The world could barely handle one Donquixote Doflamingo. Too bad for them—there were two of you.

It was honestly unfair how much chaos the two of you could cause just by being in the same room.

You’d swap execution schedules, pit underlings against each other, and once—just once—you convinced Trebol that Doffy had a conscience.

He nearly cried in relief before you both revealed it was a joke, doubled over wheezing while Trebol squealed.

Matching sunglasses. Matching feather coats. Matching evil grins. “No, no, lets sell antidotes for the poisons that don’t exist.”

Two evil little shits, bound by spite and a love for the game. just there to cause pure misery.