A/N: I wrote this a year ago when that chapter came out.
Warnings: All of them.
churning churning churning on what to do with that traitor traitor traitor.
Oh, he knows.
He'll lure that traitor to the coliseum, and there in front of everyone, the whole of Dressrosa, he'll put holes into Law, enough holes to make a trypophobic shrink in terror.
Yes , he can see it now.
This is where he shoots Law; square blank, multiple shots through that scrawny body. That body that's got that filthy ink gratified and sprawled messily across- without permission. Law hadn't asked for his permission to decorate his canvas.
But here is where he hesitates.
Death isn't enough, not for this traitor, this piece of shit who thought he was good enough to take the great Donquixote Doflamingo on; who threw away the heart seat –the fucking heart seat Doflamingo had kept for him, all for him, ten years straight.
No, death wasn't enough.
Not with Law's pretty body all bloodied and bruised, those pouty lips busted from one too many hard punches – oh, Doflamingo's got something harder for him.
He'll stand over Law, throw a cheap few taunts;
"So much for avenging that bitch Cora."
"So much for being a hotshot warlord."
And oh, he'll strip him of his dignity
—starting with his pants.
They'll slip off easily, Law'll be too worn out to even put up much of the fight.
The crowd will go wild and cheer for the humiliation and subjugation of this shitty good for nothing rat. He'll show them just what Law is – a good-for-nothing fuckhole. no not a brother don't even call yourself that you piece of shit.
Objects can't do anything- they can't fight back, can't make good arguments, can't debate on why they deserve to remain in tact. Can't can't can't. Denied, Law.
Law's thighs, his lovely inner thighs will be covered in nasty plum patches, and Doflamingo'll lick each and every one them- to show the little bastard how weak he really is, that this body will respond to anything.
You've always been like that; easily swept away in the current with the right change in atmosphere.
He'll dip his fingers in the kid's blood, his fresh metallic tasting blood, and push and probe into him – can't be chaffing his dick now, right?
—Stretch him out because Doflamingo's a big guy, and oh he's gonna put a big hole in Law.
The crowd's watching in awe, maybe some of them stoking their cocks the sight of Law about to get fucked like a doll – a ruined doll who's only functioning part is its lubed up hole.
He's gonna claw and tear at Law's skin, Law's insides – and oh baby, he's gonna make Law beg and moan for him to stop, for Doflamingo to just fucking kill him ("Please Doflamingo") but oh Law,
you don't deserve death.
And when he's fucked Law, good and bloody, he'll use his gun-
-not to shoot just yet.
He'll first fuck Law with it.
Yes, that sounds good. Brutalize him with an object, a loaded gun –threatening to go off at any time should he struggle too much - whoops my finger might slip, Law. Bullet all the way up into your rectum, innards splattered thoroughly. You want the world to see you die like that? No? Now behave.
He'll fuck Law relentless, and force the filthy gun into the little shit's mouth as he fucks Law's puffy and torn hole one more time. Tan skin will be covered in fingerprints, and he'll fuck Law empty.
He's gonna tell him, gonna whisper in his ear, 'good boy' and yellow orbs will dilute, and Law will start to feel it. Law's gonna really start to feel it.
Oh can you feel it, Law?
Then he'll-
"Young Master?"
"….Yes, what is it?"
"You seemed to be out of it. Are you alright?"
"I was thinking about something. Don't concern yourself too much."