I don't have a good command of English yet. I hope you understand me, and if not, please ignore the request.
Could you do something with Doflamingo, Crocodile, Mihawk, and Shanks? Where they are rejected by the reader or she manages to escape and they don't see her after a long time and it's at a slave auction?
This is my first request, let's see if you understand me.
What Goes Around
Contents: Yan!Doffy, Yan!Crocodile, Yan!Mihawk and Yan!Shanks drabbles of them finding reader who escaped them at a slave auction.
A/N: Paputron a ti tambn te pido disculpas por tardarme putas tanto en escribir esto. Me voy a sincerar y admitir q la neta suelo procurar mucho a mis mutuals y a mis lectores hispanos. Si algun dia quieres volver a pedir algo sientete cn toda confianza y te juro q le voy a echar bolas pa q salga mas rapido. I love chu espero t guste.
more Doffy, Croco and Mihawk content here
more Shanks content here
TAG LIST/PROBLEMATIC TAG LIST
WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING AND ESCAPE ATTEMPTS, SLAVE AUCTIONS, YANDERE, STOCKOHOLM SYNDROME-ISH, RESCUING?, WHITE KNIGHTING???
Donquixote Doflamingo
Doflamingo felt stupid.
I mean, how could you have slipped away so easily? Like a little rat, you ran way and he didn't notice until your bedroom was empty and you simply vanished in thin air. He looked for you, God knows he looked for you. He moved heaven and earth to find you, and yet, you were still gone.
But he didn't expect to find you here.
A slave auction is not something he would normally attent. But he was bored, and something told him to go look. To see if he could find anything of value. And oh was that something right. You were there, not as a buyer, as a good. Dressed pretty, looking pretty, everything usual about you. Chain to your neck and pitiful look in your eyes. He chuckles to himself. Before the auction can even start he's already walking over to the auction master and murmuring the largest sum of money he can offer in your name. The greedy bastard accepts without questioning, and you leash and collar are finally where they belong, in his hands.
"Maybe I should keep you like this," He grins, tugging at the chain and making you stumble forward. You tremble, eyes wide and mouth agape as you look at him. "Collared, and ready to blow up if you slip through the cracks again."
"I didn't run," You can't bite your tongue in time, he cocks a brow, still smiling, amused at what you're going to seemingly explain. "I- I was kidnapped. They took me. That's why I'm here, I would neveâ" He shuts you up by tugging on the chain again, his large hand trapping your face so he can kiss your lips, long tongue slipping past the resistance of your mouth. He purrs as he speaks.
"You're a terrible liar."
Dracule Mihawk
Mihawk felt dull.
Ever since you've been gone everything seems to bore him more than usual. Perona may distract him with her antics every once in a while, as well as Roronoa, but beside that... he feels lonely. He wonders where you are, what you are doing, if you are happy without him. And then he doesn't feel dull, he just feels bitter.
Passing through Shabaody wouldn't usually be his thing, but there was nothing better to do. And he could maybe find something special to replace you, even if he doubts it. Slave auctions are for collectionists of rare species and sadists, he doesn't know what he's doing there. But he stays, to watch the show, to see how many enslaved mermaids are captured this time.
Instead, half way through, he finds a much more pleasant sight.
You.
Chained, collared, and perfectly dressed. He doesn't know what possessed him. In a second he is pointing a blade at the auction master's neck, curtly demanding for your chain. And once he has it in his hands, it's like he's woken up. The collar falls in an instant, and he gathers you in his arms. The world a blurr, only you mattering.
"I shouldn't have ran." You say between sobs and hiccups, he nods.
"I know."
"I'm so sorry." You cry out, holding him tighter. "I was so scared."
"I know." He says again, his grip tightening just enough for you to notice.
You didn't loose the chain, you just ran back to the usual one.
âRed hairedâ Shanks
Slave auctions have never been Shanks' thing.
It's pitiful, really. To see so many young women chained and collared, sold to the highest bidder. Which usually ment sold to a man who would treat them like disposables, using them then throwing them out like yesterday's gargabe. Thinking about it is gruesome, so he prefers to don't stick his nose where it doesn't belong.
But either way, he's there this time. Because his crew wanted to, and he has frankly nothing better to do. Not after you went away anyways, he should have never let you say no to his proposal, he should've knocked you up and get your ass back inside the ship. Then he would at least have the excuse of sex to miss out on this.
The thought of you is always sour, so much so that he even thinks one of the slaves looks like you. Exact hair, exact eyes, exact same way of trembling and cowering in fear. He looses control once he realizes, Emperors Haki hitting everybody in the room until they pass out, limp, gone.
The chain around your neck loosens, and he catches you in his arms in an instant. The softest kiss is pressed to your hair.
"Not getting away this time, my love."
Sir Crocodile
Crocodile feels furious.
Every little thing is a reminder of your abscense, of the one thing that slipped away from him the second he let his guard down. He should've taken you, he should've never left you with the choice. Instead, now he has to carry the guilt of knowing another man could possess you.
Maybe that's what he needs, something to possess, maybe that is why he is at this stupid slave auction where nothing and nobody can compare to the one thing he desires, you.
No mermaid or mink or any of those things could compare to your beauty and radiance. He is enraged now, he is wasting his time here. He stands up to leave, and freezes in place when he sees you.
The second you make eye contact, he's already turned to sand, mere dust that flies your way and somehow messes with the collar enough for it to fall into little pieces of garbage. He gathers you in his strong arms, lifting you up bridal style.
"You rejected me with this purpose?" He asks, mocking even when his tone is serious.
"N-Not at all." You murmur, shocked, relieved, conflicted.
"Good. Now that you know the graveness of the mistake you made, I'm not letting you tell me no twice."
Thinking about Knucklesâ trouble adjusting from warrioring to being a family son with two younger brothers. His anxiety around now protecting someone else, combined with his inability to sleep on a comfortable soft bed leads to him sleeping under peopleâs beds to both âprotectâ and be comfortable in his own way.
Finally ⌠Finally I did it!!! IDW characters in Sonic X style! I hope I could draw them in this style.Â
But honestly, I really liked to draw them. For me it was a new experience in creating a background, as well as characters. I tried to draw them as they would be shown in the show. I hope I was able to portray them like that.
Commission for ShinyMisty! An introduction comic for our AU: Post Memories Tinker, in which Eggman decides to stay as Mr. Tinker after recovering his memories
Crack headcanon (after seeing this) that Greedâs compulsive need to possess things doesnât stop when heâs got a little bit of everything. Heâs more of an all-of-one-thing-at-a-time kinda guy.
Like he and his chimeras hear about this thrift store over the radio. And they walk in and itâs just awful filthy clothes, awful filthy furniture, awful filthy knick-knacks as far as the eye can see. And Roa comes over like âSee anything you want, boss?â And Greed nods once. âWhat do you think?â Roa sighs, defeated, and goes to fetch the wheelbarrows.
Several stores in Dublith have âgoing out of business, everything must goâ sales over the years. They all talk. They all know that if they ever have such a sale, some weird guy in a puffy vest and sunglasses will show up with a posse of thugs just toâŚbuy everything. Book store? Cleaned out. Lawn care accessories? Gone. Wig shop? You bet your ass puffy vest dude is leaving with 200 neon colored wigs.
One day when thereâs not much going on, Dolcetto suggests they visit the pound. (He likes watching the dogs, okay? Itâs normal.) And Greed tags along because heâs bored too, until he sees this little girl and her family adopt a puppy. He finds an employee, points to the cages all ââŚAre those for sale?â And the lady working there nods. âYup. In fact we need them to get adopted. Weâve been having issues finding homes for them, and they have to get put down if no one takes them. Weâve lowered the price to 100 cenz per dogâ Greed thinks about this, crosses his arms, nods. âGive me all of them.âÂ
They expand the lair to this abandoned chunk of lawn that used to be part of a now-foreclosed house. No one knows why there are suddenly 50 dogs living in this lot, but the strange tattooed folk who come and go keep them fed and exercised. One of these thugs gets down on all fours and runs around with them, and that strange guy with the sunglasses and pointy teeth likes sitting in the center of the dogpile letting the dogs climb over him and lick his face while he declares, âYes! I own all of you!â so generally people arenât too worried for the health and well-being of the dogs.
Greed attempts to train the dogs as loyal subordinates (sharp teeth, impressive size and power, good bite strength), except Greed doesnât really *get* dogs.
He assumes theyâre pretty much like the chimeras, just a step below Dolcetto, so he crouches in front of them and very seriously tells them, âI have saved your lives. You have not been put down because I bought you, and so now I own you. You owe your lives to me. You will be loyal to me. Iâm the leader. My word is law. Do you understand?â
And the closest one just comes closer and licks his nose. A corgi in back comes bounding forward with a tennis ball in its mouth. Three loop around to sniff Greedâs butt. A siren sounds in the distance and at least a dozen of them start howling in unison.
Greed stays there, crouched, blankly contemplating the reaction. After a moment he follows up, âThereâs a chance Iâve misunderstood what dogs are.â
(but he consults Dolcetto and Dolcetto helps him come up with an actual training regimen and Greed is thrilled to discover he can give dogs orders, they just need some conditioning. It brings him immense joy to discover he can shout âSit!â and have 50 dogs slam their butt to the ground all at once. Itâs not quite âruler of the worldâ but âruler of the dogsâ aint too shabby)
Pardon me did @10outta10wouldsinagain say âGreed taking care of Nina AUâ?
It was something he heard from every guard and scientist in the Southern Command labâalways the same breathless whisper, with a dry-throat choke of fear and the shaky tremor of disbelief: Monster.
Theyâd whisper it, and swallow, and then run. That part was always nice. Humans werenât a fair fight.
âYouâreâŚY-youâre aââ
ââyeah, yeah, monster, youâre not the first genius to reach that conclusion pal.â Greed cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders where his shield melded with the flesh near his collar bone. âWords hurt sometimes.â
Dorochet swung in from the left, katana in hand. The guard hadnât budged since Greed spoke, and his frozen gun sliced easily in two, along with a cut of his scraggly gray beard. This jolted the man into action. He let out a high-pitched whine, then tripped on his own feet as he spun and bolted down the hall.
âBut still, I guess monster is better than homunculus. Less chance of Pops finding me here.â
Dorochet didnât answer. He turned, breathing heavy, and watched. Greed rubbed at his neck.
âYou know youâre a real stick in the mud today, Dorochet. Usually you laugh at my jokes.â
âSheâs close,â Dorochet answered. He stuck his nose in the air, grimaced, and twisted on his heels to the left hall. His sword slipped back into its scabbard.
Greed followed. He surveyed the walls with muted curiosity. Harsh fluorescence beat down from overhead. Small strips of lighting lined the bottom edges of the hall. It was sterile, and white, and buzzed distantly, and seemingly hadnât changed from the day he busted in to free his own chimera gang.
âIâll bet youâve got some pleasant memories of this place,â Greed mused. They turned another corner. Emptyânot so much as a painting worth snagging off the wall.
âOh yeah, the best,â Dorochet bit back. His lip twitched over his teeth, the hair along his neck bristling. âThe antiseptic smell is real nostalgic.â
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