Work Text:
Doffy's hands trembled as fingered the trigger of the gold-inlaid pistol he held to the back of his kneeling father's head.
He'd never shot someone before. He'd seen people shot. He'd seen people beaten to death– seen justice meted out in a dozen bloody ways.
His father was a worthless man who had caused nothing but suffering. His wretchedness had led to the death of his own wife, Doffy's beloved mother.
Killing him would be justice.
Killing him would make it right.
Doflamingo hated him. He wanted killing him to feel good.
Doffy pulled the trigger.
He felt only emptiness.