#and for all his flaws he still tries to be there as if he was their actual father

[lady-phasma]

I felt compelled to cite my sources for Armand and Lestat being an item off and on over the years. I’ve been in this fandom too long to get involved in ship wars or to really have an OTP for these crazy-ass vampires. I happen to love Armand and Lestat from the books and think that Assad and Sam make it work so well on screen. I hope we get loads more of them for season 3.

Anne wrote all of her characters as deeply flawed, we can all agree on that, but the nearly fanfiction level of “let’s see what happens when two of my most flawed characters get together” writing she did in TVA is brilliant. Book spoilers below.

Here's a link to a post I made about Lestat's perspective of Armand from TVL. (I have included one quote from TVL below because it's too precious to exclude.)

Lestat spends almost a full page describing how he sees Armand at a ball at the Palais Royal:

Yet never had Nicolas, mortal or immortal, been so alluring. Never had Gabrielle held me so in thrall. Dear God, this is love. This is desire. And all my past amours have been but the shadow of this. - The Vampire Lestat, p. 275

They literally feel the same about each other: instant attraction, love, desire, and so on. And it is powerful.

So powerful that hundreds of years later (in one of my favorite passages from any of her books) Armand is the only person allowed to approach an unconscious Lestat. Not only approach him, but allowed to lay down next to him and cuddle, caress, and console Lestat, to cry onto him.

I looked down on Lestat, who was unchanged, his hair fallen as before, a little over his left eye. His right arm was out, and his fingers curling upwards, and there came from him not the slightest movement, not even a breath from his lungs or a sigh from his pores. I knelt down beside him again. I reached out, and without flinching or hesitating, I brushed his hair back from his face. I could feel the shock in the room. I heard the sighs, the gasps from the others. But Lestat himself didn't stir. Slowly, I brushed his hair more tenderly, and I saw to my own mute shock one of my tears fall right onto his face. It was red yet watery and transparent and it appeared to vanish as it moved down the curve of his cheekbone and into the natural hollow below. I slipped down closer, turning on my side, facing him, my hand still on his hair. I stretched my legs out behind me, and alongside of him, and I lay there, letting my face rest right on his outstretched arm. Again there came the shocked gasps and sighs, and I tried to keep my heart absolutely pure of pride and pure of anything but love. It was not differentiated or defined, this love, but only love, the love I could feel perhaps for one I killed or one I succored, or one whom I passed in the street, or for one whom I knew and valued as much as him. - The Vampire Armand, pp. 368-369 (emphasis is mine)

But the contrasting absolute annoyance Armand has for Lestat is hilarious! He loves him but can barely stand him sometimes (that isn't unusual for Lestat's admirers).

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. The Vampire Armand, p. 276

But it's the way he describes things that happen to him that maddens me, the way that he connects one incident to another as though all these random and grisly occurrences were in fact links in some significant chain. They are not. They are capers. And he knows it. But he must make a gutter theatrical out of stubbing his toe. The James Bond of the Vampires, the Sam Spade of his own pages. - The Vampire Armand, p. 288 (emphasis mine)

Though Armand's head on Lestat's arm might be the most beautiful image of the two of them from any of the books, this line gives me chills every time:

"Lestat, my Lestat - for he was never theirs, was he? - my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga […]" - The Vampire Armand, p. 320 (emphasis mine)

Yes, your Lestat.

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Best Laid Plans

(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)

Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.

A/N: Not fully proofread! I will buzz back through later to clean up mistakes. I had a personal goal to post an update by this weekend, and I wanted to stick to it. 🫡

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

——————————

——————————

“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”

Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.

Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.

But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.

Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.

Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.

And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.” 

The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.

Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.

“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”

The snail finally smiled a little there.

“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can’t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.

“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public. 

And why not? 

The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.

“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.

The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”

But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.

“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”

Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.

“Yes, Joker.”

The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.

Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.

Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.

All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.

So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.

The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.

But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.

“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now. 

Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.

It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.

The snail paused. 

“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.

Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.

“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.

He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.

A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.

“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.

“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.

Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”

“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence. 

“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”

The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.

He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.

Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.

And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.

But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.

Because Joker would have what he wanted.

Always.

——————————

This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.

Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.

But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening. 

Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.

Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.

King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.

And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.

After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.

He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child. 

And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.

But no.

Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.

She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.

The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.

“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.

But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.

Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.

Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.

And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.

“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all. 

The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.

“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”

And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.

Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.

“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.

A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething. 

Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.

And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.

Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.

That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.

“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.

“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”

And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”

Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”

The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.

Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.

But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.

This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.

“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”

Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.

“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”

Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.

“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”

And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.

“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”

Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”

The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”

Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.

Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.

The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.

This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.

“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”

Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.

But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.

His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”

And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”

“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.

And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.

“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.

The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.

It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”

Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.

But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?

Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.

Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.

And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.

Doflamingo would be elated. 

And Crocodile only had you to blame.

—————————— 

There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.

That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper. 

The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.

“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.

I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.

I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.

Yours,

-D.D.”

You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.

The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.

If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.

Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.

Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.

But fuck it. 

You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.

And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes. 

It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.

You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.

You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.

And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.

But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.

In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.

And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.

But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long. 

Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.

The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.

You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes. 

It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.

And you didn’t want to see this anymore. 

Not right now.

You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.

Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.

You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.

It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.

You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.

And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.

She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.

You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.

And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.

You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.

You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.

“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.

The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.

Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”

And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.

But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?

“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.

One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.

But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.

“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.

“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.

“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.

“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice. 

Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.

Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it. 

It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.

“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.

“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.

“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“

It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.

You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.

Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.

That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.

He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.

Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here. 

You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.

And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.

Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.

“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight. 

“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so. 

“And neither do you.”

Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite. 

Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.

Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.

He must do it on purpose.

“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.

“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.

And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.

Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.

Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.

But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.

“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer. 

And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.

But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.

“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”

Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion. 

Like yanking a weed out of a garden.

At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been. 

And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him. 

His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.

And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.

His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.

But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.

“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.

And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.

He noticed your bit of awe too.

That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.

“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”

And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.

“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.

He was pulling you now.

“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment

Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.

And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.

That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name. 

You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.

“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning? Did the news coos come?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?

But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.

“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”

His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.

You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.

And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it. 

You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.

Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.

And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space. 

He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row. 

Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.

Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.

“Come here.”

He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.

And you had to trek across this  “closet” just to reach him.

But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you. 

Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.

Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.

“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.

Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.

Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.

It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.

As usual.

But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.

“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.

His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders. 

You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.

But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.

Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him. 

Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.

“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”

Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.

He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.

“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.

“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”

“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.

And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.

“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”

Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began. 

In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.

And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.

So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.

A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.

“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.

“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.

He was actually preening you.

“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”

Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.

You needed to focus.

This was no game anymore.

“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.

Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.

“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.

“No.” You told the truth again.

The warlord scowled a bit.

“Well, I always talked to him about you.”

And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.

His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”

That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.

His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist. 

“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”

“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.

And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.

“You were there that night too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.

“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.

He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.

And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.

It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.

“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.

The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.

And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.

So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.

A sickening sound.

“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”

But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.

“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.

He thought he was the only victim here.

He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.

You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.

His teeth were bared again.

“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.

“Give it back to me.”

You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.

“Bear me my new Corazon.” 

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[girlymatsu]

13. does your self insert have any information about their family?

omg yes… so Erina decided to stay in Japan in her adulthood, but her family had moved out of the country but she still sees them every now and then..

Erina’s mom is bougie beauty Queen and likes to live in luxury, jokes around too much and doesn’t take things seriously unless she’s upset. She takes a lot of pride in looking young, and she puts a lot of pressure on Erina to take care of her looks to a detriment amount. She’s often quite tone deaf on reading emotions, but tries to mean well…

She’s a spoiled and too childish for her age, but quite the lonely woman and never feels fulfilled.

Erina’s dad is the sole bread winner, the reason why Erina was mostly raised in Japan was because of his career there. He is a workaholic and relatively a reserved pushover of a man, but he has a low tolerance of being bothered in his free time. He tries to be stone faced and unbothered, but he is quite stubborn and retreats in silent tantrums.

Erina’s older brother: A stubborn and reckless guy who mostly lives estranged from the family, but reaches out when he needs something. He caused Erina quite a bit of hardship as he would take a lot of things from her and cross a lot of her boundaries. A lot of drama in the family was caused because of his outlandish behavior, and he’s often got himself tangled in problematic people. Nowadays he isn’t as bothersome, but Erina doesn’t seem to mention him anytime family is brought up.

Erina’s family has a history of clashing quite a bit, and Erina grew up very conflict averse in response to this.. and Erina, despite being not very good at living independently, had been the first to move out and be on her own for quite some time

Erina loves her parents despite their flaws and they love her very much too as she was the sensitive baby who didn’t cause too much trouble for them, but as a result they don’t know Erina too well when she was a teen and now as an adult.

They all have puppy ears and buck teeth of their own..

[imavikingo]

I was thinking on when Steve lost Bucky for the 3rd time (1st when he was drafted, 2nd when he was told he was MIA, 3rd when he fell) he tried to get drunk to forget, right? If he did that then...

What did he do when he lost him for the 6th time? (4th when he escaped, 5th when Bucky was in cryo, 6th the snap)

I mean technically Bucky died twice, but Steve lost him six times already.

And of he tried to get blind drunk once of those times- did he self-harm in other ways too?

To dull the pain? He can't get drunk, he heals quickly, he can't die easily either, so what did he do?

He wouldn't want to die when he knows for a fact that Bucky is alive ofc, but I can't see him acting normally or without a little bit of reckless energy.

To dull the pain and disappoinment (he can't feel like that, that's Bucky's choice -Cryo-. But how it hurts him tho).

(unrelated to this line of thought but it is relevant to the idea regardless)

That's why I can't fathom the idea of Steve abandoning Bucky in endgame.

He lost him 6 six (6) times already and he just... Went away? To a woman he only kissed once? After all he did for him, the pain and loss?

Even if you don't ship them, you have to think that to be really ooc on Steve's part. Everything in his character arc in the MCU is related to Bucky (and loss). Yes he liked Peggy, but he didn't suffer nor mourn her the same way he mourned Bucky (She was alive, but had dementia and was also very old, and had her own life).

His feelings for Peggy were more a "what if" and lost possibilities than anything.

She was an idea, a fantasy (that's why Wanda used that when fighting with him, right?). Not something real.

He wanted to be with her, but he didn't really knew her or love her (at least I don't think so).

She was the first woman that saw him for him after all. Before everything. But that's it.

He liked her for that (and her strong personality too) but did he love her? He didn't try to get on dates after he was defrosted because he knew people would only see Captain America, not Steve Rogers. He needed to represent an ideal and knew no one would understand (the pain, loss) and have the patience to be with him. That’s why he also highlighted the shared life experience thing.

So she was comforting, reassuring in a toxic and unhealthy kind of way (memories and fantasy aren't healthy when used like that). But still a what if and lost opportunity. He had to let her go at one point. And he did(!) But they had to fuck it up…

I mean... it's the same thing when you're still hung up on an ex. You want to think of the possibilities, the what ifs, the "what could have been" But when you go back to them nothing is like you remembered, nothing is like you wanted and you are dissatisfied and disappointed.

(Because all of that was in your head, it wasn't real).

And besides, he knew she had a life of her own (a fulfilling one at that) so what, he was selfish enough to fuck that up too? Without helping HIM? Without saving HIM? Abandoning HIM? After just being brought to life? After grieving him for another five years? Bucky was his best friend, his companion, his best pal…

He wouldn't do that to him. He would die before hurting Bucky (as they already stablished for most of the fucking movies) He even was like “You don’t understand” when Peggy talked to him in the bars ruins.

I think in canon (not ooc/EG)Steve would entertain the idea, but would decide to just keep it as that: An idea, a fantasy. And move on like he already did before.

Also the idea that it was a Peggy from an alternative universe is flawed because he abandoned HIS Bucky, even if in the other universe he helped or whatever.

In HIS UNIVERSE he abandoned his best friend? Not believable. And the logic of “oh it didn’t change their timeline because it was another one” is also stupid.

They already fucked up with Steve fighting 2012!Steve and also telling him about Bucky (creating another universe more than likely). And they were supposed to be undetected. Not create new universes. Thats also why I’m so keen on the idea of Steve being in a prison or something. He already fucked up once, twice if you think he went to the past to stay.

How can he be free while fucking up the timelines? Yeah, nah.

Also… they implied Steve can’t age in a movie if I remember correctly…. How did he become old?

And the idea that he went to Peggy because “Tony told him to have a life outside of captain america” is fucked up. So what? He relates his Bucky’s existence with work? FUCK OFF. Endgame Steve is fucked up and the worst character assassination I’ve ever seen.

They were just too annoyed with the fans because we ship Stucky (even tho they used that to promote the movies in panels and stuff, hypocrites -​I remember clearly the producers? of the movie talk about gay characters and the actors talk about Stucky in those panels for then…be one of the russos in like 1 second and have that shit ass, fuck ass ending for Steve and Bucky. That shit was vile-).

im also annoyed with some people that now shit on Steve when umh… did you see the movies? The other movies? Not only Endgame? (Btw the only one that got a “good ending” was Tony because he died as a hero in front of everyone -even tho he didn’t want to help at first because he had a good life, the ONLY ONE OF THEM might I add-, everyone else got worse, is dead or they’re neglected and treated as haha funny character or haha funny moment)

Im all for ships and ideas and headcanons (even when I hate them with passion, you do you) but don’t try and use this character assassination as an excuse to shit on Steve. If you NEED to shit on a character for your ship to work, then you’re not doing a good job at it or your ship sucks. Idk what to tell you.

[mysticsnoopy]

i will forever think about this panel and how it shows usagi's character

[artemx746]

really hope it becomes much more clear in the future of fool's gold that the foreclaimers aren't bad because they don't have empathy, but rather because they based their society on people having a set "value" and killing people who aren't "Valuable enough". Plus they also tortured a god for 300+ years

[vigilskeep]

Whenever I think about your Keir I think about Bethany telling Anders he reminds her of Malcom. I’m sure that won’t ever affect Keir ever.

bethany is my favourite mage bc she never misses with that psychic damage

but really he and anders aren’t even a thing in act 1 so it’s less like “PLEASE stop comparing my crush to our father” and more like “oh fuck off i spend my entire life trying to act like our dad and one (1) mage rolls up and suddenly he’s dad??”

[writerfae]

I am very talkative today, it seems! I hope you don't mind!

I have an interesting question, because though I don't know the answer, I have a good guess!

But Endre would want to know this way more than me.

To Endre Henry would seem like the ideal big brother (cause he is). Even knowing that he left Aiden, he'd still seem perfect to Endre because he sees how they act around echother. He sees how Henry still looks out for Aiden, and he hears about how they were as kids.

And Endre, who's trying to be a better big brother, who regrets the way he treated his siblings in the past would really admire him.

But in one of his guilt fuled, self-deprecating moments, he would surely ask something like this, and I want to hear what Henry would answer:

Endre: H... how did you do it? You were carrying so much pain. You were out of place. Your mom died. You bacame a vessel for your father's grief, just because you looked like her. You had to care for both him and your brother and Aiden... he didn't have to carry as much. You had to make sure he didn't. You did make sure he didn't, so how did you never get jealous? How come you never wanted to switch places? How did you never take it out on him? How come... how come I wasn't more like you?

Please answer as Henry if you can!

I don’t mind at all! In fact I’m happy for every ask I get from you ^^

I feel really sorry for Endre. I think Henry would too. He’d probably tell him something like this:

I am not an heir like you. I didn’t have a whole kingdom to worry about. All I have is my family and they are everything to me. I was taught from my mother from a very young age on to do what is best for my family and that stuck with me. Especially after losing my mom. I had to keep looking after them, like I promised her.

It was really hard, yes, and often I hated it. But for me, it was something I had to do. Someone had to keep this family from falling apart and I did it. Because I’m the eldest child. Because I love my family. And no matter how hard it can be, love is not a burden. I had to take responsibility. My father couldn’t and my mother was gone and Aiden was just a child.

And I wanted him to be a child. See, the thing is that unlike you (I assume), who had to prepare for a reign all your youth, I had a pretty carefree childhood. Sure, there was this secret I carried, but still, I was happy. When I was eight, I got to learn and play and joke around. It wouldn’t have been fair if I didn’t let Aiden have the same experience. I’ve never been jealous of Aiden for getting to be a child, cause I got to do it as well when I was his age.

And that makes the difference, I think. You never were allowed to experience being a child in the way your siblings did. I get why that would make you jealous. You know, I never told anyone but Callan before, but when I was younger, I sometimes found myself envying Aiden for being our father’s biological son. It’s not like Milan loved Aiden more, he’s always treated me the same gentle way, yet the two had a sort of connection that him and I didn’t have and it was obvious to me. So it is not like I never got jealous, but jealousy is an ugly feeling. And like all negative emotions, it needs an outlet, so it won’t eat us alive. Again, that’s something my mother taught me. (What we learn from our mothers really shape us as a person, I think.) For me, that outlet was going to the woods. It cleared my head, sorted my thoughts and made me calm down.

I don’t know how you were raised and I can only guess from what I know from Callan how much pressure there was on you ever since you were a child. But if I had to assume, I think you lacked such an outlet and to protect yourself, you started letting your negative emotions out on your siblings. You know as well as me that that’s not the right way, but you didn’t know any better. Growing up takes time for a reason. If you have to grow up too fast, like you and me, you can act mature all you want, but certain things, certain emotions and processes simply aren’t fully developed yet. Deep down you’re still not an adult, you are just a child keeping up an act all the time. Not just in front of others, but also in front of yourself. And that can lead to miscalculations and wrong decisions.

Like you mistreating your siblings. Like me leaving behind my brother. Because that’s the thing. I am by far not perfect, I haven’t always been the best brother in the past. But Aiden has forgiven me for that, just like your siblings forgave you, so all that is left is to do better in the future. Give yourself time to grow. You have acknowledged your mistakes and your mistakes have been forgiven, so now it is time to forgive yourself. There is no need to look back, look ahead instead. Look at your siblings, meet them eye to eye.

[butwhatifidothis]

Ultimately, I think one of the worst things Hopes does wrt its writing of Claude is take out all of the complexities and contradictions that had made him so interesting to begin with.

OG Claude lies and manipulates people and closes himself off while still searching for the truth and wanting people to come together and be open with each other, because of how his traumas meld together with his dreams. He says that he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants and shows off opportunistic tendencies and then buckles at the first sight of innocents getting hurt, because no matter how much he wants what he wants he still prioritizes the lives of the people around him over anything else. He knows of people's capacity to hurt others for petty or illogical reasons - was raised with that knowledge beating its existence into him - and yet still dreams of a world where people of different lands and cultures can still be friends, because that is how tightly he holds onto his dreams. He's a kind person with the capacity for being a dick, and his contradictions add on so much to his character; they in large part are his character.

Hopes Claude? He lies and manipulates people and closes himself off... and that's it. He says he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants... and he does. He knows of people's capacity to hurt others for petty or illogical reasons... and has no real dreams of stopping it (or dreams of anything in the future really, by his own admission) and he indulges in that very behavior himself, seemingly without any awareness. He is untrustworthy, and manipulative, and opportunist... and that's it. What you see is what you get. And if this were a character unto themselves, if we're kind and we ignore all of the other issues with Hopes!Claude's writing, that would be a fun enough villain to follow around.

But it's not; this is supposed to be Claude. This is a character who has so much of his foundations be built on the idea that what he presents on the surface isn't all that he seems. That he's more than a character who is just "tee hee I'm only pretending to be nice but I'm actually eeeeevil evil evil evil evil evil evil," but someone who both uses kindness as a means to an end and embodies it genuinely. Warm yet calculated, a good man with real flaws - THAT is who Claude is. Hopes Claude is who Claude is if you strip him of any complexity - He Is Only Pretending To Be Good, But Actually He Is Bad.

He's just... easier to swallow, in a sense. Claude is a good person who is willing and able to do bad things, but only up to a very specific, very clear point, all for a good dream he's held onto for years and plans extensively to make a reality in the future; Clyde is a shit person who's willing to do everything short of bombing specifically whatever land he himself is ruling, all for what essentially amounts to no concrete purpose. There's no need to think about Clyde as hard, since he just does what he does because he's doing it and that's enough.

It's why I'm glad I am Dev-Approved to just fuckin' ignore Hopes entirely as a horrific fever dream, because Hopes does not understand what made Claude so lovable at all

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Where is this angry-at-everything-all-the-time-Jason. Between him and Bruce he’s the only one being reasonable.

[clockworkcheetah]

yknow im surprised there arent more fics with lydia and amanda

[mitsuki91]

Every time someone said we didn't understand the characters because we only see the movie and we need to read the book... Well lol, guess what, I read the book and now I am more sure then Lucy Gray was a manipulator, that Sejanus was dumb, and that Coryo was not born evil (he is unhinged and he become evil later, but not at the start and no even until the very end of the book).

[britneyshakespeare]

The gaslighting Duke of Vienna

[dadatello]

Is there anything Dadatello is purposefully doing differently in raising Minitello and Leo to the way that Splinter raised him the first time? Also, is there anything specific he has purposefully carried on doing with his boys that Splinter did with him? Any traditions or anything like that?

"You know, I don't often show emotion, but it's scientifically proven to be beneficial for a child's development. Which is to say... this is important for the kids.

Losing Leonardo at the end there... had me thinking. I shouldn't act like I take my family for granted. He was a champion. And a damn good leader, too.

Just don't tell 'Nardo Junior all of that. It'll go to his head."

[lpbear]

I can’t believe they made me prefer Shyamalan’s adaptation. I can’t believe they’ve done this to me.

[gayemoji]

im going to kill a certain vicadin addict so bad. not before i give him some actual unrequited love first. i love him but he is so stupid.