#iwriwt

[goddessofmischief]

Hey, thanks for tagging :) I am 34, so the "old men" are not so old to me and quite frankly, watching Shanks, Buggy and Mihawk in OPLA is feeling like coming home to old friends back from 20 years ago. (I was crushing on Shanks and Buggy so much...😅) So I thought, maybe you could write something where fem!reader already knows them and has a soft spot for each of them, since back when they were flirting and making fun when they were young. Now as adults they meet again and the chemistry is still there.

I remember one of my stories from back then. I was jealous of mermaids, because all the pirates got stupid once they're around, and a drunk Shanks said: "nah, you wouldn't like to be one; You'd be missing slamming doors and Buggy would drown on daily basis just to say hi-." Both Buggy and Reader: "shut up! So not true!". Just like young stupids are... :)

Anyways, thanks for your writing and I can't wait to read more about the "get-shit-done"-squad Mihawk, Shanks and Buggy

     — MERMAIDS (YOUNG SHANKS X READER, YOUNG BUGGY X READER)

A/N: Hope this is alright: since your formal request was so in line with what the theme of the series will be anyway, I used the excerpt of your line as basis for this particular fic. All credit of course goes to you for coming up with the lines and the idea. On a personal note, I just want to say how much I respect that you were an OG fic writer and still have interest in and love for these characters. Welcome home.

...

You would have believed that you had been at sea for years, until Buggy reminded you that it had only been weeks.

Granted, this is how he reminded you:

"It's been wee-eks," Buggy whined, stretching out on his hammock. Shanks was collapsed against the wall, fingers knotted together, eyes not really focused on any particular place.

And you? You were lying on the floor, gazing up at the wooden ceiling, wondering if it would be a good idea to leave the cabin and see the stars.

Being on the ship for weeks was highly irregular for your crew. Great captain he was, Roger knew he could only keep this ragtag group sane if they stepped onto shore and ate an orange every once in awhile. This concern was triply inflated by the fact that he had three young adults onboard who became very antsy if they had to stay in one place for too long. Your patience certainly rivaled Buggy's or even Shanks', but even you had your limit, and you had met it long ago.

The ship would have planned to make port nearly a week before, but the World Government was closer to finding you than ever. It was simply too dangerous.

You soon learned how your friends reacted to a situation such as this. Shanks had retreated mostly into silence, with exception of the odd joke or attempt at conversation, and Buggy had decided he blamed you both somehow for this situation and that any words exchanged with either of you would only be of the complaining nature.

"I know, Bugs," said Shanks, and you were surprised to hear him answer Buggy's complaint. You exchanged glances with him, then turned back to Buggy.

"Let's go outside, yeah?" you suggested. "Do something fun."

"Everyone's outside," Buggy complained. "They've been yelling over something for hours."

"And you didn't think that was important to mention, Bugs?" Shanks asked, irritably. Buggy shrugged.

...

The thing that had sparked such interest in the crew was simply that, as your ship had sailed very far into the deepest waters, much farther than usual, you had sailed into a home of mermaids. Extremely dangerous, and the crew knew it.

It did not negate their interest whatsoever, though.

Pirates get stupid when mermaids are around. It is a core trait of pirates and no less than a sacred tenet of piracy itself. More than a few decent men have been seduced to the sea by the very concept of mermaids, and to that end, the idea of finding one.

Shanks and Buggy were no exception.

You had never really taken the care to notice how they behaved with girls. Their flirting was of no interest to you, and so you didn't bother to surveil it. But it came to your attention now that they had terribly different styles: namely, that Buggy was mostly content to sit and watch from the edge of the deck, and Shanks was more interested in yelling, waving, and nearly falling off the boat.

Granted, by this time, alcohol had become involved, and all bets were off.

Despite all the excitement, the first in weeks, Shanks had begun to notice how quiet you'd become. He approached you, somewhat cautiously, hoping you wouldn't react with a retort or a threat.

"You okay?"

You nodded, staring at the drink you held.

"You sure?"

You shrugged, whispering something under your breath that Shanks struggled to hear.

"What's that?"

You spoke again, slightly more than a whisper, but Shanks heard it all the same.

"...I wish I was a mermaid."

"You wish you were a mermaid?" He repeated loudly, almost outraged. You shushed him, and he just laughed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just... nah, you wouldn't like to be one. You'd be missing... slamming doors, and Buggy would drown himself on a daily basis just to say hi-"

"Shut up!" you giggled. "So not true!"

"And then, of course, there'd be all the pirates. I wouldn't like sharing you with them."

"I'm a pirate. You're a pirate."

"I'm a different sort of pirate. And you're barely a pirate at all."

You shrank back, inexplicably hurt by Shanks' drunken offhand insult.

"I'm as much of a pirate as you."

"Of course you are. I didn't mean that. Not like that. I mean, you're just... you're very careful, you're much too good for us. You're not messy or mean like the rest of us are."

"What do you think I am, then?"

"A princess," he blurted out, and you tried not to laugh. "I've always thought so."

"Always?"

"Mhm. The whole time."

You studied Shanks' face, seeing him in a new light that you'd never glimpsed anyone in before. Had he always been this cute, or charming, or kind?

Well, it didn't matter if he always had been, because he was now, and before you had given much thought to it at all you were pushing his straw hat back and he was meeting your lips in a kiss, your first, his first.

"You're a terribly nice pirate," you mumbled.

"You're a terribly beautiful princess," he replied.

You both parted awkwardly, staring at each other with confused half-smiles and resigning to focusing your attentions back on the ocean. For now, it was merely a strange evening, a shooting star, but later on, you would remember that night as the precise moment you began to love Red-Haired Shanks.

And Buggy, watching from across the ship, would remember that night as the second time a deep knot of resentment grew in his chest, one that would only become larger with time. The first time had been as a child, when Shanks had done something exceptionally well where Buggy had failed, and Roger placed his famous straw hat onto his head.

The second time was tonight, because of you.

taglist: @sawendel @twinklesnake

[goddessofmischief]

      MIDNIGHT RAIN - MIHAWK X READER

A/N: this is part of this series, which requests are open for! These fics are all one-shots, so they can be read separately.

Much had changed since the day at the bar.

You had allowed Mihawk to order a drink for you, which he did, combining both your interests: a red wine for him, dried red amaryllises around the rim for you. You had spoken for hours about the little and big things, the facts of your lives, until the sun had sank below the horizon and even after it had risen again.

Ever since that day, since that night, Mihawk hadn't been able to take his eyes off of you. Everywhere the Roger pirates went, he followed - in his own vessel of course, where he could avoid questioning from your crewmates. And at every port you and he would reunite again, and embark on some new adventure.

It was the definition of a whirlwind romance. Every day, a new place to explore, every day, something new to learn about you. Mihawk liked to be surprised, he liked when things didn't go precisely to plan. After all, he hadn't planned finding you, but he liked it all the same. It had been a long, long summer of "I don't know" and "do you like...?" and "yes" and after some time it had even become a summer of "I love you."

Mihawk struggled with some things, too. He had never been so open with another person, but he felt he could be with you. You never laughed at his dreams or plans, but merely included yourself along with them.

Despite it all, despite his anticipation of a rivalry, he and Shanks had even become somewhat... close. Well, 'close' was a strong phrase - much too strong - but it was hardly uncommon to witness the two of them engaging in a duel from time to time. They were so evenly matched, they'd often tire themselves out for several hours and then retire for a drink, you and Buggy at their side.

Mihawk liked Shanks, he respected him much more now than when he had first met him. He sensed a change in him since the night he'd dined with your family, but couldn't anticipate the cause.

Something much more consequential had occurred that night, though. That was the night he had asked Roger's permission to propose to you.

It hadn't been given - not exactly - not explicitly. Roger had said it wasn't his permission that mattered, that you were free to do as you liked, and similarly, so was Mihawk. And if Mihawk wished to propose, well, he wouldn't stop him.

It was not the response Mihawk anticipated receiving, but he took it all the same. He considered asking Shanks what he thought about it - given that he was the closest thing he had to a friend - but had decided that he could make this decision alone. He loved you. It made sense to be married. That was the end of it.

The ring was special to him. Blood-red, in the shape of the amaryllis flower, slim, silver band. He had commissioned it especially for you. His career in piracy was only just beginning, and money was tight, but some things were necessary.

Now, he was left standing on the deck of your ship, ring box in his pocket.

"Darling?" you inquired, walking out. "What're you doing here?"

"Just wanted to see you," he said briskly.

He knelt down, opening the box. You inhaled deeply, hand covering your mouth.

"Would you?" he managed, unable to complete the sentence. You nodded, smile spreading across your face.

"Yeah."

He stood, sliding the ring onto your finger. You beamed up at him.

The moment didn't feel exactly as he thought it would, and he didn't know why he was so surprised. His range of emotions included mild rage and mild amusement. Did he really think he would suddenly be shouting, cheering, punching the clouds? This was good, it was right. It didn't need to be met with ecstasy, from either him or you.

But you were happy. Mihawk was especially perceptive, and he could see that. Your smile was real. Your love for him was real.

"It's wonderful," said Shanks later that night, as you, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Roger and Rayleigh stood around and held glasses of wine in the air. "It's really wonderful."

"When are you, uh - when are you getting married?" Buggy asked, unusually quiet.

You and Mihawk glanced at each other. He rested his hand on your knee.

"Well, um, we hadn't talked about it," you said, as Mihawk wondered why you hadn't talked about it. Other couples had these conversations, right? He had never known a happy married couple, but he would imagine they had these conversations.

He would do better next time. Next time, he would anticipate these talks and have them with you.

"The sooner the better?" you suggested, with a quick glance at Roger and then to Shanks. "We're all together right now-"

"Sooner is better," Shanks agreed, though he sounds slightly reluctant.

Mihawk looked to you.

"Sooner, yes?"

You nodded. Mihawk smiled at the group, and he clung to that word.

Soon.

taglist: @sordidmusings @foggyturtleknightangel @twinklesnake @toertchen @96jnie @lunanight1021 @sawendel

[goddessofmischief]

      QUESTION...? - YOUNG SHANKS X READER

A/N: this is part of this series, which requests are open for! These fics are all one-shots, so they can be read separately.

If he was being honest, Shanks had thought about that kiss many times. The first kiss, his and yours.

It had never since been repeated. It had never since ever been mentioned, so repeating was certainly off the table. He had many kisses since, with many others, but none the same, and none quite as real.

Through it all, he had remained your closest friend. He, you, and Buggy had remained on Roger's crew, contented to stay on and learn for the time being. But tides had been changing as of late, Shanks knew. Roger had warned him of it himself.

He wondered where you might end up, if things fell apart, if their little family were to be separated. It was impossible to imagine you alone, but he was sure you were capable of it. You had never really needed him or Buggy.

...You certainly didn't need Buggy, at least.

Some nights, when he was being really honest, he imagined sailing away with you. Just you. Sure, he'd find a crew someday, but he wanted a couple years to see what life was like without one.

But that dream had died today, as today was the day he was introduced to your new boyfriend, Dracule Mihawk.

Shanks had a cursory knowledge of Mihawk that was far more extensive than he cared to admit. While the boys were only one year apart in age, Mihawk's extensive accomplishments far outranked Shanks'. Mihawk was already one of the world's greatest swordsmen.

How could he compete with that?

To be fair, Shanks was no slouch with a sword. It was hardly an insecurity of his. He was certainly one of the best, but he wasn't one of the greatest. And this shouldn't have mattered so much, anyway: It's not like you were in love with Dracule Mihawk entirely based on his sword skills.

No, you loved him for a thousand other reasons, all of which became dreadfully apparent to Shanks the moment Mihawk set foot on their ship.

He was polite, almost to a fault. He was cutting when it came off as clever. He had an utterly inescapable stare that made Shanks understand the meaning of the nickname 'Hawk-Eyes.' He was not a man, he was a force of nature, and Shanks felt terribly small beside him.

"So... what's your job?" Buggy asked. The three of them were seated in the dining room, waiting for dinner to begin.

"Gun for hire," Mihawk said calmly. "But only for the best."

"And... what's your intentions with Y/N?"

Mihawk stared him down. Shanks felt very grateful that Buggy had asked first.

"To marry her, of course."

Shanks almost choked on his drink.

Marriage? Really? That's what this was? It was too soon, it wasn't fair. He hadn't had time to do anything, he hadn't had time to even consider the full depth of his feelings for you. Mihawk was going to take you away, and he would never see you again.

"Marriage?" Shanks asked, trying to assume a jesting tone. "Isn't that a bit... sudden?"

"Well, yes," said Mihawk. "But I'm sure there's no one better for me, and I would hate to lose her."

"Ah... I understand what you mean." He understood it all too well.

You entered the dining room, and Mihawk rose to greet you. Shanks stood up, too, whacking Buggy on the shoulder to get him to stand.

You looked beautiful... of course... and completely in love. He didn't know someone else's joy could cause him so much suffering.

Mihawk handed you a drink - the rim was covered in dried flowers, he'd forgotten you liked them so much - and the liquid was a violet color.

"You remembered," you whispered to Mihawk with affection, and he merely smiled. Coward. If you'd spoken like that to him he would have had the ring out already.

The four of you turned to face the door again, as a sound like thunder echoed from the outside-

But Shanks knew it was only his adopted father's footsteps.

"Mihawk, is it?" said Gol. D. Roger appraisingly, looking the boy up and down.

"Yes, sir, it is."

"What do you do to survive, Mihawk?"

"Whatever I like."

Shanks wasn't quite sure how Roger felt about this answer - please hate it - until Roger began laughing uproariously.

Damn it.

Was this how mutiny felt? It seemed like it was one, sitting at that table, watching all those happy people conspire over futures he wouldn't be part of. He felt like a ghost, like he'd already died, like everything was too little, too late. He didn't blame you - how could he? you had done nothing wrong - but still, his heart broke a little every time he saw you reach for Mihawk's hand.

"It was a nice dinner," you later said to Shanks, standing at the edge of the ship, while Mihawk and Roger sat stoically in silence inside. "Thanks for being there."

You held a cigarette, and he watched as you exhaled smoke across the water.

"Give it," he said, half-jokingly, and he took a puff as well. You stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," you responded, holding your hand out and taking the cigarette back. But it wasn't nothing. The truth of it was that him standing there, tall as ever, with his dumb little necklace and dumb loose, white shirt... it made you remember how you'd felt for him during that kiss, years ago, all those feelings you'd tried to bury since.

Mihawk made sense. He was honorable, undeniably handsome, and clever. And it wasn't that Shanks wasn't these things - it was that Shanks had expectations set for him you couldn't possibly hope to live up to, and couldn't imagine following after.

He would be King of the Pirates. He would find the One Piece. You never doubted any of it. Everything Roger declared would someday become truth. This much was certain.

Could you handle that? It felt too much to bear, too big a weight to carry. Your love for Shanks - that's what it was, it was love - came second to Roger's aspirations for him and things the world needed him to do. He was a great man, he would do great things. And you had no place in any of it.

"You're lost in thought, it seems," Shanks prompted. You smile.

"Just thinking about Mihawk," you responded.

"You know, he... he told us he wants to marry you."

Your cheeks flushed red.

"I know," you spoke casually, even though you hadn't known. "He wants us to travel together, before he settles somewhere."

"But not now, right?"

"Maybe now."

"It can't be now!" Shanks said. "With everything going on? The World Government at our backs and Roger's health-"

"What do you know about that?"

"More than you know."

"I know quite a bit," you responded. "I'm the one who diagnosed him."

"Oh," said Shanks, trying not to let on how worried he was. "How long has he got?"

"A year. Maybe less." You puffed on the cigarette again. "He's said he wants to see us all happy, before he goes."

"That's not what this is about, is it? Please tell me that's not what this is about."

That was what this was about.

"You can't marry Mihawk just to make Roger happy! That's not what he wants!"

"How do you know what he wants?"

"He wants you to have adventures! He wants you to be one of the greatest pirates ever! He wants us..." Shanks became very quiet. "He wants us to stick together."

You held your breath. What you were about to say would disrupt all your lives: yours, Shanks, Buggy's.

"The Roger Pirates are disbanding next week, Shanks," you said. "I'm the only one who knows. Me and Rayleigh, and Roger. That's it."

Shanks stepped back, almost unable to comprehend what you'd just said.

"Oh," he said, unexpectedly somber. "And what happens then?"

"Then we go our separate ways," you said. "And Roger is going to turn himself in."

"To the World Government?"

"It's the only way. Or so he's said. I believe him."

Shanks sank down over the side of the railing, gripping the sides to keep himself from falling off. You watched him with concern.

"Can I ask you a question?" he spoke, softly.

You shrugged.

"Shoot."

He raised himself up far enough to make eye contact with you.

"Do you ever think about it?"

"What?"

"Us."

"...Oh," you said. "Us."

Behind you, Shanks paled, already waving off your answer.

"...It was just a question."

"I think of you all the time," you said, trying to avoid the full implications of such a question. "You're one of my best friends."

Shanks stared you down, leaning against the edge of the ship.

"That is not what I mean," said Shanks. "I think that you know."

You did know.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and placed your hands on his shoulders. He looked at you, unblinkingly.

"I can't," you enunciated, staring at his shoes before meeting his gaze. "I can't let there be an us."

"But there could be."

You needed to end this now.

Still clutching his shoulders, you bent your head past his face, lips brushing against his ear.

You knew you held his heart in your hands. You knew you were about to crush it.

"I need a man," you spoke carefully, "And you are still just a boy."

taglist: @sordidmusings@foggyturtleknightangel@twinklesnake@toertchen@96jnie@lunanight1021

[goddessofmischief]

moodbord for "it was rare, I was there"