Doflamingo

In the opulent halls of Mariejois, within the sanctuary of an ornate chamber, a newborn emerged into the world, cradled in the loving arms of his mother. As his eyes fluttered open, he was met with the tender gaze of his mother, who whispered softly, "My precious son, henceforth you shall be known as Doflamingo." Yet, to the astonishment of all present, the infant's lips formed a different name. "Daf... Doflamingo?" he muttered in disbelief, his gaze darting to his tiny fingers and toes.

In that moment of perplexity, Doflamingo couldn't help but utter, "Holy Mother, I became Doflamingo in One Piece after that bullet blasted off my head in World War 3?" The sheer absurdity of his situation lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of infancy and the opulence of his surroundings.

Meanwhile, as his mother cradled him, she began to nurse him with tender care, offering him sustenance from her breast. Doflamingo, though bewildered by his circumstances, instinctively latched on, drawing nourishment from her milk as he suckled gently, a fragile yet poignant moment amidst the grandeur of his birthplace and the echoes of a tumultuous past.

[Ding...]

[System Activating...]

[Distributing Starter Package]

[- Talent Enhanced]

[- Bloodline Purified]

[- Poisonmelder x 100]

Description: A sinister specter of diminutive size. With its venomous sting, it orchestrates a symphony of slow demise within unsuspecting bodies. Hidden in shadows, it infiltrates its prey, spreading its lethal toxin with stealthy precision. Upon discovery, it melds seamlessly with the blood of its victim, leaving only a haunting memory of its deadly touch.

As Doflamingo's gaze fixed upon the screen before him, detailing the contents of the starter pack, a curious sensation washed over his body. A wave of warmth enveloped him, suffusing his limbs with newfound vitality. His breathing eased, becoming steady and rhythmic, as if each inhalation brought him closer to a state of serene tranquility. 

In tandem with this physical transformation, Doflamingo's suckling at his mother's breast became more fervent, his pace quickening as he eagerly drank the nourishing milk. With each swallow, he felt a surge of energy coursing through him, revitalizing his weary form. And as the gentle lullaby of maternal warmth enveloped him, Doflamingo succumbed to the embrace of sleep, his dreams adorned with the promise of newfound power and untold adventures yet to come.

Finally, as Doflamingo stirred from his slumber, he found himself nestled within the confines of a luxurious cradle. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he instinctively reached out to the system that had bestowed upon him such extraordinary gifts. "System," he called out in his mind, but there was no immediate response. Undeterred, he tried again, this time speaking aloud, "Status."

Suddenly, as if in response to his command, the status interface materialized before him, shimmering into existence with ethereal grace.

Status:

Name: Doflamingo

Identity: Celestial Dragon

Age: Infant

Bloodline: Purified Celestial Bloodline

Haki: None

Devil Fruit: None

Skills:

- None

Inventory:

- Poisonmelder x 100

Doflamingo's gaze shifted to the ample supply of Poisonmelders nestled within his inventory. "Poisonmelder, they are going to be of pretty good use to me," he murmured, a glimmer of anticipation dancing in his eyes.

Feeling the warmth of his mother's embrace, Doflamingo's thoughts turned to his current predicament. "What do I do now? I can't even crawl right now," he mused, still nestled beside her arm, cocooned in her comforting presence. Gazing upon her serene expression, he couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. "I will need to take care of that bastard, Homing, first," he declared inwardly.

Recalling the legacy of the Don Quixote family, Doflamingo's mind drifted to the responsibilities that awaited him. "But how can my mother handle being the head of the Don Quixote family?" he pondered. Then, a fragment of memory surfaced—an image of himself at eight years old, when his family relinquished their Celestial Dragon status.

With determination etched upon his features, Doflamingo resolved to reclaim his birthright. "I need to take care of the other branches too," he concluded, his voice tinged with bitterness. "God knows how much they should have stolen the property which should belong to me by that foolish Homing." The resolve in his eyes hardened as he prepared to embark on the arduous path that lay ahead, his destiny intertwined with the fate of the Don Quixote family.

As the door swung open, Homing stepped into the room, his voice filled with concern. "Are you fine, matriarch?" he inquired, his eyes scanning the room before settling on the sleeping infant cradled in his wife's arms.

The matriarch stirred from her slumber, her voice soft yet reassuring. "I am fine, and the delivery also went well," she replied, her gaze tender as she looked upon the little Doflamingo nestled in her embrace.

Homing extended his hand to take his son, a smile playing on his lips. But as soon as Doflamingo felt the touch of his father's hand, he recoiled, kicking out with surprising force, his tiny features contorted in defiance. "Fuck you! Don't touch me with your negative IQ!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with venom.

A pained expression flickered across Homing's face, but he attempted to brush it off with a nervous chuckle. "Looks like he's quite the naughty one," he remarked, his attempt at levity falling flat in the face of Doflamingo's aggression.

Observing the scene unfold, the matriarch couldn't help but smile at her son's spirited nature. "Don't be naughty, Doffy," she cooed, her voice a soothing melody as she cradled him in her arms once more.

With Doflamingo nestled against her chest, the matriarch drifted back into the realm of sleep, her son's rhythmic breathing serving as a lullaby, a peaceful respite amidst the tumultuous emotions swirling within their familial bonds.