#And that's how mihawk was forced to go after yoru

[giurochedadomani]

There was this beautiful art I saw at some point in the tag, or maybe in someone's artblog, idek. The thing is, it was about Shanks and Mihawk sleeping in a barn. And now I kind of really, really want to do something à la The Hangover with young!Mishanks in which Mihawk wakes up all cuddled up nice and comfortable next to Shanks after a night of heavy drinking and the awkwardness of getting up next to his crush, and oh no feelings (ugh) gets quickly swallowed up when he cannot. find his sword.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine finding Mihawk after an argument with Shanks…

Mihawk huffed. He listened to what brought you to his company and he truly wished he was at the bottom of the Grand Line.

“You cannot be my shadow each time you have a disagreement with your red-haired fool.” He deadpanned and took a sip of his wine. “I’ve seen enough of your lovers spats to know how this turns out.”

You tapped the bar to signal for another round of mind-numbing rum, eyeing the amber liquid as it was dispensed like a hawk.

“This time it’s different. I’m not going back.” You muttered.

Mihawk rolled his eyes. It was always the same story. You and Shanks would argue. You’d storm off and find Mihawk to drink and dull the pain with ample ranting. Then one of two things would happen, either Shanks sought you out or you would sail back to what ever island he was passed out on.

But as Mihawk learned very quickly - this time it was different.

Two days passed and you were still at his side, nursing yet another hangover much to Mihawk’s chagrin. He had finally grew tired of your threats to throw up aboard his ship so he docked and waited for Shanks to show. But he didn't come for you.

Fours days in and no attempts of reconciliation resulted in you shadowing Mihawk in anything he did. It irked him to no end but the Warlord couldn't find it in himself to chase you off.

When the World Government called upon Mihawk’s services to ‘take care of’ a rapidly growing pirate armada on Day Seven, you offered to join the mission.

“Absolutely not.” Mihawk refused almost immediately. He wasn’t going to risk your life and then carry your body back to Shanks.

He didn’t offer funeral services.

The pirate began to walk away noticing the way you trailed after him. “Hey - I’m damn good with a sword,” when he said nothing, you jumped in front to force the pirate to a stop. “I can do this.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes. “And what happens if you can’t?”

You stepped back, a broken expression settling on your features that made Mihawk feel something akin to guilty.

“You’re just like him.” You whispered. “I prove myself time and time again and you both refuse to see it.”

“That’s not what I- you are very capable Y/n. I only meant...”

Your name was suddenly called out from a distance. Heads turning to the shore, you saw a small boat and a shadowy figure hurrying in your direction. At first you thought it was Shanks but when the hair lacked his vibrant red, your heart returned to its dark hole.

It was Yasopp. The marksman bending forward and huffing to recollect his breath when he reached you and Mihawk.

“Great. More people.” Mihawk mumbled under his breath.

Ignoring the comment, you addressed the pirate. “Yasopp? What are you doing here?”

“It’s Shanks.” The man panted. “He’s miserable and what’s worse is that he’s even more reckless.”

You frowned. “Did he send you to get me?”

Yasopp finally straightened up but there was no excitement to answering your question. “Beckmann did when he heard that the Captain wanted to take on the Marine Base at Coral Cove. You're the only one who can convince him otherwise.”

Your eyes widened. Shanks being reckless was a dangerous thing and Coral Cove was no joking matter. You had heard of awful things that happened to pirates who set foot on its shore.

If Shanks was trying to get your attention, it was working.

You stepped forward to follow Yasopp back to the Red Force when the blade of Yoru swiped before you, holding you back.

Looking up at Mihawk, you saw him glaring at your friend with his golden eyes.

“Y/n isn’t going anywhere. That one-armed fool can come here himself if he’s that desperate.” He said.

You touched the hilt of the sword with the intention to push it down but there was more luck in moving a mountain.

“Mihawk, Shanks is…”

“He is playing a game to have you run back to his side. And as much as I want to be rid of you, I will not let you forsake your dignity.” Mihawk replied without shifting his focus. “You can tell your Captain that Y/n will not leave my side until he shows his face. We will be on the Wave Coast sinking an armada.”

You hadn’t expected Mihawk to have such fierce support but you appreciated it. Looking at the pirate who was waiting, you sent him a nod and Yasopp caught the drift returning to his ship to relay the news.

Mihawk finally exhaled and turned to you. “Let’s go.”

Following him to his ship, you watched as he climbed in. You had never walked into a huge battle without the Red-Haired pirates at your side so it was new and daunting.

“Any advice?” You asked the Warlord, stepping aboard.

Mihawk took a seat and stared at the open sea. “Don’t die.”

He'd keep you safe during the fight. Then once the conflict was over, he was going to pay Shanks a visit.

The idiot would lose a leg if he didn't apologise and whisk you away by sundown.

~ More imagines here ~

[goddessofmischief]

can i request anything mihawk related and him pining after y/n

       —   I CAN SEE YOU (YOUNG 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.

He'd been thinking about you a lot lately.

You, the pretty girl who sailed with the Roger Pirates and made port in the same towns he did from time to time. You, who seemed to always be flanked by the boy with the red nose and the other boy with the red hair.

You. You. You.

You were clever - he noticed that at once - you had to be, to hold your own with so many men stronger and older than you, and he watched as you navigated through one dangerous situation after another, always escaping unscathed. The other boys tried to help, of course, but you didn't need them at all. Mihawk noticed that, too.

He liked the sort of clothes you wore - usually a bit oversized, which made sense, so you didn't have to buy new ones every time you grew, an unfortunate practicality for anyone growing up at sea - and often velvet, or satin, or with embroidered patterns, and usually in dark shades of olive, maroon or black. Sometimes cotton dresses of the palest ivory, which he also liked.

Mihawk had made a habit of always noticing the appearance of others, and judged them quite harshly on it - not their looks or dimensions or things they could not change, but how well they presented themselves. Living the way he did, the way you did, did not lend itself to luxury or composure or cleanliness, so he noticed whenever anyone paid special attention to how they looked.

You did. He never caught you without loosely wound curls, brushed out, or loose buns, or intricate braids that he sometimes heard the red-haired pirate protesting at doing for you. Mihawk noticed all of these things because they were things he liked about himself, and he liked them about you, too.

But even after all this liking and appreciating, which had gone on for many months now, he could never have the strength to talk to you. It wasn't for his own insecurity, although Mihawk was a good deal less boastful and more shy than most of the pirates his age, but more for fear of what he might say when he actually spoke to you for the first time. He had never struck out with girls before, but that was mostly for lack of trying. They found him, most of the time, and either liked his Hawk-Eyes or they didn't.

It was on one of those days, where Mihawk had made port at a small island and was sipping on a flute of wine at a small bar, that he found himself gazing at you again. You'd just stumbled off Roger's ship, and seemed in awe of your surroundings. Your friends already held drinks far too big for them and had wandered off, staring at the skyline, but you were clearly unsure of what to get. Mihawk watched as your fingernail dragged against a small menu, tracing every option, hesitating around the ones with dried flowers in them. You liked dried flowers, evidently, and he would remember that.

The thought crossed his mind that he might go get a drink for you, and perhaps begin some sort of conversation-

No. No. Stupid.

You could get your own drink.

And you were about to, it seemed, when a rather terrifying-looking mercenary pressed a blade to your back. Mihawk immediately reached for his own, which he had fondly nicknamed 'Yoru,' and had not yet seen much action.

"How'd you find me?" you said, voice trembling.

"Followed you," said the mercenary. "You owe us. We know you only gave us half of what you found when you raided that vault."

"That's not true," you said, and Mihawk felt you were telling the truth, although he may have been biased. "It just wasn't as much as you thought it would be-"

The mercenary forced his blade closer, and Mihawk decided he couldn't allow this to go on for one more second. Moving quietly, he removed Yoru from his scabbard, and drew the blade against the mercenary's neck.

"Move aside," said Mihawk, trying to make his voice more steady than it felt.

The mercenary stared him down.

"Who are you?"

"Dracule Mihawk," he said. "And I'd like you to step away."

"I refuse."

What happened next was completely uncalled for and also fated. Mihawk simply moved the sword very quickly to the side, and the mercenary fell, and that was the end of it.

It was not the first blood Dracule Mihawk had ever spilled. It was, however, the first blood he had spilled with this particular sword.

This sword, which would live on in infamy long after he was gone, this sword, which would become synonymous with not only his name, but swordsmanship itself.

First blood, this sword, and it had all been over you.

History would forget.

...But you would remember.

[alexa-fika]

You know how child!Dokusha often ends up in places she shouldn't be? I think that most of the characters would be understanding of the childs curiosity, while others would scold them for not sitting put.

For example child! Dokusha as mihawks child would get scolded by their father alot for it but he understands that children will be children and be curious. Also the more you tell kids to not do something the more they do it

I feel like shanks would be A father that also let's his crew be fathers. Personally I love the idea that lucky roo is a amazing babysitter, I don't know why

Eat water drink food Alexa 👍

Sneaky sneak ft Mihawk and Lucky Roo

A/N Alright the title is kinda weak but I have nothing, also this is pretty weak especially the part with too so i’m sorry holo 🥲 I am late and lack in

Reader here is replaced with Dokucha for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers

Dokucha grinned, realizing the room they had sneaked into was the armory. Their eyes shined in excitement as they examined all the weapons in the room, hopping, crawling, and sneaking around the glittering artifacts until a specific one called their attention.

Grinning, they climbed down from the small ledge they had climbed to take a peek at a bow; they approached the familiar weapon, lips slightly parted in awe as they stood in front of the sword.

"No way…" they muttered gingerly touching the handle of the sword as thoughts raced through their mind.

"It's so beautiful…the best quality leather in the market wrapped on the handle with a lapis lazuli encrusted on the pummel," they muttered, eyeing the large jewel and rubbing the leather, shivering at the supple, slightly grainy texture.

"A half-a-meter gold hand-carved guard with jade and tanzanite on the quillon and the Ricasso," they gushed, eyes twinkling in amazement as their hand lowered to the body of the sword

"A black blade; it could have been his haki, but maybe it was forged like this, put in heat time after time to get such a beautiful obsidian color, and they even added hand-carving to its fuller."

"And it's-

"Not yours to he touching." A stern voice cut in, taking a firm but gentle hold of their hand as it began inching toward the edge of the blade

"Ah! Dad! What are you doing here? " they yelled, their eyes wide as they jumped back from the man, arms now crossed on his chest as he stared them down.

"That is hardly the question here, isn't it?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow, watching as the child began to fidget and look away from the man, trying to put their sight on anything but him.

"I just ended up here; I was going to leave….but then I saw you, and I got a lil distracted."

Mihawk stared at the child, his frown softening until he let out a chuckle. A rare amused smile grew on his face, though he was quick to erase it.

"You know you are not supposed to be here, " he chided, shaking his head as he took hold of his sword. His amusement grew as the move instantly caught the attention of the child.

"However, I will forgive it this time since I see you have been keeping up with your readings," he called, glancing at them; he noticed this caused their attention to switch to him, placing Yoru in its rightful place behind him.

"How about I teach you some hands-on lessons on the art of the swords?" He suggested turning around and making his way out of the room

"Yes!" They hollered, scrambling to follow after the man

"Oi, have you found them yet?!" Hongo called, his voice echoing across the deck, and various negative responses echoed back, much to his annoyance.

"Commander Hongo, do you think they might have followed Shanks out of the ship?" A crewmember questioned, scratching his neck as he looked around the deck for the child

"No, they're a rascal, but they know the consequences won't be light if they leave the Force without permission; they know better," Hongo huffed out.

"This would be so much easier if Yassop were here; he's the only one that can bypass their presence masking," he muttered, calling out to the crewmates to continue their search as he joined them.

"Ha! That's right! Without Uncle Yassop here, they have no chance!" They snickered from below them as they hid on the gun's deck, browsing through the different weapons that were kept alongside the canons

"Oh! They keep the grenades here! Sweet!" They cheered, grabbing the small sphere with a mischievous grin on their faces, until a hand grabbed it from their hands, causing them to shoot up.

"U-Uncle Roo!" they gaped, watching the grinning back as he put the grenade back where they had found it.

"Ha! Ha! That's true, but you still have to find a good hiding spot if you don't want the rest of us to find you," he called teasingly

"You're not supposed to be here," he stated, letting out a small laugh as they just looked away.

"You can't sneak here every time he leaves; you know we are going to find you."

"…are you goin' To tell Dad?"

"Hm, I could! But I could also cut you a deal," he snickered, taking a bite from the usual chicken leg on his hand.

"Deal?"

"You finish your chores, and I won't tell him."

"Ugh!"

I thought I was cookin

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[acescorazon]

Changes

Chapter: 16

Title: Retribution

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Violence (but not really), Dialogue heavy :3

Word Count: 2879

Chapter Excerpt:

“Or are you perhaps still upset at Crocodile and I?” 

Buggy doesn’t know what’s the most shocking thing about this revelation, the fact that Mihawk wanted to console Buggy or the fact that he’s actively paying attention and actually seems to care how Buggy is feeling. His head is spinning right now. Mihawk moves his hand back quickly, almost as if he’s been burned, “I don’t know how to make my feelings seem genuine,” He states, and another moment goes by before he quietly asks:  “Do you want to take your grievances out on me?” What? Buggy instantly thinks as he stares at Mihawk, more confused than ever. “I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you in the past, so it would only be fair if you get some sort of retribution, right?” 

What? 

Mihawk gets up from his seat and fetches his giant blade from the corner of the room before presenting it to Buggy, “Take Yoru and do what you please to me or feel free to use any weapon of your choice if you don’t want to use Yoru.” He says, “I won’t stop you.” What the hell is this? How did they even get to this point so quickly? Buggy’s feels a wave of unease wash over him as he feels Yoru rest heavily against his lap and then watches Mihawk take a step back and spread his arms out.

“Whenever you’re ready, Buggy.”

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|Ch5|Ch6|Ch7|Ch8|Ch9|Ch10|Ch11|Ch12||Ch13||Ch14||Ch15||

Buggy stops writing and looks up from his paper. He furrows his brow in confusion, “Oh? I thought you wanted to work on bettering your relationship with Crocodile and I.” He asks, curious. The thought of having a dinner with both Mihawk and Crocodile still isn’t an appealing one, but he thought for sure that Mihawk would try and invite Crocodile to dinner with them again. 

Mihawk rubs the back of his neck, “I do, but…” He trails off, “I assume he’d reject my invitation anyways, so why bother asking him?” Well, that’s a pretty good point. Even if Crocodile has apologized and expressed he wanted them all to get along, knowing him, he’ll only put the bare minimum into repairing their relationship, which is fine with Buggy.  

“How about it?” Mihawk asks. 

God, Buggy doesn’t want to have another dinner with Mihawk. He wants to have dinner with his friends where things are lively and fun, not all uptight and extremely awkward. Still, Buggy finds it difficult to reject Mihawk’s offer when he appears to be putting in the effort to fix their relationship, feeling like if he says no then it’ll cause unwanted stress and drama. “Yeah, sure.” He mutters, relenting despite wanting to reject Mihawk’s offer. 

….

After finishing their shopping list and sending some men out to sea to retrieve the supplies they’ll be needing, Buggy once again finds himself in Mihawk’s personalityless tent, sitting on his couch while eating an equally drab meal. There’s a weird tension in the room, and part of Buggy doesn’t know why he agreed to have a meal with Mihawk again in the first place. Maybe this is good for him, though. There’s a brief silence amongst them, but it doesn’t stretch for nearly as long as Buggy expects it to. For the most part, Mihawk seems to be putting effort into making conversation tonight. They talk about their upcoming trip to Prickly Pear Island as well as how training has been going with Mihawk and Buggy’s crew.

Everything is going fine and dandy until Mihawk brings up one man in particular. 

“Did you hear that Red hair is going after the one piece?” Mihawk ask as he takes a sip of his wine. Ugh, yeah… Yeah, Buggy did.

Buggy chews slowly on his food. Suddenly, his meal taste bitter and leaves a foul taste in his mouth, but he forces himself to swallow it down before he reaches for his glass of water. “Of course I did…” He mutters as he tries to keep his expression somewhat neutral or at least uncaring. 

“What are your thoughts on that?”

What are Buggy’s thoughts? Buggy can’t even begin to sort all the thoughts he has swimming around in his head right now, let alone put them into words. He guesses the closest word to describe how he’s feeling would be bitterness, but not even that sums up the true depth of his emotions. “I don’t give a shit what that idiot does,” Buggy manages to say, but his lie doesn’t sound too convincing. “He probably won’t even find the One Piece anyways.” 

Mihawk watches Buggy for a moment before he hums, “I suppose you’re right. The chances of him or anyone else actually finding the One Piece after all this time are probably slim.” Yeah, that’s what Buggy thinks too… Or rather hopes. “Roger never told you two where it was, did he?” 

Buggy shakes his head, “Nah, but I don’t think we ever wanted to know anyways. We didn’t want to know what it was or where it was, we always wanted to go on a grand adventure and find it for ourselves, you know?” 

“Together, right?” Mihawk asks softly.  

Buggy tries to stop a bitter smile from spreading across his face but fails. “Yeah, together.” He confirms. “I always thought he was supposed to take after Roger. I thought that he should be king of the pirates and that we would go after the one piece together, but…” He chuckles softly, “Shit happens, I guess. I don’t care.”

“Except you do care.” Mihawk replies, calling Buggy out on his lies. Oh, there Hawkeye goes again, reading Buggy like a book. Perhaps Buggy isn’t as good of an actor as he thought he was. 

Buggy laughs, “You kidding me? I don’t care,” He insists, “Let that idiot do whatever the hell he wants. I have my own problems I need to worry about. I have to be Cross Guild’s flashy leader, don’t I? Why would I care what one dumbass is doing?”

Mihawk leans back against the couch and looks up at the ceiling, “You know, Red Haired Shanks might be a close friend of mine, but… I know how he can be.” He sighs before pausing again, “I know how it feels when he just disappears for months and years on end and doesn’t even send you a message to let you know he’s alive or see how you’re doing. I also know how it feels when he shows up out of the blue one day and acts like he hasn’t been gone a single day. Or how it feels when he makes promises that you both know he won’t fulfill.”

At least Shanks is consistent, Buggy thinks bitterly as he debates whether or not he should ask for a glass of wine now that the two are talking in depth about Shanks. 

“He’s a good man and an excellent fighter,” Mihawk adds softly, “But there are times when his carefree lifestyle can leave others feeling disappointed and like they’re unimportant, almost like an afterthought. So, I get how you’re feeling right now, I really do.” He reaches out and puts his hand on Buggy’s thigh, squeezing it lightly. 

Buggy startles slightly from the touch. “Are you…” He blinks, confused again, “Are you trying to console me?” He accidentally blurts as soon as the thought pops up in his head. That can’t be, right? Mihawk can’t possibly think that Buggy is feeling down because Shanks is going after the one piece without him and is now actually trying to make him feel better. Why would Dracule Mihawk try to console anyone? He’s not that type of man. 

Mihawk seems equally as confused now, “Isn’t… Isn’t it obvious?” He asks. His hand is still on Buggy’s thigh, and he doesn’t make any effort to move it, “You’re feeling down, aren’t you? You… you kept looking at that newspaper with Shanks’ face on it during today’s meeting, and you haven’t been talking a lot lately…” he locks eyes with Buggy, “I thought you heard the news about Shanks and felt betrayed and might want to talk about it, so…” he trails off, “Was I wrong?”

 

“Um…”

“Or are you perhaps still upset at Crocodile and I?” 

Buggy doesn’t know what’s the most shocking thing about this revelation, the fact that Mihawk wanted to console Buggy or the fact that he’s actively paying attention and actually seems to care how Buggy is feeling. His head is spinning right now. Mihawk moves his hand back quickly, almost as if he’s been burned, “I don’t know how to make my feelings seem genuine,” He states, and another moment goes by before he quietly asks:  “Do you want to take your grievances out on me?” What? Buggy instantly thinks as he stares at Mihawk, more confused than ever. “I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you in the past, so it would only be fair if you get some sort of retribution, right?” 

What? 

Mihawk gets up from his seat and fetches his giant blade from the corner of the room before presenting it to Buggy, “Take Yoru and do what you please to me or feel free to use any weapon of your choice if you don’t want to use Yoru.” He says, “I won’t stop you.” What the hell is this? How did they even get to this point so quickly? Buggy’s feels a wave of unease wash over him as he feels Yoru rest heavily against his lap and then watches Mihawk take a step back and spread his arms out.

“Whenever you’re ready, Buggy.”  

Buggy doesn’t even know what to make of this situation. Here’s one of the men who has hurt him the most, standing before him and telling him to unleash his fury on him. It’s Buggy’s chance to finally get a little bit of revenge. He could beat Mihawk up to a pulp, he could slice him to pieces, he could leave him for dead, that way he’ll never get to take his anger out on Buggy again. 

Buggy stands up from the couch slowly and holds Yoru in his hands. This thing is heavier than shit. He thinks as he glances over at Mihawk, who’s looking back at him with an unreadable expression. “Do you regret it…?” He asks, his voice a little shaky, “Do you honestly, truly regret treating me like shit?” 

Mihawk simply nods in response. “I do. I don’t think I can apologize enough for my heinous behavior, which is why I think you should hurt me like I hurt you. I won’t fight back or seek revenge in the future. You have my word.” 

“You do know you’ve hurt me with more than just your fists, right?”

“I do. Feel free to insult me while you get your revenge.”

Buggy had no idea that the world’s strongest swordsmen was such a masochist. Buggy can really do or say whatever he wants to Mihawk and there won’t be any repercussions at all?! He thinks back to all the times that this man, this cruel man has put him down and made him hurt and cry. Mihawk probably won’t cry or even flinch while Buggy is beating the shit out of him, though, but at least Buggy will be getting some form of revenge.

Buggy swallows down a wad of spit, “You do know that you’re an idiot for doing this, right, Hawkeye?” He asks, feeling a little bold now that Mihawk has given his word that he won’t stop Buggy from enacting his revenge on him. “You do realize I could kill you, right?” he asks, “Do you realize how much hatred and hurt, and rage I have stored up inside of me after all the shit you and Crocodile have put me through?! I could kill you. I could slit your throat right now.” 

“If that’s what it takes to get forgiveness, then I’m okay with dying.”

He was so quick to respond. Buggy truly hates this man and his bravery. Mihawk is yet another person who doesn’t fear his own death, and it pisses Buggy off. He’s everything that Buggy isn’t. 

Buggy hates him. He wants him to suffer, or better yet, to just die. Buggy will still have to deal with Crocodile if he kills Mihawk and he’s sure that Crocodile will be furious about Mihawk’s death, but who cares? This is finally Buggy’s chance at revenge. Hell, maybe after he kills Mihawk, he’ll have enough adrenaline flowing through his veins to actually be able to take on Crocodile and finally be free of these two.

Yeah, that sounds just perfect, actually... 

Buggy takes another step forward, Mihawk doesn’t move. He looks down at the sword in his hand, it far too heavy for his liking, but he does think it would be ironic if Mihawk died from his own blade, and even more ironic that Buggy would be the one using it to strike him down. Buggy’s heart is soaring right now as he stands in front of Mihawk. He feels stronger than he’s felt in weeks, granted he knows it’s all an illusion that Mihawk is allowing him to have, but it still feels damn good. He feels like he’s on top of the world, knowing that he can slice Mihawk in half or plunge his own sword into his belly right now. 

“You’re too hesitant. Don’t think, just do it.” Mihawk orders, his voice flat. 

Buggy chuckles. Yeah, maybe he has been stalling a little without even really noticing it. He tries to shut off his mind and his feelings before he raises Yoru up in the air. He quickly brings it down as those same painful memories flood his mind for the umpteenth time, but he stops short of Mihawk’s shoulder when he realizes Mihawk really isn’t going to stop him.

“Why are you doing this?” Buggy asks, desperately searching for answers, “What do you think this could possibly achieve? Are you just fucking with me? You know I can’t do something like this.” 

Mihawk stares down at Buggy, still completely unbothered, “This is no joke. I want forgiveness and if this is the only way to receive it, so be it.” He replies, remaining stubborn and fearless. Buggy drops Yoru to the side, and shoves Mihawk roughly, but the other man doesn’t budge. 

“Why are you acting like you’ve suddenly changed?” Buggy asks as he shoves Mihawk again, this time a little harder, “Why are you acting like you actually give a shit about how I feel? Why are you acting like a man of honor now?!” Mihawk doesn’t reply, and it only pisses Buggy off more. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do! What’s the point in all this bullshit?!” He yells. 

Mihawk remains silent yet again. 

“Why won’t you answer me?!” Buggy asks, and in the heat of the moment he slaps Mihawk. It doesn’t feel as good as it should. After everything Buggy’s been through, slapping Mihawk should feel amazing, but there’s nothing gratifying about it at all. If anything, hitting Mihawk makes Buggy feel…bad. 

Mihawk doesn’t even flinch when Buggy slaps him, he stays perfectly motionless and stares down at Buggy, waiting for his next move. Buggy swears he’s never met someone as enraging as Hawkeye before. “Why are you doing this?”  He repeats, “Why are you acting like you desperately want my forgiveness after all this time? There’s no way you actually care if I forgive you or not. So, why are you doing this bullshit, Hawkeye?” 

Mihawk looks away, “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you my reasoning behind all this.” he mutters, “Just let your frustrations out on me.” What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Buggy absolutely hates how cryptic Mihawk has been recently. “No, I want to know why you had a sudden change in heart,” He replies, shoving Mihawk again - still no budge.

“Because I’m remorseful.”   

“Bullshit. What’s the real reason?” 

“Because I’m remorseful.” Mihawk repeats. 

Mihawk’s words loop over and over in Buggy’s head. Because I’m remorseful, because I’m remorseful. Somehow those words just make Buggy even more upset, even more confused. “Come on, Hawkeye. Stop bullshitting me. We both know you hate my guts and love seeing me suffering, there’s no need to play these stupid games with me.”

“For the love of God, Buggy!” Mihawk exclaims, “Can’t you see that I don’t hate you? Can’t you see that I’m doing all this because I want you to forgive me? I want to move on, I–.” He trails off, unable to finish his sentence, “I was wrong. I was wrong in so many ways about you, and I was wrong for hurting you.” He takes a step forward this time and puts both of his hands on Buggy’s shoulders, Buggy tenses but doesn’t move away. “Can’t you see I’m being genuine? I wouldn’t stoop as low as to play mind games with you…” He pauses again and then takes a deep breath, “Buggy, I’m doing this because I regret my actions and I want to move on. I’m doing this because I want to better our relationship and…because… I think I’m starting to develop feelings for you, as crazy as that seems.”

Buggy feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He stares at Mihawk for a good minute, trying to figure out what the hell he just said to him amidst all this chaos. ‘I think i’m starting to develop feelings for you…’ Buggy opens and closes his mouth, unsure how he’s even supposed to react to such an announcement. It’s like a cold bucket of water has just been dropped on his head. He’s unsure if he should still be angry or if he should be in disbelief. Is he supposed to be flattered?

“I’m serious, Buggy. I have absolutely nothing to gain from lying to you.” 

Oh, god. Buggy quickly puts some distance between them as he feels a weird, unexplainable concoction of emotions stirring within him. Oh, god. What the hell is going on? He thinks as he frantically searches Mihawk’s face for any sighs of deception but finds none. Oh, god. He’s serious, he’s actually serious. Oh, God. Buggy puts a finger up, “I have to go because you’re freaking me out, man.” Buggy blurts. “You have to be the most confusing man i have ever met in my life. What do you mean you think you’re developing feelings for me?!” He asks.

“I-” “Oh, god. Don’t say anymore.” Buggy says, cutting Mihawk off before he rushes out of his tent and into the night, panicking from Mihawk’s all too confusing confession.  

A/N: Because only Mihawk would think he needs to be stabbed to be forgiven and then be like oh by the way i think i'm starting to like you.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

With a kiss we will paint a flawless view (part 2)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. This is part two of two. NSFW!!

This fic is dedicated to @madbadpadawan. 

This fic is part of the Beast in Black series, and the sequel of Come close and whisper my true name.

*****

Tomorrow dawns and Mihawk has disappeared.

You wake up nine hours later, after one of the only nights of interrupted sleep you have been blessed with in the last six months; pleasantly rested, you reach towards the other half of the bed, searching for your lover’s firm and warm body… and you don’t find it. The room is empty save for you, you realise as you open your eyes and slowly, awkwardly sit up on the bed, and no sound that could betray Mihawk’s presence in your study or in the bathroom can be heard. 

A look at the clock on your bedside table makes you realise how late it is; Mihawk, who occasionally treats himself to a morning spent lounging in bed with you, must have raised to make you rest as long as you could. He has probably eaten breakfast already, you think as you stand from the bed, distinctly ungraceful as usual, but after you’ve spoken to your mother regarding a request you have received from the city’s prefect and written a few important letters, you can reach him in the gardens to keep him company as he trains with Yoru, and discuss the matter you have avoided for two months…

You’ve almost reached the bathroom’s door when you notice the folded piece of paper on the chest of drawers, with your name written on it in a calligraphy you would know anywhere. You take the note, open it, and your good mood evaporates.

Beloved (name),

You look so beautiful sleeping in my arms, leaving your bed is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Forgive me, but I have to leave for a few days for a very important matter; I promise I’ll be back soon, before our baby comes, and you will understand everything. 

Please take care of you both. I love you more than I can express in words.

Yours forever,

Mihawk.

The tenderness in those words is intense enough to move you, but the content of the brief message hits you like a metaphorical punch in the belly.

He has left. You can’t believe it… he said he’d remain for the rest of your pregnancy, to make up for the time he had spent away and because he wanted to make sure you’d be alright, well look after, and now this. Where in the world - where the fuck has he gone, and why?!

Your heart is spinning, so much that you have to quickly return to the bed and sit; you know stress could harm your baby, so you force yourself to breathe, slowly and deeply as the doctor has taught you, as you re-read the content of the piece of paper in your shaking hands. A very important matter, he wrote, without explaining further. Is this a Warlord mission? He has been challenged to a duel by another swordsman? Has he returned to Kuraigana to take care of some personal business? Whatever the case you would have supported him, encouraged him to go wherever he needed to; the last thing you want is to keep him chained to you or to stop him from pursuing his interests. Why didn’t he tell you? Didn’t he trust you? Or he simply thought there was no reason for you to know?

You will understand everything, he also wrote, which does comforts you a little in the following days, since apparently Mihawk does intend to tell you where he went in time, but only partially; he means to stay away for a few days, and you know that nothing will ever stop your lover from returning to you, not even the whole Marines army or the end of the world, but sometimes accidents happen, and even the strongest swordsman in the world can get hurt, or sick, unable to ask for help. What if the Marines have recruited your lover for another mission, and find a way to keep him away for longer than he expected? What if something happens to your baby, and Mihawk has no chance to meet them before they…?

You’re now eight months pregnant; still early technically, but many children are born a month in advance, and while you don’t technically need Mihawk to give birth, since your mother has sent for the best midwives of the kingdom and will be there as well, to keep you company, the mere idea of having to go through it without your lover’s solid presence only a door away scares you. You know how excited he is to become a father, and that he has done his utmost to comfort and support you in the last two months; not to have him there feels wrong in some indescribable but persistent way: if your little family is not together at the beginning, who knows what could happen in the future…?

You’ve never felt so alone in your life and, worst of all, you can’t even find comfort in the person who has always been there for you. Your mother is the only person in all the island to know where Mihawk has gone, and why; she admits that on that morning, after leaving your bedroom while you were still fast asleep, your lover spoke to her, a brief but important conversation whose content she has sworn not to reveal to you. “You’re going to know soon enough.” she tells you, deaf to your protestations; while her expression remains serious, her eyes are sparkling with a joy you dearly wish you could share, rather than being tormented by grief and fear “You have no reason to worry, my love; your man is fine, and will return soon enough. Everything will be clear.”

Everything will be clear; you will understand everything. Why do the people around you insist on keeping the truth from you? Don’t they see that, rather than reassuring, their words only serve to frustrate and worry you, in the moment of your life in which you need it the least?!

You know you are overreacting, that you have every reason to trust both Mihawk and your mother, the two people in the world who love you the most, and that it costs you nothing to be patient and wait for them to explain what they are plotting, but you can’t help it; naturally rational and clear-headed as you have always been, ever since you’ve become aware of your pregnancy you feel completely prey of your emotions, afraid of every little thing, unable to find joy in an experience many describe as the happiest of their lives. 

You’ve always been able to take care of yourself; you’ve risked your life countless times, and you’ve always emerged victorious, even when the people trying to make away with you were the worst scum of the sea and outlaws with the blood of dozens of victims on their hands. While aware of the danger, you’ve never trembled; now, on the other hand, you have to force yourself to take a brief walk in the gardens, fearing a few minutes of strolling could harm your baby. You feel fat, and old, and unattractive; no wonder Mihawk decided to leave, you find yourself thinking sometimes, and while you know he would never betray you, you couldn’t fully blame him if he found himself looking at other, younger and fitter, women…

“It’s going to be alright.” you murmur to your child, holding your belly and wishing they were already here, safe and sound in your arms as you try to reassure them like you wish someone were doing with you “Your father will be here soon; he promised, and he never breaks his word. Wait until he’s here before you come out, alright? I know I can do it on my own, but… I don’t want to.”

And in the end Mihawk does come back, as he had promised he would. Today you have awoken alone in your bed for the fourth time; it’s the middle of the afternoon, and sitting on a bench in the gardens you try to focus on the letter you’re writing, the paper placed on a thick book resting on the top of your belly. It is quite an important missive, the answer to a loan request you received from the lord of a nearby island, but you can’t focus, your head hurts and you feel dead tired even if you had just woken up from a three hour nap.  

A sigh escapes your lips, and you’re wondering whether you’re up to finish this little task or you’d better return inside and go back to bed, when suddenly you feel it… you feel him.

He has returned. He hasn’t called your name, nor did you hear the sound of his footsteps; you have simply perceived his presence, like he could perceive yours if your places had been exchanged, not unlike the two opposite poles of a magnet; you naturally react to each other, a shiver on the back of your head that warns you not of an oncoming danger but of the presence of your lover.

And that shiver you feel it now, and a moment later the book with your half-finished letter on it falls to the ground as you grab the backrest of the bench to stand, turn, and finally see him. 

Mihawk is standing maybe three steps from you; he is still, apparently content with just looking at you, but smiles when he sees you turn to face him. “(name).” he murmurs as he moves to approach “My love, are you…?”

“Where the hell have you been?!”

Your lover stops, clearly taken aback; he has seen you upset, angry or worried many times since you first became acquainted, but you have never raised your voice, screaming at him as if he had committed some grave crime. “(name), darling, I…”

“Don’t darling me, Mihawk! Do you have any idea what the last few days have been for me?” you ask when you are finally face to face; you are still screaming, long enough for the residents of the fortress to hear, but you don’t care; you’re beside yourself, relief and irritation fighting inside you, and while you never seriously thought Mihawk had abandoned you, you want him to understand that you needed him by your side, or at least to explain fully the reason for his absence rather than simply leaving a note “I had no idea where you were, and when you would come back! My mother would not tell me anything! Do you realise your child could be born any day? What place in the world could you desire to be at rather than here? You had said you would be by my side, and one day I wake up and you’re not there! Do you realise how it made me feel? Knowing that you could be gone with no explanation the day I simply sleep a little longer?”

You sob, not daring to meet your lover’s eyes. “I’m pregnant, Mihawk.” you add; he obviously knows very well, if only because you’re twenty-five pounds heavier than normal, but you want him to understand that the presence of your child has not only affected your body, but your mind as well “And I know it’s a perfectly natural process and I have received the best care, but I am scared. Terrified. Scared of what could happen to me, and to lose our baby, to discover they are not healthy, or to lose you. I don’t want to sound like a brat, and I know you’ve already reassured me a thousand times… but I’m not at my most rational right now. And now I feel horrible because I’m screaming at you and you don’t deserve it, and…”

And then you start to cry.

Which is terrifying, because you know if there is something Mihawk cannot stand are shows of weakness, and even though your relationship is way too deep and close for his opinion of you to change because of a tantrum, you wish your stoic, cold-blooded lover could respect you as an equal as well as love you. 

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean…” you stammer, and a moment later Mihawk’s hands are resting on your shoulders.

“Don’t; I’m the one who should apologise.” he murmurs softly, his beautiful yellow eyes full of pain “May I?”

You rush to nod, and a moment later you are held in your lover’s comforting embrace, his arms closed around your shoulders as he kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry.” you murmur again, leaning against his chest; you’ve never been so tired, so much that you could fall asleep standing “It was unfair to accuse you; you’ve always been present and attentive to both me and the baby, and I know you will keep to be.”

“Of course I will; I have told you nothing will ever take me away from you, and I intend to keep my promise.” Mihawk points out gently “I… must have underestimated the effect my absence would have; I thought you’d be fine, since it was only for a few days and it’s still a month before the baby comes…”

“I am fine; nothing bad happened, but to wake up and not find you there has been a very unpleasant surprise. I don’t want to keep you chained to me, or on the island; I know you have your life and your duties, and you’re free to pursue them. Just… warn me the next time, alright? For my peace of mind.”

Mihawk promises he will; he’s more handsome than ever, the cut of his black coat emphasising the width of his shoulders, his short hair tousled by the wind, and you smile when he kisses you, not on the forehead this time. “So am I forgiven?”

“You are; and I’ll try to keep the tantrums to a minimum from now on. Are you alright? Did you… do what you had to?”

Your lover nods in response, suddenly tense. “I did. And… it’s something that does concern you. Can we talk for a moment?”

You lead him to the bench, where you and your lover sit (with a bit of an effort on your part) hand in hand; you wait for Mihawk to speak, and in the end he does, not exactly hesitating but oddly careful as he chooses his words.

“I didn’t leave for a Warlord business or any other matter related to piracy; I… I went home, to the house I was born in and lived until I was seven.” he explains “I don’t think I ever told you, but my father threw me and my older sister out of the house; the two of us were left with almost nothing, even though years later Yoru bought the house back from him, and she lived there until… until she passed.”

You nod mutely, only partially surprised; in the many years of your relationship your lover has rarely discussed his childhood and family with you, but you do know how close he and his sister were and, in turn, how much he despised his father. 

“As I said, my father didn’t even grant us an income to live by; as far he was concerned, we could starve to death in the streets, but Yoru did inherit a few things from our mother, things that were legally hers even though our father did try to claim them for himself, to gift the woman he married as soon as he had gotten rid of us.”

The more you hear about the old lord Dracule the less you like him; no wonder your lover doesn’t like to talk about his past, even now that he knows there is no secret he can’t share with you.

“Yoru feared she would have to sell those valuables to support us, but fortunately it was never necessary; her things were still at our old home, where no one has ever been since… since she died. Including me.” 

You take his hands in yours. “She is buried there, is she not?” you ask in a murmur; your lover nods, and he doesn’t tell you how it was, how it felt to see his beloved sister’s grave for the first time in years, to be reminded, as if he needed to, of the fact she might have been alive if he had been there to protect her - a guilt your lover has borne in his heart since he was barely an adult, and that he will never allow anyone to release him from.

“She is. Her rose garden has grown, the vines and the flowers almost completely covering her headstone. I think she would have liked it.”

You remain silent, still completely in the dark regarding the reason for your lover’s sudden absence but confident you’ll know soon; perhaps, you think, he returned to his family’s home to take some memento to gift to your child, some old toy or family keepsake he wants his heir to inherit.

You’re only partially correct. 

“Anyway, I went there to look for something, and I did find it.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes.” Mihawk tells you “Please.”

You do, more and more confused, and from the sound that reaches your ears you realise he has moved - stood, perhaps, and of course Mihawk is not the sort of person who would simply depart leaving you there, but you really don’t understand why…

“Open.”

You do, and everything becomes clear.

His having returned to his family home, to retrieve something that had belonged to his mother and sister - two women, like you.

His having spoken to your mother -since your father has passed- before leaving. 

Mihawk is not standing; he is kneeling, in front of you, a tiny velvet box in his raised hands. 

“Lady (full name), wi…”

“Yes!” you exclaim, and then slap a hand on your mouth, blushing furiously. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not.” you stammer, unable to believe your own blunder; this is one of the most important conversations of your life, and you interrupted your lover as he proposed! “I… please, say what you have to, I shouldn’t have, I… I am just so happy…”

Mihawk grins; you can almost physically see tension abandon his body as he is assured of your answer. “(Name).” he starts again; no title, no second names you’ve never used, simply (name), because that is what you’ve always been to him, not a noblewoman, not the future ruler of a wealthy fief, but a woman, a friend, a partner, someone he has come to trust and respect and love, and who he wants to share his future with. He smiles, or at least you think he does, because tears have filled your eyes and your exceptional eyesight is for once failing you… “Body and soul, heart and sword, I am yours and I swear I will be forever. Having you as the mother of my child fills my life with joy; but having you as my wife would make me the happiest man on land and sea. (name), will you marry me?”

You accept.

A moment later you’re embracing, holding each other for a long moment, simply enjoying the feeling of each other’s body in your arms - a feeling of belonging, of pure and perfect syntony between two people who have chosen each other, and who know love is only one of the many things that bind them: trust, loyalty, respect - that is what you feel for Mihawk, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. In the end, your lover finally slips the ring -the ring of his mother, the ring of his sister; you’re the third woman to wear it, and you love him at least as much as the two who came before you did- on your finger; it’s beautiful, a golden band with an elegant oval stone that, Mihawk says, is the same colour as your eyes.

“It fits you perfectly; I knew it.” he murmurs as he kisses your fingers; you have never seen him smile like that “I hope you understand this means I’ll have to move here permanently; married couples do live together after all.”

“Well, I’ll have to put up with it…”

“On second thought, I can always go back to Kuraigana and keep our baby for half the time…”

“Don’t you dare.” you murmur, locking your arms behind his neck “You’re mine now; and I’ll never let you go. Is that alright, lord consort?”

Mihawk assures you that he can work with that, and then he’s kissing you, your first kiss as an engaged couple, which makes it even sweeter and more special than all the ones that preceded it. Blissfully happy, you’re about to tell your lover -your fiancé- how happy his decision to come live with you makes you, but you don’t have the time. Mihawk suddenly breaks the kiss to look at you. “Are you… alright?”

“Of course; never been better.” you answer, somewhat surprised “Why?”

“I think you… had a little accident…”

Your gaze follows his downward, to the small leakage falling between your feet from under your skirt; you blush furiously, unable to believe it had to happen now, that you’ll forever remember this day as the one you got engaged in and then immediately peed on yourself, but this is not a simple accident due to pressure of the baby on your bladder, this is something else…

“Mihawk?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you to go call the doctor and tell him to get ready.” you tell him calmly - too calmly, perhaps “It seems your child will celebrate our engagement with us.”

No woman in your family has ever died in childbirth; it was your mother who told you, no doubt in the hope that the thought of being part of such a positive streak would reassure you, and it did… even though you also couldn’t help thinking that a series of successes does have to end sooner or later, it’s a simple matter of probability, and perhaps you are doomed to be the one who fails where all your ancestors have succeeded.

“It’s too early. It can’t happen now… it’s still too early!” you keep saying as Mihawk’s strong arms carry you to your bedroom, as if it changed anything, as if pointing out the untimeliness of their arrival could convince your baby to go back to your womb and remain there for a month more “I can’t do it, I can’t…”

Nobody answers; nobody even pays attention to your words, too focused as they are on the needs of your body. Your mother, who rushed to your side as soon as she was informed of the impending birth of her grandchild, moves away the duvet, making space for Mihawk to gently depose you on the bed, while the doctor places the heavy bag with his tools on the bedside table. It’s only the two of them; your mother had arranged for two other physicians, specialised on childbirth and with extensive experience in delivering healthy babies, to come take care of you, as well as several experienced midwives, but given the fact your child has decided to be born a month earlier than expected, none of them is here at the fortress - or on the island, only a call away. You do trust your doctor, who has taken care of your and your mother’s health for many years, but having only him and his assistants, both younger than you, attending you fills your heart with dread.

“Help the lady (name) with her dress.” the doctor orders, but as the two assistants move to approach, Mihawk stops them with a peremptory gesture of his hand.

“I’m scared.” you murmur; that is not something you admit easily, especially with your lover, whose level-headedness in times of danger you always admired and envied, but this is a moment you’ve never experienced before, and you’re terrified, for your baby and for yourself as well “Mihawk, I can’t do it, I’m sorry…”

“But you have to.” your lover gently points out as he takes your face in his hands “You know it, the delivery of a baby is not something you can’t stop or postpone. Clearly our child is as impatient to meet us as we are to meet them.”

The thought does make you smile - only for a moment; you grasp his hands in yours, feeling like a castaway who clings to a rock in the middle of a stormy sea. “If I were to die…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Not saying it won’t make it less likely. If I were to die, please take care of our baby; it’s not their fault, but sometimes… parents resent them… I know you’re not that sort of man, but I don’t want our child to pay the price for what we have done…”

“Mihawk.” your mother intervenes softly before your lover has time to answer, resting a hand on his back “You need to go now. There’s nothing else you can do for her.”

As he faces your mother’s quiet determination, even your lover, who is not afraid to argue with the Marines’ commanding officers and has faced the most dangerous pirates of the Four Seas without trembling, seems unable to argue. “Take care of her.”

“Of course; I’ve done it since she was born.” your mother points out gently, and your lover nods in thanks before turning to you once more to kiss your forehead.

“I love you.” he tells you “I know how strong you are; please, darling, for our baby.”

Your heart breaks as you see the door of your room close behind him. Your mother, busy thoroughly washing her hands and arms in a basin, returns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it gently. “Well then, let’s deliver this baby.” she then says briskly “If it’s going to be the same as when I delivered you, we’ll hear them crying in ten minutes.”

You don’t know how long you’ve been here; it feels like days, but the sun has barely begun setting out of the window, which means your delivery has been going on for a few hours at most - the most painful and terrifying of your life. 

You do not hear them crying in ten minutes.

You’re bathed in sweat, your underskirt (the only item of clothing you are wearing at the moment apart from your bra; your mother has offered to help you put a nightgown on, to preserve your modesty, but you were already too in pain to care) soaked in blood and who knows what other bodily fluids as you scream, in pain and fear and frustration, feeling your own cramps-stricken body revolting against you.

At first it seemed like your baby had changed their mind, preferring not to be born after announcing their arrival a month in advance; you have been asked to stand, walk around the room and then return to bed twice already, and while your contractions are closer and closer, nothing has happened. 

Your child is breech, you have heard the doctor whisper to your mother, and then something else that has made the usually calm and self-possessed woman go white in the face, something that has to do with the umbilical cord…

Oh, Gods, you understand after a moment; your baby could end up strangled if you force them to pass through your canal. You order yourself not to push, which is easier said than done, given the fact your body is screaming in pain, begging for permission to release the foreign body that is causing it so much torment. 

You can’t remember the last time you ate; your mother has given you some water to drink with a straw, which helped placate the dryness in your mouth, but you feel weaker by the minute - too weak, perhaps, to help your child, too weak to fight the blood loss that has filled the room with an unpleasant metallic stench.

“Is Mihawk still there?” you ask, your voice reduced to a whisper. You’ve screamed so long, and so loud, your throat hurts, and your mother nods; you have seen her smile when she saw the ring on your finger, but you didn’t have the time to talk about it. You’ll later learn that Mihawk didn’t exactly ask for her permission to propose to you; given how much he respects your strength and independence, the last thing he wanted was to treat you as an object whose ownership your mother would formally hand over him, regardless of your opinion; well aware of how close the two of you are, and that having her oppose your union would have pained you enormously, he simply asked for her blessing, that your mother was happy to grant, knowing equally well how much your lover cares about you. 

You’re engaged. Your child is being born. The most perfect happiness is so close you can almost touch it, but still out of your reach; you don’t want to lose all of it, you’ve never wanted something so avidly and intensely in your life, but you have the distinct feeling that the matter is not fully in your hands, and no matter how much you fight and try to resist, things are about to get very ugly soon…

“He is; he’s walking up and down the corridor like a lion in his cage.” your mother answers in a brave attempt at levity “He has asked me to tell you he can come in, if it pleases you.”

I know how strong you are; please, darling, for our baby.

“No. This is something I have to do by myself; and I don’t want him to see me like this.”

Your mother seems ready to argue, probably to point out the baby is Mihawk’s as well as yours and your lover will not blame you for wanting him close in such a difficult moment, but soon after you’re screaming again, blood pouring out of your body. You know it’s impossible, but you could swear you can feel your childcry in pain, and it’s the most horrifying, heart-breaking sensation you’ve ever experienced. 

It hurts so much, mother. Why are you doing this to me? It’s not my fault, I didn’t ask to be born; why are you making me suffer? Will you not help me?

You do want to help them, you wish you could tell your baby as the doctor and his assistants try desperately to free them of the noose around their neck; there’s nothing you wish more, even if it meant sacrificing your life; you just don’t know how, and maybe you’re not strong enough to fight for them…

You look at your mother, paler than you’ve ever seen her, who holds your hand; simply turning in her direction makes your head spin. “I’m not feeling very…” 

You faint. 

“Hello.”

The man smiles at you, a smile you’re pretty sure you recognise even though you don’t know from where, as he sees you approach, walking unsurely in the void that surrounds you. 

“Where are we? What place is this?” you ask, without returning the greeting - quite unkind of you, probably, but you’ve never been so confused in your life. 

Rather than walking, you feel yourself floating, unable to see a path or a floor under your feet. All around you shadows shift, sinuous and impalpable like the silk veils of a dancer; diaphanous as they are, you still can’t see through them, nor around nor above or under you. They surround you, gently advancing or backing away to make space as you move; you perceive no threat, no danger, as if you were surrounded by waves as you swam into open water, but when one of them brushes against your arm you feel yourself shivering. Cold, your mind supplies vaguely; grey; sick, the sensation too different from anything you’ve ever experienced to compare. 

The man waits until you have reached him before answering; he’s still smiling, even though melancholy fills his eyes. He’s younger than you, dressed as a pirate, a Log Pose on his wrist. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I am not.” you quickly answer, instinctively feeling the need to prove yourself to this stranger “I just want to know where I am, so that I can return home.”

“I’m afraid that might be easier said than done. Do you know what happened to you?”

You struggle to answer, trying to think back to the last thing you remember. “Well… I was giving birth… but there was something wrong with my baby’s position, I felt so weak and I had lost a lot of blood…”

And then the truth hits you. “Oh… I died, didn’t I?” you ask, lowering your gaze to your stomach; you can’t see your body very well, at once not naked and not covered by any specific item of clothing, but your belly feels empty, void - a surprisingly unpleasant sensation. “But my baby is not here, which means…”

“Your baby is alright; for now. And you’re not dead, (name); look here.”

Before you can ask the man how he knows your name (have you met? You’re almost sure you know him, even though you’ve never seen him) his pointed finger draws your gaze towards a structure in front of you, that you had somehow failed to notice until now: it’s a stone arch, perhaps thrice as tall as you and equally wide, deceptively innocuous in its natural immobility, the stone’s surface covered by glyphs. You soon perceive a pull towards it, invisible hands pushing you towards it and the unknown opening at the other side, but you dig in your heels, already aware of its real significance.

“This is the threshold.” the man explains, confirming your fears “To what, there are a thousand names to describe it: afterlife, heaven, hell… you can call it however you like. It’s the place where people go after they die, and since you’re not fully dead, but on the brink between this life and the other, you can see it even though you haven’t passed it.”

“But you did?”

“I did; many years ago. But when I felt you were approaching, I decided to come meet you.”

You’re talking to a dead person, while half-dead yourself; it’s without a doubt the weirdest experience of your life, but at the same time you can’t tarry on it, too focused as you are on the problem at hand.

“If I haven’t passed the threshold… does it mean that I can go back, live?” you inquire, and your interlocutor nods, serious as he regards you. 

“You can.” he concedes “But you need to be aware of what your choice involves. If you let go now, you’ll die, but your baby will live; with the matter of your survival out of the way, the doctor will be able to save them. But if you go back… I can’t tell what is going to happen; they might survive, they might not, and the same can happen to you.”

“I see…”

Silence falls as you consider your options; you can only ensure your child’s survival if you let yourself die now; if you persist, there’s no knowing what is going to happen.

“If I die and they survive… what will become of the baby?” you ask in a whisper, and the man looks at you kindly. His kindness, this is what you remember the most, as well as his smile; this is how you recognise him.

“They will be fine. Your lover will never forget you, and never love again, but the presence of the child in his life will comfort him, and your baby will one day become the ruler of your island, and a great fighter. You’ll be proud of them, (name).”

Mihawk. You hadn’t forgotten about your lover, you never could, but hearing the man mention him brings tears to your eyes. You don’t want to lose him; even if you’re already been together for years you still have so many more in front of you, years you want to spend by his side, as you raise your child together and enjoy the beauty and intimacy of your love. Lines like I can’t live without you and If I lose him my life isn’t worth living belong to romance novels, not real life, but you need him, you need to be with him, because Mihawk is yours and you are his, and perhaps you are not owed a future together, but you’re determined to fight the Gods themselves to earn it.

Unfortunately, your decision doesn’t concern only you and Mihawk. Could you sacrifice your life to save your baby? You certainly can; you’ve wanted this child for so many years, and you know they’ll be looked after. The mere prospect of not seeing them grow, and never seeing Mihawk again, breaks your heart; but you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t put your baby’s well-being before yours, regardless of your chances to conceive again. 

This is what you need to do; you could decide on the spur of the moment or reflect on it for a whole day, you’d know the best thing to do anyway. On the other hand…

I know how strong you are.

He knows, because you are; or at least you can be, if something important is at stake.

Please, darling, for our baby.

Mihawk has asked you to look after your child, and you want the same, now and for every day you have left to live: you will protect them, you decide, ensuring they are born safe and sound and then protecting them from any danger they may meet. Up to now you’ve allowed your fears to control you, the painful memories of the loss of your firstborn and the dread of having to fight a battle in which none of your weapons (including your beloved derringer, as usual hidden behind your pillow) could help you survive; but now you have to be strong, for yourself and for your family. You know that people don’t decide to die on the birthing bed, nor is the matter fully in their hands, and you can be the most headstrong and determined woman who ever lived, that still wouldn’t exempt you from the risk…

“I’ll go back.” you announce, and the shadows around you seem to draw back for a moment “I don’t want to put my baby in danger, but… I can’t abandon them, or Mihawk; I’ll survive for their sake as well as my own.”

Your interlocutor doesn’t seem surprised by your decision; he simply smiles, and moves to keep facing you as you take a step back, away from him, away from the threshold, and then another, at first struggling against the pull and then more and more easily. 

“Thank you.” you murmur; you wish you had more time, but having met him, and that he decided to come talk to you when you needed him the most, counts more than you could express in words “I miss you so much, every day; I wish you were there with me, especially today.”

“I’m always with you, (name); always, even though you can’t see me.” he reassures you; his smile has turned sad as you both prepare to say good-bye, but there is pride in his eyes “Give your mother my love. Farewell, my darling!”

“Good-bye, father!”

Another step back and the shadows no longer envelop you; there is a light behind you, a tiny but persistent spot of brightness towards which you start to run, all too aware the time at your disposal is running out. 

“She’s awake!”

The cry is your mother’s, still by your side as you gasp for air as if you were resurfacing after an immersion of several minutes; you meet her eyes, full of tears for what she expected to be the last minutes of your life, and you can’t blame her for it: you’ve never felt so weak, blood-loss and exhaustion having depleted your strength, but you still manage to smile.

“My love, w…”

“I’ve seen father.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen him, mother; he felt I needed help and he came to see me.” you explain, and your mother, who should perhaps think pain and fear have made you delirious or that you were simply dreaming, smiles “He sends his love.”

“Of course he does. (name); I…”

“I’m dying, aren’t I?”

She doesn’t answer; she doesn’t need to, because the stench of blood -your blood, the blood you have lost- fills the room, and while you can still feel your baby move inside you, struggling to breathe despite the noose around their neck, you can also perceive your own body is about to give in, admitting defeat in the face of prostration and pain.

It’s not too late yet though; at least, you’re not ready to accept it is.

The moon has risen out of the window of your room, not full but almost, a bright crescent in a clear but almost starless sky; as you turn to regard it, everything becomes clear.

“Mother, will you please open the window? I don’t want to smash through it.”

“My lady, don’t.” the doctor warns you as your mother is already moving; your blood covers his arms up to his elbows “It’s folly.”

“It’s the only way.”

“Shifting will not solve anything; your cub will still have the cord around their neck, and at that point you’ll be alone, no one will help you. Please, let us try to…”

But you don’t. You know what you’re feeling is natural: many of your kind feel the urge to shift in moments of danger, instinctively hoping to fight their way out of whatever problem or threat they are facing, but it rarely helps, and it surely wouldn’t help in your situation. What you need is the help of trained physicians, with their tools and medicines…

The window is wide open, the cool night breeze coming in. Your mother stares at you, her eyes full of love, fear, and trust. “Go, my love.” she says “Do what you have to.”

You do.

If you thought standing while weighted down by your pregnant belly was hard, that was nothing compared to this; you grab the headpost and heave yourself from the bed, crying in pain as your entire body protests at the effort, and then the shift envelops you, an only partial relief since the wolf can, after all, suffer as much as a human can, but that you nonetheless welcome. You wait to be steady on your four paws, your tail proudly raised as the fur covers your entire body, before dashing towards the window that you jump over, soon leaving the fortress behind you. 

You can feel your baby, your cub, in your belly, struggling to breathe, fighting to live; you run blindly, crossing the torch-lit empty courtyard as you lift your head to the moon and howl, a piercing, pained but fierce sound that fills the still air of the night. 

No day in this life has ever been as long as this. Mihawk has waited for hours, pacing back and forth in the corridor, unable to ignore his lover’s desperate cries of pain, which got weaker and weaker as she did. One of the doctor’s assistants, who had momentarily left the room to retrieve some tools, told him that the baby (his baby, their baby) was breech and it might be impossible to make them shift in a more favourable position, which in turn would put both them and (name)’s survival at risk. 

His mother died in childbirth. Mihawk doesn’t know exactly what happened, because the matter was too painful for Yoru to discuss, and he has never exactly considered himself guilty of her death, but what if history is repeating itself? His mother first, and then his lover, not considering his sister; are all the women in his life destined to die, either because of him or because he is not there to protect them? Perhaps the baby is a girl as well…

Mihawk sighs, covering his face with his hands as he forces himself to remain lucid. His lover and baby are not going to die simply because his mother and sister have, and while there’s nothing he can do to help, he needs to be strong for both (name) and the child; he knows it’s not unusual for a delivery to last hours, and she is strong and healthy, and well-assisted. Everything is going to be alright…

And then he hears (name) howling. 

He stands quickly and walks to the closest window, out of which he can see a wolf running; despite the darkness, despite the distance, he’d know her anywhere, just like he recognized her call. (name) has turned, but why? Giving birth in human form is surely easier, and he doubts wolf midwives exist…

“You should go.”

The lady Veressa is standing on the door of (name)’s room, both her hands and dress splashed with blood. “You should go after her.” she clarifies “If there’s someone she needs, it’s you.”

“But there’s nothing I can do.” Mihawk points out; he feels helpless, maybe for the first time since that terrible day when he lost Yoru, and it’s destroying him “I can’t help her.”

His lover’s mother looks at him, exhausted but suddenly stern, her head tilted to the side; she has never looked more like (name). “Can’t you?”

Mihawk stares at her; a moment later he has followed his lover’s example in opening the window and jumping over it. He runs like he has never run in his life, plunging in the night’s darkness as his lover’s howling guides him forward. 

Mate, he thinks; he’s still human, but he’s already gotten used to thinking of her like that, at least in the privacy of his heart. Wait for me, mate; I am coming.

He expected (name) to run towards the gardens, since that is a spot she is used to frequent when she feels upset or melancholic, and wolves naturally prefer natural places to man-built constructions, but she didn’t; when Mihawk finally reaches her, his mate has hidden in the small constructions site on the outskirts of the fortress’ borders, where the stables have been recently demolished to make space for a larger building. It’s a highly unsafe place for a pregnant woman, but small, enclosed and dark as it is, it’s probably the closest thing to a den his lover has found, in which to find some safety.

Mihawk lingers out of the building to take care of his clothes and then shifts, fortunately without any hassle; (name) told him he has learned to control the turning quicker than any other adult she has ever met, a compliment Mihaw was secretly flattered by. A year after he and his lover drank each other’s blood, the sensation of his bones changing shape and fur growing all over his body is still peculiar but not painful, and as Mihawk raises his head to look at his moon, his partially colour blind eyes reverently filled with its beauty, he feels alive, and strong, and scared.

He whines softly as he advances into the partially demolished building, his eyes easily adapting to the lack of light, and (name) answers in kind, her voice filled with anguish. She is nestled against the corner of the room, lying on her side to relieve pressure from her belly, as she yelps in shock and pain; she licks Mihawk’s face when he approaches, and gladly lets him do the same to her, but she’s in pain, scared for what she fears is going to happen.

It hurts, mate, she confesses, our cub is leaving. Maybe I am leaving too. I don’t know what to do.

Mihawk lies next to her; when (name)’s rests her head on his back, he can feel her trembling. You will not leave. Nor will our cub, he gently reassures her. I will not allow it.

They huddle together, her pregnant belly safely nestled between their bodies, waiting for the night to pass.

It is so tiny.

He is, Mihawk mentally corrects himself. He’s unquestionably a male, a baby boy who finally decided to be born once his exhausted mother had no longer the strength for a single push more; the shifting has caused his tiny head to slip out of the umbilical cord wrapped around it, and the baby came out naturally, crying with all the strength of his small lungs. He makes others wait for him, rather than the other way around, Mihawk thinks as he gently lulls the baby in his arms, sitting cross-legged on the stables’ dirty floor; just like me.

“Is he alright?” (name) asks weakly; she has shifted back to human after the delivery, they all have, the wolf cub instinctively turning just as his mother did. His eyes are the same colour as (name’s, he hasn’t inherited his father’s hawk-gaze, but Mihawk could swear the baby favours him. He’s the smallest, most fragile creature he has ever seen, and he can’t stop looking at him, at his soft skin and tiny hands, at the way he has screamed and cried loud enough to wake the dead for a few minutes before falling asleep against his father’s chest.

Father. He has known for two months, and still can’t wrap his head around it. He is a father, he is this child’s father, and his life will never be the same again…

“Mihawk?”

“Forgive me. He’s perfectly healthy.” he reassures her; they will have to return to the fortress soon, both to make sure mother and baby receive the proper care and because their den lacks even the most basic standards of hygiene and security, but they deserve this moment for themselves… the three of them, a couple and their child, a mother, a father and a son, a small corner of peace and perfection in an otherwise chaotic world ��Ten fingers, ten toes, and he reacts to visual and auditory stimuli. He’s absolutely perfect, my love; you’ve been amazing.”

(name) smiles softly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t be; I’m sure what you went through was worse.”

They share a smile as Mihawk passes the baby to (name), and the child rests his head against the softness of his mother’s chest, gurgling happily. Mihaws moves to put his arm around his lover’s shoulders; she smiles at him, beautiful and radiant and relieved, as they share a kiss. 

“We have a son, Mihawk.” she murmurs, and he smiles. 

“We do.” he agrees “And I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

“Are you awake, my love?”

“I think so.” you murmur as you cover a yawn behind your hand, feeling finally well-rested after what has probably been the longest day of your life; then, as you immediately perceive the absence of someone who until a few hours ago didn’t exist yet: “Where is the baby?”

“He’s sleeping as well.” your mother explains as she quickly crosses the room in the direction of the window, to once more open it and let fresh air enter; she must be exhausted as well, but the joy that fills her face makes her look ten years younger. She was still here in your room waiting when Mihawk brought you back, you wrapped in his coat with the baby in your arms, and kept you company as you were cleaned and finally allowed to rest “And the doctor saw him; he’s alright, just slightly underweight but perfectly healthy. And he was born in wolf form, just like you! It’s a good omen.”

��So they say…”

Your mother smiles as she sits on the edge of her bed, while you sit up, still a bit sore but clean and warm in your nightgown. “How do you feel, (name)?”

“Well, I think; I just… I can’t believe it really happened.” you confess “I’ve had months to get used to this, but I still fear I will wake up tomorrow morning and discover it was all a dream.”

Your mother reassures this is no dream, it is reality, with your baby safe and sound and real, and Mihawk’s ring at your finger. “I’m very glad you accepted his proposal; I’m sure the two of you will be very happy.”

“We have decided he will move here with me - with us.”

“Of course he will; what sort of family would you be otherwise? And fear not, I’ll be the model of a discreet mother-in-law, keeping your baby as you spend some time together.”

The thought brings a smile to your face, only for a moment. “How am I going to do it?”

“Do what, my love?”

“Being a mother. You took such good care of me, and I know I can hire a dozen nannies and nurses if I want, but… this is something I have no experience in; it’s completely new.” you confess; you have never shied away from a challenge and your heart is full of joy for the birth of your baby boy, but the thought of being responsible for his well-being, for his security and education and readiness to face the world once he’ll be an adult… yes, you have to admit the thought scares you “And I know Mihawk would do his part; this has nothing to do with him, just…”

“You fear you won’t be up to it.”

“I do; I fear I will disappoint you all, our child especially.”

Your mother smiles. “I’ll tell you a secret. You can read a pile of books on child rearing as tall as you are, hire an army of nannies, have your child being educated by the best tutors since he’s two, and at times you’ll still think you are doing a horrible job.” she explains “There is no sure recipe or magic formula, no foolproof remedy to make sure you’ll never make mistakes raising your child; rather, it’s something you’ll learn to do together, and discover through trial and error. Trust your judgement and the people close to you, and everything will be fine. Children can be forgiving when mistakes are made with the best intentions.”

You reflect on her words for a while, just a little less nervous than before, until your mother retrieves her Den Den Mushi from a pocket of her dress.

“I forgot to tell you; Sinead called while you were resting. I told her about the baby and she sent her regards and love, but maybe you should call her. There’s no rush, but…”

“No, you’re right; there’s something important we need to talk about after all.”

With a sigh you take the Den Den Mushi from your mother’s hands; your cousin-in-law answers almost immediately. “Sinead, it’s me.”

“(name)! How are you?” she asks, her excitation clear through the line “Congratulations! How is the baby? Your mother told me it’s a boy. Have you decided on a name?”

“Not yet; but he’s fine, fortunately, even though he took his sweet time being born. How are you? And Caspian?”

They are both fine, she assures you; it’s been a year since Sinead’s husband, your cousin Theon, was killed, and she has finally started recovering, devoting herself to the care of her son and her husband’s property, to keep it until Caspian is old enough to inherit it. Apart from her terrible taste in men, Sinead is a good woman, and you have started growing closer now that Theon’s resentment and envy towards you are no longer keeping you apart.

“I’m sure that you have everything under control, thanks to your mother and your doctor, but… well, if you need help, please call me; I have helped raise six children between Caspian and my brother’s, so I’m quite experienced.”

“I will; thank you, it’s very kind of you to offer.” you answer, sincerely touched… and suddenly a little ill-at-ease, because you hate the thought you’re going to repay her offer to help with bad news “Sinead… I know last year, after Theon died, we had discussed making Caspian my heir, but this baby… well, I want him to become lord of this island after me; it’s his inheritance, and I want to give him the best life I can.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry if this… displeases you. I’m very fond of Caspian, and will always be there for him, but…”

“No, I understand; this child is your son, it is only fair that he inherits your feud.” she points out gently “To be honest, I’m relieved; I know this is not what Theon would have wanted, but I don’t think my son would be happy in your mother’s role. We can already offer him a good start at life, and I want him to be able to choose his destiny.”

You can only approve your cousin-in-law’s decision; Sinead congratulates you again for the birth of your son, and promises she and Caspian will soon come visit. Having said your good-byes, you return the Den Den Mushi to your mother, who notices you’re a bit pensive.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

“Nothing.” you reassure her; what’s the point of worrying about the future, when the present offers you so much to be happy about? “Only that I feel blessed; and I want to see the baby and Mihawk.”

His son’s hand is too tiny to close around his index finger; Mihawk observes the scene in front of him, fascinated beyond words, a strange emotion that is love, pride, protectiveness and anxiety filling his heart. The baby is not yet aware of the world around him, so small and helpless in the vast, dangerous world, and he doesn’t know how much he is loved, and how his father, and his mother, would be ready to fight the Gods themselves to keep him safe. 

It’s alright, Mihawk thinks as he frees his finger from his son’s gentle grasp; we’ll just have to make sure he learns it and never forgets it.

“Come, my little darling.” he murmurs, his voice soothing, as he bends to lift the child from his cot. Any man or woman who knows him, even just by his fearsome reputation as a pirate and swordsman, would be amazed to hear him talk like that, but Mihawk doesn’t care, and not just because he’s alone; with his son in his arms, the baby’s tiny but steady heartbeat reverberating against his chest, it’s almost impossible to worry or care about anything else “Let us go visit your mother.”

A spacious, well-lit room next to (name)’s apartment has been arranged as a nursery for the baby, even though it’s still empty save for a cradle, the same his mother and grandfather once used, a changing table and a few shelves on the walls. Mihawk keeps the baby against his chest, a hand under his bottom and the other supporting his neck and head like the lady Veressa showed him, as he walks to his fiancée’s bedroom, finding her sitting on her bed, smiling and breath-taking in her joy.

“I was told my lady had asked for us.”

“I most certainly did, lord consort; now come, I want to see my heir, and a kiss.”

He gives her both, more careful than he’s ever been as he lowers the baby on her lap and then presses his mouth to (name)’s. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better; thanks for bringing us back, I felt so weak I really couldn’t walk…”

Mihawk smiles and shakes his head; the baby wakes up suddenly, not crying but with a quiet content sound that reminds his father of the happy chirping of a bird. 

“Do you think it was because I’m also a werewolf?” Mihawk asks suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

“You told me that for years your lovers had always been men you met out of the island; they were humans, not werewolves. And we did conceive only three months after you turned me…”

“It… would make sense; people did use to say werewolf blood has magical properties.” (name) admits slowly as she plays with the baby’s hands “But still, it’s impossible; turning into a werewolf doesn’t cure every wound or medical problem one has; Shanks’ arm didn’t grow back, and the same must be valid for me, and my… my womb.”

They reflect silently on the matter for a while, both aware that they might never find an answer to their doubt, and that they don’t need it - not when the result of that unexpected miracle is there with them, crying softly as he shakes his tiny hands.

“Are you hungry, my little love?” (name) asks, and while the baby obviously can’t answer he wastes no time in latching to her breast once she has lowered the neckline of her nightgown and raised her son to her chest, his tears soon forgotten “Here you go…”

Mihawk pulls a chair close to the bed. “We haven’t decided on a name yet.” he points out after a moment “We can’t keep calling him the baby forever. Still unwilling to use your father’s name?”

(name) shakes her head; no matter how much she loves her father, she wants her baby to be his own person, and to love him for him, not because she reminds him of someone else. “I really don’t know, there are so many good names…”

“There is one I have always liked.” Mihawk proposes “Gawain. It has a nice ring to it, does it not?”

“It does. Gawain… do you know what it means?” (name) smiles “Little falcon. I think it’s the perfect name for a son of yours. Do you like it, little one? Your name is lord Dracule Gawain…”

The baby doesn’t comment, too focused on the first meal of his life.

“We’ll always protect you.” Mihawk swears, brushing his fingers against the baby’s soft hair; dark hair, just like his. (name) nods. “And we’ll always be on your side, whatever road you decide to take; we promise.”

The baby gurgles happily as his parents share a smile, and a kiss.

“I will never leave you.” Mihawk murmurs “And I swear I will love you forever.”

[vvienna03]

Mishanks

An idea I posted on twitter <Irissvv> I wanna share it here too so…. Okay…This is my fantasy abt mishanks of this… canon divergent au? 

: this takes place in the canon after Luffy becomes pirate king where he beats Shanks,I imagine Zoro and Mihawk duel later. Mishanks reunited,figuring out abt settling down together on red force.

: and Shanks starting to thinks abt what he really WANTS to be with his life with Mihawk, them being domestic-which they can do it now-his desire to make a family. Shanks is totally satisfies how his life is going n he can still just fantasizing abt his breeding kick right?

:well so, one hot night happened n everything peaceful n all until the symptoms starts like Mihawk’s mood swings but that’s still not new- being around shanks for long term time. And morning sickness where he throw up in the dining hall?on red force where they’re having breakfast

:this goes on with Shanks worrying n but still just hovering around then Mihawk pass out and founding out the pregnancy -shocking the red haired pirates like -CAPTAIN KNOCKS UP HAWKEYES!!?- okay so I imagine how he do it is smth that have to do with his celestial dragon blood like➡️

:➡️Shanks blood has a curse or smth abt securing the bloodline no matter what.<shanks origin is so mysterious and interesting I have to do something with it> But also a lil angst because Mihawk’s not suppose to be able to carry a child so that’s his body-oragans changing into a womb can drains out his haki connecting his soul and —

—so haki making a womb but also the child’s life is forming from its mother’s soul which threaten Mihawk’s life.Shanks feeling guilty abt it but Mihawk telling to stop because he wants their baby too of course— ( I can’t do the characterization😭) but my Mishanks is soft bec I’M SOFT

: And Mihawk’s suffering from the pregnancy, he becomes so weak, his body’s thin, cheeks hollow, dark circles under his eyes, having to spent most of his days in bed -breaking Shanks heart and Shanks and his crew set out to find a solution that can make both the baby and Mihawk survive.

:I’m also imagine along the way Zoro coming to red force with perona-he tells his crew to wait while he challenges Hawkeyes by himself they respect it ofc-to navigate him and when he gets there to the news that he couldn’t believe even seeing it in front of his eyes—

:Zoro and perona can’t believe what’s they’re seeing -Hawkeyes is PREGNANT!?- and with Zoro’s protectiveness he goes lurching towards Shanks with his swords until Mihawk stops them ( I love goth family❤️🤧)

:and for the drama -the organization that are still loyal towards world government after their fall because of Luffy n Shanks hears abt Mihawk n the baby and wants to get their hands on them to revenge -nearly got Mihawk (My brain can’t think more🥲)then gets swing by yoru n going into—

:—Labor in the middle of the battle which ends up and giving birth with Shanks beside him. The baby is born but Mihawk stops breathing, the baby’s crying in the background, there’s no solution abt making both of them to survive and Shanks-he’s between the emotions

:—Shanks is torn between happiness for his newborn and devastation of losing the love of this life, crying out Mihawk’s name holding and rocking his body near his chest,face in the curve of his neck…Then the body shaken up,short breaths and Shanks took his face off of the neck—

to see his lover’s golden eyes.

( Because as much as I hate hurting them ,angst/hurt make them and their bond and love stronger eternally. Also I can’t handles sad endings, it’s fine how painful the stories may be —the endings I can’t handle🤧😭 I’m soft and sensitive.🥹)

Oh I forgot to mention why Mihawk stop breathing ,his heart stopping… well his haki and soul make his body to be able to carry a baby so when the baby is born his body is like shuts down, recondition and transform back into his old body which took a few moments.

[iamumbra195]

The other day I saw someone say that the plot of Bleach is mainly driven by the distrust and lack of belief in their friends’ character most of the main cast has in their friends, some examples being Chad and Orihime thinking that Ichigo will run away from the war if given the choice when Urahara told him to do what he believes is best despite Ichigo giving them no reason to doubt him And uryuu not telling anyone what he was doing with yhwach and the other Quincy despite obviously knowing before hand, thus making bleach very different then most shounen around the time it was created, given that those were driven by the trust and friendship the main characters had in one another. Even Ichigo himself refuses to rely on others, a fact of his character that’s made obvious in the arrancar arc where he think Rukia and Renji won’t go to heuco mundo with him to save Orihime and even refuses Ishida and chad’s help at first

and for some weird reason my mind has been fixated on a crossover between one piece and bleach where ichigo and Rukia end up in the one piece world

this is basically an AU where aizen attacks again after yhwach’s gone and everything goes kinda bad

ichigo ends up on an island near punk hazard three years before canon and five years before the timeskip (I’m making it up on the go). The island is a black smithing place where Mihawk’s Yoru and several other swords were made. Not going into details but it’s basically ruled by a tyrant and based of something in mythology

Rukia ends up at a revolutionary because a) I think she’s a great contrast to Sabo since she went from street kid to noble while sabo did the opposite and b) she’s a soldier in a corrupt military organization, the irony of having her end up with ppl who directly oppose an organization similar to the one she served, and being forced to acknowkedge the twisted corruption of the marines, a military organization headed by nobles. sound familiar? (Central 46 and the Gorosei)

like she technically knows that the soul society aren’t exactly the good guys they’re just the lesser evil most of the time so yeah, I think it’d be a great character arc also I think her sabo and koala would be a cool trio

you know what’s even more fun, neither of them have their original shinigami powers (yes, I nerfed them but I kinda have the reason why planned). They have their base swordskills and stuff but none of the fancy powers they had before, No zanpakuto, no kido. Just the basics.

They spend the next like five years adjusting, learning haki and or in Ichigo’s case, learning how to make a sword from the man who made Mihawk’s sword after making a deal to save the island from the tyrant

I love him and the weirdly fast way he learns everything so I’m applying it to this, where he wants to learn how to make a sword because none of the ones he tries feel right in his hands and he wants zangetsu back but obviously doesn’t have him so he goes about making a sword and eventually manages it after like four years

rukia on the other hand, gets her hands on a devil fruit in the second year since her arrival there— the cold cold fruit, the opposite of that Oven dude in Whole Cake Island. Obviously she eats it and learns how to use it. She’s not too creative with it at first because she misses Sode No Shirayuki but after a while she breaks that habit. The awakening would be something like her bankai because I love it and I really love her ice vibe. Also once again contrast to sabo’s flame flame fruit

blah blah blah, timeskip stuff happens and the straw hats, Law, and our favourite samurai hitch hikers get caught in a storm on the way to dressrosa and get blown into Ichigo’s island. More blah blah blah stuff that I haven’t planned and then Ichigo joins them. anyways back to my original point, the straw hats trust each other in a really great way like yes, they’ve had some bumps here and there but they would trust each other with their life AND lay down their lives for one another in the blink of an eye and that’s like a direct contrast to relationships in bleach and I think Ichigo would probably benefit from the knowledge that there are ppl that fully trust him and that he can also put his trust in

some one said in another post that luffy doesn’t have daddy issues, he has daddy solutions because he makes everyone’s daddy issue go away and Ichigo needs that shit on his life

also I think it would be really cool that since Ichigo’s whole life had been surrounded by the idea of death and a large part of his character arc in bleach is accepting death as part of life and finally moving on from his mother’s death, it would be another great character arc for him to genuinely start living his life as he likes and Luffy, the embodiment of freedom and working towards achieving your dream so you can live your life without regrets, is the best person to make Ichigo finally start living his life

this part is pretty much AU and kinda based off a fic but Ichigo’s dream in this AU would have to do with his fascination with languages and that he wanted to see the whole world to explore it and soothe the itch to run into the unknown headfirst. Pretty much wanderlust ichigo + language nerd ichigo

since he’s a blacksmith/sword smith as well, his conversations with zoro, Franky, nami, and robin would be cool plus his dad is a doctor so he’d have some medical knowledge as well so he and chopper would get along

also how could I forget the man himself, soul king brook? Brook knows there’s something fucky going on with Ichigo cause his soul is weird and brook has an awareness of souls as seen in canon. He’s basically a plus soul that’s piloting a skeletal body in a way. He’s able to see hollows and all that weird shit

this is such a fun idea I could talk about this for hours 😭😭

[alexa-fika]

Locked Database ( Mihawk x f!reader x Crocodile)

A/N yoooooo, I spent yesterday and today makind this, got stuck a lot but I was determined to make it happened. This one is darker than what you guys are used from me but I wanted feedback that part of me a little bit. Million thanks to @quinloki and @💧Anon for giving me inspiration and ideas for this 👀.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha as a place holder which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“You sure stand out, don’t you, Mr. President?” Crocodile growled, shoving the newly distributed paper on Buggy’s Throat

“It wasn’t me, I swear,” he cries

“Then how the hell do you explain it?” He said, sending a swift kick his way, ignoring the pain-filled groan that escaped him.

“I should kill you for that, clown,” he said, inching his hook closer to his neck, pausing as a knife was sent his way, passing right through his sandy body.

Mihawk continued sipping on his wine as a knife was sent his way, simply edging away slightly to avoid it, yellow irises narrowing at a woman standing before them

“Leave him alone,” she growls, a pistol drawn and pointed their way

“Dokucha” Cries Buggy

“Mr.1,” Crocodile calls, dismissedly

“Let him go,” she demanded, breath hitching as an arm wrapped around her neck, a sharp edge to it.

“Drop the weapon,” a voice grumbled behind her.

She grits her teeth, complying as the hold around her tightened, the blade digging into her skin.

“Who are you?” Crocodile asks, raising an eyebrow when his question goes unanswered.

Mihawk takes notice of this and places his wine down, and in one swift movement, takes hold of Yoru and places the sharp edge against Buggy’s neck

“Stop!” She said, trying to make a run towards him being held back by the person behind her

“Who are are you?” Mihawk Drawls

“…”

He quirks a brow at this, digging his sword closer to the Buggy, receiving a whine from the severed head

“Im his sister,” she growls

“Of this clown?” Mihawk inquires, glancing at her

“Dokucha, don’t! You moron, get out of here!” The clown pleads

“Not without you.”

“Wonder if selling you into slavery will be able to get me back all the money this one owes me.”

“Don’t touch h- Agh,” he groans as Crocodile tightens his hold on him

“Perhaps the money she gets us will be enough so we don’t have to sell you, then we can kill you here and now.”

“W-Wait” she exclaims

“You’re starting to annoy me.”

“You said you were starting a new business, right?”

He hums, gesturing to the person behind them

She sighs as the person releases her

“I'm a prodigy at statistics and economy.” She starts

“I have the ability of a devil fruit aiding me as well, makes me a human database, I can calculate in seconds, provide prognostics just as fast, I can reach valuable contacts, gather the information you can only imagine, run enough statistics to power enterprises ”she continued, getting on her knees in front of them

“I know he is an idiot, but he is still my brother; please spare him. I will work for your company; I can easily raise it and make it a formidable force, so please don’t kill my brother.” she spoke bowing her head

Mihawk takes a glance over at the begging woman

“Come here.”

She looked up at the swordsman, slowly getting up and approaching the men

“If you truly are related to this one, then you have to prove your worth,” Crocodile said, pulling out a paper and handing it to her

“These are the current funds we have. Thanks to your brother, we also have the investments we must make for the guild. Tell me how you would make it work.”

She gingerly took the paper and looked it over, her brain beginning to perform calculations, pulling information and strategies from the network, trying to find the best fit

“Well?”

“First, I would take into account the possible outcomes and expenses of these upcoming investments and create an estimated balance sheet of the income and expenses that will be generated as opposed to current investments. After that, I will assess the risk that will be involved with each expected investment and determine the expected rate of return. Additionally, I will create a comprehensive budget and forecast for expected revenues and expenses to ensure that the guild has enough resources to carry out its operations while remaining solvent. I would move funds between areas they are more needed in, I would eliminate funds given to man-power and employees to the guild; my brother has no shortage of workers, so that is something the funds should not be wasted in," she rambles

Crocodile stares at her for a few seconds until an ominous laugh escapes him

“Well, Well, seems one of the siblings is actually competent.” He stays with a grin, letting out a cloud of smoke

“Why would a smart thing like you sacrifice yourself for him?”

“Are you deaf? He is my brother, an idiot, but still my brother; I'm not leaving him to die to the likes of you.”

“That so?”

“Yes,” she growls

He hums, sending a kick to the body in front of him, the smile growing on his face at the painful whines that escaped Buggy as he did so

“Why would you do that?!” She cries, bending down to help her brother, only to stop as a sword is placed at her neck, silently urging her to rise again

She throws a glance at Mihawk as she slowly stands up again

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t appreciate the tone you are taking; if memory serves me correctly, You were the one who got on their knees begging for mercy, and we heard your plea, and in return, you insulted us?” He spoke, raising Yoru and letting a small smile as Dokucha tried to rise with it to avoid being nicked

“Don’t touch her, please! Spare her!”

Crocodile grunts, growing tired of the bluehead’s whines and sending his hook smashing to his temple, knocking him out

“Buggy!” Dokusha cried, hissing when the sword dug into her skin as she tried to step closer to her brother

“Now we can have a talk without that clown interrupting,” Crocodile spoke, letting out another train of smoke escape him

“Need I remind you that you are not the one at the advantage here, Darling?” he began leaning back

“You are outwitted, outnumbered, and outpowered; you stand no chance to leave of this unharmed, much less that brother of yours; we decided to hear your deal out but never said we would agree.”

“…”

“You certainly are an asset, and now that we know what you are capable of, we can’t allow you to leave.”

“We will spare his life; we will let him become the figurehead of crossguild, make him the scapegoat.” Mihawk continues

“A coward like him is sure to obey without complaint, especially with you in the picture. But that also brings us to you,” Crocodile spoke, looking at her mockingly. Turning to one of his subordinates and began to mutter some orders to them

“Eyes on me,” Mihawk called, pulling her attention away from the scarred man and back to him

“Seems you have more common sense and pride than him, but don’t forget where you stand.”

She grits her teeth, holding back her tongue from snapping back at him, knowing that no matter what she said, no matter what came out her mouth, he was not wrong. Her ability was the only thing keeping her alive and on their radar; she wasn’t and probably would never be a significant threat to the two Warlords.

He smiles at this

“Down,” he orders

“I ‘m not a damn mutt.”

“Yes, a dog wouldn't be this much trouble to train,” he muses

“You da-

“Down, girl,” he repeats, a firmer tone in his voice

She glares at him as she eventually does as he wants and kneels on the ground in front of them

“That will do,” she hears Crocodile mutter as the subordinate returns with something in his hands; she tries to turn to asses what the item

Was but was stopped by the sword again

“Eyes on me,” the swordsman repeats

“You have no idea what you are dealing with,” she sneers

“We do. Thanks to your pleas and little demonstration we do, and that’s why we will take precautions,” the familiar voice of Crocodile rumbles behind her; before she jad time to register his words, the sound of something snapping, and the slight weight on her shoulders answer her question

“You have quite the ability; we can’t have you trying to communicate with someone who would create a problem for us or divulging important information, so from now on, we get to decide when and how you use that devil fruit of yours.”

A feeling of dread envelops her as she tries to enter her mindscape only to be unable to find anything

“Sea stone,” Crocodile confirms

“As I said, we get to decide when and how you use it from now on, little Plover.”

“So let’s talk about what is going to happen now”

This just makes me feel some sorta waaay, what are we thinking @quinloki i, @💧anon? I am having the time of my life with this one 😂. So proud of that last part with Mihawk, really like how it turned out. Also ya’ll if that small statistic/economy talk din’t make any sense it’s because I have no idea what the hell im talking about 😂 I just used fancy words I heard my dad use, since he is a banker I figured they would fit the context.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[giurochedadomani]

They could sit on that standstill for ages, because Shanks is really good at reading people, but Mihawk's giving the biggest warning signs of 'don't come any closer', and just as he has friends at every port, he knows that Mihawk has none. Whatever he considers Shanks to be must be the most he's willing to compromise his solitude over.

I can picture ways that they'd could slowly resolve this peacefully (Benn subtly elbowing Shanks and telling him to go bother Hawkeyes before he decides to gut him-- but it's not as if Mihawk is jealous, exactly, he's just looking over because he's trying to figure out how Benn does it, how his dynamic with Shanks works to end up looking like that and how would it feel, if Mihawk decided to put himself in a position in which Shanks would just swing an arm over his shoulder when they're drinking-- but also, Mihawk is so serious and he clearly has not grasped the 'for how long can I look someone in the eyes' ratio, so it does read to anyone other that Shanks as if he's pissed).

But also, the thing you mentioned about grand gestures, makes me want to be cruel, and have them realize about how important the other considered them when it's too late. When Mihawk is incensed over Shanks loosing his arm because he's so very reckless, and does he not value himself enough that he has to give his sword arm for some dream of the future, but also. Which excuse do they have now to meet, because in Mihawk's eyes there's absolutely none-- drinks, and talks, and exploring islands together hanging on onto the single fact that they sought each other for duels, so now it feels as if Shanks has just burnt in quite an spectacular manner the bridge that united them. (And then there's Shanks, and maybe there's a bunch of nasty words exchanged, because they've been meeting for over a decade at this point, and he thought that Mihawk might consider him a friend, and the fact that he clearly sees him only as a dueling partner hurts too much to let him instantly see the bigger picture)

Or when Shanks is incensed about Mihawk becoming a Warlord, because it stings, the fact that Mihawk would consider joining the Marines over joining him, because if there's a very clear red line he cannot cross no matter the circumstances it's the one that guarantees the safety of his crew, and because Mihawk is so blassé about the whole thing, that Shanks wonders if it ever crossed his mind, the huge wall he's just build between them-- what would he do, if Garp ever told him to go after the Red Force. (And then there's Mihawk, and maybe there's a bunch of nasty words exchanged, because they've been meeting for over a decade at this point, and Mihawk thought that Shanks would know that he wants peace and quiet and time to kill in interesting outtings, that he doesn't care at all about the politics and change of powers inside of the pirate world, how does he dare to think that he'd ever raise Yoru against the Red Force? The fact that Shanks clearly doesn't know him, that he doesn't pay attention to what he says and does, that he thinks he's serving the Marines, or that Garp has him on a leash hurts too much to let him instantly see the bigger picture).

One flavor I really, really like about mishanks is Mihawk, the epitome of a lonewolf, who's pretty content with his life as it is, without ties to anywhere and anyone ever, suddenly being hit by the realization that he wants and expects things from Shanks

Like what do you mean that suddenly he's having an internal meltdown because he's alone and he feels lonely? When, before meeting the red forsaken captain, has he craved someone's presence? This whole thing about Needing Affection used to not even factor in his brain. (And how does Shanks feel about it? Because he cannot hardly go bother him about it, when unlike him Shanks has such an ample number of friends to choose from to satiate this need for affection....... )