but wild with the day’s chaos, gleamed under the warehouse’s dim lanterns, sunglasses with red-tinted lenses glinting over hidden eyes, masking a storm within. A pair of goggles rested on his forehead, their dark frames a rugged accent to his youthful flair, framing his sharp features. A shorter pink feather coat, frayed from early battles, draped his shoulders, its edges brushing an open-collared shirt that bared his lean chest, loose pants cinched with a bold silver belt swaying as he twirled a pistol in his hand. A beaded necklace with dark purple beads hung low, a single gold earring catching the light, a punkish echo of his Celestial Dragon roots twisted by pirate grit. His sharp smirk radiated menace, his posture a god surveying his domain.

Trebol, Diamante, Pica and Vergo stood bound by Downs’ blood seven years past, their silhouettes framing the scene. Before Doflamingo knelt the last survivor of a rival crew, battered and quivering, his pleas drowned by Trebol’s grating cackle. Trebol, his mucus-slick form hunched with sadistic glee, jabbed his staff at the man, his laughter echoing off the warehouse’s rusted beams as he relished the pirate’s fear. “Heh! Spill your guts, worm, or I’ll roast ya with a flick of my goo! Been too long since I melted a fool like this!” His sticky tendrils dripped, pooling on the blood-streaked floor, his eyes alight with anticipation.

Diamante leaned against a wall, sword idle in his hand, his grin widening as he twirled the blade with theatrical flair, the steel catching the lanternlight. “Boring,” he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain as he paced a slow circle around the prisoner, “but I’ll carve him up quick if you say the word, Young Master. Let’s make it a performance—blood and silk, a masterpiece for your glory!” His flamboyant swagger hinted at his eagerness to impress Doflamingo with a showy kill.

Pica’s massive shadow loomed, his granite-like frame motionless yet radiating a silent menace, his massive fists clenching briefly as if testing the stone beneath his boots, ready to crush any resistance. Vergo’s stoic gaze bore into the man, his black coat blending with the shadows, his posture taut with a predator’s patience, assessing the pirate with cold precision. The pirate rasped, hands raised, “Mercy! I got news—gold, a noble’s hoard!”

Doflamingo’s head tilted, his voice velvet over steel. “Gold? Fufufu, you think I care for scraps? Speak, or this bullet’s your reward.” His pistol steadied, glinting.

The pirate gulped, voice cracking. “Word is, Tobias is coming back to North Blue soon, flaunting his wealth after years away! A noble—swimming in berries! His daughter’s doll, a girl called the Porcelain Rose, dances like a dream. Packs theatres across the Blues, raking in fortunes. They’re headed to Goldhaven’s grand theatre in two days, his vault stuffed with her earnings—ripe for you!”

Tobias’ name struck Doflamingo like a lash, his grip tightening, knuckles whitening beneath the pistol’s gleam, a raw fury flaring behind his red-tinted lenses. Val. The Downs hill—her stubborn grin, twirling for Rosi, calling him Doffy—burned in his mind, unburied after seven years. Dared to enslave her still? The pirate’s words—Porcelain Rose, dances like a dream—ignited a blaze of rage, the insult to his claim a personal affront he masked with a cold smirk. His jaw clenched, his feather coat swaying as he leaned forward, concealing the storm within. “The Porcelain Rose, huh? A noble’s toy. How quaint.” He paused, his gaze narrowing on the pirate. “Tell me, does this Porcelain Rose have a name?”

The pirate, trembling under Doflamingo’s scrutiny, gulped again, his voice cracking. “Y-Yes.. they call her Valerie. And there’s a rumor—she once punched a noble square in the jaw, bold as brass!” His words hung in the air, a spark igniting Doflamingo’s memory. Vergo’s eyes narrowed, sensing the shift. “Doffy?” he murmured, probing.

Doflamingo rose, his towering frame casting a shadow, his coat billowing. “Goldhaven, two days,” he said, voice sharp. “Tobias—his wealth, his head, they’re mine.” He fired, the pirate crumpling, blood pooling. Turning to his crew, he snapped, “Trebol, Diamante, Pica—ready the ship. We sail at dusk.”

Trebol’s cackle rose, his mucus-slick form quivering with delight as he clapped his hands, the sound wet and ominous. “Heh! A noble’s skull and gold? Oh, Doffy, this’ll be a feast! I’ll melt their defenses to slag—let’s make it a sticky end for that fool Tobias!” His enthusiasm bubbled, his staff tapping the floor in rhythm with his glee.

Diamante’s grin stretched, his sword flashing as he sheathed it with a flourish, his voice rising with excitement. “A spectacle it is, Young Master! I’ll slice through their guards like a dance!” He spun on his heel, already envisioning the chaos.

Pica’s high-pitched voice broke the silence for the first time, a startling chirp cutting through the warehouse’s tension as he shifted his massive frame, his granite-like fists slamming into an open palm with a resounding crack. “I’ll smash Goldhaven’s defenses to dust for you, Doffy!” His bulky form quivered with eager resolve, the warehouse floor shuddering faintly under his weight.

Vergo lingered, his voice steady and measured as he studied Doflamingo’s tense posture. “The girl, Doffy. What’s she to you?” His tone carried a quiet intensity, his keen eyes tracing the flicker of emotion behind his captain’s sunglasses.

Doflamingo paused, his sunglasses hiding the storm, his earring glinting as he turned to the warehouse’s grimy window, Goldhaven’s horizon faint. “If she’s there, she’s mine,” he said, final, his tone brooking no questions. Goldhaven would bleed, and she’d be his again.

The crew dispersed, the warehouse’s shadows swallowing their steps. Doflamingo stood alone, the sea’s murmur beyond the walls echoing Downs’ lost hill. “You better still be you,” he muttered, his voice a blade in the dark. The Donquixote Pirates would sail, their jolly roger heralding ruin. Tobias’ fortune awaited, but so did a girl who’d defied a god. Fufufu.. time to collect.

The Numancia Flamingo sliced through the night, its jolly roger snapping against a sky strewn with silver stars, the sea a restless mirror reflecting the moon’s pale glow. The vessel, a sleek brigantine rigged with white sails, creaked under the crew’s hurried preparations—ropes coiled, cannons primed, the deck alive with the clatter of boots and the sharp tang of tar. Below deck, the Donquixote Pirates lay in restless slumber, Trebol’s mucus-slick snores rumbling through the hammocks, Diamante’s sword propped idly against a crate as he dozed with a faint smirk, and Pica’s high-pitched murmurs punctuating the quiet as he shifted in his sleep, dreaming of Goldhaven’s ruin. The air was thick with salt and the faint burn of lantern oil, a stark contrast to the warehouse’s gunpowder stench left behind in Spider Miles.

Doflamingo stood alone at the ship’s stern, his towering frame leaning against the weathered railing, his sharp smirk absent, replaced by a rare stillness. His gaze pierced the horizon where Goldhaven loomed, a faint silhouette against the dawn’s edge, his fingers gripping the wood with a tension that belied his calm facade. His mind churned, images of Valerie flickering like ghosts in the sea’s reflection. Seven years had sculpted him into a god of the seas, his hands stained with blood, his heart hardened by conquest, yet her memory lingered, a thorn beneath his divine armor. Valerie, he thought, his grip tightening, still chained to his will after all this time? The pirate’s words still stirred a quiet fury, mingled with a gnawing guilt for letting her slip away. Not for love, he told himself, but for the honor of his claim, a god’s duty to reclaim what was stolen. Yet beneath the veneer, a flicker of longing burned—her voice, her defiance, buried under Tobias’ chains. Will she even know me? The question gnawed, unbidden, as the ship rocked beneath him.

Footsteps approached, deliberate and steady. Vergo emerged from the shadows, his stoic face unreadable under the starlight, a spoon inexplicably stuck to his cheek, glinting faintly in the moonlight. He stopped beside Doflamingo, his gaze following the horizon, then shifted to his captain. “Doffy,” he said, his voice low, “you’ve been out here since we set sail. Hours now. What drives you to this vigil? Is it the girl—Valerie?”

Doflamingo’s head tilted, his red-tinted lenses catching a sliver of moonlight, his smirk returning, sharp and deflecting. “Fufufu, Vergo, always the observant one,” he drawled, his tone masking the storm within. “She’s a debt, a piece of my past. Tobias took her—stole what’s mine. That’s all you need.” His fingers twitched, a subtle betrayer of his calm facade.

Vergo’s eyes narrowed, his silence a weight. “A debt?” he pressed, his voice steady but probing. “Or something more? You’ve not spoken of Downs like this since we left. She stirs old wounds, doesn’t she?”

Doflamingo’s smirk faltered, his gaze dropping to the churning waves. Old wounds. The hill, Rosi’s tears, Val’s stubborn kick—memories he’d buried under blood and power, now unearthed by a pirate’s whisper. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice a low growl, “but it’s my business to settle. Tobias will pay, and she’ll be mine again—whole or not.” He straightened, his resolve hardening, then glanced at Vergo with a faint, mocking chuckle. “And Vergo, lose the spoon—looks like you’ve been raiding the galley, not the horizon.” He smirked again, his tone lightening. “Focus on Goldhaven. The gold’s ours, and her fate is mine to decide.”

Vergo nodded, his loyalty unshaken, though his eyes lingered a moment longer, a flicker of amusement crossing his stoic face as he reached up to remove the spoon. “As you command,” he said, retreating into the shadows, leaving Doflamingo to his vigil.

Alone again, Doflamingo stared at the horizon, the sea’s murmur a dirge for Downs’ lost days. Valerie, he thought, his grip tightening, if you’re broken, I’ll mend you—or break Tobias twice over. The Donquixote Pirates sailed on, Goldhaven drawing near with every wave. His heart, a god’s heart, beat with vengeance—and a whisper of something softer, buried deep.

Two days later, by dawn, the Donquixote Pirates’ ship anchored off Goldhaven’s coast, the island’s opulent skyline a glittering prize of spires and gilded domes basking in the first light. The kingdom’s grand theatre, where Tobias planned his show, rose like a jewel at its heart, its marble facade etched with seashell motifs, windows aglow with the hum of preparation. Doflamingo gathered his crew—Trebol, Diamante, Pica, and Vergo—in the captain’s cabin, the air tense with the creak of wood and the faint scent of sea moss clinging to their boots. His orders cut through the silence, crisp and unyielding. “We hit at midnight, when the show’s at its peak. Tobias’ vault, his guards, his stage—take it all. No mercy.”

Trebol’s eyes gleamed with a manic hunger, his lanky frame swaying as he rubbed his hands together, a wet squelch echoing in the cabin. “Oh, a theatre drenched in chaos? Doffy, I’ll smother their screams with my slime—turn their fancy seats into a sticky grave!” His voice quivered with delight, his staff tapping a jittery beat against the floor, his anticipation for the bloodshed palpable.

Diamante’s lips curled into a sly smile, his fingers tracing the edge of a velvet curtain as he leaned closer, his voice a smooth purr. “The spotlight’s mine, Young Master—I’ll weave a dance of steel through their ranks, leaving a trail of elegance in the carnage!” His confident stride suggested a performance as much for Doflamingo’s approval as for the raid’s success, his sword gleaming with intent.

Pica’s towering form shifted, his broad shoulders rolling as he let out a high-pitched giggle, the sound bouncing off the cabin walls with an eerie lilt. “I’ll topple their grandstands with a single shove—bury them under marble for you, Doffy!” His massive hands flexed, the wood creaking under his weight, his quirky zeal adding a surreal edge to the plan’s brutality.

Vergo stepped forward, his presence a steady anchor amidst the fervor. “I’ll scout ahead, confirm the layout. We need to know Tobias’ defenses.” His tone was calm, his eyes sharp with focus.

Doflamingo nodded, his smirk predatory. “Go. Don’t get caught.”

Vergo slipped into Goldhaven under daylight, blending with the bustling crowds of merchants and nobles, their chatter a hum of excitement for the evening’s show. Posters plastered every corner, showcasing a girl in a rich crimson velvet bodice with a sweetheart neckline, framed by gold embroidery and shimmering beads, flowing into a tutu of crimson tulle with gold appliques and white stitching, its lower layers soft white tulle edged with gold sequins. A matching crimson velvet choker with ruffles and a crimson gemstone adorned her throat, concealing a bomb collar, while white tights and soft pink ballet slippers with satin ribbons, paired with a delicate gold-accented tiara on top of her head, completed the image. Porcelain Rose: One Night Only! the text blared, her crimson eyes—even in ink—burning with a fire Vergo recognized from Doflamingo’s rare silences. He tore the poster down, tucking it under his coat, his mind registering the choker’s oddity.

Inside the theatre, Vergo moved through shadowed aisles, the grand hall’s chandeliers dimmed for rehearsal. On the stage, Valerie, now fifteen, danced alone, her light blonde hair in a messy braid swaying with each step, her outfit a light pink leotard with a matching skirt and leg warmers, her pink ballet slippers scuffing the boards. The bomb collar, its red light faintly glowing, encircled her throat, a stark contrast to her graceful moves. Guards loomed nearby, their eyes cold, while Karina, stood with arms crossed, her sapphire gown shimmering. As Valerie paused, Karina strode forward, her face twisted with jealousy, and slapped her cheek with a sharp crack, her voice a venomous hiss. “You think you’re the star now, dolly? Keep dreaming!” She shoved Valerie, who stumbled, her braid unraveling further, her stoic mask cracking under the sting. Guards nearby shifted uneasily but did nothing. Vergo’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he memorized the scene, then slipped away.

By dusk, Vergo returned to the ship, finding Doflamingo on the deck, sharpening his pistol. The crew was below, prepping weapons in hushed tones. Vergo approached, unfolding the poster. “This is her,” he said, his voice low.

Doflamingo’s fingers stilled, his gaze hidden as he took the poster. Valerie’s image stared back—older, poised, but unmistakably her, the girl who’d teased him on a hill. Her crimson eyes, though captured in print, burned with a defiance that hadn’t broken. The choker, he knew, hid something worse—a collar, a chain. Porcelain Rose. A name that mocked her fire with fragile lies. “I saw Tobias’ brat lashing out on her,” Vergo added, his tone grim. “She struck Valerie, hard, with guards watching. And that choker—there's a bomb collar behind it, Doffy, rigged to keep her in line.”

Doflamingo’s smirk faded, his fingers crumpling the poster’s edge, a cold fury igniting in his chest. The choker’s secret confirmed, his rage sharpened—Tobias had not only stolen her but bound her with that vile device. “His fortune, his life, his cursed stage,” he growled, his voice a low thunder, “they’re mine. And her.. she’ll be free of that collar, under my command—no one’s puppet but mine.” His resolve hardened, his mind racing with plans to shatter Tobias’ empire.

Vergo stood silent, his face unreadable. Doflamingo tossed the poster aside, his smirk returning, edged with steel. “A caged bird for his spawn. Fufufu, he’ll choke on his regret. Tonight, Goldhaven falls.”

As Vergo nodded and turned to rally the crew, Doflamingo leaned back against the railing, the crumpled poster fluttering to the deck. Goldhaven’s lights blazed brighter now, a stage set for blood. Tobias would fall, and Valerie—whether the girl who’d called him Doffy or a shadow forged by cruelty—would be his again. The Donquixote Pirates would strike, and the kingdom would kneel before their king.

Midnight cloaked Goldhaven’s grand theatre, its opulent facade—gold filigree and sapphire spires—silent as the Donquixote Pirates moved like specters through the shadows. Doflamingo led Trebol, Diamante, Pica, and Vergo, his sunglasses glinting under the moon, their blades flashing as they slit the throats of Tobias’ guards outside, bodies crumpling without a sound. The balcony seats, high above the bustling crowd, were empty—a perfect perch. Doflamingo settled into a velvet chair, his smirk predatory, his crew fanning out beside him, weapons concealed but primed. “Fufufu, let’s enjoy the show,” he murmured, his gaze locked on the stage below.

The curtains parted, revealing Valerie at the stage’s edge, poised in the same elegant outfit depicted on the posters—rich crimson velvet and layered tulle, crowned with a gold tiara, her light blonde hair in a tight bun. The crimson choker gleamed at her throat, hinting at the bomb collar beneath, while her movements soon began to tell the rest. The orchestra swelled, a haunting melody filling the theatre, and she launched into her dance. Her movements erupted in a tempest of grace—a grand pas de chat soaring with fierce leaps, each bound a silent rebellion against the collar’s weight, her legs cutting through the air like blades of resolve. She spun into a series of fouetté relevés, her body whipping with controlled fury, each turn a heartbeat of defiance, her crimson eyes blazing as if channeling a fire buried deep. Her attitude turns flowed like a mournful tide, arms weaving with ethereal precision, every step a plea to a past she’d nearly forgotten. She glided across the stage, lost in the music, as if the world beyond her dance melted into shadow, her spirit unbroken despite the chains.

Doflamingo leaned forward, utterly captivated, his smirk softening into a rare intensity. She was no longer the clumsy girl from Downs, yet every soaring leap and spin carried her. Her grace was a blazing defiance, a fire Tobias hadn’t crushed, each movement a testament to the spirit he’d known. His fingers twitched, strings aching to sever her chains, a silent vow swelling in his chest, fueled by the dance’s unyielding power.

As the music crescendoed, Valerie unleashed a final, electrifying grand pas de chat, her legs slicing the air with fierce leaps before landing in a poised attitude turn, her arms outstretched in a gesture of raw resilience. The audience erupted in applause, white roses raining onto the stage like a soft storm. She stepped forward, bowing with practiced elegance, her movements mechanical, but as her eyes lifted to the balcony, she froze. There, among the shadows, was a figure she’d thought lost to time—sunglasses glinting, blonde hair catching the light, that unmistakable smirk she’d glimpsed in her nightmares. Doffy. Her heart pounded, memories crashing like waves: the hill in Downs, Rosi’s shy “Val,” her childish vow to dance on a grand stage. He found me. Disbelief tangled with a fragile hope—had he braved the seas to save her after nine forsaken years? Or was he here to ruin her world, a rising pirate king forged from Downs’ ashes? Fear clawed at her, battling a spark she’d buried beneath the collar’s weight, her breath hitching as she stood, rooted in the spotlight’s unrelenting glare. Could this Doffy, shrouded in danger, still be the boy who’d grudgingly thanked her for saving him from Scrabby, his scowl etched in her memory? Her hands trembled, caught between the urge to rush toward him and the instinct to flee the chaos she felt brewing in his presence.

“Doffy..” Valerie breathed, her voice a whisper lost in the crowd’s cheers.

Doflamingo’s grin widened, predatory yet warm, his eyes locked on hers through his sunglasses. “Fufufu. Looks like my ballerina hasn’t forgotten me just yet.”

From his private box, Tobias noticed Valerie’s stillness, his gaze following hers to the balcony. His face paled, recognizing Doflamingo’s silhouette—the Donquixote Pirates, scourge of North Blue. “Guards!” he barked, his voice trembling with panic. “Now!”

Vergo’s eyes flicked to the box, his voice low. “Doffy, they’re moving.”

Doflamingo stood, his coat billowing. “Show’s over, rats. Scram.” He raised his pistol, firing a single shot that dropped a guard mid-step, blood pooling on the polished floor. Chaos erupted—screams pierced the theatre as nobles and merchants scrambled for the exits, shoving past each other in panic. Karina, caught in the crowd, gaped at the balcony, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the pirates’ intent.

Doflamingo’s strings flickered, a subtle web of Parasite weaving through the air. With a flick of his fingers, he seized control of several guards’ bodies, blades slashing through flesh and audience alike. Panic escalated, blood spraying as controlled guards cut down others, their movements jerky yet lethal, a chaotic dance orchestrated by Doflamingo’s will. “Fufufu, let’s thin the herd,” he chuckled, his strings tightening the grip on his puppets.

The Donquixote Pirates descended like a storm. Trebol lurched forward, his mucus-slick hands conjuring a thick, adhesive wave that engulfed a fleeing noble, pinning him to a wall as Trebol sneered, “Stay put, you gilded pig!” His laughter boomed, the adhesive igniting into a smoldering trap, the noble’s cries fading into the blaze spreading across the tiered seats.

Diamante surged onto the auditorium floor, his Hira Hira no Mi rippling his cape into a whirlwind of steel blades, slicing through a cluster of guards with a flourish. “A dance of death, eh?” he crowed, his voice ringing with delight as he spun, his cape shredding armor and flesh, leaving a trail of glittering debris in his wake.

Pica’s massive form surged from the balcony, his Ishi Ishi no Mi merging with the theatre’s stone, his granite fists smashing into the auditorium’s pillars in silent fury. Cracks spidered across the walls as the structure groaned under his weight, trapping panicked nobles beneath rubble, his towering presence a wordless harbinger of destruction.

Vergo moved with lethal precision, his Busoshoku Haki hardening his fists as he struck a guard’s chest, the man collapsing with a gasp. “Secure the vault,” his voice calm amid the pandemonium, clearing a path through the fray.

Valerie stood rooted on the stage, the bomb collar’s threat paralyzing her. She watched, helpless, as the theatre became a battlefield—flames climbing, blood staining the aisles, the crowd’s panic a deafening roar. Doflamingo’s crew was a force of nature, their violence a brutal symphony, and at its center was Doffy, his strings weaving chaos.

“Get her off the stage!” Tobias yelled from his box, his voice shrill over the chaos, his hands trembling as he clutched a velvet curtain for support.

Two guards stormed the stage, seizing Valerie’s arms. “Come on, let’s go!” one growled.

“No, I’m staying here!” Valerie snapped, wrenching free. She drove her elbow into the first guard’s face, knocking him out cold, but the second grabbed her wrists, his grip bruising. She struggled, her ballet-honed strength flaring—Doffy was here, and she wouldn’t be dragged away again.

Doflamingo vaulted to Tobias’ private box, strings flickering like a spider’s web as he landed with a predatory grace, the velvet floor trembling beneath his weight. Tobias stumbled back, his face ashen, hands raised in a frantic plea, his silk robes trembling as he cowered against the gilded railing. “Wait! Spare me, Doflamingo! I’ll give you gold—half my fortune, the vault, my estates in Vellum! Take it all!” His voice cracked, desperation pooling in his wide, terrified eyes as he sank to his knees, clutching the railing with white-knuckled fingers. “She’s just a tool, a dancer—I raised her, trained her! I’ll free her, release that collar, let her go to you! Please, I beg you, don’t let your pirates burn my legacy!”

Doflamingo’s grin twisted into a sneer, his voice a venomous purr laced with divine disdain. “Fufufu, beg all you like, Tobias. You dared chain what’s mine, parade her like a puppet for your greed, turning her fire into your profit. Your gold, your estates—they’re dust to a god. Your life ends here, and your legacy crumbles with it.” His strings lashed out, a blur of shimmering threads slicing through Tobias’ chest with surgical precision, the noble’s gurgling cry echoing as blood sprayed across the velvet walls, staining the opulent decor a dark crimson. Doflamingo stepped closer, his boot pressing down on Tobias’ collapsing form, savoring the man’s final shudder as life faded. He rifled through the noble’s coat with deliberate care, his fingers brushing past trembling flesh to pluck a small, tarnished key—the bomb collar’s release—from an inner pocket. He held it up, the metal glinting in the chaos’s firelight, his eyes blazing with triumph and a flicker of relief, his hand lingering on the blood-soaked fabric as if claiming victory over the years of her captivity.

The stage below was a warzone, guards falling like chaff to the crew’s onslaught. Trebol’s flames now engulfed the upper tiers, chandeliers crashing in showers of glass. Diamante danced through the fray, his steel cape skewering guards who advanced through the crowd. Pica’s stone fists pulverized the theatre’s wings, trapping reinforcements, while Vergo secured the vault, dragging sacks of gold to the crew’s rally point. Doflamingo leaped down, landing beside Valerie as she wrestled the second guard. A flick of his strings yanked the man back, slamming him into the stage’s edge, unconscious.

Doflamingo stepped forward, his presence a storm of charisma and menace, the air around him crackling with unresolved fury. “So, you really did pursue performing on stage, Valerie,” he said, his voice low and almost tender, yet threaded with a possessive edge that betrayed years of pent-up longing. He reached out, cupping her left cheek, his thumb brushing her skin with a gentleness that clashed with the blood on his hands, as if reclaiming a treasure lost to Downs’ ashes. “It’s been too long, my ballerina.”

Valerie’s breath caught, her crimson eyes meeting his through his sunglasses, a shiver racing through her—warmth from a boy she’d known, now laced with the danger of a pirate. Doffy. The boy who’d scoffed at her dreams, yet shielded her from Downs’ scorn, his scowl etched in her soul. She pulled his hand away, her voice trembling with guilt and disbelief, raw from the weight of nine years. “Why did you look for me? I disappeared.. I left you and Rosi to suffer when they burned our home. I abandoned you to that fire, to the streets, while I danced in chains.” Her mind flashed to Karina’s slaps, the collar’s shocks, Tobias’ cold commands—each a scar on her spirit.

Doflamingo’s smirk softened, a rare flicker of humanity breaking through his godly facade, his eyes darkening with a guilt he’d buried since Downs. “You didn’t abandon us, Valerie,” he said, his voice firm yet laced with a tremor of regret. “You were stolen, torn from us by that bastard Tobias. You fought—sneaking scraps for us, facing those brats with that fire in you. Don’t bear their sins; they’re mine to avenge.” He gripped her chin gently, tilting her face to meet his gaze, his strings hovering like a protective shroud, trembling with the memory of her courage on that hill. “You were always ours. Mine.”

Her eyes widened, tears welling as his words shattered the walls she’d built against nine years of despair. Ours. Rosi’s shy smile, Doffy’s grudging thanks after Scrabby—proof she hadn’t failed them entirely. But the weight of her captivity cracked her voice. “I thought you were gone, Doffy. I thought.. I’d never see you again, not after the fires, the collar, her cruelty. Why now? Why risk your empire for me?”

Doflamingo’s laugh was low, a blend of amusement and a fierce resolve that echoed the boy who’d once stood by her through Downs’ chaos. “Fufufu, risk? I’m a god, Valerie, but even gods reclaim their own. Tobias stole you, turned your fire into his profit, and I let Downs burn without you. I came to ruin his world, to bring you back where you belong—beside me, where no chain can touch you.” His fingers lingered on her chin, his gaze piercing through her pain to the girl who’d teased him, a spark he’d never forgotten.

Valerie’s heart ached, hope and fear colliding in a torrent. Where I belong. With him, with the family forged in Downs’ ruins, beyond Karina’s lashes and Tobias’ vaults. But could she embrace this Doffy, whose hands bore blood as well as salvation? Her tears fell, tracing paths down her cheeks, her voice steadying with a resolve born of her stage fights. “I.. I want that. To be free, with you, away from her hands, his greed.”

Doflamingo’s grin returned, fierce with pride and a hint of redemption for Downs’ loss. He produced the key, his fingers gently removing the crimson velvet choker from her throat with a tenderness that belied the chaos, then unlocking the bomb collar with a soft click. It fell to the stage, a clatter against the wood, and he crushed it under his boot, the sound a sharp punctuation amid the crackling flames. “You’re free,” he said, his voice a solemn vow, heavy with the weight of their shared past. He stepped closer, his hand resting on her shoulder, a silent promise of protection. “No one chains you again—not her, not him, not ever.”

The crew regrouped near the theatre’s smoldering ruins, hauling sacks of Tobias’ gold from the vault, the grand structure groaning as flames licked the rafters and sapphire tiles crashed to the ground in a shower of sparks. As they exited, the night air cool and sharp with sea spray against the heat, Valerie stayed close to Doflamingo, her legs unsteady from the night’s chaos and a lingering ache from her flight, her resolve a quiet flame amid the chaos. The ship waited at the docks, its white sails soft against the moonlit sea, but a sudden commotion erupted from the theatre’s side entrance. Karina emerged, her frilly dress torn and char-streaked, her eyes filled with rage. She lunged forward, seizing Valerie from behind with surprising force, pressing a pilfered pistol to her temple, the metal cold against Valerie’s skin, a desperate last stand born of the raid’s confusion and her crumbling status as Tobias’ heir.

“You think you can steal my doll and walk away?” Karina snarled, her grip trembling but fierce, her voice cracking with desperation. “With Father dead, she’s all I have left—my legacy, my control! She’s done dancing forever unless you back off—my father’s empire ends with her!”

“Karina,” Valerie said, her voice steady despite the gun’s press, her crimson eyes narrowing with a defiance honed by years of her tormentor’s cruelty, her body tensing against the familiar pain.

“This little wench!” Diamante spat, his sword flashing as he stepped forward, but Pica’s massive form shifted silently, his strength a quiet deterrent as he loomed protectively. Doflamingo’s raised hand halted Diamante, his smirk calm yet edged with menace, his gaze assessing the standoff.

Karina’s voice sharpened, venomous and shrill. “That’s right! She’s mine—my father bought her, molded her into the Porcelain Rose! Why would she choose you, a filthy pirate, over the stage I forced her to shine on, the crowds I made her please with every scar?” Her free hand clenched Valerie’s messy bun, yanking it painfully, a final act of possession.

Doflamingo’s gaze locked on Valerie, his tone smooth, almost teasing, but laced with a dangerous undercurrent. “She’s got a point, Valerie. That stage was your dream, wasn’t it? All those years, dancing under her whip, shining for her father’s gold, bearing scars for their applause. Why throw it away for a pirate like me? Choose your path—freedom with us, or this cage she clings to with her last breath.”

Valerie’s eyes met his, her heart steady despite the pistol’s chill and the strain of the night’s chaos, the weight of Karina’s grip a familiar ache from years of torment. The stage had been her dream, but it was a gilded prison—Karina’s slaps, Tobias’ chains, the collar’s shocks a constant reminder of her lost hope. Doflamingo’s crew, their chaos and blood, were her family from Downs—Rosi’s memory, a gentle laugh on that hill, Doffy’s grudging protection. “The stage was a cage,” she said, her voice clear, resolute, cutting through Karina’s rage. “I danced to survive, not to live. I choose you, Doffy. Our family—me, you, Rosi’s shadow. I want to be free, not her puppet.”

Doflamingo’s smirk widened, a glint of triumph and pride igniting in his eyes, his voice dropping to a low, intense murmur. “Fufufu, that’s my girl. One last question, Valerie—would you give everything for me? Your life, your past, your every step—would you lay it all at my feet?” His gaze bore into her, a mix of challenge and a flicker of guilt over Downs’ flames.

Valerie’s gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through her exhaustion, her voice steady with a resolve forged on stages of pain. “For you, Doffy, I’d give it all. Seeing you again.. it’s a dream I buried under her lashes and his greed. I’m with you now—freedom, family, a new stage.” Her body swayed, the night’s toll weighing on her, but her spirit held firm.

“You filthy wretch!” Karina screamed, shoving the pistol harder against Valerie’s temple, her finger twitching on the trigger as Pica’s shadow loomed. “I’ll end you both!” Before she could fire, Doflamingo’s strings snapped out, his Parasite technique seizing her. Karina’s arm jerked violently under his control, the pistol twisting in her grasp and discharging with a deafening crack, the bullet striking her own chest. Valerie’s breath hitched, a surge of surprise washing over her as she realized she hadn’t been shot, her heart pounding with relief at Doflamingo’s swift intervention. Karina staggered, blood gushing from the self-inflicted wound, her eyes wide with horror as she fell, her legacy crumbling with her final, gasping breath.

Doflamingo stood in front of Valerie, his voice low, steady, yet warm with a tenderness rare for him, a shadow of Downs’ loss crossing his mind. “I didn’t cross seas to lose you now, Valerie. You’re too precious—my spark from a hill I failed to save.” He offered his hand, his smirk softening into something almost gentle. “Come with us, join the Donquixote Pirates. We’ll forge a new world, one where you dance free.”

“Doffy..” Valerie’s knees buckled, exhaustion from the night’s chaos overtaking her. She sank to the ground, her body trembling, tears mingling on her cheeks, the night air chilling her skin.

Doflamingo chuckled, scooping her into his arms, her head resting against his chest, the steady beat a lifeline amid the fading chaos. “Rest now, my ballerina. We’ve a ship waiting, and a stage of our own to build—beyond their chains.”

Valerie nestled closer, her voice a whisper barely audible over the crackling flames. “I really missed you, Doffy.. more than the stage ever did.”

Trebol lumbered past, dragging a sack of gold, his mucus-slick hands leaving a trail as he chortled, “Heh heh! Got the girl, the loot, and a fine blaze—perfect haul, Doffy!” His bulk swayed with satisfaction, his eyes glinting with the thrill of the night’s plunder.

Diamante sauntered behind, wiping his sword on a fallen guard’s cloak, his grin sly as he admired the burning theatre. “Stole the star and the scene, Young Master! A performance to remember!” His voice carried a note of pride, his steps light despite the weight of their spoils.

Pica trudged forward, his massive form steadying a toppling gold sack, his gaze fixed on the path to the docks. His strength bore the crew’s haul with quiet determination, a pillar amidst the flames.

Vergo led the way, his silence a steady guide as he cleared debris, ensuring their escape route to the docks remained open. His precision cut through the night, a shadow ensuring their victory.

The theatre burned behind them, flames roaring into the sky, a pyre for Tobias’ greed and Karina’s cruelty. The Donquixote Pirates vanished into the night, their ship waiting, gold heavy in their hold and Valerie safe in Doflamingo’s arms. She was no longer a doll, but a spark reborn, ready to carve her place in a family of pirates—a path that would one day crown her Queen of Hearts.

divider by: @uzmacchiato

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[the-bar-sinister]

A Hymn for Thieves and Lawmen (2625 words) by Dave Strider Chapters: 1/? Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Donquixote Doflamingo/Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante, Donquixote Doflamingo/Trebol, Donquixote Doflamingo/Pica, Diamante/Donquixote Doflamingo Additional Tags: Angst and Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, like very eventual, Tragic Romance, Polyamory, Jealousy, Brother/Brother Incest, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Medical Trauma, Medical Experimentation, Found Family, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Backstory, Villains, Crimes & Criminals, Espionage, Unreliable Narrator, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, the juxtaposition of the tender and the horrific, prototype pacifista rosinante Summary: Doflamingo's heart soars to have his beloved brother finally returned to him, and nothing will stop Doffy from smothering him with all the affection he knows how to give. All Doffy wants is to make Rosi a part of the criminal family he's built during his brother's long absence.

Trebol's heart sinks as he watches his beloved Young Master open himself up for heartbreak at the hands of the silent interloper, as Rosinante worms his way into their midst in Vergo's absence. Trebol is certainly jealous of the love and attention Doffy has for his brother, but that doesn't mean his suspicions are misplaced.

Rosinante has no heart beating in his chest. He is secretly the subject of the World Government's first attempts at what will one day be known as a Pacifista, and with the government watching through his eyes, and listening through his ears, could he disobey even if he wanted to? The longer Rosi spends with his brother, the more he desperately wishes he could.

They could have sent anyone to infiltrate the Donquixotes. The compound on Spider Miles was well known to accept all manner of vagrants and vagabonds.

They could have sent anyone. 

They sent Rosinante because 'justice' and 'cruelty' are synonyms. The word that was used was 'punishment'. Because the cruelty was the point.

"He's your brother," they told him. "The evil he does is your responsibility. And you are part of his punishment."

Rosinante accepted it silently, like he had accepted many other cruelties before. Because the unspoken fact that it was part of his own punishment as well. Because it was part of the constant, unending test against him, every day, whether or not he was worthy to live.

"They ordered the execution of you and your brother for treason and betrayal of the World Government, and for the perversion of law and order." Sengoku had explained it to him in the hold of the marine warship, five nights after the man had found him, huddled and starving in a small cave in the woods of North Blue island and clutching the pit of a disgusting fruit, the only food that he had found on his own. "I have begged for your life, so that you may have a chance to prove yourself a loyal marine. I have explained to them that even someone with the blood of a traitor might become a worthy instrument of justice. I trust that you won't disappoint me."

Rosinante had lived every day after that striving to become that worthy instrument of justice, striving as hard as he could not to disappoint the man who had saved his life, stomach sick with the idea that there would come a day that they would declare him somehow disloyal.

That was the reason that Rosi had endured the brutal marine training with the other orphans; training that often instructed its pupils to work without food or sleep, to suffer harsh conditions, to withstand pain without complaint.

That was why Rosi had accepted it when they wanted to use him as a test subject for a new, indestructible kind of marine. Why he had allowed them to take his body apart piece by piece and put it back together, scarred and numb with eyes. Why he had let them implant devices in his eyes and ears to record his surroundings and make him a better spy. A better instrument of justice.

That was why he let them give him drugs that claimed were medications for his enhancements, but he knew dulled his emotions, and his impulse to resist.

Those medications made it hurt less when they made the final demand of him. To infiltrate a band of notorious pirates, uncover their secrets, and carry out a long delayed execution.

The execution of his own brother.

So Rosinante took a small, single man craft and sailed toward an unfamiliar island in the North Blue.

When he arrived at the docks, in civilian clothes, in full view of the sailors and dock workers he was immediately assaulted by a cadre of marines, as planned. 

As planned, in full view of the dock, Rosinante allowed them to beat him to what would be within an inch of a normal man's life, and leave him for dead in a heap on the ground.

Twenty minutes later he crawled and limped his way to the outskirts of the city, to a former factory that had been taken over as the estate of the so-called 'Donquixote family'.

Rosinante collapsed on his brother's doorstep.

Home at last.

-

Trebol threw Corazon's latest report in the fireplace, watching the paper curl and blacken as the fire took it. 

Vergo had been gone for a month. As Corazon he was the officer most involved in duplicity and stealth between the lot of them, so he was also the one most often away from the family. His muted, often rambling presence was missed, but the messages he sent couldn't be kept, just in case, as it would jeopardize ongoing Doffy's 'Warlord of the Sea' agenda. Vergo was busy building a name for himself as a mercenary, to use as his springboard to infiltrate the Marines and receive an officer's commission, and per his report, succeeding magnificently.

Trebol hummed pleasantly as he shuffled through the other paperwork– mostly black market requests and shipment manifests. One wax sealed envelope would be going right to Doffy's hands– a fresh request from Emperor Linlin looking for another food based devil fruit.

The letter would make the perfect excuse to check on Doffy, too. He pined so much when Corazon was away, becoming even more needy, and irritable, than usual. Of course, the rest of them, Trebol he felt especially, were always happy to fill in to lift his spirits. Even if they were all a lot busier than in the old days.

Heading out of the office Trebol had the letter in his pocket and his mind on a game of cards, a bottle of wine and perhaps a couple of back massages, when he heard yelling and chaos. That in itself wasn't terribly unusual– it was a busy compound and there were a lot of personality clashes– but then he heard Doffy yelling too.

Trebol hated running.

He sprinted down the corridor anyway.

-

Doflamingo was half collapsed across the long sofa in the parlor, a bottle of wine in one hand and a cheap pulp binding of the last year of Sora comics in the other. 

Even a year later it was still strange to be back in the North Blue after more than a decade at sea, and almost as long on the Grand Line. Spider Miles reminded Doffy strongly of the old cannery island where they'd first set out to become pirates rather than common gangsters. That made it all the stranger and more empty with Vergo not there, even if there were so many more people than just the five of them now.

Doffy was trying not to brood. He really was. He was trying to distract himself any way he could. With the booze. With the comics. But none of it was working. He heaved a great ragged sigh and tossed the book on the couch, downing the last of the wine.

Sora comics, admittedly, were probably a poor choice, since they were always Vergo's favorite. Hell, Doffy was pretty sure they were half the reason he'd suggested it be him who infiltrated the marines in the first place.

He needed to find some other way to occupy himself. Like a jerky scarecrow he stood and dusted himself off, straightened his askew tie and stalked out of the room. Around now Diamante and Pica should be out in the training yard with the new little Donquixotes. Doffy smiled to think of it, shoving his hands in his pockets as he strolled out toward the yard. 

They'd taken in a dozen or so orphans and street rats when they'd arrived on Spider Miles, and collected a few more in other places and besides. Any kid who was hungry, or unwanted and didn't balk at a life of crime was welcome in Doffy's family. It pleased him greatly to open his doors to lost and lonely children; children who were like himself before his real family had found him and taken him in. 

And like Trebol, Diamante, Pica and Corazon had helped Doflamingo find his strength and understand the ways of the world, Doffy was happy to educate the youth of Spider Miles. To welcome them into his family, and raise them up to help him bring the world down.

He stood at the edge of the training yard– a large area of soft earth demarcated by stones full of training dummies and targets. Just as Doffy had thought, Pica and Dia were demonstrating swordplay techniques to a half dozen of the kids, and Dia, of course, was making a show of it.

"So when the opponent comes at you like this," Dia said, as Pica slashed at him forcefully. "You do this."

Pica's sword started to wiggle like a piece of cloth, sending him immediately off balance as his strike failed to land. He turned and gave Dia a sour face. Doflamingo giggled, watching as the kids tried to figure out how to respond. Some of them laughed. Some of them looked perturbed.

One of them raised their hand. "Mr. Diamante, sir, we can't do that."

Dia play acted as if the thought had never occurred to him, slapping his chin in surprise. "No? Well fuck! Guess you're gonna have to do something else then, eh? Here, try this instead. Pica?"

"Gonna do it right this time?" Pica murmured, his nose wrinkling under his helmet.

Doflamingo watched, smiling broadly as they demonstrated the actual technique a couple of times, and then paired the kids up with dulled blades to try it on each other. As the two of them observed the kids progress, Doffy ducked out from under the eaves of the complex, and into the yard proper.

"You have a real way with kids, Dia."

Diamante laughed and waved his hands in protest. "Who, me? No way."

"Absolutely you. They love you." Doffy waved his hand at some of the kids who had laughed, and one of them, who was gawking at the 'young master' missed his parry and toppled to the ground when he was hit in the chest.

"I wouldn't say love," Dia protested. Pica rolled his eyes and helped the kid up, quietly instructing him not to lose his focus.

Doffy chuckled. "Fine, fine, they hate you, then."

"Well I wouldn't say that either!" Diamante laughed and clapped him across the back. "Alright, I have a way with kids, if you say so."

"Good man," Doffy nodded, and turned his gaze to the kids as they practiced. "Is it just me, or are there a few more?"

Pica nodded as he shuffled over to stand with them. "Word's getting around, Doffy. More of them keep showing up."

"Good!" Doffy crowed. He threw an arm around each of his companions. "Wonderful! We have plenty of room, and plenty of need to swell our armies, don't we? I can already tell they'll grow up strong, thanks to you two."

"Aw, Doffy." Diamante tipped up his hat, flushing, and Doffy felt Pica's skin growing warm under his touch too, as he murmured his thanks.

"Makes me nostalgic for when we were kids," Doffy said, leaning on Dia's shoulder. "Running around making a nuisance in the North Blue underground."

It was easy to be nostalgic about, really. It had been a kind of honeymoon period, a long beautiful stretch of time where he finally felt safe and loved after the loss of his home, the death of his mother, and the horrors of the mob. It was the time when they'd all come together as a family, when Doffy had found people he could rely on, people he could trust, and who adored him, after the loss of his blood family.

And of course, it had also been the time when he'd learned true freedom.The only true freedom there is– the freedom of a criminal and an outcast. Freedom, crime, and love, that's what that time was to him. He hoped that these kids would be able to look back on their own training with the same kind of fondness.

"Ha! Guess you're right," Dia nodded. "Well, here we are again, only a whole lot bigger and badder, right?"

Doffy was about to answer when he was interrupted by a soft cough from nearby. He turned and found the person who had evidently been standing politely in his blind spot. Mr. Pink, with his swept back hair and carefully tailored suit. 

He bowed his head when Doffy gave him his attention. "Young master, sir."

Pink was in Dia's army, and Doffy let the hierarchy hold, merely inclining his chin when Pink addressed him.

Diamante cocked his head. "Hey, Pink, what's up, man?"

"There's a man at the door sir. Or really, he's on the doorstep. Collapsed."

That was unusual, but not unheard of. It was more than just children who showed up at the door having heard of the Donquixote family's welcoming spirit. What was unusual was why they were hearing about it.

"Did he say who he was?" Dia asked.

"No, sir, he hasn't said a word, but he gave me this."

Pink took a folded note out of his pocket and unfolded it, showing it to Doffy and the other two executives.

In unfamiliar handwriting it said:

Looking for my brother Doffy.

The next thing Doflamingo knew, he was in the hallway running toward the front door. His body had started running without a single bit of input from his higher brain. As he struggled to take stock of what was happening– it couldn't really be Rosi, Rosi was dead!-- he realized that Pica and Diamante and Pink and the entire gaggle of children from the training yard were following after him, jabbering and shouting.

"Stay put!" Doflamingo yelled, taking a long breath and forcing himself to stumble into a more dignified stride. 

He didn't really feel like having a scene at the door when he had to kill some imposter pretending to be his brother. They could deal with the corpse afterward.

The children and Pink obeyed him without thinking. Pica and Dia he was sure were exchanging glances and trying to decide what was best. Doffy ignored them and strode regally to where the front door of the complex was wide open.

Sure enough there was a man collapsed across the front steps. 

He was very tall and narrow, lanky, with a mop of wavy blond hair covering his face. His roughspun clothes were ragged, and there were damp patches of dark blood here and there.

Doflamingo's heart stopped.

It couldn't be. 

It couldn't be. 

Rosi was dead. 

Rosi had to be dead. 

Rosi had to be dead or else he had been alone for all these years.

Doffy felt like he was watching himself from outside his own body as he knelt down and carefully scooped the man's torso into his arms, brushing the damp hair out of his face. 

The face of a heavenly creature looked back at him. 

The soft, gentle face that still plagued his nightmares. Beaten, bruised and bloody– just like the night that they'd been saved from the mob. It was that night all over again. It was like seeing a ghost. If it had been a child instead of a man, Doffy would have thought that it was a ghost.

It still felt like it must be.

Doflamingo had frozen. He realized all at once that he had forgotten to breathe. He took a great, rushing gulp of air and strangled out a word. "Rosi?"

The man, who had been still until now, looked up and opened his eyes. His beautiful amber eyes. There was a hint of scarring under one of them– just a trace– and like Doffy's, this man's eyebrows had been erased away by the heat of a fire.

Rosinante reached up and put his hand on his brother's face.

-

Trebol forced his way past Dia and Pica and into the doorway to see what the hell all the commotion was about.

There was a vagabond, beaten and bloody, laying there on their front steps, and the young master was cradling him in his arms like a child holding a wounded bird.

"Doffy?"

Doflamingo looked up at him, his lips parted and trembling. He answered with a trace of an accent that Trebol hadn't heard from him in years.

"My brother has come home."

Trebol's blood ran cold.

[fanaticsnail]

Yandere Doffy anon here with more stuff!

First, ouch to that dialogue you wrote when Doflamingo tells Reader he killed Rosinante without really telling her. That wine drinking while sobbing GIF is accurate. My heart broke when Reader called Corazon her brother-in-law. 🥹🥹😭😭 Gosh, Corazon would be the best brother-in-law.

Regarding the three ways it could go for Reader's behaviour, I mean... All of them are great. All of them can be their own fics. I think since Reader is a princess she may be a bit naive as in the 1st possibility you wrote down, I really like that one. 🥹 I think it can then become Reader slowly becoming aware of all the shit he does but hell... you're stuck with him, it's till death do you part. Anyway 1st option is nice and 3rd is great and 2nd is great, you know what, just write fics for them all, I'll read them all! 😂

All of them are great.

I think for the Yandere Doffy fic, Reader & Rosi as besties, he loves her and she loves him but not with any budding romantic feelings. They have this deep bond of "we are taking care of the most chaotic crazy man alive" type of thing if it makes sense? Rosi & Reader love each other on a deep non-romantic level, they take care of each other etc etc.

You always have a water bottle somewhere to pour on Corazon when he sets his coat on fire. You remind him to let his tea cool off so he doesn't burn his tongue. When you get ill, Corazon is by your bedside when Doflamingo isn't.

Honestly, you and Rosi act more like siblings than Rosi & Doffy 😂

Okay, now back to Lami meeting Cora, bcs I can't get it out of my head. Law saving Lami, them both making it out, and Law trying to find work at Spider Miles and giving all his food to his little sister (reminds you of someone? It's Little Doffy) and eating bread (which he hates) just so his sister can be healthy. Of course, the work doesn't pay well, and Law gets desparate. We can change his meeting with Donquixote Pirates that he tries to sneak into the base to steal treasure & food (it's go big or go home for Law, he will stop at nothing for his little sister) and Doflamingo catches him and is about to torture him (yikes) but both you and Lami arrive and cue the reunion and you recognising them both and THAT'S how they join the Donquixote Pirates. We can just make it so Lami's disease is, since she is no longer exposed to Flevance's air, not advancing so quickly and she makes it for the next 3 years. And then Cora takes them away. And just... Lami and Cora are the enthusiastic, positive ones, they're playing around, Cora dances with Lami on a festival he takes Lami and Law to, Lami always sits on his coat on his shoulder, she loves Cora-san's coat so much. She thinks Cora-san's power is the coolest thing, too. Law is smiling a bit more with Lami around, hoping at least his sister makes it. If not him, at least his sister. Now imagine both Law & Lami in that treasure chest, gosh, no, nooo 😭😭

Also, Lami would totally braid Doflamingo's hair while he dozes in an armchair. He wonders why everyone is snickering at him and why you're giggling and it takes a while before he goes to the mirror and sees he has multiple ponytails in his hair. Extra cuteness if Baby 5 helped Lami, too. Anyway, I also think Lami would join Cora in shoving the Op-Op Fruit into Law's mouth. Law would want Lami to take it but Lami goes girlboss and holds her brother down so Cora can feed him the Op-Op Fruit while Law struggles and kicks. Just normal sibling thing to do. Also, she'd bite Vergo. Or kick him where the sun doesn't shine.

Aaand now I want to write a full fic of Cora's journey with Law & Lami. Dammit. 😭 I do think Doffy will be softer with Lami than with Law? Who knows. I like to think Doffy is a girl dad deep down in his heart (points to Baby 5). Good thing Law & Lami left cus no way would she have a boyfriend. Questionable if Law scares away a lot of her suitors when they're adults, too 😂 Lami, my baby, she deserved better 😭

And to break your heart...

"Hey, Law, Lami!"

The two children turned to Cora-san, and gawked at the man's big, goofy smile.

"I love you!"

Brb, gonna go cry. 😭

Sending love to you, Snail. Sorry for the angst. I just love Lami ❤️

I have no idea how long this has been in my ask box, but this is just the best angst to go to sleep with. I am crying, you're crying, we're all crying.

Yandere Doffy Anon, you spoil me.

[gendervapor14]

(update from previous ask — gotta send numbers for each hang on)

2, 12, 18, and 21 for crocodile!! and 2, 22, and 25 for doffy ✨

(here is the previous ask)

sweating and trembling. you want ME to answer things about crocodile and doflamingo??? okay let's do this

CROCODILE

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

i love how he punches holes through his newspapers with his hook. so uncalled for. you could totally just balance the pages between the curve and point but no, he has zero chill, he's gonna fuck up this newspaper so no one else can read it afterwards.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

i think he has a special interest/connection with animals. a lot of animals feature in baroque works, especially his lovely bananawanis. animals are easy to trust and difficult to hold grudges against, so maybe their presence gives him some peace of mind? he seems to have no issues disposing of his human agents if they fail him, but i like to think he's more forgiving with animals.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

i'm a sucker for a devoted second-hand, (cough cough vergo) so i'm gonna go ahead and say daz bones and crocodile. i love how daz seems to be the exception to his cruel-streak. they're both there for each other and it's warms my heart. also gonna rec this fic real quick because the daz & croc relationship is so good...

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

oh. this is tough. in general i enjoy crocodile's ability to deadpan his way through a comedic situation? especially since he's frequently in the company of rosinante when i write him XD so yeah i enjoy making him very serious or slightly annoyed when there's some sort of ridiculous situation. something i don't like is how i never quite feel like i have a grasp on his character 😵 croc i need a backstory for you so badly... it's killing me...

DOFLAMINGO

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

so many things. i think for now, i'll say my favorite thing is how he seems to love sitting incorrectly. in warlord meetings, he's always got his ass perched on the back part of the chair, and his feet are in the seat. provided he isn't sitting on the table!! he likes to sit on those too. also people. loves to sit on people. think he used king riku as a footstool at one point.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

i'm actually really picky about how doflamingo is written. i don't read much about him unless i'm familiar with the writer. i'm not a huge fan of the manic-pixie-girl coked-up-to-the-moon mingo (although i do think that's a funny style at times) also not a fan of the stories where he's just used as The Big Bad to make someone (law) suffer for the sake of whump. i love fics where he's got some crackhead energy, but not TOO much, yknow. he's quite intelligent and very diligent with his schemes, so a lot of the more comedic/brutal takes on his character make his intelligence less believable.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

OH i love this question. my first impression was the warlord meeting i think? i was fascinated. loved his character design (rip black V neck shirt. why couldn't he wear that for dressrosa. the white open shirt was Not doing him any favors) i thought he was just gonna be some Quirky crazy bastard, and he is! but when i saw dressrosa, specifically the backstory at spider miles, my brain opened up. his backstory, the brother trauma, how he spent his early life... it wasn't what i was expecting and i found him much more compelling with all that depth. that's probably why i tend to write him like more of a sleazy business man, spider miles mingo stuck in my brain XD

thank you for these questions!! ♥ so much good thinking for the sleepy brain muscles XD

[enruiinas]

@ncfertari sent:

        what If you could go back in time at one event to change it would you and why? (Send me ‘What If’ scenarios for my muse to answer. // accepting!)

        tw: dark/morbid/bleak line of thinking ahead. (not quite a self-harm or suicide mention, but explores themes of regret and survivor's guilt.)

        This is a complicated question for Law. There are a lot of moments (both in his life specifically as well as the world around him) that Law would like to change in theory. The discovery of white lead in the first place (the substance, not the subsequent disease), giving Rosinante's missive to Vergo, perhaps the rage that had driven him to Spider Miles & joining the Donquixote family in the first place... These are all things he'd consider off the top of his head, but there are flaws to all of them.

        If it were for his own sake alone that changing the course of Flevance's history might affect, he wouldn't care so much, but there's no way of knowing how the town not gaining its fame and fortune through white lead might have affected his family's lives. He wishes like hell he'd given Rosinante's missive to anyone else. At times throughout the years, he's found himself thinking it would have been better if Corazon hadn't taken an interest in finding a cure for him at all. But he can't say he'd save him above saving his own family, and they can't be saved in a single moment, so ultimately, I think if Law could change one moment only, he would have stayed with Lami the night the hospital burned.

        It wouldn't have saved her, but he would have been with his family. He would never have met Corazon or Wolf or Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi, but he wouldn't have known he was missing anything: nobody would. A lot of bad that happened after that moment might not have happened at all, and he wouldn't have left his sister to die alone. The world would have gone on, and he wouldn't have been left alone wondering why he'd been the only one to survive and regretting leaving Lami behind.

[nehswritesstuffs]

banish every gaslight; let clarity shine - Part 2

I feel like a little gremlin posting this already, but meh whatever.

Part 1 [FFN/AO3]

Doflamingo makes sure his Elite Officers are prepared, while Viola makes a chilling discovery via an unlikely ally. [2632 words; AU where there is a Third Corazón, whose very existence makes Law’s life hell]

Antonia knew she was dreaming as she sat at the kitchen table, her father sitting across from her as her mother was at the stove. It was a rare day when her father was not working during dinnertime, having come home early for a change.

“What is it that you do for work, Papa?” she asked curiously. Her father, lacking the signature makeup he would later be known for, paused to think.

“It’s difficult to explain unless you know a lot of things,” he nodded. “I can explain it, once you’ve been to school for a few years, but for now, you can know that I work in an office.”

“Oh… okay…”

“You’re making her sad,” her mother chided gently. She put plates down in front of Antonia and Papa, her face blurred and out-of-focus. “Even if she doesn’t understand yet, she can know what it is you do.”

“Fine,” Papa whined dramatically, giving Antonia a sly wink. She giggled quietly as Mama got her own plate and sat down. “You see, it’s—”

A low rumble cut Papa off, making him and Mama both put their forks down.

“What’s that…?” Antonia wondered. She watched as her parents exchanged worried looks, not knowing what it meant. “Mama…? Papa…?”

“I’m going to take a look,” Mama said. Papa put his hand on hers, but she stood up anyhow. She went into the other room and looked out the window…

DO-DON

The adult Antonia woke up with a gasp, a sickening shiver wracking her entire body. She grabbed at her chest and tried to breathe, the action difficult as her panic refused to leave, instead settling in as it had so many times before. Trembling, she held herself steady on the couch as she attempted to breathe—in, hold, out—in, hold, out—in, hold, out—ignoring the blood pounding in her ears and how dizzy she felt.

It had been a long time since she had dreamt of the day her mother died, and part of her wondered why she needed a relapse right then and there. That day had been such a blur, with her father taking her from their country that had been plunged into war and brought her to Uncle Doffy’s place in Spider Miles. Papa and Uncle Doffy had been estranged from fighting before then, but when he saw her, his face lit up, and he immediately made her father Corazón.

She could barely remember back then—it had only been bits and pieces due to how young she was—so why of all things to remember from when she was five years old, it was watching her mother get blown apart by a mortar?

Breathing and heart rate finally leveled out, Antonia carefully stood and tested her balance—normal. She looked at the clock and saw that she overslept; a couple more minutes and it would be time for the Elite Officers meeting. After checking herself in the mirror and putting on her boots, cloak, and mask, she left her room and headed towards the Hall of Suites, stepping foot inside just as the minute arrived.

“You’re late, girl,” Trebol sniffed sourly. Sure enough, she had been the only one missing.

“I am on time, as you often fail to notice,” she sniped. Antonia took the seat of her birthright and became Corazón, proud that the tall back showed the Heart design that put her above the others. She looked at her uncle as he stood on the other side of the hall. “Why such a gathering, Joker?”

“We need to be on high alert,” he said. “I have reason to believe that Trafalgar Law is coming towards our lovely little chateau, complete with a housewarming present.”

“Your source is positive that he’s coming?” Diamante frowned.

“Fufufu, of course. Buffalo is too stupid to lie about a thing like that, and Law himself confirmed it. He thinks he’s being cute, claiming he has Cesar Clown hostage.”

“I thought Vergo was monitoring Punk Hazard,” Corazón noted. “Why would he let a deserter like Trafalgar take custody of him?”

“Vergo and Monet are both dead,” Joker said, the grin vanishing from his face. “He’s made an alliance with some upstarts from his Generation, thinking he can pressure me into giving up the throne and my Warlord status by dangling that little shit in front of me.”

The Hall went quiet. Trafalgar being out in the wild with no contact had definitely been a wild card, but none of them had designs as to how that card would be played. This had to be a bluff…

“Who has he allied with?” Corazón wondered.

“The Straw Hat Pirates, it seems,” Joker replied. “A little rubber freak and his adequately small-time buddies… I doubt they’ll be of much use compared to his normal crew.”

“How do you want us to proceed?” Pica asked.

“Indeed,” Diamante added. “There is the tournament to think about, Young Master.”

“The tournament continues as normal,” Joker said, waving a hand dismissively. “Tighten security, but do so discreetly. That’s still bait and plenty of upstarts and desperate has-beens are going to want a crack at it.”

“As you wish,” Diamante nodded.

“Then I shall stay with Sugar at her post,” Trebol added. “She is going to need to be in top form for the tournament, especially if the wayward brat is coming back home.”

“Then you, my darling Corazón,” Joker grinned, mirth returning to his voice, “are going to do what you do best.”

Keep the Organization beating and full of life.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Your tears are sincere, my dear; when you asked me to kill a man, those tears, your emotions… they were genuine.”

Viola huffed and her subordinates laughed. They currently were trying to beat information out of a member of the Straw Hat Pirates, the blond pervert taken in by the Donquixote Officer’s beauty.

“I know what you must be here for—to take on Doffy and pin the blame elsewhere.”

“Except, I know the tears of a woman, and you are a woman who wishes to be free of this life,” the blond crooned. Viola looked at her subordinates as they chuckled.

“Didn’t think we’d see one like him again for a while,” one said.

“No kidding—his simp game is stupid,” said another. “Shall we dispose of him, ma’am?”

“I don’t know…” She went and kicked the pirate in the face without warning, knocking him back a few feet so that he lay splayed out before her. Putting her thumb and forefinger together, she activated her Devil Fruit ability, beginning to look deep into the man’s soul. “I wonder what sort of trivialities I’ll find here…”

…except, as Viola scoured his mind, all she saw was as the blond said: he was in awe and wonder at her beauty, was in love with her fiery soul, and was ready to lay down his life if it meant she was able to live without fear or pain. She gasped, her chest feeling tight; his intentions might have involved lecherous leanings, but he was the genuine article…

“A million people of good standing could denounce you and I would still never doubt your tears.”

Viola was almost gasping for breath as his genuine convictions almost suffocated her. If this was the type of man that Law allowed himself to be allied with, then there was no way she could kill him.

Els mares siguin maleïts… if she was wrong about this…

“Hierro Lágrima… MEKUJIRA!”

It took only mere moments for Viola to take out the men assigned to her with her Devil Fruit, summoning giant whales made of tears. They all were knocked unconscious and she breathed a sigh of relief, resting long enough to get her bearings before slinging one of the blond’s arms over her shoulder.

“Quickly, before they wake,” she ordered. The blond seemed to be in a daze as he was hauled out of the warehouse and off to where Viola could help clean him up. “We need to get you out of here.”

“My crew goes when our captain says so,” he replied. She cringed at that admission.

“You have Law amongst your numbers, and he needs to fall back so we can parley with him,” she explained. She found a crate to sit him on while she began wiping his face with a handkerchief. “If anything is going to go right then he needs to work with those of us who can get him to the Corazón…”

“Wait… you’d help him kill the Corazón…?” he wondered, completely confused.

“…wait… you mean… he’s not here to rescue her…?” He shook his head at that and she cussed under her breath. “Why… why would he want to kill her…?”

“…to be thorough…?”

Viola stopped cleaning the blond’s face and stared at him, eyes wide in shock. “What…?”

“He… uh… wants to kill the Elite Officers if he at all can,” he explained. “That includes Corazón, even though he doesn’t know her.”

“…but… he does…” A weight seemed to drop in her stomach. “Oh no… I have to contact someone! Do you have a transponder snail?!”

“Yes, but I…!”

“I need to contact the Corazón’s subordinate,” Viola stated, “or else someone very important to Law is going to die and I promised I wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

That, honestly, was all the convincing the blond needed.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“This place sure is something,” Franky muttered as he sat down on some of the coliseum’s bench seating. Thunder Soldier slid in next to him, trying to keep a low profile.

“Blood sports often are,” the toy mused sourly. It scanned the crowd, pensive. “Do you really think that the boy can win?”

“Tch, yeah, I’d put money on him every day of the week,” Franky scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. He understood why someone would be wary of Luffy’s abilities at first glance. “You’ve never seen the kid in action—he’s the real deal.”

“He needs to be if he’s going to make it far,” Thunder Soldier replied. The entire stadium then hushed as someone walked out onto the battle arena.

“It’s the princeseta!” someone gasped.

“Princess Antonia?!”

“As if this couldn’t get any better!”

“Wow! A member of the royal family!”

“Whoever wins this tournament is going to be truly favored!”

“Princess…?” Franky wondered. He allowed his eyes to zoom in on the person on the battlefield, ignoring the blurry image of her on the giant snail-screens. She was dressed in an elegant pale pink blouse with hearts on it, as well as the sort of tailored slacks one would see in a high-profile business meeting. Her bronzed skin suggested plenty of recreational time outdoors, which was only complimented by her light-brown, wavy, shoulder-length hair.

“That is Princess Antonia,” Thunder Soldier said, voice deflated. “She is the pride and joy of the Donquixote Family and all of Dressrosa. Her late father was Doflamingo’s younger brother.”

“So the rumor goes.” Franky continued to stare, hoping that no one would realize what he was doing; the fact he was able to get in as a toy was a great cover so far and he didn’t want the resulting anonymity ruined so quickly. “I’ve been led to believe that she’s not entirely what she seems.”

“Correct,” Thunder Soldier said. “She is honestly the most ruthless of the Donquixote Generals, working with only one subordinate under her command. Without her, even if they were capable in their own rights, the Family would have a much tougher time keeping a hold on things.”

“I take it the little sis is a super PR machine?”

“In more ways than one.” The princess opened the tournament with pithy platitudes and the crowd roared in admiration; it was a true love for their monarch. “Just remember: she is a victim too, even though she does not know it.”

“How is she Donquixote’s most ruthless general, but still a victim?”

“…because there is a goodness in her that has not been entirely quashed by the king’s plot, and I have on good faith that underneath it all, she is still a scared little girl who doesn’t truly know what has happened over the past ten years.”

“I hope you’re right there, brother,” Franky said. He watched as Antonia waved to the crowd with a billion-watt smile, clearly in her element. “She’s just a kid—I don’t want to hurt a kid if I don’t gotta.”

“With any luck,” Thunder Soldier sighed, “we won’t.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Slipping back into the entrance tunnel, Antonia saw Diamante leaned casually up against the wall, glaring at her.

“What…?” she asked.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “What about you makes them go crazy like that? You’re not opening an orphanage or off to some diplomatic mission…”

“They know that I’m one of the strongest people here, that’s why,” she replied. The sounds of A Block getting into place was muffled by the stone around them. “They know I’m next in line.”

“…for an accident of birth.”

“…and what if it is…?” she shrugged. “I am the greatest Corazón to have ever claimed the seat, and I am their wonderful and loving princess all the while. It’s the perfect dichotomy.”

“How long can you keep it up, though?” he posed. She glared at him, which made him raise his hands in a gesture of false surrender. “All I’m saying is if you’re so tough, why aren’t you fighting for the Mera-Mera?”

“…because as much of an upstart as you think I am, I still know my place,” she fired back. “Now if you excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.” She walked off, knowing that Diamante was staring at her, sizing her up for some future spat, hoping that the day he would be taken out would be at least the day after she was cut down as well.

Then again, it did not matter. All Antonia needed to do was her job.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Law, we need to get out of here,” Sanji hissed into the transponder snail in his hand. It peered at him suspiciously.

“I know it’s a trap,” was the reply. “It’s Doflamingo—at least some part of this is meant to be a trap.”

“You see, that’s the thing: it’s more of a trap than I think any of us anticipated.”

The Den Den narrowed its eyes. “How big?”

“Big enough to where we need to get out of here, now,” Sanji repeated. He glanced over at Viola, who was watching the conversation nervously. “I’ve got Luffy’s bunch, you get the others. Avoid the Elite Officers.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Law reminded him.

“True, but this is something where I think you’re just going to have to trust me.” Sanji ran his free hand through his hair, careful not to expose both eyebrows at once. “I know Luffy can’t follow a plan to save his life, but what I’m talking about is legitimate strategy. We have to fall back.”

“I can’t… not when we’re so close.”

“Fuck your martyr complex, Trafalgar! It’s not going to work! We! Need! To! Fall! Back!”

“Have fun.” At that, the Den Den went to sleep, making Sanji want to throw the poor snail down the alley’s length.

“That fucking idiot!” he hissed. He looked at Viola and frowned, trying to rein in his emotions. He needed to be calm now—this was the time he needed to have his head the clearest. “I’m going to extract them.”

“Then while you do that, I’ll try to take care of my end,” Viola nodded. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Sanji’s cheek, making the blond blush intensely. “Good luck.”

...because of the amount of blood he was losing? He was going to need it.

[dr-originalsin]

Angel’s Hair or Spider’s Web | Haruko | Trial 2.4 | Re: Kaguya

“It’s a hard thing to take a life, isn’t it Kaguya. You think you’re doing the right thing yet it seems that it guts you. Rips you apart and shreds your innards.” Does Kaguya feel like less of a person now, or is it another lie?

Haruko doesn’t look with pity to Kaguya, but regret instead. “At the same time Kaguya. You always had another option. You could have asked someone to take your life. Yet selfishly you still wanted to live. That’s not a judgement I might add, just a statement. That’s the same reason they’re all going to vote for you. Selfishly, they all want to live too. So long as they hold an attachment to their lives, they will vote your name. A small chance that they would die instead is still a small chance that they will die.”

Haruko makes the consideration for a moment. Thinking back to her conversation with Vergo. Not everyone can get out of here alive. It’s such a small chance. There’s really no certainty….

Fuck.

Is this guilt? Her alliance? It can’t be guilt, she doesn’t FEEL guilty. She never has. So why now does she feel like doing this? “I still don’t know how I’ll vote. I want to believe you, that this could work, but believing lies led me down a bad path last trial. Following you, in a literal sense, cost Takumi his life. He didn’t deserve that. If I did both now, well…. Fool me twice right?”

Yet she’s still uncertain…

[vividscavenger]

Some couples enjoying married life

Occulus, Vergo, and Kasper belong to @penthousedragon

[bultun-and-friends]

Some cute couples to help me feel better

Tsubaki and Hansuke

Davis and Kasper

Vitaly and Vergo

Hansuke, Kasper, and Vergo all belong to @penthousedragon

[doffysbirb]

Swan's Dance

Synopsis: Three years after everything, Valerie hones her Vine-Vine Fruit skills amid the Donquixote Pirates' tense dealings. A battle on a rugged island tests their resolve, leading to a moonlit waltz in a ruined mansion that deepens their bond, setting the stage for a challenging future. Warnings: Violence, Implied Tension, Mild Physical Contact, Suggestive Themes, Doflamingo Slightly OOC Please read at your discretion. One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. Valerie is my OC, created for non-commercial fanwork.

🌹➡ Previous ⋮ Masterlist

Three years had slipped by, the Donquixote Pirates settled back into their rugged base in Spider Miles, its stone walls reverberating with the clatter of illicit trade. The midday sun pierced through cracked windows, casting jagged shadows across the dimly lit war room, where Valerie, now eighteen, stood with a quiet confidence. Her Vine-Vine Fruit powers had steadied, her vines coiling with precision as she secured a crate of smuggled weapons for negotiation. Over the years, Doflamingo, now twenty, had grown accustomed to touching her more often—carrying her over rough terrain, steadying her with a hand on her back, or brushing her arm during tense moments—gestures that had become second nature after Diamante’s relentless efforts to nudge their bond. Yet, Diamante’s smirks remained a constant undercurrent. The crew moved with purpose—Trebol slithering with a ledger stained with ink, Pica hauling crates of arms, and Vergo overseeing with a stern, unyielding gaze.

Valerie adjusted a vine, wrapping it tightly around a crate of rifles, her focus sharp. “Still mastering it, but it’s steady now,” she murmured, her voice steady as she inspected the cold steel. Across the room, Diamante lounged against a table, twirling a dagger with a sly grin. “Nice grip, sweetheart,” he called, his eyes flicking toward Doflamingo, who sat at the head of the table, his feather coat draped over the chair, his red-tinted lenses fixed on a map with a distant, troubled stare. He’s been off since we returned, she thought, noting his silence amid the tense negotiations.

A group of jittery arms dealers shuffled in, their nervous glances darting across the room, hands clutching satchels of gold. Trebol slithered forward, his mucus glistening as he slapped a ledger onto the table. “These worms bring their offers—let’s see their steel,” he taunted, his voice a slimy sneer. Pica chirped, shifting a crate of pistols. “Weapons are sharp, but Doffy’s mood’s a storm brewing.” Vergo stepped beside Valerie, his tone calm yet firm. “Keep him steady—he’s distracted. Your word carries weight now. Use it.”

Diamante chuckled, leaning toward the dealers with a mock bow. “Let’s make this deal deadly—push Doffy’s limits while we’re at it,” he suggested, his voice laced with provocation. The air thickened with tension, Valerie’s vines twitching as she watched. Doflamingo’s lips curled into a faint sneer, his voice low and edged with amusement. “Fufufufu, spare me your games, Diamante—secure the terms, or I’ll string you up with their blades.” His gaze lingered on Valerie, a possessive glint flickering, before returning to the map, his fingers tracing a route with restless energy.

The dealers stepped forward, presenting rifles and blades looted from a recent skirmish, their voices trembling as they haggled. Valerie unfurled her vines, lifting a rifle with deliberate care, her tone firm. “This loot’s worth three times your offer—step up, or we’re out.” The lead dealer swallowed hard, sweat beading on his brow, nodding as he recalculated under her steady gaze. Trebol cackled, “Hey, hey, she’s got fire—Doffy’s pride shines through her!”

Diamante sauntered over, his whisper conspiratorial. “You’re stealing his thunder—keep it up, and he’ll crack.” His smirk widened, his intent a sharp edge. Valerie frowned, her vines coiling tighter. “I’m here to help, not provoke,” she retorted, her voice steady but laced with irritation, her vines brushing the crate as a subtle warning.

Doflamingo’s head turned, catching the exchange, his lenses narrowing, jealousy flaring anew beneath his composure. He rose, his presence silencing the room, the air crackling with his authority. “Enough chatter,” he snapped, his tone a low growl. “Valerie, finalize the deal.” His eyes softened toward her, a flicker of reliance beneath the sternness, before he sat back, the crew’s murmurs rising with a hint of unease as Diamante’s smirk lingered.

The negotiation wrapped up, the dealers departing with signed contracts, their relief a stark contrast to the room’s tension. Valerie adjusted a vine, her mind racing. He’s relying on me, but something’s breaking, she thought, her resolve hardening. The war room fell into a tense quiet, the clink of weapons and rustle of maps a faint echo of the storm brewing within Doflamingo.

The evening deepened over the Spider Miles base, the war room’s dim light flickering as the last rays of sunlight faded, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Valerie lingered after the morning’s negotiation, her Vine-Vine Fruit powers steady as she double-checked the secured weapons deal. Her vines uncoiled from the crates of rifles and blades, ensuring each lock held firm, the cold steel a testament to her role in the crew’s success. The air carried the faint tang of gun oil and a growing tension, the crew’s earlier bustle giving way to an uneasy quiet. Yet, Diamante’s taunts from the deal still echoed, his smirk a lingering challenge to Doflamingo whose brooding silence had deepened.

Valerie adjusted a vine, tightening a strap on a crate, her focus sharp. “All secure,” she murmured, her voice steady as she reviewed the contracts signed by the jittery arms dealers. The room was still, save for the occasional rustle of maps and the distant clank of Pica moving supplies. Her mind drifted to Doflamingo’s distant demeanor during the negotiation, his gaze lingering on her with a mix of reliance and unease. He’s hiding something, she thought, her vines twitching with a flicker of concern.

Footsteps approached, deliberate yet heavy—Vergo entered, his stoic face etched with a rare frown, his voice low and grave. “Doffy’s been in his room ever since we made that deal, refusing to leave,” he said, his tone thick with worry. “We haven’t gone out to sea for days—go check on him. He might listen to you.” His gaze held a silent plea, hinting at Doflamingo’s uncharacteristic withdrawal, his usually commanding presence absent.

Valerie nodded, her vines retracting as she left the war room, her unease growing with each step toward his quarters. The corridor was dim, the air heavy with silence as she reached his door. She knocked softly, the sound echoing faintly. “Go away,” came Doflamingo’s gruff voice, thick with irritation, unaware of her presence. She hesitated, then called out, “It’s me, Valerie.” The door creaked open, his tone shifting to a reluctant warmth. “Come in.”

Inside, the room was shrouded in shadow, the heavy curtains drawn against the evening gloom. Doflamingo sat on the edge of his bed, his black dress shirt and feather coat disregarded, leaving his muscular frame exposed, his red-tinted lenses glinting with a weary edge. Valerie’s breath caught, a flush creeping up her neck at the sight, yet she stepped forward, her concern overriding her fluster. “What’s wrong, Doffy?” she asked, her voice gentle but firm. She reached out, her hand brushing his forehead to check for fever, her touch tentative yet caring.

Doflamingo’s hand rose swiftly, capturing hers and pressing it to his cheek, a familiar gesture as his eyes closed, savoring her touch with a rare hunger surfacing. Even this comfort feels distant after days apart, he thought, the weight of isolation pressing down after days of seclusion. Valerie gasped as he gently bit her palm, a playful yet possessive nip that sent a shiver up her spine. Flowers sprouted from her hair, their petals trembling, her face flushing with flustered surprise. “Doffy, what—!” she stammered, her vines twitching in response.

Before she could pull away, he wrapped his arms around her, his head resting against her chest, the embrace intimate as he sought solace in her warmth. “Stay,” he murmured, his voice raw, his grip tightening as he drew her closer. Valerie’s heart raced, her face burning as she squirmed slightly.

With a sudden tug, he pulled her onto the bed, the flowers from her hair scattering across the sheets as she landed atop him with a startled yelp, his strength overwhelming yet gentle. She remained on top, her breath quickening as his hands rested on her waist, his chuckle soft and teasing. “Sleep with me,” he said, his tone a blend of command and plea, his lenses softening. She’s my anchor in this chaos, he mused, the weight of his past and the stalled sea journey pressing down.

Valerie tensed, her mind spinning from the sudden intimacy, a flush igniting her cheeks as she misread his intent, her eyes widening in alarm. “W-wait, Doffy, you don’t mean—!” she gasped, delicate flowers sprouting anew from her hair, their petals quivering with her rising panic. Doflamingo’s smirk widened, a low “Fufufufu” escaping him as he tilted his head, his gaze darkening with a predatory edge. “Relax, little flower—I meant rest, not ravish, though you tempt me to reconsider,” he teased, his voice a velvet threat laced with amusement, his possessive warmth surging.

In a swift motion, he pinned her hands above her head against the bed, his strength unyielding yet restrained, his body hovering over hers. Valerie’s breath hitched, her vines flaring in shock as her heart raced, the flowers trembling wildly. “D-Doffy, what are you—!” she choked out, her voice a shaky mix of fear and confusion, her body tensing beneath his hold. He leaned closer, his face nearing her neck, his breath warm as he inhaled her scent—a faint mix of sea salt and floral essence—his tongue grazing her skin with a slow, deliberate lick before he gently bit down, a possessive nip that sent a shiver through her. His lips lingered, sucking gently on her neck, one hand still pinning her wrists while his other slid down to caress her thigh, his touch firm yet exploratory as he continued to suck, drawing out the sensation.

Valerie bit her lip hard, suppressing a moan that stirred deep within her as her cheeks burned, the flowers quivering, petals drifting to the sheets. Her vines curled inward as she struggled to steady herself, her body tensing with a mix of resistance and unbidden warmth. “P-please, Doffy, stop—this is too much,” she whispered, her voice trembling with forced resistance, her eyes darting away in embarrassment. Doflamingo pulled back slightly, his smirk softening into a knowing grin, his lenses hiding the storm of his desire as he savored the sight of her flustered state. “Fufufufu, your scent and taste drive me wild, little flower,” he murmured, his tone a husky promise, his eyes glinting with enjoyment at her reaction.

Valerie’s face flushed deeper, the flowers settling as she ducked her head, mortified yet captivated. Sensing his intent, she gathered her courage, her voice breaking through her fluster. “Vergo’s worried—we haven’t been out to sea for days. He thinks something’s wrong since the deal,” she said, her tone urgent yet shaky, her vines calming as she met his gaze, prompting him to pause his advances.

Doflamingo’s expression shifted, the heat in his eyes cooling as he registered her words, his smirk fading into a thoughtful frown. “Let Vergo fret,” he replied, his voice regaining its theatrical edge, though he withdrew his hands, releasing her wrists and thigh. “We’ll go tomorrow—if you stay with me now.” His hand brushed her arm, a possessive yet reassuring gesture, his eyes locking with hers. Valerie hesitated, her vines twitching, then sighed softly. “Fine,” she said, her voice quiet but resolute, settling beside him as the room fell into a tense quiet, the base’s stillness amplifying the storm within him.

The first light of morning crept through the heavy curtains of Doflamingo’s quarters at the Spider Miles base, a soft glow piercing the shadowed room where the air hung still, the faint creak of the base settling the only sound. Doflamingo stirred, his eyes opening to find Valerie asleep beside him, her breathing steady, a quiet anchor after the night’s intensity. He propped himself on an elbow, his gaze tracing the gentle curve of her sleeping face, a rare tenderness softening the hard lines of his features. So peaceful, he thought, the weight of his past momentarily lifted by her closeness. His fingers itched to touch, a longing he rarely acknowledged.

His hand rose, brushing gently against her cheek, the touch light as a whisper, tracing the line of her jaw with a reverence that surprised him. A faint smirk curled his lips as he marveled at her vulnerability, his touch lingering with a possessive warmth. Slowly, his fingertips drifted to her lips, grazing them with a featherlight caress, his breath hitching at the intimacy. Mine to cherish, he mused, the thought stirring a mix of desire and restraint, his control teetering on the edge. Noticing a subtle shift in her breathing, he reached for his red-tinted sunglasses on the bedside table, slipping them on just as her eyes began to flutter open, masking the depth of his gaze.

Valerie stirred, blinking against the dim light, her vines twitching as she registered his presence. “Doffy..?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, a hint of confusion threading through it. Doflamingo leaned back, his smirk widening. “Fufufufu, good morning, little flower,” he said, his voice a silky purr, the sound rolling with approval. “You slept well, I trust? You were quite the vision.”

She sat up, brushing a hand through her hair, her cheeks warming slightly as she noticed the scattered petals from the night before. “I.. yes, I did,” she replied, her voice steadier now, though a flicker of last night’s fluster lingered. “Why were you watching me?”

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, his lenses glinting as he rose from the bed with a fluid grace. “Can’t a king admire his most precious asset?” he quipped, his gaze holding hers with a possessive glint. “You looked too serene to disturb—until now. A rare sight, even for me.” His tone softened, a rare sincerity breaking through the mockery. “But we’ve a day ahead. The crew expects us. Get ready—there’s much to do, and I’ll not have you lagging. Unless, of course,” he added with a smirk, “you’d rather watch me dress—or join me for a shower?” His teasing lingered, a playful challenge in his eyes.

Valerie shook her head fast, her vines calming as she swung her legs off the bed, her cheeks flushing as she stuttered, “R-Right.. I-I’ll be q-quick,” her voice faltering under his teasing gaze. She stood, the morning light catching the scattered flowers, a silent testament to their shared vulnerability. She gathered her resolve, the weight of his smirk lingering as she stepped toward the door, her mind racing. What’s he stirring now? she thought, her heart fluttering with a mix of unease and curiosity.

Later that day, the Numancia Flamingo sliced through the waves, the sea breeze carrying the scent of salt and freedom after days ashore. The crew bustled on deck, securing lines and checking supplies, the mood lighter with the promise of departure. Valerie worked near the railing, her vines coiling to adjust a sail, her focus steady—until Diamante sauntered over, his smirk sharp as a blade, his presence a deliberate intrusion.

“So, did you two do it last night?” he teased, his voice loud enough to draw a few curious glances, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned against the rail.

Valerie froze, a flush rushing to her cheeks as delicate flowers sprouted anew from her hair, their petals trembling with her embarrassment, her mind drifting to Doflamingo’s bold advances from the previous night—his pinning grip, the caress of her thigh, the lingering suck on her neck. She dropped the rope, her vines halting mid-task, her hands clenching. “W-We just slept, that’s all!” she protested, her voice rising slightly, a mix of indignation and mortification coloring her tone as she glared at him.

Diamante laughed, a rich, taunting sound that carried across the deck. “Oh, just slept, eh? Those flowers say otherwise—Uhahaha, Doffy’s got you blooming like a garden!” he jeered, stepping closer with a wink, his amusement fueling the tension.

Trebol slithered up, his mucus glistening, adding to the fray. “Hey, hey, looks like Diamante’s onto something—those petals don’t lie!” he cackled, his tone dripping with mockery as he nudged Pica.

Before Valerie could retort, Doflamingo’s voice cut through the air, a low growl from the helm where he stood, his presence commanding. “Enough, Diamante—mind your tongue, or I’ll silence it with my strings. And you, Trebol, focus on the sails.” His red-tinted lenses narrowed, a possessive edge in his stance, though a flicker of amusement danced in his gaze as he glanced at Valerie’s flowers, his lips twitching with a suppressed smirk.

Vergo, nearby with a map, shook his head, his voice a quiet reprimand. “This nonsense will stir trouble—keep it in check,” he muttered, his stoic expression betraying a hint of exasperation as he watched the exchange unfold.

Valerie ducked her head, the flowers quivering as she resumed her task, her heart pounding with a mix of shame and defiance. He’s defending me.. but that tease stings, she thought, her vines trembling slightly, the deck’s tension a prelude to the day’s unfolding drama. She stole a glance at Doflamingo, his silhouette against the sea a reminder of the morning’s tenderness, her mind wrestling with the shift in their bond.

The ship anchored off a rugged island by midday, its shores jagged with cliffs and dotted with the wreckage of lesser vessels, a haven for rival pirates. The sea churned restlessly, the crew disembarking with a tense readiness, the air thick with the scent of salt and impending battle. Valerie stood at the bow, her Vine-Vine Fruit powers humming with anticipation, her vines coiling like living armor after the morning’s intimacy with Doflamingo. The deal’s success and his withdrawal had set a restless edge, now sharpened by the sight of enemy ships looming ahead. Diamante’s taunts from the deck still lingered, a spark to the powder keg.

Doflamingo strode to the forefront, his feather coat billowing, his red-tinted lenses glinting with a predatory focus. “Fufufufu, looks like we’ve uninvited guests,” he drawled, his voice a silky threat as he cracked his knuckles, strings shimmering at his fingertips. “Let’s remind them who rules these waters.” The crew rallied—Trebol slinging mucus, Pica hefting a massive katana, and Vergo drawing a staff—while Valerie’s vines twitched, ready to prove her worth.

The rival pirates charged from the cliffs, a motley crew wielding cutlasses and muskets, their shouts echoing off the rocks. Valerie reacted instantly, her vines surging forward in a defensive arc, forming a thick green shield that absorbed a volley of bullets aimed at Trebol. The tendrils flexed, splintering the lead shot with a sharp crack, her focus unwavering. “Stay behind me!” she called, her voice firm, guiding the crew into a tighter formation.

Doflamingo laughed, a low “Fufufufu,” as his strings lashed out, slicing through a pirate’s blade. “Impressive, little flower—show them your thorns!” he commanded, his tone laced with pride and possession. Valerie nodded, her vines splitting into offensive strikes, whipping toward an enemy with a hiss. The tendril wrapped around his leg, yanking him off balance before binding his arms, leaving him helpless as Pica crushed him with a single blow.

Another pirate lunged, aiming a musket at Vergo. Valerie’s vines shot upward, coiling into a broad shield that deflected the shot, the impact sending a tremor through her arms. “I’ve got you,” she grunted, her vines holding firm as Vergo nodded curtly, striking the attacker with his staff. Simultaneously, she lashed out with a second vine, its tip sharpening into a thorned edge that pierced an enemy’s shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon with a cry.

Diamante danced into the fray, his steel cape flashing as he parried a cutlass, his smirk wide. “Not bad, sweetheart—let’s see if Doffy’s pet can keep up!” he taunted, his blade clashing with another pirate. Valerie’s vines responded, binding the foe’s legs and tripping him into Diamante’s path, who finished with a flourish. “Flawless teamwork,” he sneered, though his eyes darted to Doflamingo with a challenge.

Doflamingo’s gaze narrowed, his strings weaving a deadly net that ensnared three pirates at once, their screams cut short as he tightened his grip. “Mind your place, Diamante—her strength is mine to wield,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, though a flicker of amusement lingered as he watched Valerie. She pressed forward, her vines splitting again—one shielding Trebol from a musket blast, another binding an enemy’s arms as she yanked him toward Pica’s waiting fist.

The battle raged, the island’s cliffs echoing with clashing steel and cries. Valerie’s vines moved with a dancer’s grace, a shield blooming to protect Vergo from a swinging axe, its tendrils absorbing the blow with a dull thud. She countered with an attack, her vine lashing out to wrap around the axe-wielder’s neck, squeezing until he dropped, gasping. “Keep moving!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos, rallying the crew.

A hulking pirate charged, aiming a cannonball at the group. Valerie’s vines surged, forming a dense barrier that caught the projectile, the impact shaking her stance. Doflamingo’s strings joined hers, reinforcing the shield with a shimmering web, his laugh ringing out. “Fufufufu, a perfect duet—let’s end this!” he declared, his strings slicing the pirate in half as her vines bound his allies, leaving them easy prey for the crew.

The fight dwindled, the rival pirates retreating or felled, their ships burning against the horizon. Valerie panted, her vines retracting, petals from her earlier fluster drifting to the ground. Doflamingo stepped close, his hand brushing her shoulder, his voice low. “You’ve grown, Valerie—my shield, my blade.” His tone carried a possessive warmth, his lenses hiding a storm of emotion.

Diamante wiped his blade, his smirk returning. “A fine show, but Doffy’s still the star—eh, Valerie?” he prodded, his eyes glinting with mischief. Valerie frowned, her vines twitching. “We’re a team,” she replied, her voice steady, though her glance at Doflamingo betrayed a flicker of something deeper.

Trebol slithered over, his mucus dripping. “Those vines saved my hide—Doffy’s got a gem!” he cackled, nudging Pica, who rumbled approval. Vergo approached, his staff resting on his shoulder. “Well fought, but this island’s trouble lingers. Stay sharp,” he warned, his gaze shifting to Doflamingo.

Nightfall draped the island in a velvet shroud, the battle’s echoes fading as the Donquixote Pirates gathered on the beach coast near their ship. The air carried the scent of roasted meat and saltwater, a victory feast ablaze with crackling fires. Vergo carved a slab of boar, Trebol slurped a mug of ale, Pica stacked bones into a tower, and Diamante lounged with a goblet, their laughter a raucous celebration. Doflamingo stood apart, his feather coat billowing in the breeze, his red-tinted lenses glinting as he watched the revelry, a faint smirk masking his restless thoughts. The day’s fight with Valerie had stirred something deeper, a confession clawing at his chest.

Doflamingo’s smirk faded. Her strength binds us, he thought, the confession he’d held back stirring. “Prepare to move,” he ordered, his voice firm, though his eyes lingered on Valerie, the battle’s heat a prelude to the night ahead.

His gaze drifted to the shore, where Valerie stood alone, her silhouette framed against the restless ocean, her vines still from the battle. The starlight caught the faint petals scattered from earlier, a reminder of her closeness. Doflamingo’s lips curled, and he stepped toward her, his presence a quiet storm. “Lost in the waves, little flower?” he asked, his voice a low purr, tinged with curiosity. “You fought well today—my shield, my blade.”

Valerie turned, her vines twitching slightly. “Just thinking,” she replied, her voice soft, the ocean’s murmur echoing her thoughts. “It was intense out there.” She paused, studying him. “You’re not joining them?”

He chuckled, a hint of “Fufufufu” in his throat. “Feasts are for the rabble. I have something else in mind.” His hand extended, a glint of mischief in his lenses. “Come with me—I’ve a surprise waiting.”

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “A surprise? What is it?” she asked, her vines stirring with anticipation.

Doflamingo’s smirk widened, his tone teasing yet firm. “Trust me, and you’ll see. No questions—follow.” His gaze held hers, a silent command laced with promise. Valerie hesitated, then nodded, falling into step beside him as they left the beach, the crew’s cheers fading behind.

Back at the bonfire, Diamante paused, his goblet halfway to his lips, his sharp eyes tracking their departure. “Well, well,” he muttered, turning to the crew with a sly grin. “Looks like Doffy’s finally making his move. Shall we wager on the outcome?” Trebol cackled, “Hey, hey, they could be just a fling!” Vergo smirked faintly, his voice low and measured. “Interesting turn—let’s see where this leads,” he remarked, while Pica laughed, stacking another bone.

Doflamingo guided Valerie through the island’s dense undergrowth, the path winding toward an abandoned mansion half-swallowed by vines and time. Its crumbling facade loomed under the moonlight, windows like hollow eyes, the air thick with the scent of decay and forgotten grandeur. “Where are we?” Valerie asked, her vines twitching as she took in the eerie beauty.

“A relic of the past,” Doflamingo replied, his voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “Perfect for what’s to come.” He pushed open a sagging door, revealing a grand hall, its floor dusted with debris, chandeliers hanging like skeletal remnants. Moonlight streamed through broken panes, casting a silver glow across the space. He turned to her, bowing slightly, his hand outstretched. “Would you care to dance, my swan?” he asked, his tone a velvet invitation.

She raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smile tugging at her lips as she took his hand. “Since when do you waltz, Doffy?” she asked, her tone playful. "This is new."

Doflamingo took the lead, his strings subtly weaving around her waist to ease her stance, lifting her slightly as she rose on her tiptoes, their heights aligning with a graceful adjustment. She held his hand firmly, her other hand resting on his upper arm, their steps echoing in the hall. “Well, you’re not the only one with gifted talent,” he teased, his smirk widening. “Fufufufu, I’ve my secrets.”

She rolled her eyes, her vines twitching lightly. “I was just curious, that’s all,” she said, her voice softening.

“And why do you want to know?” he countered, his gaze locking with hers, the dance pulling them closer.

“Come on, Doffy. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” she replied, her tone carrying a nostalgic warmth, her steps syncing with his.

His laugh deepened, a rare vulnerability seeping through as he drew her nearer, their steps intensifying amid the starlit decay. “Alright,” he said, his voice dipping into a bittersweet cadence. “Our mother taught us—Rosi and me—when we were brats, before we left Mary Geoise. Said it’d make us ‘proper’ Celestial Dragons.” His tone turned bitter, a shadow of Downs’ fall crossing his face. “Didn’t last, but the waltz stuck, like a ghost haunting my steps.”

Valerie’s heart ached, picturing a young Doflamingo and Rosinante, their mother’s lessons a fragile light before the darkness. She tightened her grip on his hand, their waltz growing more fervent, steps tracing a path through the hall’s ruin. “She’d be proud,” she said softly, “seeing you dance like this, making it your own despite everything.”

Doflamingo’s expression softened, his lenses hiding a storm of emotion. “Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice thick with memory. “But it’s you who’s given it new life.” He spun her with a mischievous smile, his strings guiding her into a smooth dip, lowering her toward the cracked floor with a tender hold. Despite her surprised gasp, Valerie’s gaze locked with his, mesmerized by the beauty beneath his sunglasses—the sharp lines of his face, the vulnerability in his eyes.

They stared into each other’s eyes, the moment stretching like hours, the ruined hall fading away. Doflamingo leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a tentative kiss. Valerie froze, taken aback, but melted into it immediately, her lips parting to reciprocate. The kiss deepened, his tongue slipping into her mouth with a possessive yet tender exploration, and with a swift motion, he swept her up into his arm, cradling her against him as their passion ignited for a few heated moments before he pulled back, his breath ragged. Still holding her aloft, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths syncing in the quiet, his hands steady as he supported her weight.

“Valerie,” he began, his voice low and raw, the closeness intensifying its intimacy as he gazed down at her in his arm, “I’ve fought to bury it, but I can’t deny it any longer. I love you—more than power, more than this crew. You’ve woven yourself into my soul, and I’m lost without you.” His confession resonated, the weight of his words reverberating through the mansion’s hollow halls.

Valerie’s eyes widened, her vines twitching as her heart pounded, the warmth of his forehead against hers grounding her despite being cradled in his arm. “Oh, Doffy.. I love you too, always have,” she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin tenderly. “I’ve carried this in my heart since those days we spent together as kids, holding onto the hope of your strength after our past. It’s been a quiet love, hidden beneath our battles and your commands, but it’s grown with every moment we’ve shared—your strength, your pain, all of it. I’m yours, as you are mine.” Her words flowed with a mix of relief and resolve, her vines curling softly around his arm as he lingered in her touch, his eyes closing briefly to savor the warmth of her hand against his face.

Doflamingo nodded, his smirk returning, though his eyes held a new depth, the red-tinted lenses unable to fully mask the vulnerability beneath. “Truth, then,” he agreed, his voice firm yet threaded with a warmth that lingered from their kiss. “But tonight, we dance—our first step as more than allies.” The waltz continued, his arm supporting her as their movements slowed to a gentle sway, the mansion’s ruins framing their newfound bond, the moonlight casting a silver glow over the cracked marble floor.

Cradled in his arm, Valerie leaned into him, her vines curling lightly around his arm, a silent affirmation of her words. “What does this mean for us, Doffy?” she asked, her voice soft but probing, her breath warm against his chest as he held her aloft. “The crew, the life we lead—it’s not exactly built for.. this. And Diamante’s been taunting you with his antics, trying to push you into this confession.”

He paused, his hands steadying her in his grip, his smirk fading into a thoughtful frown, his arm unyielding beneath her. “Fufufufu, you’re right—it’s not,” he admitted, his tone turning serious. “This crew thrives on power, on fear. Love? It’s a weakness they’ll exploit—Diamante’s antics were a calculated jab, and they worked.” His gaze darkened, a flicker of rage at the thought, but he softened as he looked down at her. “Yet, you’ve changed me, Valerie. I can’t ignore that.”

She tilted her head, her eyes searching his from her elevated position. “Changed you how? You’re still the same commanding Doffy—strings and all,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, though her vines twitched with uncertainty as she rested in his hold.

Doflamingo chuckled, the sound low and genuine, his fingers brushing her cheek as he supported her. “True, the strings remain—my crown, my curse,” he said, his voice dipping with bitterness, his arm firm around her. “But you’ve woven something else into me, something softer. I’ve spent years burying my heart under revenge, under Downs’ ashes. You.. you make me want to rebuild, to shape a dominion where destruction serves my will, not just consumes it.” His confession hung heavy, his hand steady against her skin.

Valerie’s breath caught, her vines tightening around his arm as she processed his words. “Rebuild?” she echoed, her voice trembling with hope. “With me? But what about the crew—Trebol and the others? Their reactions could complicate things.”

He pulled her closer in his arm, their dance pausing as he met her gaze, his lenses reflecting the moonlight from above. “Let them try,” he growled, a possessive edge returning, his grip tightening around her. “I’ve ruled with iron, but with you, I’ll forge a dominion where destruction serves our will, strengthening loyalty with love. Trebol and the others may resist, but they’ll fall in line. This is my family now, and you’re its heart.” His voice softened, a rare vulnerability seeping through. “I need you to trust me, to stand with me against whatever comes.”

She nodded, her resolve hardening, though a shadow of doubt lingered. “I do trust you, Doffy,” she said, her voice gaining strength. “But it’s not just about standing with you—it’s about standing as equals. I’ve grown with you, fought with you. I want a say in what we build, not just a place in your shadow.”

Doflamingo’s smirk returned, a mix of pride and challenge. “Equals, eh? Fufufufu, you’ve got spine, little flower,” he teased, his hand cupping her face as he held her. “I’ll grant you that—your voice will shape our future, but know this: my protection is yours, always. The world will see us as one, or they’ll feel our combined wrath.” His tone carried a promise, his fingers tracing her jaw with a possessive tenderness.

Valerie smiled, a warmth spreading through her despite the weight of his words. “One,” she agreed, her vines relaxing as she leaned into his touch. “But no more secrets, Doffy. If we’re to lead together, I need to know your fears—Rosinante, Downs, all of it. Can you share that with me?”

He stiffened, his smirk faltering, but he nodded slowly, his voice low, his arm unyielding as he held her. “Rosinante’s absence haunts me still,” he confessed, his eyes distant. “He vanished without a trace after Mary Geoise, leaving me to build this crew alone. My father’s weakness dragged us into suffering, and Downs was my breaking point—I’ve carried its silence ever since. Sharing that.. it’s a burden, but for you, I’ll bear it.” His hand tightened on hers, a silent vow.

Valerie squeezed his hand back, her eyes shimmering with empathy. “Then we’ll carry it together,” she said, her voice firm. “Your past, my strength—we’ll make it our foundation. But promise me you’ll let me in, not just as my heart, but as your partner.”

Doflamingo’s laugh was soft, a rare sound of relief. “Fufufufu, a partner, then,” he agreed, his tone warm. “Tonight, we dance. Tomorrow, we rule—together. But tell me, what do you fear in this new path? The crew’s judgment? My temper?” His voice held a curious edge, inviting her to bare her soul as he had.

Valerie hesitated, her vines twitching as she gathered her thoughts. “I fear losing you—to your own darkness, or theirs,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “Trebol’s schemes and the others’ doubts—they’ll test us. And I’m scared of your world—its intensity overwhelms me at times. And your past.. it’s a shadow I want to lighten, not deepen. Can we face that together?”

Doflamingo’s gaze softened, his arm tightening around her as he leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a tender yet fervent kiss. The contact was brief but deep, a silent vow of solidarity, his breath warm against her as he pulled back, his eyes locking with hers. “We will,” he promised, his voice steady. “My darkness is yours to temper, and their schemes will break against our bond. Your fear of this world is valid—it’s a crucible of power and blood—but with me, you’ll rise above its intensity. Downs taught me survival; you teach me purpose. Let’s build a legacy where our dominion rises from controlled destruction, outlasting their envy—starting with this dance.” His hands guided her in his arm into a slower waltz, their steps a tender, elevated pact, the mansion’s ruins a silent witness to their resolve.

She leaned closer, her vines relaxing fully, still cradled against him. “A legacy,” she echoed, her voice gaining conviction. “But it’s not just about power—it’s about trust, about us choosing each other every day. Can you promise that, Doffy? To choose me, even when the crew pulls you back?”

Doflamingo’s gaze intensified, his fingers tightening on her waist as he held her aloft. “Every day, little flower,” he vowed, his tone fervent. “The crew can rage, but you’re my anchor—my choice above all. This waltz is our vow; let it bind us stronger than any string.” He spun her gently in his arm, the dance a celebration of their pact, the night stretching ahead with the promise of a shared reign, tempered by love and shadowed by the challenges to come.

⋆˚✿˖°

Bonus:

As Doflamingo and Valerie returned to the bonfire’s glow, the crew’s revelry paused, eyes turning toward them. Diamante lounged by the fire, his smirk widening as he sipped from his goblet. “Well, well, back so soon?” he drawled, his tone laced with mischief. “Did he confess, or did you two do something else?” Valerie’s face flushed, her vines twitching as she glared at him.

Doflamingo chuckled, his voice low and teasing. “Fufufufu, I may have left a mark to remember,” he said, glancing at her neck.

“Doffy!”

────୨ৎ────

Notes: Yay back to back chapters! I was so inspired when I first wrote this two years ago with the Doflamingo playlist I saw on youtube, a headcanon about Doffy knowing waltz that's been stuck in my head when I first saw that playlist, and I really love classical music that I didn't notice the height difference of these two, so I had to tweak their waltz a bit.

divider by: @uzmacchiato

[penthousedragon]

I made him and forgot to post him :/ 

His name is Vergo but i’ve affectionately been calling him spider-bitch. A mobian con artist with surprising business sense. And corrosive psychokinesis. 

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 13

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 4261 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Robin, Sanji, Nami, Chopper, Usopp, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Sengoku, Sengoku’s goat ;) Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Law slowly came awake, having slept the dreamless sleep he only ever had after draining himself to the point of unconsciousness. He grimaced before slitting his eyes open; his body ached, his mouth was cottony, and his head throbbed. As the fuzzy world came into focus around him, he realized he was on the couch. He frowned. When had that happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting with Luffy on the floor…

He threw a hand over his face and groaned as he remembered that Luffy was the one who’d found him during his panic attack. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were the only ones he allowed to see him like that; they’d seen him at his worst when Cora-san’s death was still a gaping wound, and his body was still marred with Amber Lead. They’d been there for the screaming nightmares and suffocating panic attacks. For anyone else to see him that way…

Well, Law hadn’t been able to afford such shows of weakness around the Family.

But Luffy had simply smiled and offered that he had his own demons as well.

Law swallowed, unsure of what to do with that bit of kindness. It settled uncomfortably somewhere behind his breastbone.

Taking a breath, he pushed himself upright and glanced around. Luffy was nowhere to be seen. Vergo’s body was also gone. That meant someone—likely Marines—had come in while Law was sleeping to remove it. The idea of being defenseless while Marines were in the room made his stomach turn. Yet they’d left him alone, undoubtedly on Smoker’s orders.

Shaking his head, Law grabbed Kikoku from where she’d been placed on the table and pocketed his Den Den Mushi. He had no idea what time it was—and there were no windows in this metal monstrosity of a lab to give him any hints—but if the Marines had removed Vergo’s body, there was a good chance the back-up ship had arrived, meaning it was morning.

Rather than aimlessly wander around the lab, Law reached out with his haki to look for the Straw Hats… and was immediately struck by the overwhelming presence of Luffy. After a moment, he was able to discern the chaotic energies of the other Straw Hats as well; they were gathered a few halls over. The Marines, including Smoker and his second, were on the other side of the lab, near the entrance. He could sense more Marines than he thought had been there previously, which seemed to confirm his suspicion.

Law left the control room and followed his haki. The closer he got to the gathered group, the stronger the smell of cooking food became—which made perfect sense when he found the crew in the dining hall.

“Torao, good morning!” Luffy called, waving his hand as though Law wouldn’t be able to pick him out from the small group. They were all seated at one long table that they seemed to have pieced together from several smaller tables.

“Straw Hat-ya,” Law greeted with a sigh, head already aching from the enthusiasm. Whatever time it was, it was too early for this.

“Sanji’s cooking breakfast. I hope there’s lots of meat!” Luffy said, eyes glazing over.

“Of course, you do,” the cat burglar said, rolling her eyes. She then turned and looked Law up and down without any hint of subtlety. “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” she said, lips twitching.

Law considered flipping her off, but coffee sounded amazing, so he simply nodded and headed back to the kitchen, where Black Leg was working. He raised an eyebrow at Law’s presence.

“Coffee?” Law grunted.

Black Leg nodded and broke off from the task he was doing—scrambling eggs, from the looks of it—and poured a cup of coffee.

“Take anything with it?”

Law shook his head, accepting the undoctored mug of precious caffeine.

Black Leg snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

Law shrugged and took a sip. The bitter liquid burned at his scratchy throat, and it was heavenly.

“Any dietary restrictions?” Black Leg asked as he went back to the meal.

“No bread.”

Black Leg hummed. “Gluten allergy or just not a fan?”

“Gluten,” Law acknowledged around sips.

Black Leg nodded. “I can work with that.” He turned to another task but looked over his shoulder at Law. “Tell those idiots it’s almost ready, will you?”

Law took that as being kicked out of the kitchen, so he jerked his head in a nod and grudgingly returned to the rowdy collection of remaining Straw Hats.

“It’s almost ready,” Law relayed as he sat down at the end of the table, as far from Luffy as he could place himself. He could still feel a crawling sensation under his skin as he thought about the night before, and sitting as far away from its source while he worked through his thoughts seemed like his best bet.

“Was there meat?” Luffy asked, mouth practically watering.

“There’s always meat, you shitty piece of rubber,” Black Leg said as he brought several platters of food out from the kitchen.

After dropping off the platters, Black Leg went back to the kitchen several more times and returned with an impressive array of breakfast foods for the crew to share. The remaining Straw Hats, particularly those seated close to Luffy, seemed to have a well-practiced system in place to eat their meals while avoiding Luffy stealing from their plates, including knocking their captain upside the head when he got too close. Luffy merely grinned and laughed before returning to his own heaping plate.

Law managed to grab some eggs and fruit amidst the melee, and, as he ate, he considered how different the dynamic was from his own crew’s. Though, Law supposed with no little regret, he hadn’t eaten with them with any regularity in the last few years. Ever since Shachi’s injury, Law’s guilt had pushed him away from his nakama, and, when he did eat, he usually ended up eating alone or with the Family—Sunday dinners, for instance, were required for every executive who was not away on a mission. Though the Family was hectic in its own way, manners were still expected—and not just because their captain was also a king. Table manners had been preached even when Law had been with the Family at Spider Miles; just because they were pirates did not mean they were savages, Doffy had said, and they were expected to act like it.

That had made a lot more sense when Law had learned that Doffy was a former Celestial Dragon—many of his quirks had come into focus with that information, in fact.

It had also been revealing about Cora-san, though Law hadn’t been entirely ready to open that Pandora’s Box, despite knowing about it for six years.

“How did you sleep last night, Torao-kun?”

Law started, pulled from his thoughts by Nico Robin’s smiling face across the table from him.

“Luffy went looking for you last night after dinner, but then he didn’t come back until this morning,” she elaborated, still smiling.

The expression set Law’s teeth on edge. He narrowed his eyes, certain that she was screwing with him. “Fine,” he said curtly then deliberately took a sip of coffee, hoping to discourage the conversation. Still. Did that mean Luffy had stayed? He was obviously the one who had moved Law to the couch, and that was humiliating enough, but the thought that the other captain had stayed with him…

Law’s eye twitched.

But Nico Robin just kept smiling. “That’s good to hear. After all, we’re heading to Dressrosa today.”

Law put his cup down slowly. “Yes,” he agreed, not sure what she was getting at.

“We’ll need everyone to be at their best to face Doflamingo,” she said, expression never changing. “I’ve heard the rumors about him.”

“Until tomorrow, little bird.”

“He’s worse than any rumor,” Law ground out before pushing himself up and away from the table. He grabbed Kikoku, knuckles going white from his grip. He needed air.

“Torao?” Luffy called after him, but he ignored the other captain, practically fleeing the room.

Recalling the blueprints of the lab, he navigated the hallways to the front entrance and practically exploded out the door, stumbling onto the front stoop as he shoved the door open with more force than needed. He put a hand against the wall and sagged, sucking in lungfuls of icy air, the cold tamping down on the heat that had risen in his face and helping him to collect himself.

After a few more deep breaths, he felt his head clear, and he looked out over the island. He’d been so caught up in his own mind that he hadn’t noticed the Marine vessel being loaded in the port a few hundred yards away. He shook his head; he needed to get his shit together if he was going to deal with Doflamingo today.

Law leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms against his chest, watching various Marines scurry about like little insects whose nest had been disturbed while others barked orders.

After a few minutes of Law watching his men, Smoker climbed the steps and took a seat on the top step, leaving distance between himself and Law.

As the two watched in silence, several soldiers marched the chained Caesar and Monet toward the ship. Caesar continued making high-pitched protests—“Do you know who I am?”, “Do you know who you’re messing with?” and the like—while Monet remained silent. As if drawn to Law, she turned and their eyes met briefly, that look of betrayal still in her gaze. Then she was pushed along toward the ship and the connection broke.

Law exhaled, only then realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Once Doflamingo learned of their arrests as well as of Vergo’s death—he had more spies in the Marines than just Vergo, though even Law didn’t know all their identities—he would undoubtedly retrieve his subordinates and Vergo’s body. He would leverage his connections, and even the Fleet Commander couldn’t refuse the Gorosei.

Law could only hope he’d receive that news once Law and his nakama had escaped Dressrosa.

“What will you do now?” Smoker asked as they watched a string of Caesar’s men, buoyed by strange balloon devices, escorted to the ship by another group of soldiers. “Doflamingo will kill you if you return to Dressrosa.”

That… was not actually true; Law might wish he were dead if Doffy got wind of his betrayal before he and his crew could flee, but he would live until he performed the Perennial Youth Operation. Only then would he be allowed to die—for the sake of Doffy’s immortality. No, it would be his nakama (and Luffy’s crew, now that the crazy captain had decided to involve himself in Law’s affairs) who would pay the ultimate price. But Smoker didn’t need to know that.

Law raised an eyebrow at Smoker’s back. “Why do you care, White Chase-ya? I’m just a no-good pirate.”

“Maybe I don’t like being in debt to pirates,” Smoker retorted. “And if you die, I can’t pay it back.”

Law snorted. “Apologies if my impending death is inconvenient for your conscience.”

Smoker grumbled in response.

They sat in silence for several more minutes, and, surprisingly, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Smoker seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion about Law, and Law simply had too much on his mind to bother with antagonizing the vice admiral. And, if Law were being honest with himself, while he hated the Marines on principle for their part in Flevance’s fall, Smoker was one of the few who had ever shown even an inkling of honor; it was a very grudging sense of respect he found budding toward the vice admiral.

They watched the ship’s continued loading until the lab’s door opened once more, and the Straw Hats spilled out onto the stoop. Law noticed two more figures had joined the group: Kin’emon the samurai and a boy dressed in similar garb. A son? They had shied off to the side of the group on the other side of the doorway from Law.

“Oh, there you are, Torao!” Luffy said, spying Law off to the side. “And Smokey!”

“Straw Hat,” Smoker grumbled, pushing himself to his feet.

“Where are the children?” the cat burglar asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Tashigi is with them,” Smoker said.

“Well, we’re not leaving until we see them off,” Chopper added, coming up next to his crewmate at the front of the group, doing his best to sound authoritative.

Smoker lip curled in annoyance, but he was saved from having to reply by the emergence of the captain and the children from a side entrance of the lab. The swordswoman, with a bright voice and wide smile, directed the children toward the ship. The children laughed and jumped around as they boarded the ship.

“Tashigi!” Smoker called.

The swordswoman looked up from her charges and took in the group standing next to the vice admiral. After murmuring something to the remaining children waiting to board, she headed over to the lab steps.

“Smoker-san,” she greeted.

“These idiots won’t leave until they know the children are taken care of. Tell them where we’re taking them.”

Long Nose and the cyborg protested at being called idiots, but the cat burglar and Chopper ignored them. Their eyes were focused on the swordswoman.

“We’re taking them to be treated by Vegapunk himself,” the captain replied, adjusting her glasses. “He’s agreed to look at the long-term effects of the drugs and work on a treatment. Once they’ve received the care they need, we’ll take them all home. We’re also in the process of contacting their families.”

“That’s a relief,” Chopper said, smiling.

The swordswoman looked at the cat burglar. “I meant what I said earlier; I will protect the children with my life!”

The cat burglar nodded, her expression softening. “I know. Thank you.”

The two women shook hands, and the captain glanced at her superior before heading back to the ship. The children were making their way onto the deck of the ship, calling at the Straw Hats with their thanks. Law was startled to hear even a few thanks hollered in his direction. Considering he hadn’t wanted to get caught up with the children in the first place, he didn’t think he deserved any.

Smoker shook his head and glanced back at the gathered group, eyes meeting Law’s one final time, before he headed back to the ship, corralling the remaining soldiers who had yet to board. The Straw Hats waved as the ship eventually pushed off from the dock and set sail.

“All right!” Luffy called out, grabbing the attention of his crew. “Let’s go! On to Dressroba!”

“Dressrosa,” Law grumbled.

“Shishishi,” Luffy chuckled. “Whatever. Let’s go take down that Mingo!”

He headed off in the direction of the Thousand Sunny, and the rest of the group followed—including Kin’emon and the boy, Law noted. He’d have to account for their presence in his plan. Luffy continued chattering on, mostly to Zoro and Long Nose, though he’d turn back every now and then to meet Law’s eye with a grin.

As they walked, the cat burglar came up next to Law. “I can navigate using the maps we found in the lab, but if you have a better way…”

Law reached into a pocket on the inside of his coat and pulled out an Eternal Pose for Dressrosa. It was the same one Doffy had given Law nearly a decade earlier in the North Blue. He carried it on every mission away from the island. For a moment, Law’s grip tightened on the wooden frame as he considered that there was a good chance neither he nor his nakama would ever leave that island again. Swallowing, he forcibly loosened his fingers and offered it to her. Her eyes lit up.

“That will make things easier!” She looked at the pose for a moment then glanced back at Law. “You said it should take half a day?”

“Yes.”

The cat burglar—Nami—peered up at the sky and narrowed her eyes consideringly before shaking her head. “We’ll have to get further away from the conditions on this weird island before I can get a sense of the weather.”

“Dressrosa is a summer island,” Law supplied. “The weather is rarely poor around it.”

Nami hummed thoughtfully. “That’s promising.”

Law hesitated before adding, “Avoid skies with clouds as much as possible.”

“Why?” Black Leg asked from Law’s other side. He took a drag on his cigarette and raised a curious eyebrow.

Law glanced at him before turning back to Nami. “Doflamingo can use his Devil Fruit to travel in the skies. He uses clouds to do it. If he has any suspicion that I’ve betrayed him, he’ll be out looking for me.”

“Will he have any suspicion?” Black Leg asked as Nami’s eyes widened.

“I… don’t know.” Law had played the call over in his mind repeatedly and still did not know if Doffy had been bluffing. Even if he hadn’t been, there was no telling how quickly he’d hear from his Marine spies about what had happened on Punk Hazard. “Best to assume he does.”

Black Leg pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

Once they boarded the Thousand Sunny, the Straw Hats spread out to complete their respective jobs for setting sail. Law leaned back against the wall and was joined by Kin’emon and the boy as they stayed out their hosts’ way. Law and the samurai eyed one another. Law didn’t know anything about Kin’emon, other than, as a samurai, he was likely from Wano and that Doffy wanted him kept alive. If Kin’emon was from Wano, Law idly wondered if Doffy’s orders about the man came from Kaido but put the thought out of his mind; it didn’t matter to the task at hand.

Once the Thousand Sunny had pulled away from Punk Hazard and started toward Dressrosa, Law’s Eternal Pose pointing the way, the Straw Hats reconvened on the lawn in the center of the ship. They turned to Law.

“Tell us, Torao-kun,” Nico Robin said, speaking for her crew. “What awaits us in Dressrosa?”

Law took a steadying breath and started to speak.

-----

Two Days Later

Smoker found the Inspector General in his favorite spot, a perch overlooking New Marineford, absently sharing snacks with his beloved goat. He hadn’t been entirely surprised to receive a summons from Marine HQ after the prisoners he’d brought in and the damning report he’d filed about another vice admiral, but he thought this might be a bit more personal, considering the source.

“Inspector General,” Smoker greeted as he came to a stop next to the seated man.

“Smoker,” Sengoku replied, nodding at him.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes,” Sengoku said, adjusting his glasses briefly. “I read your report about the events on Punk Hazard.”

Smoker’s original report had been heavily edited so that the official report had, much like the Alabasta report, given him far more credit than he deserved for what had transpired. It also whitewashed some of the uglier truths Smoker had learned about the base commander of G-5 and the experiments being conducted on the island. But Smoker had a feeling Sengoku was referring to the unedited version. Semi-retired or not, a man like Sengoku would have his ways of getting his hands on that document.

“Sir,” Smoker said neutrally.

Sengoku offered his goat a cracker before glancing at Smoker. “You don’t seem pleased at the accolades being thrown your way for uncovering a traitor so high in the ranks.”

Smoker snorted. “If you read my report, you know I didn’t uncover shit. Sir.”

Sengoku nodded, absently scratching behind the goat’s ears. “Corazon revealed Vergo’s true nature.”

So, he had read the unedited version. “Yes.”

“Tell me, Smoker,” Sengoku said, something careful about his tone that Smoker couldn’t quite place. “What were your impressions of Vice Admiral Vergo? Before this? You worked alongside him at G-5.”

“I thought he was a good leader and a good soldier,” Smoker admitted. “I respected him.” He’d had no reason to suspect the man; his reputation was spotless, and the men of G-5 admired him. It grated on him that he hadn’t noticed the rat. Surely there had been something amiss that Smoker had missed…

But, no. Vergo’s act had been flawless.

Sengoku nodded thoughtfully. “And Corazon killed him.”

“Yes.”

“And what did you make of that, Vice Admiral?”

Smoker frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The second in command of the Donquixote Pirates killing a particularly important spy for his own crew among Marine ranks. Surely that was surprising to you.”

Smoker, even in his unedited report, had skirted around what he’d heard about Corazon’s history. He wasn’t sure why he was keeping the man’s secrets other than the debt he owed him, but something hadn’t sat right in his chest when he’d attempted to make note of all he’d heard. He’d learned to trust his instincts over the years, and they’d told him he’d be better served holding onto that information. Even—maybe especially—the Marines were prone to politics, and Smoker knew that information could be leveraged. He found the fact distasteful, but it was true nonetheless.

But those same instincts were also telling him now that Sengoku was the right person to tell, considering his personal connection to the Donquixote Pirates. It was known amongst the longest-serving Marines that Sengoku’s adopted son had been killed by the Donquixote Pirates while on an undercover mission infiltrating them. Smoker had never met Rosinante, but he’d seen the plaque on the wall of fallen soldiers.

“There seemed to be bad blood between them,” Smoker said after coming to his decision. He didn’t have a full sense of what he’d witnessed between the two men, but he knew enough about long-standing grudges to recognize one when he saw it. “Going back a long way.”

Corazon couldn’t be older than his mid-twenties but had held the title of Corazon for half a decade. Only someone who’d been with the Family for a long time could have risen to second in command—Doflamingo only surrounded himself with the best, which was part of what made his crew so dangerous—so for Corazon to have risen so high so at such a young age likely meant he’d been with them as a child. It was common knowledge that the Family recruited children and raised them to be loyal soldiers, so that would not have been surprising.

The slightest twitch in Sengoku’s eyebrow told Smoker that he was on the right track. Considering the timeline, then, there was a good chance Corazon knew Sengoku’s son and might have answers about the circumstances surrounding his death, which had remained under high level security clearance in the years since. Most Marine lifers felt Sengoku had never truly moved past Rosinante’s death (though they’d never say it in the man’s earshot), but now perhaps he could get some answers—especially if Corazon was attempting to leave the Family and had no reason to keep their secrets any longer.

“I see,” Sengoku finally said, offering the goat another cracker. He offered the bag to Smoker wordlessly, but Smoker shook his head.

Smoker hesitated only a moment before adding, “Corazon let something slip during the fight.”

Sengoku simply nodded at him to continue, obviously recognizing Smoker had left whatever it was out of his report.

“I think he’s a survivor of the White City.”

Sengoku paled, though Smoker had a feeling it wasn’t for the reason most did when Flevance was mentioned. He’d been Fleet Admiral when commands had come from above even him to wipe out the country and everyone in it due to the highly contagious Amber Lead Disease that was killing entire generations.

It was genocide and a shame on any Marine with a sense of honor.

“There were no survivors,” Sengoku said finally, voice curiously choked off.

And even if anyone had managed to escape the slaughter, they should have died years earlier due to Amber Lead Disease. But somehow, Corazon hadn’t.

The more he thought about it, the more Smoker had a feeling it had to do with that Devil Fruit of his. The Ope-Ope no Mi was a miracle surgery fruit, after all.

“There seems to be at least one,” Smoker replied, remembering the fury in Corazon’s voice as he’d railed against what had happened to his family and his home, sheer rage taking over the normally composed man. It was clearly a slip he regretted making, considering the way his expression had soured once he’d realized what he’d said. “It sounded like his parents were doctors, but they were killed with everyone else when Flevance fell. Including a sister.”

Sengoku ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking his age. “I see,” he said after a long moment. He turned to Smoker and gave him a wan smile. “Thank you for telling me.”

The dismissal was clear, but Smoker had one more thing to add. “The traitor, Vergo, didn’t call Corazon by his title. He used a name.”

Sengoku raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He didn’t use a surname. But he called Corazon Law.”

“Law,” Sengoku murmured, as though trying out the name.

Smoker left Sengoku with the name on his tongue, wondering what the former Fleet Admiral would do with the information but deciding it was above his paygrade.

Next chapter

[gendervapor14]

gen's gen one piece fanfiction masterlist!

what's that? you don't feel like navigating my ao3 dash? i gotchu 😎 here's a masterlist of all my GEN RATED fics piled onto a tumblr post! i took the liberty of organizing them a little bit too! <3 i will do my best to keep on top of this 👍

link to my OP ship fanfiction masterlist!! <3

these stories contain no romance, or if there is romance, it isn't the focal point. ratings vary, but i tried to loosely organize them by characters featured!

updated 08-12-23

negotiations

rating: T warnings: none! status: complete! oneshot, 2,011 words genres/cw: angst, power imbalance, canon-compliant, tension characters: doflamingo, viola/violet summary: He was keeping his cards close. It didn’t matter. She could already see through them. additional notes: a first-meeting fix-it! my first and probably favorite work on ao3.

babysitting

rating: T warnings: none! status: incomplete, one chapter, 2,737 words genres/cw: humor, domestic fluff? as domestic as the donquixote family gets at least, canon-compliant, dark humor characters: gladius, dellinger, doflamingo summary: “What’s the matter, Gladius, are you afraid of little Dellinger?” “Horrified, sir.” additional notes: gladius is responsible for babysitting baby dellinger. anguish ensues

utopia (is always just out of reach)

rating: T warnings: none! status: complete! oneshot, 666 words, genres/cw: angst, alcohol abuse, nightmares, disturbing themes, canon-compliant characters: doflamingo summary: In a way, Doflamingo envied his brother's ability to find sleep. But it was more than that. There was always something more to it. Corazón didn’t just sleep. He rested. He escaped. additional notes: had a bad string of nightmares so i decided to take it out on doflamingo <3

splitting (searing) tearing (fearing)

rating: T warnings: no archive warnings apply status: complete! oneshot, 1,422 words genres/cw: canon compliant, dialogue heavy, referenced incest pertaining to the celestial dragons, alcoholism, implied drug use, shit talking rosinante characters: doflamingo, vergo summary: trading one heart for another. perhaps it's better to have none. ~ takes place in the 01746 universe, but can be read standalone ~ additional notes: i got very disturbed and so i wrote a story about doflamingo being very disturbed because he deserves it and i don't 👍

birds of different feathers

rating: T warnings: no archive warnings apply status: complete! oneshot, 3,456 words genres/cw: canon compliant, angst, tension, warlord meeting, character study, pre-dressrosa, doflamingo being an asshole characters: tsuru, sengoku, doflamingo, sengoku's goat summary: garp hunted roger. smoker hunted luffy. most seem to forget tsuru hunted doflamingo. {for marines week 2023} additional notes: my friend asked me for my opinion on tsuru and doflamingo's relationship so i shat this out

beast pirates inc.

rating: T warnings: none! status: incomplete, one chapter, 6,669 words genres/cw: office humor, satire, modern AU, transphobic character characters: doflamingo, donquixote family summary: kaido certainly made an interesting choice when he decided to hire doflamingo as the regional manager for the spider miles branch of his (illegal) operations. additional notes: replaced the staff of the US version of the office with the donquixote family. disco's there for like 3 seconds and says some very unpleasant things, so be wary of the content warnings with that one.

the last trip to the county fair

rating: gen warnings: none! status: complete! oneshot, 1,725 words genres/cw: modern AU, high school AU, county fair, rural vibes, angst/hurt/comfort, slice of life, pov rosinante characters: rosinante, doflamingo, homing and momquixote have a breif cameo summary: Jamming his fists in his pockets, Rosinante decided this is what Doffy wanted. He wanted his little brother to be miserable and lonely. Suffer like the loser he was. Well, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. additional notes: wrote this in a depressed slump, based off of a true story. i hate having brothers.

01746

rating: M warnings: graphic depictions of violence, major character death status: complete! (undergoing edits) 55 chapters, 270,663 words genres/cw: angst, backstory, canon-compliant, mental health issues, conflict of issues, romance, alcohol & drug use/abuse, suicidal thoughts/actions, dark themes characters: rosinante, doflamingo, sengoku, tsuru, original character, donquixote family, law summary: Somewhere in that heavenly demon, there was human. Besides the flesh and blood, besides the eyes behind lifeless lenses. Somewhere there was the potential for good. But it was all tossed towards his sense of self. Doflamingo, with his wicked heart, sauntered about as if he were absolved of sin. Embodied it, really. Surrounded himself with a loyal, fallen family of his own making. Striving to achieve this goal of divine perfection. Because he felt it was owed to him. Still, Rosinante did not want his brother to die. Maybe he should've. A tale of fallen nobles, justice, freedom, and love. additional notes: this is the biggest project i have written so far! rosinante's backstory, from when he's taken in by the marines, to his death. covers his life as a marine, his experience undercover, living with the donquixote family, and his short adventures with law. there is some sappy romance in this, (rosinante x oc, and background doflamingo x crocodile) but it's not the focal point, and can be skimmed/overlooked without hindering the plot.

doflaminBROS week 2023 ficlet collection

rating: T warnings: major character death status: complete! 5 chapters, 3,402 words genres/cw: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-compliant, character study, nightmares, implied drug use, ptsd, mild sibling abuse, referenced alcoholism, depictions of a corpse characters: doflamingo, rosinante, law, donquixote pirates summary: collection of canon-compliant ficlets for the doflaminBROS week 2023 event! prompts are as follows: april 10th: brothers, april 11th: smile, april 12th: cigarettes, april 13th: childhood, april 14th: hurt/comfort, april 15th: silence, april 16th: free additional notes: ummm yes pretty much what it says on the tin, bunch of little snack-sized sad stories about these two goons

a father for a son

rating: gen warnings: major character death status: complete! 7 chapters, 589 words genres/cw: artwork, traditional art, angst, poetry, ficlet collection, canon compliant, canonical character death characters: rosinante, donquixote parents, sengoku, law, doflamingo, sengoku's goat, bell-mere summary: a collection of artwork (by @attyattlaw), and accompanying poetic ficlets (by gendervapor), for coraweek2023! prompts are as follows: day 1: smile, day 2: gun, day 3: seasons, day 4: soul, day 5: family, day 6: martyr, day 7: smoke additional notes: a collab between me and atty for coraweek! we had a blast with this and also suffered a lot :D

life of a paper shredder

rating: gen warnings: major character death status: complete! oneshot, 2,327 words genres/cw: canon compliant, angst & feels, the goat does not die!! characters: sengoku's goat, rosinante, sengoku, tsuru summary: “You be good to Admiral Sengoku and keep him company while I'm gone, and I’ll let you eat a copy of my final report. Promise?” a companion breaks no promise. additional notes: i get a lot of comments on this one about people crying so. be wary.

corazón de oro

rating: gen warnings: none! status: complete, oneshot, 2,785 words genres/cw: hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, nightmares, canon-compliant characters: rosinante, law summary: “Love, it’s…kind of like a leap of faith. You take your dive, you give them your heart. And you can only hope they’ll catch it when you land.” additional notes: sweet little snippet of cora and law's adventure. cora raises law's spirits after a bad dream and shares his take on the meaning of love. uh, also worth clarifying, not a ship. i might add more snippets of their adventure to this at some point, and use it as a cora & law fluff dump.

fight over flight

rating: T warnings: major character death status: complete! oneshot, 666 words genres/cw: angst, poetic, character study, disturbing themes, canon-compliant characters: rosinante, law, doflamingo summary: The boy, a pathetic, sputtering thing, still had a heart. Something to beat and bleed and fight for. A living, stolen treasure, stashed away into the wrong hands. But were these scarred palms any better? additional notes: i don't remember writing this. honestly not sure if it's any good. i do remember i wrote it as a foil to utopia.

sunflowers > gold

rating: T warnings: major character death status: complete! oneshot, 1,402 words genres/cw: angst, character study, goodbyes, canon-compliantcharacters: gladius, monet summary: As he gazed up at that sea of gold, hands fisted in his pockets, Gladius could only wish for the impossible. It wasn’t fair to split the Family apart. An act of trust, they’d call it, but some part of him feared it was far worse. additional notes: a little gladius character study, focused on his relationship with monet. could be viewed as platonic or romantic!

trash > treasure

rating: T warnings: none! status: complete! oneshot, 3,131 words genres/cw: hurt/comfort, dark humor, found family, character study, fluff and angst, implied drug use, chronic illness characters: doflamingo, gladius, donquixote executives summary: Maybe Gladius was a waste like the executives foretold, but he was a waste Doflamingo cared about. For whatever reason, that miserable, soft-spoken, sickly little brat got under his skin and had him reevaluating his recklessness. additional notes: i noticed gladius and doflamingo had pretty similar hairstyles when they were younger, and so this was born. some very cruel, dark humor shared between the executives worth noting.

battle your tears, bottle your fears

rating: T warnings: no archive warnings apply status: complete! oneshot, 3,917 words genres/cw: canon compliant, angst, mental health concerns, broken bones, heart attacks, betrayal, grief/mourning, hallucinations, drug use, chronic illness, crying, medical inaccuracies characters: gladius, baby 5, doflamingo, donquixote pirates summary: The least he could do was keep his shit together when Doflamingo needed him the most. Instead, he was going to lie here and die from a broken foot. ~ contains spoilers for the 01746 universe ~ additional notes: a gift for the lovely @mariaashlay for. being an incredible human. and a fellow gladius lover ♥

[rochiomaru]

Healing Wounds

Doflamingo had not left Law’s side since they had boarded the Numancia a couple of weeks prior, after having left Minion Island. He religiously sat next to the boy and watched as the teen took slow and labored breaths in the darkened cabin that had been turned into a makeshift sick bay. From the time he could remember, the pirate had been told he was descended from gods, and his crew further perpetuated that belief by telling him he was meant to rule as a god and a king in this life. He had spent the last 15 years building a life, scheming plots, pulling strings to bring that plan to fruition so that they could all rule the world and watch everything burn that stood in the way of his dreams.

Now as he watched a pale boy fight for life, for the first time since he was eight years old, Doflamingo knew he would give everything in exchange for the soul lying on the bed in front of him. He reached over and gently pushed back the dark hair from the boy’s eyes and couldn’t help but to notice how very small Law’s face looked compared to his hands. He wondered if Law saw him as the same monster his brother claimed he was when he looked at those hands? Those giant hands had taken too many lives to count, after all. Perhaps Law wanted nothing to do with him and would never return to this side of the veil.

The blond frowned and shook those disturbing thoughts from his mind. Law knew what Doflamingo was when he came to him, yet the boy had still sought him out.

“He won’t obey you, Doffy. He’s not the same Law that came to you that day, who lost track of himself and came to visit a crazy pirate!” 

Again the words his brother had spoken in their final meeting began to run through his mind, causing the man to pull his hand back from Law and grab his blond locks in a desperate attempt to quiet his mind. The words continued to repeat themselves over and over until he truly thought he may become nothing but what he was already accused of being. ‘Is this all I am?’ he moaned inwardly as he rocked forward to place his head on his knees, ‘just a crazy pirate that no one will ever love?’

He could almost feel his brother’s brown eyes filled with hatred upon him, burning him, accusing him. When Doflamingo could stand it no longer, he stood suddenly, causing his chair to tip backwards and fall on its side. He stood there gasping for breath, feeling the blood rushing through his veins and hearing his pulse thunder in his ears, but at least it drowned the sound of his brother’s voice; for the moment anyway.

There was a knock at the door that broke through the spiral of thoughts that overwhelmed the pirate. Doflamingo’s head whipped towards the sound, and he bit his lip in concentration while attempting to bring himself back into the moment, and away from the tortuous memories of Minion Island. Though some part of him was grateful to have been interrupted, another was irritated that Law’s rest would be hindered. The blond knew that after such injuries, he needed time to heal properly. 

Doflamingo narrowed his eyes behind rose lenses while watching the door and attempting to calm his ragged breathing for a few moments more, when the knocking came again along with Vergo’s familiar voice.“Doffy? Are you awake? It’s time for dinner. I brought you food.” 

He sighed and closed his eyes in a weary gesture. It had been the same motions for days now. Someone would come and try to coax him out of the room, but he would not go. Doflamingo explained to them why he was staying by Law’s bedside, but yet his crew continued to send Vergo or one of the other executives to the door. Yet, how could he leave the boy when he so obviously needed him? He had let the boy go once, and it led to the current situation. In his eyes, he had failed to protect one of his own, and now the boy may not come back to him at all. This is simply unacceptable, and what kind of father would Doflamingo be if he abandoned his son again?

He opened his eyes, lifted his slender fingers and reached underneath the golden frames to rub the tiredness from them. Though the action did not truly help, it did soothe the man somewhat as he considered the other matter that had him keeping himself isolated from his crew, from his family.  This was the situation of Vergo’s betrayal. 

If there was one thing he would not tolerate, it was someone touching something that was his. However, the real problem lay in that Vergo was closer than anyone else in Doflamingo's life. They had been together since they were ten years old, through every trial and triumph. Doflamingo considered him a brother, more so than Rosinante had ever been. Perhaps that’s why it hurt so much to look at the dark bruises and swollen flesh on Law’s face, and to know that his closest friend had been the one to put such marks there. He simply was not ready to confront Vergo yet. Not until he knew whether or not his son was going to survive.

The knocking came again with Vergo's voice, only this time he was much louder, bordering on yelling. “I’m not leaving this time, Doffy! Not until you eat this food.” All of Doflamingo’s movement ceased at the sound of those words. Never had Vergo used such a tone with him, and it was more than a little shocking to hear him do so now. After a moment, Vergo’s voice came again more softly, “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

Doflamingo chewed on his bottom lip while looking at the closed door, and then to the boy lying deathly still on the bed next to where he stood. He slowly reached over and gently ran his fingers along a healing bruise on Law’s cheek, taking note that he didn’t feel as feverishly hot as he had previously. Perhaps this is a sign things are turning for the better. The blond came to a decision. No more hiding from his problems.

He straightened up and squared his broad shoulders, taking time to look at himself in the vanity at the bedside. He ran his fingers through his mussed hair and tried to pat down any wrinkles he noticed on his shirt. Unfortunately, he had discarded his tie days ago and had no clue where it had gone, and as he leaned forward to get a closer look at his face, he grimaced. The sunglasses did a fair job in covering the bags under his eyes, but he hadn’t shaved since before leaving Spider Miles. He knew he looked bad, but hadn’t realized how far he had let himself go.

‘Well, nothing I can do about it now,’ he thought to himself with a frown. Instead, Doflamingo lifted his chin and placed a carefully blank look on his face before heading to open the door. He is going to be a king, and be damned if anyone would dare think otherwise, no matter the circumstances. 

As he reached for the knob, Doflamingo felt a slight tremble to his movement. He closed his eyes, clenched his hand a couple times to steele his nerves, and let out a breath to prepare himself to face his best friend over the mistreatment of his son. Again, he put his hand out and took hold of the door handle. In a quick movement, he flung the door open wide, revealing a startled Vergo on the other side. However, despite his preparation, the anger he felt when he saw the man nearly overwhelmed him.

“D..D..Doffy!” Vergo stuttered. He had meant what he said about not leaving until the young master spoke to him, but it still surprised him that Doflamingo had agreed so swiftly. He managed to hold on to the tray he had brought, but the dishes rattled as the brunet struggled to compose himself as he could feel the taller man’s fixated gaze upon him. True that this is what he had wanted, but with the confrontation upon him, all of Vergo’s well-rehearsed lines and speeches simply disappeared from his mind.

Once he had the tray settled firmly in his grasp once again, Vergo looked up at his captain and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from verbally reacting at Doflamingo’s appearance. The man looked as though he had lost a good twenty pounds, and his normally vibrant, tan skin was pale and sallow. He looked so very tired, and about fifteen years older than he really was. Vergo swallowed back the impulse to confront Doflamingo about his appearance, and the heavy layer of guilt that had been laying on him for the last several days, now felt as though it would suffocate him. He knew was as much to blame for his captain… his friend being in this state as the traitor was. Though it was not an excuse, Vergo had not realized how much Law meant to the other.

Doflamingo continued to stare down at the shorter male, but stepped back to allow him inside the room. Vergo moved past him quickly, unsure of what to do next, so he busied himself with setting the tray down on the small table in the corner. He could feel his captain’s eyes on him expectantly, but stalled by arranging the dishes on the table. After a couple of minutes of nervous fidgeting with the items, Vergo heard Doflamingo clear his throat. His time had come, so he sighed softly and shifted to face the larger man.

When he turned, immediately a large hand took him by the throat and swung him around as though his massive frame weighed nothing, slamming him against the wall. The air was forced from his lungs and his head cracked against the wood, making him see stars and feeling like he might vomit. Vergo's head rolled bonelessly as he tried to gather his senses, slowly he came to himself as he realized the hand at his throat was tightening, cutting off his ability to breathe.

Vergo reached up and grabbed at the hand and desperately began pulling at it to try and break free, but it was pointless. He quickly found he was not a match for Doflamingo. “Dof.. I… can...ca..” he tried to beg for his release, but could only stutter out hoarse syllables. He looked into the face of the man that held him up to the wall, and for all the aggression, only saw a blank face and his own reflection in rose-tinted sunglasses. Vergo continued to struggle when he saw something that stunned him into complete stillness. A lone drop of moisture rolled down Doflamingo’s cheek. It could almost be mistaken for sweat, but somehow, Vergo knew that was not the case.

He dropped his hands and accepted his fate. He had done this, and whatever punishment his captain felt was necessary, Vergo would accept. As darkness began to close in the edge of his vision, he knew he needed to let Doflamingo know one thing. “I… I’m… s… sor… ry,” he managed to whisper out. Doflamingo cocked his head to the side and brought Vergo close to his face. Everything began to double and get fuzzy for Vergo, so he closed his eyes, when he felt himself being thrown to the floor.

Vergo gasped and curled in on himself, trying to draw as much air into his burning lungs as he could. He began to cough and retch, but was grateful as his vision began to clear. He was only granted a few moments when his body was forced flat to the floor and he found himself on his back, looking at the ceiling, unable to move. He instantly knew Doflamingo was using his strings to keep him still. Before he could attempt to form any words, the blond was sitting on his chest and leaned down until they were nose to nose.

“Vergo, what made you think you could lay a hand on what was mine? You, more than anyone, should know how I feel about my family.” Doflamingo’s face remained eerily blank as he spoke. It was a stark contrast to the deep, angry tone of his words that betrayed how much emotion he was feeling over this incident. Doflamingo knew he was not ready for this conversation, but being left alone with his thoughts for too long had let his rage go unchecked. H cared deeply for Vergo, as he was family too, so he was doing everything he could not to lose control.

He raised his face away from the man beneath him and continued to watch him attempt to catch his breath. The red marks on his neck were beginning to fill in with purple bruises in the shape of Doflamingo’s fingers, and a frown broke through his blank exterior at the sight. However, he did not regret it. Vergo needed to realize how serious this was, but the blond knew if he had used his strings, he may have killed the other man since he was still too upset over Law’s condition. 

While he continued to stare at the rising bruises on his friend’s neck, the other attempted to speak, “Dof… fy, I…” His voice was raspy and raw, but the emotion in his tone was overwhelming for the blond to hear. Doflamingo could not bear it and the dam holding all of his own emotions back finally broke. Anger, fear, regret, loneliness, pain, and other things the man could not put name to swirled in his chest, causing physical pain that made him feel sick to his stomach. The veins on Doflamingo’s forehead began pulsating and he clenched his teeth to the point he could hear his jaw grinding and the bones popping. A fierce heat filled his eyes and he tried to draw a deep breath in, but found it difficult due to the pain filling his chest.

As the first tears slipped past the golden frames of his sunglasses, Doflamingo pulled his fist back and slammed it into Vergo’s cheek. “You do not get to speak right now!” he roared as he pulled back his other fist to strike him again. “My biological family is gone forever! All I have is the family I have found, and you have tried to take a piece of that from me!” The tears were pouring down Doflamingo’s face by this time and dropping onto Vergo’s throat as the larger man continued to unleash blow after blow against him.

As the blood began to pour from Vergo’s nose, the corner of his mouth, and a deep gash under his right eye, Doflamingo forced himself to stop. He clenched his fists and sat up on the man’s chest, rubbing the tears off his face, but leaving some blood behind in their stead. 

Vergo closed his eyes and groaned softly, but he accepted his punishment, knowing he had done far more damage to the thirteen year old child lying in the bed across the room. Several moments passed in silence when he opened his eyes again and saw Doflamingo with his head resting in hands, fingers laced together, blocking any view the man might have of the other’s face. Vergo wanted to ask him if he was ok, but he knew the answer already, and the worst part was he was to blame for his friend’s condition. He caused Doffy’s pain. Everything in Vergo wanted to tell Doffy how sorry he was, but he had already been told not to speak, so he waited until the other was ready to talk.

Finally, without moving his hands, Doflamingo asked in a tired voice, “Do you remember that time I skinned my knee?” The question was so unexpected, that at first Vergo thought he had misheard what was asked of him.

“Doffy, I… I don’t understand,” he began, but Doflamingo’s deep sigh stopped him.

“Do not make me repeat myself, Vergo,” his voice sounded vaguely threatening, but more than anything, he sounded exhausted.

Vergo swallowed thickly and tried to gather his thoughts. “You mean when we were ten? Yeah, I remember that. I thought some of those town kids had screwed with you again since you were such a shrimp, but it turns out you were just clumsy.” He smirked up at his captain, but quickly flinched because of the pain that shot through his swollen lip.

Doflamingo dropped his hands and looked at Vergo, not having expected to be teased at a moment like this. Despite himself, a small grin broke out on his face, until he saw the look of pain on his friend’s face. He bit his lip and reached down to gently wipe away some drying blood from the corner of Vergo’s mouth. “You look like shit,” he offered casually before continuing the previous conversation. “And, yes, I mean the time when we were ten. The stones were uneven and I fell, but that was not really my point. I meant when you and the others saw I was hurt, it didn’t matter what had caused it, you had my back.”

Vergo nodded. “Of course, Doffy. Fuck that town, it was gonna burn.”

Doflamingo suddenly dipped down until their faces were within a couple of inches of each other. “Yes! That is what it means to be family!” He pulled back and looked over to the bed while pointing at Law. “That is what it needs to be for him! For all of them! Law, Baby 5, Buffalo, they are all my children and part of this family. We need to protect them, even if we have to burn the world, Vergo!” The blond brought his hand back down to rest on Vergo’s shoulder and looked into his face. “I need your loyalty to the Family, and to him, as he is my son and is going to be my right hand one day. For obvious reasons, your cover with the marines has been compromised, so I want you home. I want you back as my Corazon, but I have to know you have my back.”

Vergo could feel his face getting hot from the feelings that were starting to overwhelm him. He truly thought that he had forever thrown away any chance he had of being valued by Doflamingo again, for he knew how his actions were viewed. The bruises and blood on his face and neck were testament to that. But to actually be offered his position as an Executive again was more than he would have ever dared to hope for, and for something that he was already planning to give with his whole heart. He knew he owed this man his life, so this was not really a decision at all.

“Yes, Doffy! It will never happen again, and I pledge my very life to you and to the Family. I would die for you, and I will protect him with my life, as well. You have my word!” he proclaimed.

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile appeared on Doflamingo’s face as he stood up. Vergo found that he could move again and when he looked up, he saw his captain’s hand reaching down to help him stand. Without hesitation, the brunet took the proffered hand and stood to his feet. Doflamingo gently shoved him in the direction of the vanity. “Go clean yourself up. I really meant what I said earlier about how you look. There’s some water and a clean towel.”

Vergo looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not sure you are one to talk, Captain. Perhaps you should visit the bath after eating your meal. I can watch the boy for 20 minutes while you clean up.”

“Fufufufu… You certainly are one for tempting the gods tonight, aren’t you Vergo?” Doflamingo cooed at the smaller male without any real malice in his words. He headed towards the table that held the meal that had been set there earlier and removed the covers from the dishes and noted some of his favorite foods were there and wondered if they had sent these same things every time in hope he would eat. He felt guilty that his family had been worried about his health in such a way, but all he had been able to focus on was Law the last two weeks, and he couldn’t change that now.

It was then he heard a moan coming from next to where Vergo was drying his face. Doflamingo immediately dropped the silver lid, causing it to crash into a plate, but fortunately the food softened the landing and no harm was done. He ran over to the bedside, pushing Vergo to the side. Since he had not been practicing his usual grooming and styling regiments, Doflamingo’s blond hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over the bed, but he impatiently pushed it back out of the way to get a look at Law stirring in the sheets.

Law moaned again and slowly raised his hand up to his face to rub at his eyes. His head was hurting and his right shoulder was stiff and hurt really badly. Slowly he opened his golden eyes and saw a thin blond man leaning over him, but his vision was very blurry. He blinked a couple of times to clear it and the face came into view. Blonde bangs and angular features. Why was Cora-san wearing Doffy’s sunglasses? Wouldn’t his brother be mad? “Cora-san?” he whispered.

Doflamingo’s stomach felt like he had been kicked when the child mistook him for that traitor. ‘Does he love him so much?’ he wondered to himself. However, he would not reveal his true emotions to Law, instead he reached over and took the child’s hand. “No, it’s Doffy. Rosinante went back to the navy. He was lying to us, remember? You are home with your family. We’ve been very worried about you.”

Law looked confused for a few moments and then his face dropped and he closed his eyes. Everything came back to him and a tear rolled down his cheek before he could get a hold of himself. Doflamingo reached over and wiped it gently away and brushed his dark hair back from his forehead.

“You are here with your family and we need you, Law. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep you safe, but it will not happen again. I promise to always protect you.” Doflamingo was not used to being so emotional. His mother was the last person he had ever been this open with, but somehow it felt like the right thing to do. Still it was very uncomfortable not knowing if this child would still choose his brother over him, ‘after all I am a monster… A crazy pirate that no one could love.’

When Law turned back to him with a faint smile, Doflamingo felt his breath catch for a moment. “Thank you for letting Cora-San live. I will stay, but tell Baby 5 to quit hitting me.” he then closed his eyes and drifted back into a light sleep.

Doflamingo smiled softly at the boy. “Of course,” he responded, though he knew Law could not hear him. He turned to Vergo and instructed him to go get the boy some soup and onigiri for when he woke again. He would need sustenance if he was to recover properly, after all.

He then gathered some clothes so he could take a long overdue bath and clean up. First, however, Doflamingo went to find Giolla. As he ran his fingers through his blond hair, he couldn’t help but to think a haircut would be an excellent idea. He always did think he would look amazing with very short hair.

[chromatic-lamina]

Yees, character game, how about one of the donquixote brothers? Either would be great ;)

Yes, yes, yes! You’re going to get both. I’ll do Rosi in another post. This one’s for the pink feathered bastard. 🕸🕷

I was hoping emojis had a flamingo emoji, but no such luck, so spiders it is. ↑

favorite thing about them:

Oh man, he is so super over the top extra. He just reminds me of Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous, except he gets better lines. Of course, Oda layers all of his villains, so Doff’s our chorus, in a way, even while being an instigator of a lot of harm, possibly in reaction to harm.

I think he’s amoral, but with that he’ll invest enough in people and infrastructure to get what he wants and some good can come from that. 

Your work has made me view him in a more nuanced way, but he’s still my go-to villain cos he’s so much fun to write and explore.

So, apart from his personality, let’s say his pink coat. I love those coats (his and Rosi’s). 

least favorite thing about them:

Well, he’s a bastard, right? Caused and inflicted a lot of harm. For the purpose of story though, as said above, he’s got other aspects that mean he definitely isn’t two-dimensional. 

He was so chaotically evil, or indifferent, at Marineford, he really caused a lot of trouble. With the Whitebeards, with Oars Jr. (ah, his leg), but it was wonderful too. We particularly saw how he mistreated Riku Dold and Bellamy—so, y’know, as a real person he’d be pretty low down on my list of favourites, but Oda just went to town on making him a form of likeable and evil, whereas say, Walpole os Spandam don’t have the backbone or the sexy factor (backstories help of course).

Look, if he wasn’t an arsehole I wouldn’t have any writing material. So um, just the fact we haven’t seen him more often in Wano Arc (in reflection, feedback, or in the Reverie interlude), but that’s fine too. Doff will have his chance to cast his ito ito web again. Gonna edit my favourite pic in here, cos I’ve got an ‘after the cut” in this post.

favorite line:

His three speeches are golden. The one about justice and the child of war and child of peace, and the victors writing history tells us so much about the OP world, but also the world in general.

In the brig—when he’s soliloquising to a very unimpressed Tsuru, about the ushering in of the huge era of chaos, now that he’s been taken down and the ties that have been holding all the governing bodies or powerful bodies in some form of detente (so the World Government can do its thing) are fraying like crazy. And then his Impel Down speech. I put it in a drabble but can’t remember it now. Ah, about power not lasting. Back to what do I like about Doffy? Even though he regards himself as a god, he also seems to have a pretty good handle on how quickly the winds of fortune change, and how ephemeral things are. He’s definitely a fighter, and not often at the bottom of the pack.

brOTP:

Does Doff do brOTPs? Yeah, maybe Vergo. It’d be good to learn more about their early days, and Tsuru in their own way. From your A Test of Endurance, I loved that chapter where I think you had Mihawk, Croc and Doff interacting, I think, or maybe just Croc and Mihawk, anyway, I remember having a discussion where you said they were all batshit crazy at Marineford, and it’s true. So I don’t know if these guys are supportive of each other in a brOTP way, but they’ve definitely got that frat competitive energy, albeit with a more sophisticated edge (or bigger cutting power). 

I mean, I’d like to see him interact with a few others of that generation—Shanks, Marco.

OTP:

Doffadile: If we’re talking about healthy ships. 

I don’t mind him with Vergo either, healthy or unhealthy ship. I’ve read fics of him with Monet and Viola, and that’s fine, but he needs to keep that edge he has. I actually like some of the crackier ships like Luffy and Doffy, which are obviously with canon pretty subverted. 

Unhealthy ships, and I won’t call it an OTP, but yeah, I write Doff///Law and read it, but I don’t want Law to stay in that situation.

I’ve seen some crack ships of Doffy and Tsuru in fanart, with a love sick Doffy smitten for Tsuru, and Tsuru patronising him like crazy, and Doffy lapping it up. That appeals to my sense of the absurd and something that could possibly happen cos Doff’s all about thinking outside of the box.

nOTP: 

Okay, I’ve read these ships, and sometimes I enjoy the work, and each to their absolute own. I know some folks don’t like what I write either, so I’ll just plunge in.

Not really keen on yes-con Doff///Law, though there’s some good stuff out there. The main reason being that it seems that Law never had the chance to make an independent life for himself so I kinda get a feeling of being trapped or of claustrophobia when I read it. So yeah, I know it doesn’t work for me. 

If they meet as adult strangers I don’t mind so much, but the power imbalance usually means it’s not a go-to.  I mean, they really didn’t have a sweet relationship in canon.

Doff///Cora is not my go-to, but there are some stories I like, and I really like some of the art. Cora’s already had a tough life (same as Law). I kinda want the both of them to have some space to themselves at some time.

Otherwise, no-one really. 

random headcanon:

Doff...hmm, I write him as such a bad villain...oh, I know! He definitely wears a g-string. He’s kinda vain like that (I mean, we’re talking about blowing Doffy all out of proportion here). I wouldn’t put it beyond him to wear a mankini and to wear it proud! 

(I know you love him. Me too, but he has so much potential for any situation). He’s shameless. Also, yeah, he’s also on some step or stage of the sociopathic/psychopathic spectrum.

unpopular opinion:

I’ve seen it mentioned before, and since Dressrosa was published, but I think that some fanfic glosses over the fact that Doff’s done some pretty heinous things in canon, like redeeming him beyond recognition. Crack fics and fluff fics, AUs are another thing. But it can tip the other way (guilty) of making him even more heinous than he already is.

song i associate with them:

“Da ya think I’m sexy?” Particularly the lines: “If ya want my body, and ya think I’m sexy, c’mon sugar (NOT that Sugar) tell me so”

and

“I’m too sexy for my shirt

Too sexy for my shirt

So sexy it hurts”.

fave pic:

There are so many good ones, but I’ll go for the Croc and Doff one as fashion designers from the One Piece magazine, and I’ve posted that above.

Hope the above’s okay. I love a crack Doflamingo, but also a complete bastard, and also the amazing layered characterisation you have of him too.

Thanks for the ask. Law, Tashigi, Usopp, Zoro, Luffy, Marco Kid, Chopper and Doflamingo are completed!  Rosinante is lined up.

Just taking a few more (one or two) if anyone’s interested. One of the OP ladies?

↓

character asks (one piece only)

[videcoeur]

              Donquixote Doflamingo’s Bio

                                      “ JUSTICE will prevail, YOU SAY?

                                            but of course it will!    

                                           whoever wins becomes JUSTICE”        

Intro

First of all, the wikia is a good start if you don't know anything about Doflamingo.

Everything written here is CANON. This is Doflamingo's profile skeleton taken straight from the wikia. To be noted that I will not be roleplaying him below the age of 18. First, I can't roleplay children for the life of me, second, I have no interest in it. Thanks for understanding.

Name: Donquixote Doflamingo Alias/Epithet: Joker, Heavenly Demon Age: 41 Height: 10′0 Gender, Sexuality & Romance: Male, Pansexual, Hypersexual Devil fruit: Ito Ito no mi (Strings/Threads) Haki: Observation,Armament, and Conqueror Strengths: Speed, Strength, Strategy, Endurance, Agility Bounty: 340 billions beli

Art | Interests | Headcanons | Testimonials |

VERSES UNDER THE READMORE. 

THE KING’S EXECUTION ; ASCEND.(18-28)

Verse in the time period where Doflamingo becomes a true pirate, encouraged by Vergo, Trebol, Diamante and Pica, who made him a leader after returning from Mariejois. Little after that, Doflamingo witnessed the Pirate King’s execution, sent Vergo to become a marine, and reunited with Corazon.

 At age 25, he meets Law, keeps building his name as THE underground broker while simultaneously searching for the Ope-ope no mi. This verse ends with Corazon’s death, when Doflamingo is about 28 years old.

THE GOL GOL FRUIT; NOT CANON.(28-31)

The three year span in which he acquired the Gol Gol Fruit, got it stolen by a cunning Tesoro before finally making him a business partner. In this verse, he is still pretty angry about Law leaving and the death of Corazon. He started drinking again, is more vicious and cruel. Fair warning; this verse is only if you want to interact with the worst version of Doflamingo. 

SHICHIBUKAI.(31-41)

The takeover of Dressrossa verse. After being acknowledged as a shichibukai, Doflamingo heads to Dressrosa and plan a successful coup that makes him the king of the country overnight. He then becomes partner with Kaido to create smiles and an army of fake zoan users.

CAUGHT IN A SPIDERS WEB. (41-?)

Impel Down Verse, mostly based on headcanons.

FREE TO WREAK HAVOC ON THE WORLD AGAIN; NOT CANON.(45+)

Au verse in which Doflamingo escapes Impel Down and starts rebuilding his crew with the members he could free from the underwater prison. He’s back to business with Trebol, Pica, Diamante, Gladius and Dellinger. He either couldn’t save the other members or they defected.