#twisted shank ring

[williambarthman]

How To Choose a Good Jewelry Store for Diamond Rings?

People who need the best Diamond Engagement Rings often think about where to buy these special items from. Some people even settle down for the Solitaire Engagement Rings. But the main question is, how will you find a reliable and dependable store?

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Shanks Touch

Prompt: Shanks visits your village after being away for a long time and in classic Shanks fashion a party ensues.

Requested by Anonymous

NSFW

Shanks X Male Reader

It had been a long while since Shanks appeared on the shores of your island. Many moons coming and going before you got word of the warlord checking in on one of his many territories. Your heart skipped a bit as you watched the horizon for any sign of his ship. The island always seemed to be more chipper when he was around, a never-ending party as Shanks would gleefully find any excuse to continue drinking.

         It took 3 mornings, but finally you could see it. The Red Hair Jolly Roger waving in the wind, it’d only be an hour or so until his ship would be docked, and everyone about seemed to be prepping for their arrival. Every tavern fully stocked, and more shipments expected to arrive soon, fully expecting to be drank out of house and home.

         The towns people’s happy faces talking of Shanks greatest feats as the town square looked like it was preparing for a festival. You, yourself were helping set up lodging, knowing the pirate crew would be passing out on land after being on the sea for so long. The towns mayor more than happy to gather tribute money for the protection the Red Hairs Flag offers us.

         Finally, you hear the bell ring through the town, the ship docking as his crew unloads the boat of treasures and booze. You run towards the dock, staying to the back of the crowd as you glance through faces to find the familiar red hair, his tall-tale laugh reaching your ears as you see him a couple dozen paces away.

         Your feet freezing in place when you see him smiling while talking to other townsfolk, a tug on your heart before you force yourself forward, determined to make yourself known. Before you can even get near him you hear him call your name, his attention turning towards you as he walks up to you. He bends down, easily picking you despite the one arm and twisting you around. “Shanks!” You say with a smile plastered on your face.

         “How I’ve missed you!” Shanks laughs out while putting you down, “This calls for a celebration!” His hand raising in triumph as you could see Benn sighing heavily behind him. The next few moments seem to move too quickly as you’re swept with the crowd, Shanks keeping a hold of your shoulder as he walks towards his favorite tavern.

         It isn’t lost on you how his hand ghosts your back before resting itself on your ass. A subtle squeeze as he leans closer to you. “I’m assuming by Benn’s reaction that you were already ‘celebrating’ on deck?” You laugh out, twisting your neck to look at him as you grab his hand, moving it to your hip.

         “He’s just a Sourpuss that I drank an entire keg” His booming laughter filled your ears as the entire town was swept into a rhythm of his making. Shanks leads you to the back of the tavern, sitting in an corner with a large round table, his men filling in the rest of the seats as tankards full of Rum and Vodka were placed in front of them.

         He pulls you onto his laugh, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist as he pulls you flush against him, his head leaning over your shoulder as you grab his cards for him, holding them only for him to see while he sips his drink. Cheering and laughing ringing through the building while you help him play poker, his hand laying on your hip as he grinds into you.

         It isn’t until a couple of drinks in that you feel him sink his hand into your pants, a blush rushing to your face as you glance to see if anyone notices, his fingers delicately brushing against the skin of your dick, a twitch into his hands as you suck in a breath. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one happy to see you~” Shanks whispers into your ear, grinding his own hardon into you as you hide your face behind the cards in your hand.

         His thumb running over your delicate tip as you attempt to keep playing while distracted, moving one of your legs so he has easier access to do as he pleases. Shanks lips pressing against your jawline and neck as you press yourself into him.

         You can feel Shanks grin into your skin as he tightens his hold around you, a playful tug making you yearn for more, “Kid it’s your turn.” You slap a random card down, not caring about the game anymore as your head leans back onto Shanks’ shoulder, your free hand wrapping around to rake your fingers through his hair, a low groan escaping your lips.

         “Is there something you need darling?” His hushes whisper pressed against your neck as he leaves a bruising mark in his wake. Slow, deliberate strokes driving you insane as you try to thrust into his touch, “Remember you have to play properly,” His slight taunt making your ears ring as you open your eyes, glancing at the table. Most seem unfazed, others glancing but returning to their cards as the rest of the Tavern continues to party on.

         Huffing as you feel him teasing you, changing pressures as he continues to pump his hand, Shanks enjoying watching you unravel. Straightening your back as you scootch a little bit off his lap, your hand dipping behind you to palm the outside of his pants just as he quickens his pace.

         “Getting daring, aren’t we?” Shanks whispers, nipping at your earlobe as he ruts up into your palm, his grip becoming tight, a finger dancing over the slit of your sensitive tip as you choke on your breath.

         He pulls you back against him fully, jerking you faster as you lean against the table, your face in your arms as your hand barely holds onto the cards in your hand, your legs dangling on either side of him. Biting your lip to hold back your labored breathing as your release quickly approaches.

         Grinding your hips into his touch as you feel the pressure building, Shanks hand quickly glides down your shaft, a tight hold around the base of your leaking cock. A desperate moan escaping your lips as your eyes widen, the building of pressure feeling like too much. Your hands pushing you off the table as you push yourself against Shanks even further in a desperate attempt to get his hold on your cock to loosen, to let you feel the sweet release you’ve been craving.

         “Now, now.” His laughing tone hits your frustrated ears, “That’s for later. Can’t have you becoming spent too early.” You feel the pressure slowly ebb away, the tight grip around your cock loosening as you slam your head against the table in disbelief.

[goddessofmischief]

      RUNNING SCARED, I WAS THERE (YOUNG SHANKS X 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. Also, I highly recommend listening to the song linked in the title while you read.

It was the twilight eve of the execution of Gol D. Roger, and sadness ruled your heart, body and soul.

The crew had disbanded, scattering themselves to the seas with little more than fond good-byes. Roger had turned himself in three days earlier. There had been a trial - a rushed, convoluted sham of a trial that you hated every second of, but it didn't matter anymore. At least there would be an end to his suffering.

And at least Buggy and Shanks were with you. Small blessings. You knew that Garp had no real interest in persecuting a bunch of kids like yourselves, but hanging out on a pirate ship in the harbor seemed to be an unwise action all the same. So you'd booked three rooms at a nearby inn, close to the town square, and been disheartened to see that the inn was almost filled with out-of-towners thrilled to witness such a historical event.

Buggy got settled in his room, while Shanks sat down on the bed in yours.

"It's strange," he said. "All of this."

You nodded, unable to look at him.

"Hey, we're going to be fine. You know that, right?"

"I know," you said, and then there was a sudden banging at the door.

You and Shanks exchanged glances, and his hand rested on the sword at his side. The door thundered again.

Gripping your pistol, you approached the door, opening it the smallest crack, and trying not to show surprise at the face that greeted you.

"...Mihawk?"

"I heard that Roger would be executed," said Mihawk, out of breath. "I returned to witness. I had to see you."

"I don't care."

"Please let me come in. I know what I did was terrible. It was terrible. But you have to know that it's not because of lack of love for you, I do love-"

You swung the door all the way open, letting Mihawk in. As you did, you pressed your finger to his lips.

"I don't want to hear it," you said, shaking your head. "Roger dies tomorrow. I'm not interested in exploring what happened between us. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Please-"

Shanks appeared behind you, arm looped around your waist.

"Out, Hawk-Eye," Shanks cautioned, "Or I'll duel you for real this time."

Mihawk stared at you, lip trembling a bit. You had never seen him show so much emotion before.

"Please," he stated again. You were silent. Shanks stared him down.

After a moment, he nodded, did a small bow in your direction, and walked out.

Shanks groaned, turning back to his room.

After a moment of consideration, you stared at the hallway where Mihawk had left, and ran after him.

"Mihawk, wait," you called out, and he turned around immediately, a smile ghosting over his face. "Look, I... what you did hurt me. It did hurt me. But it doesn't matter now. All of this... has made me realize what's important."

"...I'm so glad," he said, trying to speak around the lump in his throat. "Truly."

You smiled, pulling something out of your pocket. He realized with a pang that it was your wedding ring, the one he'd designed for you. You handed it back to him, leaving it in the palm of his hand.

"We were much too young to be married anyway. You were right."

Mihawk nodded, closing his fingers around the ring.

"Would you accept my proposal, again, if we were older?"

"If you asked again... when we are older... I may consider it."

He nearly blushed.

"May we part as friends?" Mihawk offered, hopefully. "I know I do not deserve that much, but-"

"Yes," you agreed softly, reaching your hand out to him. "Friends."

Friends.

You made your way back down the hallway, hesitating in front of two doors: yours, or Shanks. You twisted the doorknob on his, wondering if he had left it unlocked for you.

He had.

"Hey," he called out sleepily, sounding completely unsurprised. "You alright?"

You nodded, twisting your hands.

"I don't want to be alone. Do you?"

"No," he said, and the night faded to black.

...

When Shanks got up that morning, he thought of the last time he'd spoken to Roger. Just the two of them.

"It's yours," Roger said. "Our ship. You're the oldest. You're the one who has to look after them. Keep them from killing each other. Keep Buggy from killing you."

Shanks was at a loss for words, and could only bow his head in gratitude.

"One more thing," said Roger. "Another gift and a confession. I never married the woman I loved. I never will."

Shanks could see the toll this was taking on the older man, could see the grief drawn across his face. Roger took something out of a drawer and held it out to Shanks.

"This is Rouge's ring. Now it's yours."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to, Shanks. All I'm saying is that if there is a girl, one day... and you don't want to let her slip through your fingers... you have this."

Roger held the ring out again, which was strung from a loose chain. Shanks bent his head, and Roger draped the ring over his shoulders. Shanks tucked it under his clothes, where it could lie unseen, and wait.

Shanks knew then that he had so much to say to Roger, too much, and there would not be enough time, not even if he had a thousand years. He wanted to tell him everything, and have Roger tell him what to do in return. But he couldn't.

"Thank you," Shanks managed, and then he felt he had said enough.

...

It was a warm day with clouds when the crowd huddled in to view the execution.

You clung to Shanks' arm, your hand shielding your eyes, while Buggy stood several paces behind you. Mihawk was somewhere in the crowd, too, watching, wearing a new coat - new, at least, to you - embroidered with amaryllis flowers. You had thought to go and stand beside him, but you realized this felt much more right. Shanks had never abandoned you. You were sure, in that moment, he never would.

"It's about to happen," Shanks murmured.

"Oh," you whispered, just 'oh.' You had seen people die, but never someone you loved.

You buried your face in Shanks' shoulder, unable to face these jeering, spectating people around you, gleefully witnessing the pain and destruction and ruination of your lives.

But wait, a pause. And it was then that Roger uttered those words, that speech, the thing that incited the Great Pirate Era. The thing that broke the world, and made you proud.

And then, as the previously laughing crowd stampeded away around you, desperately taking to the water like fish, the act was done.

Roger was gone. A sin had been committed by the world today that could not be forgiven. The sky had, fittingly, turned dark and rainy.

"Let's go home," Shanks said, quietly, and it was then you realized that your face was still buried in his shoulder. He didn't attempt to dislodge you.

"I don't know where home is."

"Course you do. It's in the harbor now."

The Oro Jackson, Roger's ship, the ship you had lived on for the past decade. Why didn't it feel like home, like it had before? Because everyone was gone?

Not everyone. Not Shanks, and not Buggy.

Mihawk, you realized, was still planted where he had stood before, unable to dislodge his gaze from you.

"Hey, Hawk-Eyes," Shanks called out, beginning to steer you towards the ship. "You heading out?"

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat. "Yes, I should be going."

Mihawk nodded to you as Shanks wrapped his coat around your shoulders.

"We'll see each other again," you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. "I believe that."

He gave you a rare smile, and then he was gone.

taglist:

@sawendel @twinklesnake @literaturewithliz @sordidmusings @foggyturtleknightangel @toertchen @96jnie @lunanight1021

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

The Proposal

Warnings: none? Lingerie is mentioned?

Shanks x GNreader

Word count: 1184

Chapter 1

You and Shanks have been dating forever, like since you were apprentices on Rogers' ship forever. In the decade-plus that you have been together, you've been patiently waiting for him to make the next move. But now you were starting to get impatient with him because you felt that your relationship has not progressed to the next stage. Granted you had no right to be annoyed with him since you didn't voice your feelings on the matter to him. Shanks always said he would want to get married one day and have a spouse, you just didn't understand what was taking him so long.

"You're glowering at the boss," Benn grumbled, leaning back in his chair as his grey eyes scrutinized your features. You bit your lip and weighed your option, ask Benn for advice and the possibility of the whole finding out, or talk to Shanks first.

"I need some advice, and you're Shanks's best friend, maybe you might have some insight." You mumble.

Benn took a drag off his cigarette and huffed, "Really? I thought you're his best friend, and I'm the one who's been third wheeling you two since you were teenagers."

"You're both of our best friends I guess, but you know how Shanks wants to one day get married?"

Benn's eyes got wide for a moment, and he darted to Shanks, as he replied, "vaguely recall him saying that when he was drunk a number of years ago. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering why he hasn't proposed yet."

Benn rolled his eyes, sensing your insecurity, and groaned, "if you're really so impatient why don't you propose to him?" His words shocked you, why hadn't you thought of that? You've always been the one to initiate new things in your relationship. From asking him out when you were eleven, to asking if you can move into the same room when you were nineteen. It was always you making the first move, so why wouldn't marriage be any different?

When he realized you were actually considering it, you'd already thanked him for his insight, and gotten up to return to your room. Hongou came over and sat down in your chair, drunk as a skunk and grinning like an idiot. As he takes a swig from a bottle of rum,  he asks, "what's got you so slack-jawed?"

Benn put out his cigarette and got up, "I need to start planning a wedding, and...fuck I'm gonna need to get a camera."

A week later, despite the constant pestering from the crew's helmsmen, you finally settled on how and where you would propose. You planned to buy the ring on the next island and propose on the island after that, the Fern Kingdom. Which was famous for its brilliant foliage, deep fjords, crisp air, and copious waterfalls. But there was still one problem, you didn't know Shanks' ring size. When you expressed your issue with Benn, he pointed out all you had to do was to wait for him to fall asleep to get it.

"But he's such a light sleeper," you grumbled.

Benn leaned over the back of his chair, twisting to face you as you were curled up on the sofa in his office, he said, "what are you talking about? He sleeps like a log. I've literally dropped him down a flight of stairs carrying him back to your room after a party, and he didn't wake up."

"He only sleeps like that when he's drunk, which I suppose is often enough I shouldn't have a problem."

"Does he usually go to sleep with you sober? " Benn asked, "Because all the times we've shared sleeping quarters, he's always insisted he needs a nightcap to sleep."

"He sleeps best cuddled up to someone, but any way will you help me get the ring size if you encounter him passed out before I do." You inquired, putting the ring-sizing tape on his desk.  Benn nodded his head and tossed it in his cigarette box, and huffed, "If we need to we can always take him drinking before going ring shopping."

"You want to come with me to pick out the ring?"

Benn's sharp eyes flicked up t you as his expression soured, "of course, I'm coming with you to pick it out. There is no way in hell I'm letting you go without me. I've been with you two through most of the big steps in your relationship."

"You mean you were around when we were going through most of the big steps."

"No I mean I was with you, Shanks always had me follow along on your dates."

You blinked at him incredulously, "you really have been third-wheeling us."

Benn nodded, "yer damn right I have. I had to pep talk Shanks before you two boned the first time. I deserve to have input on y'alls wedding and engagement rings."

You held up your hands in surrender, and Benn tucked his cigarette box back into his pants pocket.



That night Benn kicked in the door to your bedroom, short of breath when he panted, "Shanks has passed out, but he's surrounded by the crew and I can't check his ring size without raising any questions. We'll have to do this as a team to get it." When you nodded your head and grabbed the sizer, Benn said, "Alright, I'll distract the crew while you get the ring size."

"Please one look at me, and they'll be too distracted by me to watch you get his size," You stated, opening your robe to show the lingerie and nightie underneath.

Benn clicked his tongue, "that'll work,” and followed after you as you glided down the hall.

The crew had gathered in the lounge area, bottles littered across almost every flat horizontal surface in the room that wasn’t the floor. Yassop, Lucky Roo, Hongou, and Lime Juice were gathered around Shanks passing a few markers back and forth drawing on their unconscious captain’s face. You put your hands on your hips and started to gently scold them like they were children. “Boys, what are you doing? That’s not nice. Benn would you carry him to our room?”

Benn snapped his fingers and muttered, “good idea.”

The group looked over their shoulders to see you playfully glaring at them, only vaguely registering Benn as he circled around. Yassop whistled, “god-damn, what’d Shanks do to earn this?”

You chuckled, “can’t I dress cute for myself?” Despite looking at the group as they abandoned their markers and drifted toward you, you were watching Benn sneak around and scoop up the redhead. 

Once Benn had him out of the room you excused yourself and went to your room. Where you found Benn had haphazardly thrown Shanks half on and half off the bed and was fitting the sizer around his ring finger. 

“He’s a size 10,” he announced, glancing over at you expectantly. When you stared at him, he rolled his eyes, “well write it down, 'cause neither of us will remember, and we’ll have to get him drunk again, which’ll cost a fortune.”

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[hannahbarberra162]

Struck Twice By Lightning, Chapter 13

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Link to all chapters

TW: jealousy

A few days later and you were laying on the bed in the early evening, resting after a huge supper. You felt like a snake, basking in the sun after a large meal. And like a snake, you didn’t think you’d want to eat again for another month. Damn Lucky and his fantastic chicken pot pie. Laying there, you heard the ringing of your den den mushi.

Puru puru puru puru puru puru

You looked at the Buggy snail and your mouth twisted. You still hadn’t called him back after all his missed calls. You didn’t want to worry him but you hadn’t wanted to hear how he was right, how you screwed up, and how you shouldn’t have gone with Shanks in the first place. The worst part of it all was, he was right. But he didn’t deserve to be left hanging for so long. You rolled off the bed and grabbed the snail, bringing it to sit on the bed with you.

“Hi.” 

“About time, babe. I was getting worried. I was gonna leave for the Grand Line if I didn’t hear back from you soon.” You felt guilty, Buggy really was a good friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just kinda…going through it.” Buggy hummed through the snail.

“Yeah, I’d imagine so. Everyone and their Captain saw the article. That's all anyone is talking about.” You cringed. You had some small naive hope that everyone would forget about it after the next big story broke. “You looked great, though. At least they got a good picture of you.” 

“Yeah, I mean but did you see Shanks? That asshole has never taken a bad picture.”

“Fuck him, did you at least stab him? I have no doubt that it’s his fault somehow.” You laughed, something Buggy could always get you to do. It was Shank’s fault, but you didn’t want to poison Buggy against Shanks even more.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t. Thought about it though.”

“Do you want me to come get you?” You knew Buggy’s offer was sincere. But you’d thought about that too - the only place that you’d really be safe would be with an Emperor. Buggy was strong, but not if someone like Linlin or Kaido wanted to get you. They’d send wave after wave of powerful fighters, Emperors had a shared quality of being goal oriented when they wanted something or someone.

“No, but thanks. I’m gonna ride on the Dead Horse with Stanks. I think it’ll be OK, at least for a while. If I need you, I’ll make my way out to the East Blue.”

“Like hell you will, if you need me, I’ll come out there. We can stab that idiot together, as a bonding activity.”

“Hi Buggy!” The man himself had appeared, entering the cabin through the doorway. He walked over and sat next to you on the bed, leaning back on you as if you were a sitting pillow.

“Fuck off,” Buggy replied angrily. This was the first time they’d directly interacted since you’d been on board. 

“Aw, c’mon Bugs, I haven’t talked to you in forever.” Shanks was pouting. He had a lot of love for Buggy, but it wasn’t always reciprocated. You understood why, but it still made you a little sad.

“Fuck off,” Buggy repeated. “Why do you have to fuck things up for everyone you’re involved with? It’s like the Mierdas touch, everything you touch turns to shit.” Shanks laughed.

“That’s a good one, never heard it before. But it's not true! How was I supposed to know -”

“- that your actions have consequences? Gee, Shanks, I don’t know, it’s a lesson most of us have learned by our thirties. Anyway, fuck you. Doll, listen, say the word and I’ll set sail. Kisses.” 

“Love ya, Bug.” You hung up the snail. Shanks was looking at you with an amused expression. “What?” 

“Why did you call it the ‘Dead Horse? ‘Stanks’ I get, no questions asked. Buggy’s been calling me that since we were 12.”

“Oh, ‘cus the presence of your ship is like beating a dead horse. We get it - you’re Shanks and the Red Haired Pirates . No need for all the fuss.” You waved your hand at him dismissively.

“It’s not my fault we’re greeted with fanfare everywhere! I didn’t ask for it, people like me!” Shanks scoffed.

“ Some people like you, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk.

“And some people like being tickled,” Shanks replied. Your smirk dropped but as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he’d grabbed your foot with his hand and yanked your leg into the air. 

“Ha! Whatcha gonna do now? No other hand to tickle with!” You were weakly trying to kick him.

“This.” Shanks licked the sole of your foot, causing you to shriek. 

“Shanks!! That’s absolutely disgusting! Don’t do thaaaaa-” but you couldn’t finish your sentence as he licked it again and you were laughing. 

“You’re right, that’s too hard with one hand. How about here?” He pinned your legs under his and started tickling the inside of your thighs. You were laughing hard.

“Stanks! Stop!” You weren’t serious, you knew he’d stop if you changed your tone.

“Stanks, is it? You really want to play hard ball, huh?” He pinned your arm under a knee and tickled your side up to your armpit. You were laughing so much tears were coming out of your eyes.

“O-k ok ok I surrender! I won’t call you Stanks!” He moved off you, freeing your arm while your giggles subsided. “Fake surrender!” You launched yourself over him and started tickling him back. You knew Shanks was letting you hold him down, but it was still fun. The two of you were goofing off for a while, ending with you leaning down over him, breathing heavily, with his one large hand pinned by both of yours.

“So, what do I get for defeating the Emperor?” 

“You can keep me as a prize of war,” Shanks rasped, wrapping his legs around your waist. You moved your face closer to his. 

“Mmm, not sure about that. What makes you worth keeping?”

“This,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. You pressed forward, lying down on top of him, releasing his hand. You ran your nails down his chest, feeling the muscle twitch under your fingertips. You’d been having a lot of soft moments with Shanks recently. You still fell into bouts of sadness and loss, but there was no other solution you could see. You were sailing back to your island and you’d be there before you knew it. Life would continue in some kind of way, but right now you were enjoying time with your…husband.

You kissed him along his prominent collar bones, leading to the hollow of his neck. You spent some time there, flicking your tongue on the sensitive areas. Shanks was moaning, gripping your ass and thrusting up slowly, turned on by your actions. You whipped off your shirt and bra, throwing them onto the floor. You leaned forward so your breasts dangled in front of his mouth. He quickly captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting. He released it only to put the other in. You had undone his belt and were shimmying his pants down his legs. You didn’t want to wait any longer, you could feel you were already wet. 

You didn’t even remove your own clothes, just moved your skirt aside. You sat up a bit, taking your breasts away from Shank’s eager mouth. You hooked your panties to the side and sank down onto Shank’s eager cock. As you lowered yourself, you groaned. This is exactly what you needed. The stretch always felt good, but this time you wished you could make it last. You started bouncing on Shanks, pulling your hips down harder with every stroke.

“Come on, Love. I’m here for you,” Shanks was talking to you sweetly as you used him to get to your peak. You suddenly felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes but you didn’t know why. You shifted yourself to lay down next to him, hoping Shanks would take up the mantle and fuck you while spooning. You wanted to continue but were feeling too raw to have Shanks watch you. Shanks looked down at your face but didn’t say anything. He pulled out and fixed your panties, covering you up once more. He pulled your back flush to his front, gently kissing your face, while your tears threatened to spill.

“Where’d you go? Come back to me,” Shanks said softly. That made the dam break and you started crying.

“I’m s-sorry Shanks. I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me,” you cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Take whatever you need, I’ll always wait for you.” That just made you cry harder. Shanks comforted you until your tears ended, letting you cry into his chest. 

“S-sorry,” you eventually said. You felt bad about starting something you couldn’t finish and ending it with a huge crying session. Shanks turned your face to his and kissed you. 

“Don’t be. I love you.” You blinked. That was the first time he’d said it directly. Maybe you weren’t the only one guarding your heart this second time around. He joked and teased and beat around the bush but rarely expressed his emotions so frankly.

“I love you too.” You put your forehead against his. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” he replied. 

~~~

It didn’t take too long to get to your island since you’d only been with Shanks for a few weeks at that point. The closer you got, the more anxious you became. You were nervous to see what remained in and of your house. You were on edge as the Red Force docked near your island and you were chewing your nails to shreds as the dingy brought you to the wharf. Unfortunately, the article had brought notoriety to the island and to you, so locals were waiting to catch a glimpse of you and Shanks together.

“Leave,” was all he said. He was serious, intimidating, and had his hand resting on Gryphon's hilt. The villagers, all of whom you knew, quickly dispersed to their houses. 

“You didn’t have to do that, they’re just townsfolk.” You felt awkward that the people who sold you milk were being threatened by one of the most powerful pirates in the world.

“Did you want one of them taking another picture of you and I together to sell to Morgan?” You pursed your lips. You were hoping the story would die down, Shanks had a point. You walked hand in hand towards your little house. From the outside, it didn't look too bad. Your garden was a little trampled, but someone had been watering it.

You pushed open the now unlocked door, braced for the worst. Shanks trailed in behind you, inspecting various trinkets you’d gathered over the years. You were surprised to see most of your belongings still in their places. You went from room to room, looking for your favorite possessions - a knife from Buggy, an empty bottle from the first sake you’d sold, old pictures of friends, and they were all where you expected them to be. You went into your office and found someone had rifled through all your documents, but you had been expecting that. You yelled to Shanks through the open door of your office.

“Shanks, you’re not going to believe this, almost everything is still here! And unbroken, too. I was so sure this place would have been looted, but no -” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shock of blond hair.

“You’re welcome yoi,” said a familiar voice.

~~~

You skipped up to your old friend and gave him a hug around his middle. “Marco! What are you doing here?”

“Buggy called in a favor and asked me to watch over your house yoi. Prevent looting, stealing, that kind of thing. He said you’d be by soon and I was in the area anyway.” God, you loved Buggy. You really needed to send him a gift after all he'd done for you. 

“Honeydew, I can’t believe you kept this old shell from that beach -” Shanks was walking back to you, holding a shell in his hand. He stopped short when he saw Marco. Internally, you groaned. 

“Shanks, Marco’s the reason the house wasn’t looted. He’s been staying here.” Shanks smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks, Marco. Owe ya one.” 

“That’s so kind of you, Marco, I really appreciate it.” You beamed at The Phoenix, who popped a tomato in his mouth. “Was it you who watered the plants?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave them parched. You have a great little house yoi. It’s so cozy and comfortable, I relaxed more than I have in years. You have great taste in interior design yoi.”

“Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” Shanks had come to stand next to you and hooked his arm around your middle. You wanted to roll your eyes - you’d already told Shanks you hadn’t slept with Marco, he didn’t need to be jealous. 

“Thank you, I spent a lot of time over the years getting everything just right. Listen, I’d like to invite you to dinner, it’s the very least I can do,” you said. You were incredibly grateful, he’d saved you a lot of heartache. 

“-That WE can do,” Shanks interrupted with a laugh. You’d meant the invitation to include Shanks, but hadn’t specified. 

“Thank you, that sounds great. But it really was no problem yoi. Always ready to help a friend in need,” he said, smiling. He leaned against your office bookcase, holding a tomato from your garden in his other hand.

“Here, would you like it? They’ve been coming in, they’re good yoi.” Marco underhand tossed the fruit to you. Shanks let go of your waist and caught it. 

“Thanks, bud.” Shanks was trying to speak casually but was failing. He looked like he wanted to throw you over his shoulder and haul you off to the nearest cave. The twinkle in Marco’s eyes told you he was enjoying riling up Shanks. This time you did roll your eyes. This would not end well for someone, probably you. 

“Quit it,” you whispered angrily, turning to Shanks. Marco pretended not to hear. You turned back to Marco. “Please, feel free to stay here as long as you’d like. I’ll get dinner later today, I still need to get my house in order. It will be our pleasure.” You dragged Shanks out the back door of the house by his empty sleeve.

“What are you doing?!” you whisper yelled at him.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” he wasn’t yelling, but Shanks wasn’t happy. “ You’re the one trying to go on a date with Marco.” You tutted at him.

“You’re being ridiculous, and you know it. Marco was helping as a friend after Buggy called him. You heard all that, right? Behave or I’ll uninvite you to dinner.” You would too, you didn’t have a lot of patience for Shanks’s jealousy. Shanks huffed.

“Fine, we’ll have the rooster over for dinner. But I’m gonna call you my wife the entire time .” If your eyes rolled any harder, they’d be out of your head.

~~~

You hadn’t specified that you’d be the one cooking dinner for a reason. You weren’t the best cook on the Grand Line, to say the least. You bribed Lucky to make the dinner for the three of you with a large bottle of sake. He obliged and made a fantastic orange duck dish with jasmine rice. Of course, you brought out a nice bottle of wine and some sake, unsure which Marco would prefer. You were setting the table while Shanks sat in your overstuffed armchair.

“This thing’s great, we should bring it back to the ship.” You hummed in response.

“I know it’s great, that’s why I bought it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the house and most of my belongings. It’s not like I can bring it all with me.” Shanks was messing around and finally found the lever for the footrest. He pulled it and launched himself backwards, enjoying the full recline.

“Oh yeah, this is definitely coming with us. Now, if I had this chair when you first came on board I wouldn’t have had to sleep in the bed.”

“Shanks, be serious for a minute. What should I do with the house? I can’t be here at any regular intervals. I guess I’ll have to sell it.” The thought made you sad - you really loved this house. 

“Sell it? Why?” Shanks asked.

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be here to stop anyone from taking things, and I don’t want to ask Marco -” Shanks cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No one’s gonna take anything from here. I’m gonna spread the word that this is my vacation house. No one will touch it. And maybe we really can vacation here, this place is great.” 

“Do you think that will work?” You gnawed at your fingernail, while setting the final silverware down.

“Sure, I’m not an Emperor for nothing. Keep your house, keep your stuff, take whatever you want with you. But we’re bringing this chair.”

~~~

The dinner was lovely, except for two things. The first was Shanks and the second was Marco. Shanks was in a pissy mood, trying to cover it up but not quite succeeding. Marco kept making little comments to annoy Shanks and they hit their mark every time. 

“Thank you again for watching over my house, Marco,” you said, pouring him a cup of sake. Shanks had sat right next to you and kept trailing his fingers up your thigh during the meal. Which was incredibly obvious because he had to stop eating to do it, due to having only one hand. You slapped it away as discreetly as you could.

“My pleasure yoi. I always enjoy coming here.” Marco gave a little half smile as he sipped his drink. Shanks stiffened incrementally. “This is excellent, is this aged?”

“Yeah, this is an older batch. It’s pretty good, I was thinking of entering it in a competition.” Maybe you could enter neutral territory by talking about work.

“My wife is so modest, it’s better than ‘pretty good.” Shanks kissed your cheek. He had kept his word and was referring to you only as his wife. 

“Mh. Speaking of which, were you thinking of gifting Whitebeard another bottle for his birthday? I can bring you that tokkuri if you want to use it again.” You rubbed one temple. These two idiots were going to be the death of you.

“I didn’t know you made sake for Whitebeard. How…thoughtful of you.” Shanks said through his teeth. 

“Just once, and no, I don’t think I can. I’ll be sailing with Shanks now, and the ship isn’t a great place for brewing.” Maybe you could move to Laughtale and live happily ever after by yourself.

“So you are still married? Last you said, you wanted to get divorced yoi.” Marco said it like he was talking about the weather but you swore Shanks’s haki was starting to build. Maybe you’d kill Marco before you moved to Laughtale. Or Shanks, whichever made your life easier.

“We’re still married,” Shanks gritted out, taking your hand in his. “My wife couldn’t get rid of me so easily.” He kissed the back of your hand. Marco smiled calmly. 

“It’s rare to see you like this, Shanks,” Marco said with a raised brow and knowing smile. Shanks was already moving his hand towards you under the table. 

“Like what?” You said as you swatted Shanks’s hand for the millionth time off your inner thigh.

“Jealous. I only ever see you relaxed or serious, with nothing in between yoi. Your wife is the only person I’ve ever seen inspire such feelings in you. It’s endearing.” Shanks barked a genuine laugh.

“Only person I ever met who was worth being jealous over.”

~~~

The rest of the dinner went slightly better but not by much. You were doing the dishes while Marco insisted on clearing the table. Shanks had gone back to reclining in the chair, still drinking.

“Leave them, I’ll do it.” You felt bad your guest was helping. 

“I don’t mind yoi,” Marco replied. “Have you decided what you’re going to do with your house?” You nodded.

“Shanks is going to spread a rumor that it’s his vacation home to keep it safe. I think that’ll work. You can come here when you want though, it’s not like we’re going to be here all that often.” In your house inspection, you’d found that Marco had fixed a number of small projects you always meant to get to. That alone had earned him a permanent visit invitation. 

“Thank you, I just might. Nice to get away from my siblings now and again.” You hummed in response, still working on the dishes. “By the way, yoi. It seems like things are patched up between you two. But if you ever need to go somewhere else, you can come aboard the Moby yoi.” You paused for a moment. You hadn’t considered the possibility of staying with Whitebeard. He was another Yonko, you'd be safe. Before you could answer Shanks was by your side, leaning against you casually. But nothing about his demeanor was relaxed. Laughtale was looking like a better and better plan.

“You invited my wife to come with you?” Shanks was speaking in a clipped tone. Marco was unphased, still carrying plates. You looped your arm around Shanks, to attempt to calm him down.

“Shanks, stop. Marco, send my thanks to Whitebeard, but I’m staying with Shanks.”

“You’ve gotta be needed back on your ship, you’re the doctor after all,” said Shanks coolly. Marco laughed.

“You’re right, and I’ll be leaving soon. It’s nice to see you both again, yoi. Thank you for the dinner.” Marco deposited the remaining dishes in the sink. You said your goodbyes and you walked him to the door, giving him a final hug goodbye. He partially transformed and flew off into the night. You sighed, it was always so beautiful to watch him in his Zoan form.

“Show off,” Shanks grumbled. You walked back to the living room and plopped down on your couch. Shanks laid down next to you with his head on your lap.

“You’ve been such a brat all night! Marco was just being helpful.” You weren’t mad at Shanks but you’d wished he could contain his jealousy better.

“Inviting my wife onto another Yonko’s ship isn’t helpful, ” he replied. “Besides, Marco was provoking me!” Shanks’s mood was already on the mend with Marco gone.

“Mmm. And the all powerful Emperor just had to take the bait, right?” You jiggled your legs, making his head bounce slightly.

“I can make your thighs shake more than that,” Shanks said, turning his head towards your body.

“Show me, husband .” Shanks grinned. You hadn’t called him that yet. Hopefully the last of his jealousy would dissipate. And if not, well, jealousy sex was always fun. 

[oz00ms2]

I bet Shanks in the Firebug au has asked Firebug to come with him at least several times. Since their departure here is on way different terms than canon (even tough getting to Firebug that it was indeed an accident is probably gonna take a while. But I do believe it would be easier to get trough to him than canon as well) Shanks still holds out a little hope that he can set things right. Firebug holds a dagger to the dreaded redhaired pirates troath and snarls at him for any last words, only for his opponent to grab his arm in a flash and violently twist it behind his own back, managing to pin him to the wall behind him.

If Sharks had any mercy he would kill him quickly, slit his troath, run a sword trough his back, even killing him with his own explosives would be less cruel than him leaning in so close that he can feel Shanks breath against his neck. “Buggy…sail with me again. Let’s see the world like we always said we would when we were kids! The whole grand line is gonna know your name! We’ll have our own ship and our own crew like we’d always wanted and they’d adore you! I’ll let you design all the weapons you can think off! Please Buggy, let’s make Rodger prou-“

The elbow to his stomach hits Shanks hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs completly for a second and Firebug screams loud enough for his ears to ring and it makes avoiding Firebugs frantic stabbing towards him with his holdout weapon a bit of a challenge : “I DON’T NEED CHARITY FROM THE LIKES OF YOU! HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT ME LIKE YOU STILL KNOW ME!? HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU STILL KNOW ABOUT WHAT I DREAM ABOUT YOU RAT?!”

If Shanks was a merciful man he would have shouted back at Firebug or at least try to reason with him. If he wasn’t as utterly cruel as Firebug knows him to be he maybe would have looked hurt by those accusations, trying to tell him that this is not true, that he still believes in the young boy he knew years ago. Even just looking slightly remorseful would have been better than this. But Shanks doesn’t yell and he doesn’t try to argue, the smug bastards face instead bearing an expression of complete and utter understanding as he says “I see. You have your own dreams now.” Before the oncoming footsteps alert them to more marines coming and Shanks disappears.

Captain Firebug replays that scene over and over in his head. It’s disgusting. Utterly absurd. Sailing with Shanks again. Trading his secure post for a life of danger and uncertainty. Damn Idiot has lost his marbles. Like their time together as kids meant anything. Like the promises between two dumbass kids in the middle of the night mean shit to the world. Like Shanks hanging down from his Hammock and extending his pinkie towards him was akin to a blood pact when he promised him they would be the greatest pirates who ever lived (“The most amazing.” -“The strongest!” -“ The absolute FLASHIEST and COOLEST” “The most feared pirate captain duo in the world!”). It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t…

In the middle of the night, Buggy smothers his face with a pillow to muffle his anguished screams of rage and frustration.

hey anon, real tears in my eyes. 🥺😭💔💕

[jei-rifni]

Do you think Zoro would get to meet the other strawhats in your Odd Goth Family au? Because I have been thinking about how he’d meet Luffy for way too long long at this point.

Picture this: You’re Mihawk, opening the door after an ungodly amount of ringing at rapid speed to see a … sticky little thing looking up at you with a wild grin. You realize that this is Garps boy and he probably shouldn’t even be here, but you know that Shanks is in the neighborhood again and that this kid follows him around like a lost puppy, so it’s not like he’s technically unsupervised. „May I…. Help-„ You get interrupted immediately„Can the green haired boy come out and play?“ The sticky thing cranes his neck to look behind you into the hallway, like you have hidden said green haired boy like a delightful surprise at a birthday party he’s not supposed to see yet, and makes a step forward. You hastily step aside in front of him again to stop him from getting any further, hoping you to not discourage this overeager boy from wanting to play with your son, while also trying to stay away far enough from his grubby little hands to not risk staining your white dress shirt. „He’s… upstairs. I can certainly ask him if he wants to play, but he just got home and wanted to take a na-„ „I caught a beetle!“

Your son gasps and dashes from his lookout spot behind the plant on the first floor, abandoning his hiding spot from where he has been watching both of you with suspicion ever since you opened the door to this weird child. Said child holds up a a dirty old Tupperware box, containing a large atlas beetle. Great care has been employed to make sure the bug has enough soil, sticks and leaves, as well as making sure to dutifully poke some holes into the old lid for airflow.

„I CAUGHT A BEETLE!“ „AWESOME!“ „I’m Luffy. Want to go catch frogs?“ „Hell yeah!“ „ZORO! Put your shoes on before you go outside!“ Your son grumbles and dashes back in, not even bothering to lace up his sneakers before he zips right back. „AND MAKE SURE YOU GET BACK BEFORE ITS DARK!“

Aw this is so cuutte!

Ive already had an idea to how he meets the strawhats for a while! (I want the order to be similar to canon with a twist hehe) I just never got to continuing the comic yet. Ive been mega busy with things my life so thats gonna be a while. I love this though its adorable! Mihawk’s first impression of the strawhats will be very silly and hes gonna be very confused (and so will zoro)

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 14: Returning Home

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.4k

You loathed this little cottage house near the ocean.

And yet, as you stood facing the sea, you were overwhelmed with joy. 

“Hey.” Ace appeared behind you, kissing your cheek as you turned to look at him. You weren’t sure why, but seeing him here made you want to cry. 

He wrapped his arms around your very pregnant belly, and you could feel your stomach start to move in response to his touch. 

“Feels like the baby wants to get out pretty bad,” Ace cooed, rubbing his hands across your stretched skin.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” You asked. “We haven’t even thought of names yet.”

“I thought we’d have more time,” Ace said, laughing nervously. “Everything happened so fast. At least the nursery is ready.”

You looked at him, surprised. “The nursery?”

“Finished it this morning.” He paused to kiss you again. “Wanna see?” 

“No!” You cried. You weren’t sure why, but you knew you couldn’t go into that house. 

Ace looked hurt at your immediate distaste, and you rushed to rectify it. 

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” you said. “I just want to be here with you right now.”

He smiled, resting his head on your shoulder. “I think it’s a girl,” he muttered. “I hope she looks just like you.”

A ringing came from inside the house, and Ace kissed your cheek and ran to it. 

“Ace!” You cried, running after him. “Wait, don’t go in-“

You passed through the door frame without a second thought, only trying to save Ace. 

You were suddenly standing in the middle of a Marine Base, Marines rushing around. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Akainu’s voice came from behind you, and a strong hand gripped your shoulder as he turned you around to face him. “How did you-“

The cigar fell out of his mouth, and everyone in the compound stopped to look at you. 

His mouth twisted into a smile, his eyes darting down to your round belly. “Newgate. Looks like you’ve been keeping secrets.”

You pulled away from him, sprinting as fast as you could. But you were in enemy territory, and he was faster than you now. You didn’t even make it twenty feet before he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you backwards.

You screamed out, clawing at his arm as you tried to break free. But his grip on you was steeled, refusing to let you go. 

“Ace!” You screamed out. “Ace! Help!”

“You poor delusional girl,” he sneered, throwing industrial sea prism handcuffs over your wrists. “Portgas D. Ace is dead. He has been for months. And now you and your child can join him. And finally, two wretched bloodlines will end.”

He shook you like a ragdoll, laughing maniacally at his victory. Just like he had told you long ago, he would get the last laugh.

“Wake up!” Shanks shouted, and your eyes flew open.

Your body was being held down and shaken, and you panicked as you thrashed to get out of Akainu’s grip, still thinking of your dream. 

“Get off!” You screamed, pushing people away. “Stay away from me!”

Hands quickly receded, Shanks and Beckman exchanging a worried glance. 

“You had a bad dream, kid.” Shanks reached back out, but you cowered away from him, your mind still groggy. “You’re okay. It was just a dream.”

“No.” You searched the room, eyes crazed as if you were a trapped animal. “No. Where’s Ace?”

“He’s not here,” Shanks reminded you gently. 

You felt your stomach. It was no longer large and swollen like your dream. It was as you remembered it now, just a small bump. 

“It felt so real,” you whispered. But your reality was slowly coming back to you. “Where’s Ace?” You asked again. You were afraid of the answer. 

“Impel Down,” Shanks said. “We got news that he arrived there this morning.”

“How long until-“ you couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Eight days,” Shanks told you. “You should really get some-“

“I need to go find my father.” You sat up, ignoring the queasy feeling in your stomach. Your bracelet was still on, so you had to assume this was a result of your own nerves. 

“Your boat is ready for you,” Shanks said, accepting your determination to go home. “You should be able to reach Whitebeard by tonight.”

You knew that it should’ve been a longer trip home. Shanks must have been sailing towards Whitebeard while you slept. Towards someone who was supposed to be his rival. Just so you could get home faster. 

Tears filled your eyes and you lunged toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Shanks.”

“I’ll see you in Marineford,” he whispered. You gave a tearful nod and got out of bed, eager to get back to your ship. To your family. 

The sea was kind to you on your return journey, and you had the feeling Shanks and his crew followed you back to your ship, always just out of view. 

The setting sun painted the Moby Dick in a beautiful glow. You took a chance to admire it, throwing away your fear and dread just for a moment to stand in awe of the massive ship. 

Your father stood at the bow of the ship, clearly waiting for you. You almost wished he would use his ability and send a tidal wave your way. It would be less scary than his silent stare. You saw Marco next to him, and he shot into the sky and towards you. 

Marco dropped down onto your ship, staring at you in disappointment. 

“You knew that day, didn’t you?” He asked. “That’s why you left so fast.”

“I was pretty sure,” you whispered, staring at your feet. 

You couldn’t look him in the eye. You couldn’t help but feel like everything that had happened was your fault now. 

“Do you not trust me?” Marco asked, his voice breaking. “After everything we’ve been through, you really don't-” He let out a shaky breath, unable to continue his sentence. 

“I knew you would have to report it.” Your heart ached. You wanted to go back and change everything. To go to Marco earlier. To question Teach in the hallway. To make Ace realize he needed to stay with you. To hug Thatch again. 

“I see.” Marco pulled out some sea prism handcuffs from his bag and held them out to you. 

“I have a bracelet already.” You held up your arm, showing him the leather cord with sea prism stone. 

“It’s not for that,” he said. “You’re a prisoner now.”

You took a step away from him, your mind clouded with confusion. 

“You disobeyed orders, Y/N. Several times. There has to be consequences.”

“Marco-“

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“I’ll behave,” you begged, taking another step away from him. If you put those cuffs on, you weren’t sure when they would be taken off. “Please don’t put those on me.”

“Just listen to me!” Marco shouted, stepping towards you. “Stop arguing for once!”

“Please no.” You took another step back, your back pressing against the railing of your ship. “I just wanted to help. Please don’t-“

He took another step toward you, pinning you against the side of the ship. He was close enough to force you to look at him now, and you could see he had dark bags under his eyes. You couldn’t imagine the amount of sleepless nights you had caused him. 

“Please,” you begged. “I’ll listen to everything you say no matter what.”

He held out the cuffs silently, waiting for you to put your hands in them. 

“You’re going to have to do it yourself,” you said, tears filling your eyes. “Please Marco. Don’t-“

He grabbed your wrist and snapped it into a cuff, and then your other one. You could feel all of the energy drain out of your body at the contact of the Marine-grade stone, and you stumbled from the exhaustion. 

“You never did make things easy,” he said. His words were sharp, but his hands were gentle as he carefully scooped you off your feet and held you close to him. You stifled a sob as he extended his Phoenix wings to carry you back to the Moby Dick. Back home.

--

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[wordy-little-witch]

Silly hours but Shanks and Buggy being platonic soulmates is so cute and soft and I'm emotional.

They swore to each other to always be each other's in their own way, and it's a unique relationship. They aren't siblings. They aren't lovers. They're Shanks-and-Buggy, Buggy-and-Shanks, two threads woven together and twisted, tied, folded into one another. They do not swear over a drink. They do not swear by a ring. Instead they share blood, a ceremony performed in a little cabin with moonlight as their only witness, tears and blood shed and turned from fear and insecurity into resolve and love because it was them against the world, it was, it is, it will be, it will never not be. They cut their hands together, they press the wounds to each other's together, they cling together and they swear and they promise and they vow. And they heard a sea bird screech loudly in the quiet night, hear bells without source, and they press closer, closer, closer still until they may as well be one body, one mind, one soul. They fall asleep on the floor in a pile of limbs.

Roger notices the next day that something has changed. Their Haki has shifted, a change so minute that it was only because of his Gift that he caught it. The boys were together more often than not, and their Haki left imprints on the things around them, living and not alike. It was more odd to find one without a tinge of the other's presence. Roger nearly missed it.

He doesn't call it out. But he knows. He knows this the same way he knows that the sea is home and that the winds sing and the ocean wails in joy and grief. He knows because the world tells him in a language braided into his very cells. He know because he knows his boys. He simply smiles.

From then on, not much chages at a glance. The boys don't even actively notice themselves until well down the line.

They've always had something of a sixth sense to each other. Buggy always knows where Shanks is. Shanks always knows how Buggy is feeling. They move like a well oiled machine together, seamlessly bleeding into one another's space in a way alien to many but normal to the crew. It's always been this way.

This innate knowledge increases in fits and bursts. They are acutely aware of each other. They have a gut instinct if the other is hurt. They finish one another's sentences (to the fond-exasperated-annoyance of both), they share an entire conversation with a mere glance. It's uncanny, becoming undeniable, and the crew is left wondering how and why and where they managed to get the ability to do this. Roger, when asked, laughs. Shanks, when asked, just smiles. Buggy, when asked, flips off the inquirer at best, swings a knife while screaming obscenities with a blush at worst.

Through this connection, they share everything. Through this connection, they ebb and flow like the Seas that they rest upon and the winds they follow.

Through this connection, a question is asked in the pouring rain by a boy with the weight of the grief-stricken universe on his shoulders, and a boy equally hurt and equally burdened gives the answer to the real question beneath it all.

They clasp their hands, scarred palms pressed together in am echo of their vows years before, and they seek out a place to rest.

Shanks becomes a captain, a mentor, a warrior, a fighter, a father, an Emperor.

Buggy becomes a captain, a trickster, a deceiver, a puppeteer, a warlord, an Emperor.

Shanks loses an arm, and Buggy's detaches without warning, islands and Seas away.

Buggy is bitten by lightning and then seastone, and Shanks staggers from the sudden endorphin and adrenaline rush which is yanked away just as quickly.

Shanks punches a wall and Buggy shakes the tingles from his knuckles.

Buggy gets cornered in a cell by inmates worse than the rest, and Shanks chokes in the fear and reflective fury in his veins.

They do not see each other for years but they're always aware, always associated, always facing different paths, independent together.

Roger had seen the start of the connection between them, but it is Luffy who asks Shanks about the blue clouds at his wrists, who asked Buggy about the whisps of red at his crown and chest. They both note it, nod, and carry on.

They are each other's, a package deal, though never explicitly stated.

[vangundysdiamonds]

Looking for a kind of creative diamond ring? You must have a look at Van Gundy Diamonds' Twist Shank Diamond Rings. Browse the collection to shop the best

[williambarthman]

What Questions Should You Ask When Buying an Engagement Ring?

Women just crave diamonds. So, there is nothing more interesting than diamond engagement rings to impress your beloved. Getting an engagement ring is quite a difficult task. Your to-be-wife will wear this on her hand forever. It will be a symbol of your unconventional love. If you are going to purchase an engagement ring, you must know what questions you should ask. This will assist you to obtain the perfect one. This article will help you to learn what questions you need to ask yourself and the jeweler before making a purchase.

The Questions You Must Ask Yourself

Before buying precious jewelry you must meet your requirements.

What is Your Budget?

If you want to purchase a ring like Halo Engagement Rings, you must ask yourself about your budget. This will help you to find a lot of engagement rings within that price range, and you will be able to easily pick one out of them.

What is her Desirable Style?

If you are planning to buy an engagement ring, you must ask your would-be-wife about her desired style. You will be able to get engagement rings in different cuts, sizes, or colors. You may go for three-stone engagement rings.

What is the Ring Size of Your Beloved?

You will be able to purchase an engagement ring without any hassle if you know the ring size of your beloved in advance. This will assist you to keep it a surprise.

The Questions You Need to Ask a Jeweler

The jeweler should ask your queries. 

What Ring Sizes Do You Keep?

You will find many jewelers carry only the standard size engagement rings. So you must ask the jewelers whether they keep that particular size of the ring that you want. Solitaire engagement rings are becoming very trendy.

Can You Modify The Ring?

You have to ask this question so that you can prevent yourself from facing any issues in the future.

Are there any Grading Reports for this Stone?

It is the most vital question you need to ask the jeweler. Most diamonds come with special grading reports from organizations like the Gemological Institute of America (GIA) so that you can find every detail of the diamond.

What Type of Metal is required to make the Ring?

Engagement rings can be made of silver, gold, platinum, yellow gold, etc. You may choose twisted engagement rings or split-shank engagement rings.

Conclusion 

You are provided with all the important questions you need to ask to purchase the perfect engagement ring for your beloved. If you have any more queries regarding this topic, you may visit our site once.

The Source URL: https://williambarthman.wixsite.com/william-barthman-jew/post/what-questions-should-you-ask-when-buying-an-engagement-ring 

[blackholesun321]

Wing!Au do you think small children kinda like to tip forward and walk on all fours sometimes? not like just walking around but like when playing around and you’re already tumbling with your friends and they are only a few feet away well just butt up and dog walk over cuz you have this heavy weight on your back keeping you off balance anf you are still kinda getting the hang of walking around so ya! why not? and you’re like 5-6ish so it ls excusable and is this a poorly written ask to get others to imagine child luffy playing like tag or something on the red force and scurrying away from whoevers It on all fours giggling adorably the whole way? pshhh nooo👀👀👀 mkaythanksbyyeee

NO BUT THE VISION FOR THIS!

And yeah kids skitter around anyways with out wings adding to them, it would probably just make it a lot more likely they’d do that in this au in general.

But I think people forget that Luffy runs on Looney Tunes physics and body horror. Like, once my man gets his devil fruit skittering around because it's less "aww cute 🥰" and more "oh my god! Does that child have bones!" He bends his wings down in such a way that he uses them like another pair of legs, like a spider. On more than one occasion, Shanks and he have pranked new recruits with Luffy going full ghost from the ring on them limbs practically sliding and falling over each other, neck twisted at an impossible angle, wings used like spider legs. It's horrifying to watch and hilarious to do.

Also the idea of kids skittering around the red force and randomly jumping out at people like juvenile hawks practicing to dive a prey is adorable. Shanks will of course pretend like a lion or tiger to be surprised then play fight a bit before wing jail.

Mihawk just corrects their jump and attack, and if they keep try to attack him (Zoro) then he’ll do wing jail till they’ve calmed a bit.

[mega-ringsandthings-world]

Another bit of brainrot Loguetown AU, finally knowing each other's names; The boy teeters for a second, discombobulated by the recent blow, and lists against Mihawk before Mihawk can stop him. Mihawk's hands tighten on instinct when the boy's bony shoulder pokes him square in the chest, and the boy winces out a sound, low and undeniably hurt, the bleat of an ailing baby lamb.

Mihawk eases his grip, regretting it when the boy leans further against him, his head rolling back. His mouth and nose are joined by a bridge of nothing but red, and bruises are already ringing around his left eye in a vivid plum-violet; nearly the exact same color of Mihawk's jacket. 

If Mihawk lets him go, he'll fall, which rather defeats the purpose of Mihawk grabbing him in the first place. So Mihawk plants his feet, adjusting for the boy's weight, and waits.

He finds himself still looking at the boy's face, at the minutes-old blood sluggishly trailing off the round chin, the mottling on the skin stretched over a cheekbone, the way his eyes move under his eyelids, jerky. With his eyes closed, there is no trace to be had of the quiet fierceness he'd displayed earlier, it's nothing but the face of a boy that Mihawk is looking at. 

After about a minute the boy rights himself with a whimper, straining weakly against the hold Mihawk has on him. 

"Don't," Mihawk says, and reapplies some pressure on his elbow. The boy's eyes fly open. Mihawk has never noticed before, but they're a clear brown. Almost grey.  

"You-" says the boy, looking right at him. 

Mihawk tips him back upright, discreetly measuring if he's steady enough on his feet to let go. A few seconds later the boy proves that he is by twisting out of Mihawk's hands, turning so he's facing him.  

The boy's hands come up in a clink of chains, wiping over his mouth in a now familiar gesture that does absolutely nothing for the mess across his face. His eyes remain on Mihawk. 

"Thanks."

Mihawk inclines his head. But maybe it's too subtle, because the boy shakes his head after a moment, red hair flicking into his eyes.

"I mean it," he says. "Thanks. Uh, I don't...thanks-"

It takes Mihawk a moment - longer than he likes - to realize the boy is asking for his name.

He hesitates. But there's no reason he shouldn't give the boy his name. It's not as if it's some secret, most around here, marine or pirate, know it. Either by his face or by repute. And the boy-

-he doesn't know. Doesn't know who Mihawk is.

"Dracule Mihawk," Mihawk says, just as the boy's face starts to take on a cast of disappointment. Without fail, trepidation or enthused aggression always follows. And without fail, they are both easily dealt with in the same way.

The boy, however, just smiles behind all that red. It'd be something pleasant, maybe even excited, if Mihawk could see it properly.

"Thanks, Mihawk," says the boy once again. Mihawk blinks. There's something humming around him, warm like the glimmer-glow of a lantern at night, like he really means it. Mihawk blinks. He does.

"I'm Shanks, by the way.'"

[fanaticsnail]

The comments' section has not enough space to express how wonderful Sapsorrow is coming out and I can't abuse the poor DMs.

The pinning just keep growing!!! 🌲🌲🌲

Governess wandering the castle at the early morning!!! Are you really a lady protagonist in a gothic castle if you haven't wandered the halls in your nightdress while perusing your growing feelings for the lord of the land???

And the twist of the tale with Mihawk in the place of Sapsorrow!!! I live for this kind of retellings. And of course, he's going to keep his secret identity now that he's found a way to interact with her without the pressure of their station. Ohhh, that's going to payout later XD

The ghosts gossiping to Perona is so funny! That first glimpse of Croc and the moon had me all 😱 Mihawk is asking for help to the other pirate lords and then boom! The calls!

Buggy calling him baby, I can't XDDD I read it exactly with Buggy's voice when he's sweet talking Arlong XDDD

I can totally envision Shanks doing lingerie as a hobbie 😳 but come again, he had a ring too??? There's literally ten rings out there at the hands of ten Pirate Lords waiting for some unsuspected women to be married to them??? 👀👀👀

Shank's may be so sure he got rid of his (and why was he actually wearing the ring? How on earth he didn't proposed to some random woman while drunk at a bar? XD) but with how these things work, his may be found by some sexy huntress who managed to catch that sea beast and found the ring while butchering it... And now we have a sequel XD

We can't have a fully domesticated Zoro. He has to get cocky from time to time. And of course he would be the kind of guy who gets a crush on his teacher XDDD

I can't wait for the ball!!! There is no better scenery to fertilize the pinning soil than a good ol' ballroom. This I say!

Also, I've made something 🫣 I told you I have a design degree to abuse and sometimes it kicks (me) until I use it. And all fairy tale related themes get me all creative.

I don't know why I have a feel this story is going somewhere and it needs a proper fairytale title to go with it 💌

I may or may not know how to bind books 🫢

OH. MY. GOSH. MS. VITA.

Holy shit. what the hell did I do to deserve such beautiful words and imagery.

I am screaming, crying, throwing up. Oh my gosh.

I am in the process of brainstorming lore for Sapsorrow's Rings, but absolutely Shanks had one. T'would be a shame for it to, I don't know, wash up on a deserted island to be found within the hands of someone wild huntress of a woman.

You really do have to have a midnight explore in a castle in your nightdress. It wouldn't be the same without it: especially if it means she gets to catch out a precious Farm-Hand bringing her fresh flowers and humming to himself.

I am IN LOVE with the banner. I can't even believe it. It's beautiful. Stunning. So fairytale and absolutely charming.

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Five, Close Quarters

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: i got noooo idea if demons exist in one piece and didn’t appear so off some searches so gonna chalk it up to powers from a devil fruit. also think I really like this chapter??

Masterlist

-

Ocean waves lulled onto the beach as the sun reached its peak, whilst two ships tied and anchored at a makeshift dock. Lounging near the entrance of the sea cave was a company of pirates, ones that belonged to the Red Force. On proud display was that of Luffy’s wanted poster, with alcohol passed around. 

Mihawk eyed his red-haired ‘friend’ warily, finding himself without the want to finish off whatever ale was tossed to him. 

The joy- pride- whatever it was he didn’t quite care, was evident on the crew. Though he’d imagined if the Luffy he met was anything like that as a child, sure the boy would have made a lasting impression. But his mind was elsewhere.

It was coming up to a month since he’d first lay eyes on the woman his heart now belonged to. Perhaps distance truly did make the heart fonder in this case. His memory raced to remind himself of every inch he’d taken in, from her delicate fingers, to supple skin and breathtaking beauty. He wanted to own every part of her, to know every intimate detail of her past, and to understand the inner workings of her mind. Anything to do with her up to the air she breathed he wanted part in. 

It was a sickening line of thought, truly it twisted and burned his chest inside that he’d thought he’d implode at times. But Sabine pulled him into her orbit, dug her innocent little claws in, and he’d be a fool to resist. 

His mind constantly drifted to her from time sailing on the sea, amidst a job, and even before he fell asleep. He wondered what she was up to and where, if she were safe, if she thought about him. He let himself obsessively obsess over someone he met twice, truly knew nothing about and now had to wait for them to make a life changing decision in months time. Setting himself up for failure surely, but high risk brings high reward, he understood that well enough. 

"You usually got your panties in a bunch Hawkeyes- but this is extra.” Shanks stared at Mihawk knowingly as he knocked back his drink. 

"What are you talking about?” Mihawk quipped back, tone biting with a hint of exasperation. 

"Haven't touched your drink."

Mihawk glanced down at the open bottle, liquid slowly warming in his grasp from nursing it, "Please elaborate on your nonsensical ramblings."

Shanks grinned as he took a swig of mead, "I know that face. Only one thing causes men of our stature to look so grim."

"Don't compare us-"

"A girl."

"Fucks sake." Mihawk decided he was done, he’d take no further questions from the red haired imbecile of a pirate. He sat his drink down in the sand uncaring as it tipped, spilling out the amber liquid. He only got a few feet away. 

 "Where's your ring?" Shanks smirked, only having to ask one simple question and Mihawk would know he was beat, knowing how to prod all the right areas to tick Mihawk off.

Mihawk stopped and turned with a fire in his eyes, “Don’t pry in places you have no business.”

“Oh come on,” He laughed drunkenly, “You don’t just give that out!”

It did not matter- the intricacies of what the ring symbolized to Mihawk. Or it shouldn’t have mattered to Shanks who found far too much enjoyment out of his discomfort.

“Don’t use that night, what- a decade ago when I drunkenly told you about what it meant- against me.”

“Yeah yeah.” Shanks waved a hand dismissively, his smirk growing larger by the second. A few of his crew were beginning to listen in, “Come on, a man as distrusting as you wouldn’t give something so precious to a stranger! Or maybe… you did?” 

“Like you know anything about it.” 

Not needing to push anymore, the red haired man shrugged, “Tell me about her.”

“No.”

“I’ll never bother you again!” 

“Liar.”

“Just one thing then you can go. She a pirate? Marine? A sweet girl you saved from an evil pirate?”

Mihawk sighed, ran a handle along the fabric of his jacket then stared right into the depths of Shanks’s soul. 

“She’s a nun.”

The beach went utterly silent. It sounded like even the entirety of the ocean and its inhabitants, and even the air went silent too. Then a booming chorus of loud shouts and laughter drowned the silence out. 

“She’s traveling with Luffy.”

At the mention of Luffy the crew died down again, ears strained to listen.

“What’s he doing with a nun?” Yasopp called over. 

Mihawk would indulge him one more time and wanted to set a record straight before Shanks could say anything about him being a cradle robber, “She’s much older than him by the way, but she’s on sabbatical and he wants to show her the damned world before she goes back. With that strange boy she’s sure to get a show.”

Shanks laughed, “Sounds about Luffy. Pfft well, guess ole’ Mihawk here is gonna have to become a priest! Or celibate the rest of his life, good luck man, you’ll be in my prayers.” And he raised his beer up emphasizing the last word, toasting to Mihawk's ‘doom.’

It was the sudden noise of the little transponder snail he kept safely tucked away that finally gave Mihawk a reason to leave.

Annoyance riddled every bone in his body until the Marine on the other end said a nun wanted to talk to him. It felt like he’d been doused in cold water, fear striking through him at what that could mean. But when he heard her voice, it calmed something inside him. Without a doubt in his mind he’d head to Angelica Island to see her, to aid her in whatever venture she needed him for. It didn’t matter. It could be as simple as needing him to reach an item off a high shelf. Because getting to lay eyes, possibly a hand on her after a month would make it worth it. The two days to get there though would test his patience. 

-

Sabine stilled, suddenly deathly aware of the new presence in her room as she opened the door wishing she hadn’t gone out from the way sweat dripped down her nape. Dread pooled in her stomach like molten lava, her pulse hiked the second she stepped onto the premises. Hairs on the back of her neck stood straight, her instincts screaming at her to turn around. But as her gaze caught the figure lounging beside the window with its sheer curtains blowing about in the wind- a surreal calmness washed over her. Her knees buckled but she caught herself on the door frame as her cheeks burned red.

“Mihawk.”

There he sat in all his glory. He wore a simple cream shirt half unbuttoned, his coat and hat lay haphazardly on the bed. And the giant sword leaned resting against a far wall. The sight of him made her stomach churn, made her chest flitter so painfully she desperately wanted to be closer to him. 

“Sabine, dear.”

“You came.” She regained her senses as she shut the door behind her, her back pressed against the wood as she watched him. Watched him in awe as he sat across the room. Awed at the fact he hadn’t lied about his intentions to help her.

“Of course. You called.” 

He said those words so casually, but it makes her burn inside. Like it was the most obvious thing on the planet to him, while she’d been stressing. Sabine called, so of course Mihawk came to her as if she were his light in the depths of the darkest ocean calling to him.

Her head spun from the noxious fumes of the jasmine candle she’d left lit since the morning as she slowly inched forward. And how it swirled with the scents coming in from the window- every sense of hers blazing in sharp awareness. Everything zoomed in on Mihawk who straightened in the loveseat, his pupils dilating as he watched her movements and every breath like it’d be the last.

Sabine took a shuddering breath in as she stood an arms length away from him now, her heart lurching as he stood. Towering over her, enormous and all powerful. Consuming her as she rocked on her feet in a trance as it took every ounce of her not to reach out and touch him. The intrusive need to graze her fingers up the front of his shirt, feel the chiseled muscle that lies underneath and his radiating warmth. 

Biting her lip, she looked away wishing she could hurl into a ball and hide.

“Hi.” She squeaked out, “I didn’t know you were here. See, I’d gone for a walk, was too anxious waiting around cooped up in here.”

“I would have been earlier, but I ran into some difficulties.”

“Oh! Is everything okay?” 

“Yes.”

Unsure what to say she simply nodded, his level tone told her not to push further. Her room felt like a flurry of nerves consumed it raking along her skin, soft whispers scraping at the back of mind as she tried to calm herself. Nervous about how to behave around him. Nervous on what to even say. Nervous about if she looked presentable! All her practiced words she’d recited over and over since the sun went up, were flown right out the open window beside her. Mind filled with mush. 

A soft chuckle emanated past his lips as he delicately touched the side of her arm, careful to not scare her, to test the waters. 

“Little dove, why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Start from the beginning.” 

She nodded appreciating the directness as it gave her something to do, “Y-Yeah, one second.”

A thick notebook laid at her bedside, one she’d scribbled in all night trying to clearly navigate her thoughts. The story was long, possibly confusing, and frankly she didn’t know where to begin when she finally sat down to write. To write the thoughts she kept locked away inside felt like a personal betrayal of some sorts, that telling paper before an actual person was wrong. 

“I wasn’t sure how much you needed to know, it was almost therapeutic writing it all down, I don’t know if I’ve told anyone it all before.” She leafed through the pages, embarrassment leaking through. Intimate thoughts, intimate details written that she’d let him see because at this point she was desperate. Or she wanted him to. That if he was claiming to want her, then he needed to know her before following through.

Remembering his words of sweet possession, revering attention made her stomach lurch and flutter. A beast roaring inside her she’d never felt until Mihawk. How it blazed and consumed her thoughts with him, with daydreams and a childish obsession a girl holds when she’s young. Because she didn’t know him!

Shaking her head to force herself out of a heedless spiral, she went and handed him the notebook. 

“I’d rather not have to speak any of it.” 

Sabine sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling sick and unable to tear her eyes off him as he began reading. The only reason she told Luffy and the crew a few days ago about the gist of her past, was the heat of the moment. Sabine would have needed a whole bottle of wine to even consider talking about the whole story. 

To a pirate of his status, power, it probably meant nothing, Mihawk may think she was weak or overdramatic. But this was her life, she knew nothing else than her confined and confusing existence. 

Mihawk’s golden eyes read every word she’d written, even the ones she crossed out, with an acute concentration. 

‘I was 15 when father made me leave home. I don’t know if it was bad luck, but I believe it was him who brought the pirate to our doorstep. I believe he paid him to take me to the Monastery, then to kill mother. I still remember how the pirate laughed, calling father weak for not taking mother’s place but I think it was all part of his plot. What pirate takes a girl and drops her off at a Monastery? Few months before, father had become a fanatic over religion, believing we’d all been living in sin and needed to be a better family. I think he went crazy. Who knows- I surely don’t, but I wish mother took his place and I was never sent away.

Out of the 8 years I spent at the Monastery, which I could write a whole novel on the things that took place but wouldn’t know where to begin, I only left the isle once. Last year I came to Angelica Island, this one, with a Bishop because the matriarchs believed I needed a break. I found myself in a precarious position three years ago, a deacon had pried his way into my life in an inappropriate manner (I will not further explain as he’d inconsequential now). I’d always forced myself to believe I was doing a service through my work of prayer and confession, all the strict schedules and confining education- all for this wretched island to flush it all away. I genuinely believed there was a demon here causing people to take their lives violently, drawing them to insanity, that it needed to be sent back to hell. I believed it, I mean I saw the lady with the black eyes, I saw all the dark swirls, saw the blood she left, and felt her claw like nails on me. How was it not real? Even the marines had no leads. But the man she supposedly possessed who was showing strange behavior, I had to be the one to finish the exorcism as it killed the Bishop. All the terror stopped. I thought it was done!

I went back to the Monastery and for months I woke in fits of screams and horrible nightmares. I’d feel her choking grasp, couldn’t be in the dark, I was jumpy, changed. I always thought I was a fairly level headed person, liking to follow directions even if I hated it. Thought I could be a role model, a good nun, but over the last 8 years I could never take my permanent vows while most have over the years. So now I find myself here once again after feeling the most free and light since the start of my sabbatical. I don’t want to be here but clearly it drew me back for a reason, out of all the possibilities of islands to stop, why this one? I couldn’t leave with the crew when they planned to after a few days, I had to stay. I went to the archive in the religious sector of the town, met with the cardinal I trust who had helped last year. After meeting Luffy and finding out about devil fruits, these wild magical powers, I felt something gnaw at me. In long forgotten books are articles, journal entries, timelines of correlation in demonic activity and someone who’s eaten a devil fruit. I mean- I couldn’t imagine the matriarch seeing Luffy stretch out and not think he was possessed! And someone who could have those powers to possess or use ghosts, turn into that thing- wouldn’t that be more plausible? 

I’m ranting, I know, but it’s making me doubt even more. I feel guilty. I don’t think there’d ever been a demon. Just powers and violent happenings from someone with abilities that we don’t understand. The church is good at fear mongering I’ve noticed and all it takes is someone who has a strong opinion and is loud, people do crazy things out of fear. I think there is an actual person behind all this- Mihawk if you are reading, that is why I called you.’

Mihawk closed the notebook, humming to himself before he looked at Sabine. His eyes provided her with an unspoken understanding or support, she at least liked to think so. While normally able to tell when judgment existed within someone from the different sorts of people she had to spend time with due to the state of her occupation- with Mihawk that was different. She cared what he thought of her, far too much than she wanted to admit for only having been around him twice. Now three times. 

“I see. I think there is a plausible possibility of your hunch being correct. Much about devil fruits we don’t understand, or the type of powers they can give or even how they are activated. But you are not talking to a man of faith, I would rather believe in a realistic answer.”

“I’m glad you don’t think this is all foolish.” She straightened, heart thumping.

“I will look into it myself, from a less religious aspect however. A person behind this would be more logical, but I want to see reports from last year and logs from your time.” 

“That makes sense, we could get that information from Cardinal Joseph tomorrow, he’s very good in secretarial duties.”

“Have you asked the marines if there are suspicious reports of deaths lately? Or sightings?”

“No…” 

“The cardinal you mentioned, has he noticed anything strange within the community?”

“Yes and no.” Sabine flushed, ears red in embarrassment as she shifted, “We’ve been meeting, pouring through books but most aren’t helpful. I have notes further in my notebook. While nothing has happened like a year ago, he says he has felt unnerved. Said he’d been considering writing to me to see if I was doing okay, or felt the same, that maybe we were wrong.” 

He was thinking and she was waiting for him to plunge the knife in that she was ridiculous, and a fool to call him for this. It did not come. 

“You said you’ve felt light on your sabbatical, freer since you’d joined the church, whether you only meant to imply it innocently. I want you to feel that way once again.”

“So you’ll help?” She asks more excitedly than intended. Her body language changed and he enjoyed watching how her pupils expanded, shoulders relaxed, and a smile pulled at her lips.

“Yes.” Only for her. 

A weight released off her, one she hadn’t realized was there until that moment. The look she gave him was genuine, filled with thanks as she took a breath able to suck in air more than the airy gasps she’d been surviving off. 

It was late afternoon, almost evening but Sabine could have slept until morning. A small crash in adrenaline, she fell back onto the bed, her legs hanging off where her knees hinged. 

“Such a relief you’re here.” She rubbed her eyes as she stared at the ceiling.

The floorboards creaked under his heavy steps, she couldn’t see them but his eyes dominated along her form. He stopped at the sight of a necklace chain that hadn’t been there before. It sat below her garments. 

“Sit up,” His smooth voice tickled the back of her mind and she immediately obeyed. She pushed herself up on her forearms and gazed up at him with half lidded eyes. 

Closer. His legs just brushed against her knees. She held her breath, the sound of pumping blood decimated within her head as all other noise went silent. 

Mihawk had to lean down to reach her neck, where he looped a finger under the chain to pull it out from under her garbs. 

“I see you’ve been wearing my ring.”

“Yes.” She blushed furiously, her tongue darting across her lower lip, “It doesn’t fit any of my fingers though.”

“I do not doubt that.” It pleased him greatly to see her not only with it, treasuring it, but wearing it. It stroked the possessive tendencies that suddenly surged through him, the sudden emotions it wracked through his nerves and climbed under his skin, “How often does it get to grace this chain around your neck?”

Sabine stilled, breath caught before she admitted under her breath, “Everyday.”

His lips quirked and an impulsive thought popped into his mind. He quickly said, “I should go,” as he dropped the ring so it fell back to her chest, needing to move. He barely got a few strides away. 

“No- Stay in here. Or maybe they could move us to a room with double beds? I can’t be here alone at night anymore, I wake up crying like there’s a presence over me.” Sabine’s bottom lip jutted out, a plea falling from her lips as panic surged through her, “If you’re here I’ll feel safer. I only ask for genuine reasons, nothing nefarious I swear.”

“I know, don’t fret.” He reassured, but mainly reassuring himself that staying in the same room as her was a good idea. 

No matter how patient and strict of a man he was in training or in battle- in life, she suddenly changed that. Sabine was honest, that was clear of her character even when he first met her at Baratie. Mother-like in a sense, clearly conscious of others and her surroundings. Precious. Easy to break- something he’d never allow to happen. 

“Alright. I’ll go ask for a cot, how about that?” That pleased her greatly that she didn’t come off like a desperate woman doing this to bed him. Though she couldn’t blame anyone for trying, even her own thoughts betrayed her as she’d graze along his pale skin and corded muscle, a chest and abdomen so thick and defined it didn’t matter it was covered by a shirt. And without his long coat on she could see his powerful thighs straining against the material, making her wonder just how much of his life was dedicated to the art of his sword. 

“You will take the bed, I will take the cot.” Mihawk added sternly, though she saw through that as nothing more than banter. She smiled, nodding before skipping out the room. He was moments away from telling her not to leave his sight, but he shut his mouth and let her run her little errand. 

As nightfall fell over the city on Angelica Island, Sabine methodically locked every window making sure to stuff spare linens so no draft could sneak its way in. A habit she’d had for years. A distrust for people perhaps, or surroundings, or that she’d spent years shivering in her bed as a girl. And the Monastery was nothing if not a wretched old place with a frigid draft that had Sabine always on the lookout for extra blankets. 

Mihawk watched her with fond curiosity, teasing words dancing on his tongue that he wouldn’t yet speak. Her movements were frantic, though it was clear she didn’t see the behavior as worrisome. She kept checking the locks and he itched to tell her to sit, to relax. But this moment gave him the perfect chance to learn more about her, to study her and put it to memory. 

“You’re not cold are you?” She asked him, huffing from the amount of times she’d paced the room. 

“I’m not.” He thought carefully, “It’s late, you should rest.”

She nodded, “Mhmm, yeah. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“I can tell.”

“You see, besides my weeklong job here last year, I hadn’t slept in a room by myself in years. I’ve always had roommates at the Monastery and on the ship I room with Nami. With others in the room I have to force my brain to sleep so as to not bug the other person. Alone, it’s unsettling, I don’t like it.” She said quickly, tripping over her words as she tried to explain. 

Mihawk stood from the lounge chair, “You- sit on the bed. You’re making me anxious watching you flit around.”

Sabine shivered under his commanding gaze as he sat on her bed, patting the spot beside him. She pushed her messy hair back behind her ears and as she sat she smoothed down her nightgown, suddenly very aware how thin the material was. Suddenly filled with shame to be wearing such a thing around him as an unmarried woman, self consciousness making her stomach twist tight. 

His large fingers comb thoughtfully through her hair, carefully feeling the way each strange felt between his fingers. The softness of her brown locks, a faint smell of soapy lilac wafting from it. 

Dutifully he began to part her long hair into three sections, basking in the way her skin would erupt in goosebumps as he ghosted along it as he worked. 

Taken aback she quickly asked, “You can braid hair?” 

“It’s not difficult. And now you won’t have a bird's nest come morning.” 

“Should I be offended by that?” She teased, loving the way his fingers felt as they stroked along her nape and braided the strands. 

“No. Now tell me why you obsessively check locks, shove cloth into cracks, then check again and again.” 

“Why?” Heart amiss as it pounded in her chest, she felt dumb asking why but her mind was slowly turning to much as his fingers worked. She’d never thought a man would braid her hair, nonetheless a warlord of the sea. 

“I want to know everything about you. What makes you tick. Anything or anyone who’s caused you damage whether emotional or physical. What colors do you prefer? Do you prefer sweet or salty food?”

“Will you tell me all the things there is to know about you too?”

“Yes. Anything I ask I would be willing to answer in return. Do you have a hair tie?”

“Nightstand. And you don’t seem very open... In general.”

“I am not.” He leaned to grasp the black band, carefully looping it around the end of the braid leaving about two inches.

“Why did you become a pirate?” She shifted upon his completion, instinctively feeling her head and hair. Facing him now she was as pink as the evening sky while he was an impenetrable wall as he watched her. 

“What do you consider a pirate to be? In your own words.”

“I dunno, someone who travels by ship that is against the world government, steals and murders I guess? A pirate seems to be someone who wants the One Piece at this point, Gold Roger really changed everything.”

Mihawk hummed, thinking over her words, “I don’t particularly care for the antics of it all, I especially do not care to terrorize islands of people to rule over like some. I care about my pride of being the world’s greatest swordsman, besting foes as I please, and one day hopefully meet the one who will surpass me. My occupation as a warlord helps keep the marines out of my way, they’re a nuisance at best.”

“You’re a lone wolf.” She tried to tease again but a sudden yawn came over her as sleep began to drag her down. 

“I don’t talk about my past or my reasoning for most decisions with anyone, but I wanted to return the favor as you allowed me to read your notebook.”

“I hope it wasn’t too intimate?”

“No, it allowed me insight into you, I hope I’ve done the same. Now have you finished your nighttime routine or is there more to do?”

“Yes, it’s done.” Her chest swelled even as her eyelids grew heavy. 

“Then lay down, I will stay up until you fall asleep.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me questions?” Sabine inquired as he helped her get underneath the covers. A tingling sense of safety washed over her from how delicately he treated her. Like a precious treasure the way he tucked her in, hand smoothing the wrinkles of the blanket over her form. 

“Not tonight. Sleep, tomorrow we’ll speak with the marines.”

“Alright, fun.”

Her words soon slurred together as she attempted to chat his ear off about unintelligible nonsense he simply hummed responses to. She was nervous, he could practically feel the way her pulse hitched as he got close, or how her pupils would dilate. The extra time between responses as she was overthinking her own words. 

He glanced around, only the dim light of the lamp beside him illuminating the room, she’d insisted he leave it on. There were no words to describe Sabine’s beauty in his eyes. In the month since he’d seen her he’d recount her face in his memory, but being able to see each detail, was like seeing her for the first time again. And she was still stealing his heart like she had the moment he eyed her from across the bar. 

Mihawk settled onto the cot that night, careful to be silent so as not to wake Sabine. He’d be damned if he were to ruin her first night of peaceful sleep now that she felt safe. Safe. She wanted his presence. She could have called back Luffy and co, but wanted him. The fact of it quenched the fire within him that wanted to claim her as his own, knowing that while he was still very much a stranger, he gave her solitude. 

-

posted: july 18 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 let me know if you wanna be added !

[chenziee]

Of Pumpkin Pies and Whipped Cream

Another of my @opdilfzine fics! You can find this one in the digital add-on :D You can still grab a digital copy of the zine, aftersales are open until the end of August! <3

[ Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi ]

—————

It wasn’t often that Dracule Mihawk’s transponder snail would ring but when it did… It was a sure sign of a headache coming. 

He wasn’t sure why he should even bother answering when he knew there would only be pointless chatter to be heard but even so, he somehow always found his hand gripping the receiver anyway.

“What is it now, Red Hair?” he sighed instead of a proper greeting.

“Oh, come on, I don’t even get a hello?” the man on the other side of the connection whined.

“No.”

The snail gasped dramatically in response to the curt reply, making Mihawk roll his eyes. And to think this was one of the most powerful people in the world. Ridiculous.

“You’re so mean to me.” Red Hair let out a long-suffering sigh but Mihawk could just hear the shit eating grin that was playing on the man’s lips even without looking at his snail. “How do I even deal with you? I should get paid for still keeping you company.”

Mihawk knew he shouldn’t have picked up.

“I’m hanging up,” he said bluntly, already reaching over to place the receiver back on the snail.

Immediately, the transponder snail’s face twisted with panic, mirroring Red Hair’s expression as the man started fumbling for words. “Wait! I’m sorry! Don’t hang up, please!” he cried, his voice begging.

Despite himself, Mihawk felt the corners of his lips twitching upwards the tiniest bit. It was strange; the man was loud, annoying, and bothersome, interrupting Mihawk’s peaceful and quiet days with a disturbing regularity and yet, Mihawk could never bring himself to tell him to leave him alone. 

If he were to be honest… he’d have to admit that he would even sometimes miss his loud laughter, his stupid grins, and his idiotic stories and even more idiotic ideas. Even the ones that led to Mihawk having to literally drag the man to the Red Force after he would drunkenly whine and cry about how he was so proud of Straw Hat Luffy for hours and forcing Mihawk to throw him at Beckmann. After all, any captain was the first mate’s problem.

Or that one time when Mihawk had to break into a Navy prison to get Shanks out of there after he got arrested for eating without paying—he still had no idea how the marines in that town hadn’t recognised the Emperor.

For some reason, he missed all of that sometimes.

He would never accept Shanks’ lack of appreciation for good wine though.

“What did you call for anyway?” Mihawk sighed finally, leaning back into his chair.

“Just missed your sweet and kind voice,” Red Hair replied cheekily. “How are the kids?”

Mihawk groaned. “Don’t talk about them as if they’re mine. They just ended up here.”

“But you let them stay!” Shanks argued and Mihawk could just imagine the man reaching over to poke his shoulder.

As if Mihawk had a choice in that matter. Coming home from the war just to find two brats squatting in his goddamned castle, uninvited, with no means of getting the hell off the island after apparently getting launched through the air half-way across the globe—how could he have just kicked them out?

Not to mention he had tried. He gave Roronoa a boat. He gave him directions. He even gave him some food.

All that effort, only for him to come right back after making a full circle around the dead forest.

He would really rather let the kid stay than have to lead him by the hand like a toddler all the way to the coast—or more likely, chaperone him all the way to the next island. He held no illusions about Roronoa’s ability to follow a log pose by now.

“So? How are they doing?” Red Hair prompted after a moment.

Finally, Mihawk let his head fall back, his eyes shutting momentarily as he took a deep breath. “They’re fine. Roronoa’s still got a ways to go but it’s funny watching him struggle. Perona’s at least helping with the fields if nothing else.”

“I still can’t believe the dreaded Hawk Eyes, the strongest swordsman, likes gardening,” Shanks said with a laugh. “You need to let me try eating some of your crops one of these days.”

Mihawk chose to ignore the wink the transponder snail gave him. “You can have one of the fifty pumpkin pies Perona made.”

There was a pause before the snail raised both its eyebrows, the scar across its left eye shifting. “Fifty,” Shanks repeated flatly.

“It was a rich crop.” Mihawk shrugged. “They’re actually decent.”

“Will you add whipped cream and feed them to me?” Shanks asked eagerly.

A beat passed.

“Gacha.”

—————

Mihawk wasn’t expecting to hear from Shanks again for weeks after hanging up on him. They didn’t talk often in the first place but, more than that, the Emperor of the Sea could be nothing short of a brat. It wouldn’t have been the first time for him to get all sulky, going so far as to refuse to even enter the same sea Mihawk was in. This would usually end with Beckmann or Roux unable to handle the whining any longer and just dialling Mihawk’s snail number themselves and forcing their captain to just talk to the reason he was upset.

So, when the man himself appeared on his doorstep late at night only a day later, bottle of wine in hand and a smirk on his lips, saying Mihawk was surprised would be an understatement.

“You said something about pumpkin pie and whipped cream?” he asked with a wink, tilting his head to the side as he gazed at Mihawk with a cheeky spark in his eyes.

Mihawk stared blankly at the man for a moment. What the hell was he saying? Or what was he even doing on Kuraigana Island—or even just in Paradise, for that matter?

“I said nothing about whipped cream,” he responded finally, voice perfectly flat.

“Might as well have.” Shanks just waved his hand dismissively before forcing his way through the door past Mihawk as if the castle belonged to him.

Mihawk didn’t even care anymore.

With a deep sigh, he closed the door and followed after the red haired menace. It was only mildly disturbing how well Shanks navigated the complicated hallways of the castle—the very same hallways that Roronoa still struggled with after a whole year of living there. Had he really visited this place enough times to flawlessly lead the way three floors up, all the way to the cosy little lounge next to Mihawk’s room, chattering away about stupid stuff the whole time?

Thinking back… maybe he had. 

Although he certainly hadn’t come invited, not even once.

“Shoes off the couch,” Mihawk ordered as soon as Shanks threw himself on the expensive piece of furniture as if it were a bed.

“Says the guy who puts his feet on the table wherever he’s invited,” Shanks grumbled—but still took his shoes off.

Mihawk huffed, putting a bottle of West Blue sake on the coffee table in front of Shanks before pouring himself some of the wine Red Hair had brought, then settled into his own chair. “So? That one is mine and I will not tolerate your disgusting, dirty boots on it.”

“Hypocrite,” Shanks said, sticking his tongue out at Mihawk.

The man only rolled his eyes; there was no point in even gracing that with a response. So, instead, he simply swirled the wine in his glass, then took his first sip as he relaxed and leaned back in his chair. If nothing else, he had to admit that Red Hair knew his alcohol; it was good wine. The colour was a beautiful red like garnet, its bouquet had fruity undertones, like cherry and raspberry. It had a smooth, rich flavour, lingering on the tongue for a moment but not overpowering—perfectly balanced.

“Are you just going to ignore me?” Shanks whined when Mihawk didn’t say anything.

“Why are you here anyway, Red Hair?” Mihawk asked instead of answering.

There was a moment of silence, silence that made Mihawk crack one of his eyes open to look at the man lounging on his couch like he belonged there. Mihawk clicked his tongue at the thought—the very notion was ridiculous. 

Instead of dwelling on it, Mihawk took in the expression Red Hair was making right then. He was looking back at Mihawk, a wide, seemingly goofy smile playing on his lips… yet his eyes were serious, as serious as they were whenever someone would threaten one of the Emperor’s friends. Mihawk wasn’t sure what it meant.

But then, Red Hair opened his mouth to finally reply, “I was summoned by the promise of being hand fed pumpkin pie by my darling Hawk Eyes.”

“Again, I said nothing about hand feeding you. Are you a toddler?” Mihawk sighed.

“Yes.” There wasn’t a single hint of hesitation in Red Hair’s voice and Mihawk had to bite his cheek to keep his lips from curling into a smile.

“Then go back to your ship, I’m not your nanny,” Mihawk replied, keeping his voice carefully measured.

At that, Shanks gasped dramatically… and Mihawk knew what he was going to say before he so much as opened his mouth to do so. “You’re so mean to me! Meanie!”

There it was.

“I’m going to cut off your other arm and leave you to bleed out.”

“Ouch,” Shanks said before he burst out laughing. “We were just coming from the East Blue so we were close anyway.”

Mihawk was quiet for a moment, simply regarding the man sprawled on his couch; he took in how relaxed he seemed, more relaxed than the world ever saw him. And yet, his gaze was heavy, the deep scar over his left eye standing out in the dim light the same way it did ten, twelve years ago when it was fresh; when Shanks was just a young man who was barely coming to power. When Mihawk barely knew him.

But now, he knew the Emperor. And he knew him well enough to know when he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

"Whatever, it's not like I care," Mihawk dismissed.

“You’re terrible,” Shanks whined. “You’re seriously going to force me to admit I missed my boyfriend? My strong and handsome and oh-so-caring boyfriend?” Boyfriend?

Biting back a snort, Mihawk raised an eyebrow. “I did not ask, much less force you to admit anything,” he deadpanned.

“You just won’t admit you missed me too, will you?” Shanks sighed.

“What a pointless question. If you already know the answer, why do you bother asking?” Mihawk asked in response.

“Let me dream, you ass,” Shanks grumbled, closing his eyes for a moment before a grin took over his face once more.

Mihawk watched impassively while Shanks put his feet on the ground and sat up slowly, giving Mihawk that annoying look of his; the look that balanced on the edge between deathly serious and playful, and that always preceded something getting broken—a plate at best, Shanks’ last existing arm at worst.

And when Shanks stood up, not taking his eyes off Mihawk only to bump into the coffee table… Mihawk could only hope nothing too expensive was going to fall victim to the Emperor and his stupid ideas. So, he simply raised an eyebrow while Shanks cursed quietly, shooting a quick glare at the offending piece of furniture before his eyes turned to his lover—or boyfriend, apparently—with new-found determination.

It took only a moment for Shanks to stand right in front of Mihawk’s chair, staring down at him while Mihawk blinked at him slowly, blankly, one leg thrown over the other as he took a deliberately slow sip of his wine. Waiting for Shanks to make a move, daring him to do anything he might regret.

Like pissing Mihawk off. Or—

Before Mihawk could even finish the thought, Shanks reached out with purpose, his fingers closing around the wine glass in Mihawk’s hand, pulling it away… and Mihawk let him. 

He watched in mild amusement as Shanks brought it to his own lips, taking a sip—one large enough to be considered a gulp and if it was in any other situation, Mihawk would have been offended by the disrespect paid to such good wine. As it was however, he could only smile the smallest bit at the sight of Red Hair licking his lips appreciatively.

“I have to say, I picked a really good one. And I don’t even drink wine,” he said with a small laugh.

“It’s certainly better than the swill you brought last time. Couldn’t have even been called wine,” Mihawk noted. “More like someone dumped a bag of sugar into grape juice. If the people who created that insult of a drink even knew what grapes were.”

“Oh, shut up,” Shank hissed, his face twisting in fake annoyance.

And Mihawk… couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled out of his chest at the sight.

Immediately, Shanks’ expression brightened, a victorious spark in his eyes as if he had just won a hard life-and-death battle and Mihawk rolled his eyes. He seriously could be such a child. Why did he deal with him at all?

He supposed it was one of those things that would never make sense… and Mihawk wasn’t sure he even wanted it to make sense.

He didn’t fight it when Shanks’ knee forced its way onto Mihawk’s chair, wedging itself in between Mihaw’s thigh and the armrest; the man himself leaned forward, towering over Mihawk and caging him in place. It was funny, how natural feeling his warmth against him felt—were it anyone else, Mihawk’s skin would be crawling but with this man, this absolute menace on the world and Mihawk’s life… he didn’t mind it at all.

Instead, he welcomed it. 

He welcomed the warmth. He welcomed the weight on his legs—he wasn’t even sure when he had uncrossed them to accommodate the man who had decided to crawl into his lap as if he were a cat. He even welcomed the way his hands automatically came to rest on the sides of Red Hair’s thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of his pants.

And he welcomed the lips now hovering so close to his own.

Mihawk huffed in amusement; he could only imagine how the world would react to seeing the mighty Emperor of the Sea like this—sitting in his lap, basically begging for his touch, his lips. Too bad he was the only one who would ever see him this way.

It only took a split second for their lips to connect, the kiss hungry and desperate, as if they were trying to make up for the almost three months of separation in that single touch. They moved against each other with practised ease, Shanks’ lips stretching into a smile against Mihawk’s mouth. Despite himself… the gesture made Mihawk want to smile as well.

He let his hands wander, sliding up and down the man’s thighs before moving up, slipping underneath his loose and wrinkled dress shirt until he touched bare skin.

Shanks shivered under his touch, but seemingly determined not to lose, he let his tongue run slowly over Mihawk’s mouth, his teeth scraping lightly over his bottom lip—teasing, without deepening the kiss. Not pulling away even the slightest bit, Shanks started shuffling then, searching blindly with his hand behind himself—until something shattered.

And once Shanks’ hand came to rest against his cheek, the fingers stroking his skin gently before sliding into his hair… Mihawk was reminded of the wine glass that was—had been—in Shanks’ hand, now most likely lying broken into pieces with red wine spilling all over his expensive white fur carpet.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Mihawk said flatly against Shanks’ lips.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Shanks muttered, his breath caressing Mihawk’s cheek while his fingers curled in Mihawk’s hair to scratch his scalp gently, sending shivers of pleasure down the swordsman’s spine.

Gulping heavily to keep his voice level, Mihawk repeated, “You’re cleaning that up.”

“Fine. Tomorrow. But now shut up,” Red Hair hissed before he moved forward once more—only to bite Mihawk’s bottom lip in retaliation.

As if he had any right to retaliate after ruining the fucking carpet.

Mihawk was going to make sure it was either spotless by the time the menace left, or paid for in equal value with whatever means.

But right now, with said menace licking and sucking on his neck, he couldn’t say he cared. Right now, he only cared about those lips, the fingers tangled in his hair, and the soft skin of Shanks’ sides that seemed to be burning under Mihawk’s touch… and Shank's sweet, almost delicate moans as he pulled himself closer to grind against him. 

Moans so quiet that Mihawk could barely make them out—meant for his ears only.

And he was going to make sure he got enough of all of them, enough of Shanks tonight to make up for all the time they had spent apart.

—————

Zoro’s morning started just like any other. He woke up at 7 AM, got dressed and brushed his teeth, then it was straight to his usual twenty minute run around the island. After getting back two hours later, it was time for a quick shower—he didn’t see the point when he knew he was just going get sweaty again later but Perona could get fucking unbearable otherwise. She’d end up complaining endlessly about his sweaty brow, and even being on the same island with someone so ‘smelly’ and ‘disgusting’. He would really rather take a pointless shower than deal with one minute of that so he begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom before he could finally head to the kitchen for breakfast.

He wasn’t surprised to find Perona already sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of pancakes and a steaming cup of tea in front of her, the stupid ugly bear of hers sitting securely on her lap. Hawk Eyes was exactly where Zoro had expected him—standing at the stove, making the pancakes that Perona was happily shoving into her mouth as if they were the best meal she had ever eaten.

Zoro had to wonder just what kind of food the woman used to eat while at Thriller Bark. Sure, Hawk Eyes was a decent cook but nowhere as good as Curly. Zoro wasn’t sure if that said more about Perona's culinary experiences or Curly… but Zoro would be damned if he so much as admitted he might have possibly maybe kind of missed the asshole’s cooking.

Whatever.

“Good morning.” Zoro yawned, grabbing a pancake off of Perona’s plate as he passed by.

“Hey! Get your own!” Perona yelled instead of returning the greeting.

Hawk Eyes sighed, flipping the fresh pancake he was making. “Grab your own plate or you’re not getting any, Roronoa.”

Shoving the rest of the stolen pancake into his mouth, Zoro rolled his eyes, passing by Hawk Eyes to get some water since he was still being unjustly forced to live without alcohol. Soon, he would earn his right to have a goddamned beer, though. He’s almost got it, he was going to turn his blades black for sure. Any day now.

“Any sake in that fridge?” came an unfamiliar voice from behind him.

Zoro frowned, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder to look at the man standing behind him—his red hair and that scar looked vaguely familiar but Zoro couldn’t for the life of him place that face. He was tall, his uncovered chest sported powerful, well defined muscles, his very presence making it obvious he was strong, much stronger than Zoro despite his missing left arm… but it wasn’t like that had ever stopped him.

“You talk about alcohol in front of me one more time and I’m going to cut you,” Zoro growled, full of annoyance as he slammed the fridge door shut.

“Scary,” the man laughed loudly before side stepping Zoro to get to the fridge.

Zoro simply rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn’t worth it getting mad over not being taken seriously. It was too damn early for that. So, instead, he walked away, taking a plate of Hawk Eyes’ pancakes before dropping into his designated chair opposite of Perona.

“So where are all the pumpkin pies I was promised?” the stranger asked then.

“Pantry,” Hawk Eyes replied absentmindedly while he poured hot water into a mug.

Perona’s eyes widened. “Are you giving out my pies for free?!” she asked, scandalised.

“Thank god. I’ve had enough pumpkin to last me till the next life,” Zoro muttered.

“Excuse me?!” Perona hissed, turning to glare at him instead.

Zoro simply ignored her, turning his attention back to his pancakes; they were sweet and he hated sweet things… but it was still worlds better than having to eat pumpkin pie for breakfast for the third time that week.

“Would you rather I throw them out, Ghost Girl?” Hawk Eyes asked flatly, making Perona puff up… before she deflated, begrudgingly admitting the man had a point.

The red haired man laughed loudly again. “So domestic. What a sweet little family.”

“Shut the hell up, Red Hair.” Hawk Eyes shot back, obviously not amused by the remark. 

“Sorry sorry,” the man apologised… yet his voice was still shaking with laughter when he walked off to drop into a chair next to Zoro at the table as if it were a normal Sunday.

It was only once Perona had to slap the man’s hand away from her plate that something seemed to click in her mind and she froze. She didn’t move at all for a long while, simply staring at the stranger who was trying to steal her breakfast exactly the same way Zoro had earlier… until her mouth fell open and she slammed her hands at the table as she shot up from her chair.

“Shanks?!” she screeched. “‘Red Hair’ Shanks?!”

The man blinked, obviously taken aback by the sudden development. “Uh yeah?” he tried uncertainly.

“Oh my god,” she said, her hands flying up to slap at her cheeks; maybe trying to get herself to wake up from a dream.

Zoro, on the other hand, tilted his head to the side as he looked at Perona, then the red haired man, then at Perona again. Shanks. Why did that sound familiar?

Wait.

“Shanks as in the Emperor?” he asked, voice full of disbelief even to his own ears.

At that, Shanks laughed. It was a full-blown, unrestrained laughter, one that reminded Zoro of his own captain. But Luffy wasn’t there; instead, one of the strongest, most powerful people in the world was sitting next to him, laughing so hard he could barely breathe while Zoro and Perona just sat there, staring at him like he was a mirage—or maybe a hallucination.

Maybe those stupid pumpkin pies had gone bad sooner than they had thought and now they were all suffering from food poisoning? That honestly seemed more plausible that an Emperor of the Sea sitting in their fucking kitchen.

“What is ‘Red Hair’ Shanks doing in our kitchen?! Why?! What’s going on?!” Perona rattled off, seemingly on the verge of hysterics.

“Stop screaming, Ghost Girl,” Hawk Eyes said with annoyance as he approached them. “This is my kitchen, be glad I didn’t kick you out. Here, your coffee,” he added, putting a steaming mug in front of the fucking Emperor of the Sea.

Or more like milk with a splash of coffee. Disgusting.

A soft smile spread on Shanks’ face at that. “Thanks, love,” he said, catching Mihawk’s wrist before he could walk away—

And Zoro and Perona could only watch with wide eyes as Shanks let go of Mihawk’s hand only to continue further up the man’s arm, moving gently over the thin fabric of his shirt until he touched bare skin. But Shanks didn’t stop there—he let his hand move higher still, his fingers sliding behind Mihawk’s neck and tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, closer… until their lips connected.

It was a chaste kiss, almost innocent—if not for the familiarity of it, and the unspoken intimacy that made even Zoro blush.

Zoro could swear it took a full hour before the two pulled away, Hawk Eyes clicking his tongue in annoyance even while the corner of his lips twitched upwards.

As he stared at the two of them, suddenly he started noticing more. There was a suspicious dark bruise on Hawk Eyes’ neck just below his ear. The angry red scratches on Shanks’ back that he had previously thought were barely healed scars now looked closer to claw marks. And was that an actual bite mark on the Emperor’s shoulder?

As if that wasn’t bad enough, his eyes then caught something white contrasting against Shanks’ red hair and he frowned, squinting slightly at the Emperor. Was that whipped cream behind his ear?

No. 

Nope. Absolutely not.

Zoro decided he didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to know about it. Didn’t want to see it. If he closed his eyes, if he just didn’t look…

It simply wasn’t happening.

But then, Perona’s distressed voice echoed around the kitchen again. “What the hell is going on?” she asked. When Zoro glanced at her, she looked like she was about to stab the two old men with her tea spoon just to get out of this situation.

Zoro couldn’t blame her.

“You see,” Red Hair started, “when two people love each other very much—”

“AHHHHHH! Negative Hollow!!” Perona screamed before Shanks could get another word in.

Zoro would be lying if he said watching the mighty, powerful Emperor of the Sea slump onto the table lifelessly, mumbling something about shrimps and plankton wasn’t satisfying—if completely surreal—but he didn’t even have the mind to appreciate it. He had learnt more about Hawk Eyes than he ever wanted to in the last two minutes and he wondered if there was a way to erase his memory.

As he robotically stood and left the kitchen without a word, heading for another ten minute run which would hopefully last a few hours—long enough to clear his head—he nostalgically thought back to the time when the worst of his problems was Nami threatening to double the interest on his loan if he dared to sleep through another snow storm.

Just one more year, he thought.

Just one more year and he could go on to pretend that had never seen 'Red Hair' Shanks in his life, ever, and certainty hadn't seen him half-naked, with a lazy just-fucked grin on his face in their fucking kitchen.

He could only hope there would never be a repeat of this morning—for the sake of his own sanity and limited ability to erase things from his memory.