#tw.death

Doflamingo thinks himself a good owner.

You're clean, well-groomed, clothed, fed and loved. Entertained, too. He stuffs you into your crate only at night - even if he has to leave you behind (which he rarely does), you stay with the rest of the family, not in that little cage. He's responsible. Loving. Tender.

But even he can forget about some things.

Maybe it should have been obvious, since you haven't been neutered. But to his defense, it's rather easy to forget that you, when stripped down, are just a mammal - blunt little teeth, yappy antics and bug-eyed, watery stares fool him so easily, make you sexless and too cute to have any needs of your own. And with his frequent appetites sated and you chewing through the leather of his newest chaise, you're just his mutt, feisty but spoiled. And really, who likes to think about their precious little darling dog being aroused? Not him, that's for sure. You're supposed to be something soft to spoil, something to lighten up his days.

Unfortunately, his pesky habit of kicking you whenever you drool just a little too much on his expensive pants (among other things) leads to the discovery of uncomfortable truths. One peculiarly placed hit, and something happens that he never expected - you yelp in pain, and then it climbs out of your throat, grotesque and breathy. A moan. And suddenly, something occurs to him. Makes him go down the lane of unsavory thoughts he never wanted to have when it comes to you.

He has neglected you. Greatly.

In all these years, he has been nothing but selfish - always enjoyed someone hanging off his arm, someone to warm his bed - while you had gone without, never had the possibility to get some relief. That's why you're getting winded over a simple kick to your crotch, poor, pathetic little thing. It's so wrong, so fucking depraved - he didn't train you to be so needy, to have to find pleasure in something so brutish. Yet here you are. Writhing in pain and something else as you try to shield your most sensitive parts from further intrusions.

He's suddenly going silent, brooding above you. Something needs to be done, he realizes.

The answer seems obvious - he should get you someone you can play around with, to let off steam, to indulge in the cruder parts of your nature. At first, the thought is appalling, but the more he ruminates and lets different scenarios play in his head, the more he sees that it has to be done. And it could be quite a bit of fun for him as well, if done correctly.

Arrangements are made almost too easily.

It's only fair that he gets you someone from that heap of trash you called your home. Maybe you even knew each other, before he found a place on his lap for you - it matters not, as long as the specimen is someone you would have fucked way back when he first took you. Doflamingo figures the man is up to your tastes, picks someone who looks healthy and strong. After all, he only wants the best for you - if he gets to pick his entertainment du jour, why shouldn't he at least get you someone appealing? (He also doesn't need any suspicious activity on Dressrosa, especially because he doesn't intend to have the man turned into a toy. He has his own visions for this - but that's not for little lap dogs like you to know.)

The male is taken, Doflamingo's room prepared and you - naive, stupid, and stunted that you are - follow him as you always do and walk right into his trap. It's nothing elaborate, really. But it does the job. Just the bound male, a flick of his wrist to restrain and oh-

He can play with the two of you like puppets. Of course, you're all confused. He rarely (if ever) uses his powers on you, so the sudden restraints feel like some sort of betrayal. Your big eyes question him, looking somehow even more pathetic underlined by your fat cheeks. He doesn't know if he should tut or laugh at you, that's how delicious your expression is - and it gets better and better as he tears your flimsy, carefully picked out pants apart. You are so utterly shocked, so taken by surprise it looks like you're short-circuiting. Only when the bigger man pounces on you - because Doflamingo is making him do so - you try to kick, bite, scratch, suddenly coming back to reality. But poor little fat pup, you're breathless and limp after a few minutes of struggle against his restraints and heave out your tears when your breath leaves you behind. Your fat ass up in the air, you can do very little with the way he's holding you in position.

You have to let it happen, even as the snot pools on the floor.

It's for your own good. And to his great amusement. He keeps you like this, makes the man mount you, fuck you, defile you - keeps intently watching the scene in front of him, the way you blubber and cry out. It's kind of cute, really - you're both crying. Like some grotesque version of two young lovers taking each other's virginity, you're both stuttering out apologies and clutching what is closest to you, even if that is your ass in his case.

It gets boring rather quickly, though. And rather tiring on the hands, too.

So he lets the male go - who gets cross-eyed faster than he can realize he's been freed because there is suddenly a pistol aimed directly at his forehead. If he was crying before, he's downright hysterical now. It doesn't leave you unfazed, either - Doflamingo's precious little mutt is suddenly deadly silent, too afraid to squeak out even a tiny moan. A precious sight to him. Especially when the man finally pumps his load into you, his orgasm flat and fast and unsatisfying, because it's ripped from him entirely due to the way his body functions, not because this is in any way enjoyable to him. Doflamingo smiles as the male huffs out a sigh, weighing himself in a moment of false security and-

He pulls the trigger.

You scream - but only a second later, only when the man goes limp above you, only when blood and brains splatter all over your back. You scream and scream and scream until you're hoarse, until your voice gets wet underneath the vomit that suddenly leaves you. Doflamingo would click his tongue at the sight if he wasn't so busy laughing at your predicament. Really, he had forgotten how fun it is to terrorize you a little, had forgotten how quaint it can be when your stupid face goes from empty stupidity to sheer and utter fear, the kind one can taste on their tongue. You can be so entertaining when pushed a little and he can't help but revel in the tiniest sliver of nostalgia as he looks at you, beaten down and traumatized like the day he took you.

Still, he's getting you neutered the next chance he gets.

The light that shines above the town, as the earth rattles beneath. You softly tiptoe around the sleeping person as you rub the sleep out of your eyes, open the door to the cold midnight air. Something’s in the distance. Vague and big, it coils in the darkness as if looking for something, and a heaviness settles into your stomach. Have you ever met a God? 

Without a single thought, you set off towards the tower, trying to quiet your steps so as not to attract attention. It’s not a stretch to guess that whatever it is, it’s here for your plant. One you, and all the people nearby, need. The heavy rattling, the drilling noise gets louder and louder, until you’re sure that it’s right upon the town.

You slip through the door and sprint up three steps at a time until you reach the platform, taking a single deep breath as you take in the faint glow. The plant’s tired, you know this. She’s uncurled herself just barely, face hidden within her hands— sometimes you try to reach out to her. You place your hands on the tank, press your head against the glass. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” you promise, and as if hearing you, understanding you; the beautiful leaves slowly seem to bloom a little more.

A frightening mechanic screech fills the night, and whoever wasn’t awake before, surely startles as the entire town shakes. The building with it. You stumble to your knees and turn, just in time to watch the metal roof being ripped off and the bladed, robotic arms to slither in. The man lands with no sound, and blue eyes zero in on you— as you stand to place yourself between him and the plant. The whirring appendages sprouting from his back drip in blood, and it’s only then that you can hear the screaming and crying from outside.

“You can’t take her- she’s sick,” you say, wrapping your arms around it as if in a desperate embrace. Your bottom lip wobbles in the silence, one you fill with a plea. “She’ll die if you take her.” Barely half of his face is visible from underneath the hood, but he towers, and his mouth corners flatten when you shake your head. “Please don’t hurt her.” Crying continues, as your palms heat up. As light gets brighter and brighter in the cold room, and your eyes widen.

You turn to see that the plant’s opened up, and her hands are pressed back against the glass in response to yours— heat surging through your body as you gasp. Though your body stands between him and his prize, he too drops his shoulders, and the mean snarl that was on his face vanishes. It doesn’t last long, before she tuckers out— but it’s enough for you to stare back at him in shock, mouth falling open at the stunning display. Small orbs of light still rain down around you. “The plant—” You don’t get to finish, before one of the arms wraps around you and yanks you towards him; not disemboweling you in the process. The other arms pick up the plant and pull you all out of the building, through the mess of shacks he’s destroyed.

“Wait, please! I-” you try to fight against the blades, but it’s no use. You only cut your skin open further, being dragged through the street kicking and screaming. “Stop, my family! Let me go!” Your arm is caught within a hand, as your sister hangs on with all her weight and almost pulls your hand clean off, planting her feet. She’s crying, and her eyes are bloodshot and frightened. You’re hurting. “Aw, aw!” You say her name, try to cling onto her fingers as hard as you can. Until you go blue. But it’s no fair fight— and as soon as sweat makes you slip, you’re out of her reach.

As you watch her wipe blood splatters off of her cheeks, crying out for you.

He’s moving too fast. The image of your destroyed town doesn’t stay for long enough for you to print it into your mind.

+

The furniture is cold when you touch them, dragging yourself around the room with a monotone sigh. Aside from that blue haired freak who glares, or the Doctor, Knives doesn’t get a lot of company. They rushed off in some state earlier, where Nai had barked at you to stay where you were— but you don’t doubt they’ll be back soon. You’ve seen what the blond can do. You’ve seen what’s left behind when someone tries to steal his precious plants. The camp is cold and metallic and clean, and you’ve learned that he doesn’t feel these things the way you do.

Instead you’re stuck in this room, and wait for the alarm to stop blaring soon. You place yourself on the well-kept leather seat, and softly press a few keys of the organ— jumping when the door slams open too violently. You cling onto the instrument as you turn, only to stare in confusion. Your mouth cracks open, and you frown. “Where’s master Knives? Are you here for the plants?”

He’s got almost the same face, but it’s not him. Hair too long, eyes too gentle. He’s got mechanical parts where Nai doesn’t— as he stands in the door disarmed. “I’m here for-”

“Vash, step aside.” The deep voice fills the room, and the golden blond aims his gun now at Nai. You can’t help it, you hurry over to his side. Knives at least, has shown that he doesn’t have the intent to harm you. This stranger however, keeps glancing between the two of you with frightening precision. Nai’s quick to pull you behind him out of direct reach, and tangles his hand with yours as you stare. They must be twins, your mind supplies. He squeezes your smaller, softer hand in his, then glances over at you. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no, I’m fine.” When you manage to get over your shock at the intrusion, you want to pout. It’s not like you trust him. He stole you, locked you up- you have every right to be angry. But still. He’s kept you from the Doctor’s experiments. And if Legato or any of the other ones had their way, you probably wouldn’t be so cared for. Dolled up. How should you understand this? You cling to his arm, as you peek your face from behind him. “What’s happening?”

The deep voice sounds again, and then the extra appendages come out gleaming in the low light, careful not to nick you in the process. “Vash is just leaving, pretty. Don’t worry.” He brushes a quick hand over your head, before pushing you down to the floor behind the couch. “Stay there.” They’re both back down the hall quicker than you can blink, leaving you behind in the otherwise empty room with only your heart thumping in your chest.

+

Your legs get yanked further down the bed, as almost luminescent eyes stare down at you. You wish you could say you were asleep, but Legato turned out to be right. Even master Knives has urges— that are now being inflicted upon your body as he nestles between your legs again. “Nai, promise me- I want you to go check on my family. I want to make sure they’re safe.” He’s ignoring you, circling your nipples with playful fingers before he leans down to kiss you all over. “Knives~”

After he sucks another hickey into you, he gets nose to nose with you, before dipping to kiss you there too- and biting your bottom lip as he groans. “You’re so whiny.”

“You promised. If I stayed with you… you’d take care of them. My sister and my parents will worry.”

His handsome face is always so awfully blank. In sharp contrast with the brightness of his eyes, and all that you can convince yourself to see in them. It’s so much easier to sacrifice yourself, when you know that you’re doing the right thing. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and pout. “You took the plant… All I want is for them to be okay.”

“They’re taken care of,” he mumbles robotically, before raising a brow. “I promise. Wouldn’t lie to you.” The hands instantly start roaming again, as his thighs push yours open to create more room for his hips, and the way he’s pushing inside you ever so slowly. The low groan he lets out is rumbly, cockhead stretching you around him so that your back arches. The wetness between your legs is hot, and ever since the first time, he’s wanted to be inside you as much as possible. The slick sounds fill the room as he sits back and watches his cock slide into you, squeezing your hips tight.

You cling onto him when he bottoms out, and forces another kiss onto your mouth. Whispers your name as he pulls out, and fucks back into you with a grunt. You can’t help but be grateful that master Knives isn’t all that bad.