My original stupid drawings that inspired the comic dear @momosweetpeach made for me 🥹

Corazon survived imprisoned in Impel Down for years, until Luffy finally broke him out along with the other prisoners AU 🤣

1. Figarland Men

2. Older Garling

3. Red, bby Doffy & Anna (Alor)

4. Baby Doffy

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But of course! And oohhhh, I see exactly what you’re trying to do. :P

I absolutely love the idea. Especially with Doffy involved! He’d be all over that, in his own unique way, of course.

By the way, the lampposts are reinforced with diamond cores. So, it’s pretty much impossible for many to break out of those restraints right away.

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Warning! Hinting at NSFW!

Donquixote Doflamingo

The cliffs of Coral Spine Bluff on the north side of Stone Huts Island overlooked the sea in a sheer drop, framed by bursts of crashing waves below. It was a popular lookout spot. Scenic and peaceful. At least, until today.

Now, silence ruled.

A crowd had gathered just beyond the edge of the bluff, wide-eyed and unmoving, and with their breath caught in their throats as they looked upon the bound man at the cliff's edge.

And not just any man.

Donquixote Doflamingo.

Tall, imposing and with a lean chest wrapped in pink feathers and exposed muscle beneath, he stood with one wrist shackled to a titanium pylon by a sea prism stone cuff. Even in restraint, his presence was downright monstrous. An apex predator frozen into a moment of stillness. You had moved in a blur, barely quicker than his reflexes, ducking under the sudden arc of his arm as he'd tried to grab you. His fingers had grazed your shoulder, just enough to remind you how close you'd come to being caught. Your heart thundered, your pulse roaring in your ears, but you didn’t stop. You slipped in just close enough to snap the cuff shut around his left wrist, feeling the faint tremble of risk replaced by a sharp burst of control.

The sunlight glared off his signature shades, but nothing could mask the slow, devilish curve of his grin.

You had done it. Somehow.

Your chest still heaved from the effort of the confrontation. Your hood was up, cloak fluttering behind you in the wind as you retreated down the path. Your ship was already prepped to take off. The town below buzzed with disbelief, but you didn’t linger long enough to revel in the shock of the citizens. You had no intention of staying to bask in this temporary moment of victory.

Not with him.

Not when his presence still clung to the back of your mind like a thread you couldn’t shake off.

You hadn’t said anything to him. No parting words. No quips. Just the snap of the cuffs and the immediate sprint toward the docks. Your instincts screamed louder than any triumph.

He didn’t thrash. He didn’t snarl, either.

He only watched. Unmoving. Still.

That was until you reached the ship’s deck and looked back.

His head tilted slowly, sunglasses catching the sunlight. That smile; the kind that made your skin crawl and spine freeze, widened into something amused and sinister all at once.

And then came his voice. Low. Drawling. Playful. A velvet threat soaked in something warm and terrible.

"You are only delaying the inevitable."

Your blood ran cold, and the words sunk into your chest like an anchor. The sea breeze stilled. The air itself stopped moving.

You could’ve sworn even the gulls fell silent in that moment.

The space between you and the bluff stretched wider with each second. And yet his presence loomed even larger. Like it had taken root in the very air.

He fed on the unease like it was foreplay. The tension in your shoulders only deepening his pleasure.

His smirk widened just a fraction more. Slow and deliberate. As if savoring your reaction was more satisfying than any physical retaliation. His head tilted slightly further, as though admiring you from afar. Like a toy that had just slipped out of reach but not yet out of his control. And just for a heartbeat… So brief it might have gone unnoticed… He trembled.

A subtle shiver rolled through his shoulders. Frustration. Hunger. That instinctive, possessive rage restrained just enough to keep him still. It made what he said next feel even more unsettling…

"The next time restraints are used," he purred, voice laced with thick innuendo, "it will be in my bed. You'll be the one trembling then.~"

That laugh. Slow. Drawn out. Soaked in anticipation.

"Fufufufufu!~"

The sound echoed off the cliffs, riding the wind like a haunting promise. Every villager present flinched.

You turned away without a word, the air tighter around your chest than ever before. The sails caught, the ropes strained and the ship creaked to life.

But your pulse didn't settle.

Not when you could still hear him.

Not when you knew he meant it.

Sakazuki Akainu

The docks of Stone Huts Island buzzed with tension, and the usual bustle of merchants and fishmongers were reduced to whispers and wide eyes. Just off the plaza, near the storefronts shaded by awnings and lanterns, a titanium lamp post now bore a new, very jarring addition.

Admiral Sakazuki Akainu was chained to it.

One wrist locked tight in sea prism stone. The restraint bit into his skin, veins twitching with controlled fury. His crimson uniform, now dusted from the scuffle, still clung to his massive frame like armor. The Justice kanji on his cloak’s back looked more ominous than noble now.

His jaw was clenched, the hard lines of his face locked in a snarl that simmered with rage and something far more sinful.

You had done it. You had actually done it.

Your cloak billowed in the sea breeze as you made your way toward the ship waiting at the end of the dock. Your steps were steady, but your heart was racing. You were still recovering from the sprint, the gamble. You hadn’t expected it to work. Not with him. But you had struck in that narrow window, when his guard was just low enough. The risk had nearly cost you.

Even in the thick of it, he hadn’t used his Devil Fruit powers.

You knew he could have scorched the stone beneath your feet or turned the air itself molten. But he didn’t. Not here. Not with civilians present. And certainly not with you in reach. He didn’t want to hurt you. No. You realized now. Not even close. That restraint wasn’t just physical. It was personal.

And that gave you just enough time to act.

You had ducked under his reach and snapped the cuff shut around his wrist, retreating in the same breath. It had been close. Close enough that your back had nearly broken out in a sweat at the heat of the proximity. One more second, and you’d have been in his grip.

But now?

Now he stood like a volcano forced into stillness. Surrounded by townspeople too afraid to speak and too transfixed by the rare sight of an Admiral subdued.

“You think anyone else gives a damn about you?” Akainu barked suddenly, his voice sharp but composed. Measured in a way only a Marine could manage in public. “You think any of them know who you really are?”

Locals flinched, some unsure of what he actually means, a few backing away as his voice cut through the plaza like heat. But he didn’t look at them.

He looked at you.

“You just do not get it,” he growled, eyes narrowing beneath the shadow of his cap. “I’m the only one who sees you. You can run. Hell, you can chain me. But it won’t change that.”

He didn’t shout it like a threat. He meant it. Every word.

And you knew better than to mistake these words- that kind of obsession, for anything else.

You reached the gangplank. One hand gripped the railing. But something inside made you pause.

And when you turned back…

There it was.

Not the cold, cruel sneer of an Admiral known for incinerating pirates.

It was that smile.

A heated grin. Deep. Hungry. The smile of a man shackled not just to a post, but to the thought of you. His gloved fists clenched tight at his sides, and though rage still shimmered behind his eyes, it warred with something much more dangerous. Something that flushed across his cheeks in a soft, unsettling hue.

A blush.

High on his cheeks, stark against the weathered bronze of his skin, it stood out like a brand. You hadn’t known Akainu could blush. Not a man built of lava and law. But there it was. Undeniable. And it made the hunger behind his eyes all the more disturbing.

You stared back. Just for a moment. The ship rocked beneath your feet, the wind curling around your cloak, but you stayed rooted in place. Drawn to the sight of him. Not out of victory, but from the chill crawling up your spine.

In that moment, you understood exactly what he was thinking.

He wasn’t only angry because you had gotten away.

He was also thrilled that you’d dared to get close and defy him in the way that you did.

You hadn’t escaped.

You had ignited something deep, volatile and entirely yours.

And now it was only a matter of time before it came roaring back for you.

Sir Crocodile

The sun bore down upon Stone Huts Island, its tightly packed stone houses casting compact shadows across the winding alleys that twisted toward the busy port. This wasn’t some desolate battlefield. This was a vibrant hub, full of noise, motion and oblivious normalcy. And that was precisely why Crocodile had chosen it. Word had placed you here, long enough to act. He would strike in a place you'd never expect to be vulnerable. In plain sight.

But he miscalculated.

The sharp clink of sea prism stone cuffs broke the salty breeze as Crocodile released a guttural snarl, his left wrist locked tight, the second cuff coiled around a titanium lantern post. The metal barely groaned beneath the sudden strain. His instincts had fired instantly the moment you'd lunged. He saw it coming, but too late. His abilities, stripped by the sea prism stone, couldn’t activate fast enough to slip free, to ensnare you in turn. You were a blur. He’d almost caught you. Almost reversed it all.

Instead, he was bound.

His fur-lined coat slipped from his shoulders in the clash, falling into a heap of fabric and dust at his feet.

For a split second, fear had surged through you. Getting that close was like leaping into a lion’s jaws. His sheer size, that suffocating presence… Every single part of him screamed danger. But the instant the cuff snapped into place, that fear evaporated, replaced by a cold, relieved certainty.

The trap had worked. He was locked. And his rage surged, thick as cigar smoke in his throat.

He bared his teeth for only a second. A flash of untamed hatred. His heavy-lidded eyes, burning beneath thin, furrowed brows, locked right on you. The long scar across his nose looked even more severe in the tightness of his glare. Strands of black hair had slipped from their slicked-back hold, framing his face in disarray, and he looked like a man one twitch away from snapping everything around him.

At his feet, his cigar lay crushed beneath his boot. His golden hook, gleaming and inert, gave a useless twitch. He could still flex it, but it had been neutralized. Useless and mocking in the light.

Curious townsfolk had gathered and formed a nervous semicircle along the edge of the plaza. Locals. Dockhands. A child tucked behind a merchant’s leg. No one spoke. No one dared. Even bound, Crocodile exuded the weight of a monster. A Warlord subdued, but far from defeated.

They knew better than to look too long. Better than to speak.

And still, he smiled.

Not the slow, amused smirk of confidence.

This was thinner. Tighter. Sharpened into something almost venomous. You hadn’t merely escaped. You’d outplayed him. Lured him in. Outmaneuvered him where he was supposed to have every advantage.

Anyone else would already be dust for less. But you weren’t just anyone.

His eyes tracked your ship as it slipped from the docks, sails rippling in the wind. There you stood at the bow, composed beneath the deep hood of your cloak. You always hid your presence. Since the very beginning. Even now, as you drifted out of reach, you kept your distance cloaked.

But just as you turned away… Just as your head tilted back to face forward… It happened.

A flicker.

The ghost of a smirk. Small. Involuntary. Not for him. Not meant to taunt. Just a brief curl of satisfaction you didn’t even know you let slip.

He didn’t flinch, but his jaw locked hard and a muscle beneath his scar jumped. His shoulders coiled with renewed rage, the cuff biting into his wrist as he tested it again, knowing it was useless.

Not because of your guts. Not even because you’d caught him. But because of that smirk.

The unintentional insult. The accidental reminder that you had beaten him. And worse… You didn’t even mean to rub it in.

Your scent still lingered faintly. The moment you had locked him in place played over and over in his mind, each replay feeding the gnawing ache in his lower gut. Desire twisted inside him.

You hadn’t just won. You had stirred something.

He didn’t crave your blood. He never had. But what he always wanted from you ran even deeper now. Slower. The fire in your eyes. The edge in your voice. He wanted the look you’d give when the game turned. The moment of realization, not from afar, but close. Very, very close. From behind closed doors.

Next time, there would be no second chance.

It wouldn’t be a chase. It would be a claiming.

And when he caught you, because he would …. He wouldn’t stop at just metaphorical chains.

He would tether you to him, in every way.

Let the villagers remember this day. Let them tremble at the sight of a Warlord restrained.

This wasn’t defeat. This was obsession, bared for all to see.

where's my 20 million bro