#ive been sitting on this for months

[writerwithnofreetime]

Try Again

Pairing: Law x black!fem reader 

College! au 

You and Law were both willing participants in a summer fling that turned sour. You make it your life's mission (for three months) to make him regret tossing you to the wayside so carelessly. It all comes to a head at this party. 

wc: 4.025k

cw: mentions of alcohol, inebriation, smoking (weed and cigs), i say vape smoke like once, shit gets angsty at the end, crying 

a/n: this one is for my college girls :). I was planning on writing an Ace x reader, but I found a random draft and the spirit of Law took over me lol. I got way too into this, so I plan on turning it into a series (hopefully max 5-6 parts). Please please pleasee! Feel free to give me feedback and let me know how you feel about certain writing choices/ plot points. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Part 1- The idgaf War

He was not expecting to see you here. 

You knew it. You were counting on it. Law most likely remembers you as the super introverted girl who’d much rather stay inside with a glass of wine and a good book than go out partying with friends. You knew he viewed you as a fledgling of a woman, too naïve to be taken seriously.

It should also be known that all the heaviness in the atmosphere that contained you and Mr. Trafalgar (is what you called him in your head, using his first name feels far too intimate than he deserves) was mainly his doing. You always knew he existed. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, and you would see him out now and then, but there was no reason to speak to one another. The two of you officially met at a train station during the summer. After a week of sharing the frustration that train delays brought, he came up with the idea to exchange numbers. To- you know, let each other know about the status of the train. After a week of turning texts like ‘trains five minutes late’ into conversations about anything from tastes to relationship statuses, he suggested you guys catch dinner together.

Thus began a summer whirlwind romance, which swiftly swirled its way into a tornado as the fall semester's start was approaching. Law, who was interning at a hospital seemed increasingly busy at times he had previously allotted for you. He canceled plans he made. Phone calls went from once a day at lunch to twice a week- if you were lucky- at odd hours. You had no idea what to make of the situation, other than look at the optics and realize that you would be left in the cold if things went on this way. You made the call to end things, and to your dismay, he agreed. Although your fear had played a pivotal hand in the way fate fell, it could have been sated if the asshole had offered a sliver of reassurance at that moment. The two of you agreed to stay friends, but neither of you meant it. 

Staying friends was code for ‘let’s still follow each other on social media and kind of act like nothing happened, though we’ve seen each other's bare asses.’ It would be much easier to play it cool than to explain to any of your mutual friends why the two of you might not want to be around each other. 

The recluse version of you had played the front for 90 days so this plan would be most fruitful. To social media- and by proxy, Law- you were busy attending class, working, and studying. When you would post a selfie (semi-rare), Law would like it but never felt compelled enough to text you. Maybe the reminder of how gorgeous you were wasn’t enough for him. 

There was the possibility the two of you would run into each other, yet you accounted for this. It pained you, but you avoided the quaint cafe you introduced him to that quickly became your guys’ spot. The cafe (Puddings’) was not your favorite- you were smarter than that- but a former safe space. You also passed up on several parties and random outings Nami or any other of your friends invited you to if you so much as got an inkling he would show up.

Only you knew that those 90 days you went unseen were preparation for this month. You planned for this night to be the season finale of the fiasco that was you and Law’s (situational) relationship, and you would go out with a bang. For 90 days, you planned, scrapped, replanned outfits, and worked out ferociously. You salivated at the thought of this night. Your objective was simple- you would pop out looking like a knockout and the realization that he fucked up would hit Mr. Trafalgar so hard he would spontaneously combust. 

D-day was a party your buddy Luffy was throwing. Nami, one of your closest college friends was adamant that you made an appearance tonight, complaining about how long it’d been since everyone was together. You didn’t object. Luffy was known for throwing the best parties in the area, especially after winning a big boxing match. You knew of Luffy through Nami (his manager) who told you Law had recently become a part of Luffys medical crew for the biggest fight of his career thus far- against some guy named Doflamingo. He would be present for this party, even if only to stand on a random wall with his arms folded like Nami described on one of your Facetime calls a while back. 

Since you were here, like this, Law knew that it only meant one thing: A declaration of war. The scales were already tipped in your favor. Your armor of choice tonight was the tightest little black dress in your closet and a pair of black Converse. The dress had a square neckline and showed just enough of your chest, and if anyone got close enough, they'd see the frills from the lacy white bra you wore underneath. Your hair was piled on top of your head in a perfectly picked puff, with face-framing coils on either side of your face, right in front of your ears. Your lips were glossed clear and your makeup simple- the embodiment of cute and casual. To others, it always appeared like you were effortlessly beautiful. Mr. Trafalgar probably thought you didn’t know how to wield your beauty like a sword, to make him kneel at your feet with an offhanded glance. But he was going to learn very soon.

The smell of weed, vape smoke, and booze slapped you in the face as you made your way into the function. The two Buzzballs you pre-gamed with hit you halfway into your Uber trip, so the flush of party wind was disorienting. You pushed- well shimmied, it was pretty packed- on. Clung to your left shoulder was a small black purse with your necessities- lipgloss, debit card, ID, and some dum dums (real bad bitches keep candy in their purse). In your right hand is the unopened bottle of Bacardi Tropical you promised Nami and Vivi to bring. 

It didn’t take long to find them in the kitchen area of the party, with the usual crew- Luffy, whom you heard before you saw, solo cup raised with his signature smile. Sanji has a cigarette in his mouth, a blunt behind his ear (you would question him about that later), and a pretty brunette under his arm you hadn’t seen before (typical). Zoro is leaning against the counter closest to Luffy chatting with…. Law? Well, you couldn’t see the dickheads face, but you knew damn well that was the back of Law's head you were looking at. You smiled devilishly to yourself. This was just the situation you were expecting. You stride over and greet your friends. 

“Y/n!” Luffy exclaimed as soon as you set the bottle on the counter by the other ones. “I’m glad you could make it!” He put an arm around you and smiled even wider. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!” You giggled. Luffy is always great vibes when you’re around him. 

“Yeah, I guess I have been a bit mia…” You trail off with a playful smile. Nami yanks Luffy’s arm, chastising him for almost spilling whatever was in his cup on you. Vivi laughs and greets you with a hug. Sanji introduces you to the girl you know for a fact he met no longer than a week ago as the ‘love of his life”. Her name is Viola and she has your blond-haired friend wrapped around her finger. Someone taps your shoulder, and as you turn to see who, your eyes transiently focus on Mr.Traflagar’s visage. It was hard to tell if he was looking at you, the brim of his hat was pulled pretty low tonight. His face was facing yours. It was pretty dark, but you noticed his lip twitch into a scowl as he took the joint from Zoro’s hand. Law clearly senses the bloodlust in your demeanor. You quickly adjust your gaze to the person who requested your attention.

“If I knew you were bringing more liquor, I would’ve texted you. We ran out of sake about thirty minutes into the party,” Zoro says, peering at you with an easy grin. You roll your eyes and display a cheeky smile of your own.

“Oh, please. You’ll drink anything you get your hands on so shut up, and let's take some shots.” You turn to face the counter full of liquor and grab a cup. Zoro moves past you and fills his cup with the Bacardi you just brought. Nami forces him to pour a shot for the girls before he makes off with the rest. The four of you cheer, then lean your heads back to take sips (in Zoros' case, gulps) of the vodka. 

The burn produces heat in your throat, forcing you to part your lips and exhale. However, it seemed the side of your head would catch fire long before your windpipe. Maybe the incoming tipsiness had you imagining things, but you swear you could feel his eyes on you, dancing across your body and soaking up your frame. Still, you refused to acknowledge his presence. 

No one has noticed that the area y’all are conjugating in had suddenly become a war zone, let alone the blaze emanating from Law’s stare. Your target was now to your immediate right since you and Zoro had traded places. Zoro and Luffy are going shot for shot, entertaining Nami and Vivi. Sanji and his new lover had quietly disappeared after you all took a shot together. 

“Y/n.” He said it loud enough for you to hear it over the music, but it wasn’t like he was raising his voice. His tone was firm and even, and clearly laced with the influence of weed. It seemed to ring in your ears and vibrate in your brain.

You faced him and scanned his countenance with your eyes. He looked… okay. Fine, more than okay. He looked the fuck good. He wore a black hoodie with a white top underneath, his favorite pair of jeans, and black Jordans. There was a decent amount of space between the two of you, but you were close enough to see that he was, in fact checking you out, with his eyes trained on your ass in particular. Shit, it was poking in this dress, which was the defining factor in you choosing it tonight.

You quickly downed the rest of your cup.

“Trafalgar,” you replied cooly, not faltering under his punitive gaze. Seriously. Law looked genuinely bothered by your presence. He was squinting at you, almost as if you were some mirage. The look in his eye made your chest burn with feelings you were actively trying to suppress. Still, he would not win this battle of wills. Not when you knew that simply being here was enough to ruin his night. You craned your head to the side and gave him an easy smile. A smile that you know for certain would weaken his composure. 

It strikes him, you’re sure—his right eye twitches.

“I…..” he trails off, scanning your figure again. You clear your throat and turn to face him. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight.” 

The statement stunned you because it was exactly what you wanted. It also seemed- dangerously honest?  Law was never this forthcoming in the past. He’s the liar-by-omission, roundabout truth-telling type. What is he playing at? You glance at him, brows furrowed.

“Why wouldn’t I be here? Luffy and I are good friends.”

“You weren’t at the match.”

“I couldn’t make it. Besides, I’m here now, having a great time with my friends.” The two of you hold a gaze. Law parted his lips but quickly decided against whatever he was going to say. A chuckle escapes you. “Aren’t we friends, Mr. Trafalgar?”

He raises a brow at the use of his surname. 

“No,” He says after a ten-second pause. He takes one step toward you, and you have half a mind to help him bridge the gap. “I’m not your friend y/n.” His tone is resolute and his eyes, though half-lidded, reflect the same. 

The closeness of his voice resurfaces dangerous memories. Heat rose in your cheeks and the pit of your stomach, but you would not let that control you. You steadied yourself, remembering why you were in this position in the first place. How easy it was for Law to distance himself from you after the night the two of you almost crossed the line. How he responded to your rant at Zepplins with ‘ if that’s what you think is best for you’ then immediately left when you told him you wanted to end things. The text he sent you after saying the two of you would always ‘be cool’. He didn’t fight for you then, so he doesn’t get to make you horny now.  You smile sweetly, but the sentiment turns sour by the time it reaches your eyes. He recoils at the look. 

“Good,” you say warmly. There was more you could say, more you wanted to say, but you knew it would sting more if you kept it short. You spin around, not wanting to spend another moment looking into the asshole's eyes. You rejoin your friends' conversation as if you have never been missing. 

Zoro pours too much tequila into your cup, and you can’t even be bothered to scold him for it. You immediately down half and chase it with a Gatorade, hoping that the electrolytes will be enough to save you from a hangover in the morning. Zoro glances at you, one brow raised.

“You okay there?” Your moss-haired friend has always been extremely perceptive. You press your lips together and nod your head.

“I’m great. I just want to make the most of tonight.” He looks at you again, straight-faced. Zoro’s not buying your shit, but he won't pry any further. Not tonight at least. His eyes focus just past you, then back on you again. “What?”

He raises his cups to his lips to hide his smirk as he nods in Law’s direction. You feel your cheeks burn and a finger at your shoulder, followed by the side of Law’s head. You refuse to move anything but your eyes. Zoro turns around to give the two of you as much privacy as possible. 

“Y/n,” Law starts. His breath is heavy in your ears and his voice reaches every part of you. “I get the feeling if I don’t ask you to speak to me now, I’ll never hear from you again. Please, talk to me.” You lift your chin and pout in frustration. Law wasn’t playing fair. He straightens himself as you turn to face him, arms folded.

“You want to do this right now?” 

“Not here.” You squint. “On the porch.” He adds. You shrug at him and Law visibly relaxes. Two gulps emptied the contents of your cup. You grab a water bottle and previously opened Gatorade and make your way out of the party. Nami and Vivi catch you on your way out. You tell them you were going to get some air. They ask if you want company, but you shake your head and stride out of the party into the night air. Not once do you look back to see if Law is following behind you, though you hear his footsteps once under the plywood of the porch. 

Luckily for you two, there was no one outside- at least anyone who would care to listen in on this conversation. You move to the ledge and wait for Law to join you. You soak in the ambiance around you as you take sips of water. It was pretty, the audio blend of the bass and drums from the party mixed in with the night sounds. There was a light breeze you let wash over you as you closed your eyes. Law clears his throat, but you remain as is. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You were not fucking fine. You’re racking your brain for a strategy, or any indication of how he would play it. This was a shocking turn of events. The Law you accounted for would never draw you out of a party to talk, where several eyes could witness. You played with the cap of the bottles you placed on the ledge. 

“Is it too much to ask you to look at me?” 

“Yes.” Law sighs. You place your hand on your chin and glance at him. He takes his hat off and runs his fingers through his messy waves before pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks up and his grey orbs widen, shocked that yours are staring back at his. 

Fuck it, you thought. I’ll just do whatever I want tonight and pretend it never happened later. 

You bit the inside of your cheek as the silence pressed against the two of you. The tension was so palpable you could see the air currents moving between you. You wish you could grasp it and throw it across the street.

“Y/n….” He straightens up and leans against a support beam. 

You followed his movement with your eyes. “How many times are you going to say my name?” 

He chuckles and looks up from the brim of his hat in his hands directly to you. The sincerity in his eyes softens your heart. 

“I know what I’m about to say might be too late, but please. I need to tell you this.” His words made you straighten up and turn to face him, fingers awkwardly drumming at your sides. The both of you were clearly out of your element here. Law clears his throat and continues, his eyes never leaving yours. “I tried to push you away back then. I’m sorry. After that night when we almost-”

“You don’t have to say it”

He rubs his shoulder with this free hand. “Yeah, sorry. Listen y/n, it wasn’t your fault. I panicked. I don’t know. I knew then that I liked you way more than I felt I should have, and I didn’t want to. I don’t know why- maybe fear- I don’t know. I just,” he exhales. “I thought that if I let you any closer, it would devastate me if I lost you. I didn’t account for losing you when I was icing you out. I wasn’t thinking about how my actions would affect you, only about saving myself. Leaving without talking about it was a big mistake, and I knew it as soon as I got up. But I couldn’t let you in back then. I was…. terrified.” 

The heaviness of the indignation boiled and anviled inside your bosom. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides. Tears prickled at your eyes, but you refused to let any fall. You refuse to hide your pain either.

“Law, I-” you started, unconsciously stepping towards him. “ I don’t believe you. This doesn’t make sense to me.” He raised his arms slightly as if to grab you, but lowered them again as his face studied yours.

“I- I know.”

“No, you don’t know.” you took another step. “Why didn’t you tell me this when I told you how I felt that day? Or any moment after that? You-” Your fist was raised, and two tears fell down one side of your face. “How dare you come and tell me you let me go because you were terrified! You? I thought you didn’t care about me. I thought you discarded me because we didn’t-” You were holding back sobs at this point, and your fists weakly hit Law's shoulders with every sentence. “You made me- I- I felt.” 

He pulls you into his arms and you collapse—everything you held inside escapes you in the form of silent tears against his hoodie. The faint smell of his cologne and weed fills your nose. You were too overwhelmed by the release to be ashamed of yourself for crying in his arms like this. Law presses you tightly as he whispers a slew of apologies into your ear. You honestly don’t know if you believe him. Right now, it didn’t matter. 

Laws hold felt like a steady anchor in the new waters that was the vulnerability between the two of you. He presses his lips to your forehead and you pull away slightly to look up at him. He grimaces and pulls away a little more, using his hoodie to dab at your eyes. 

“Fuck, y/n. I-” He pauses. “I don’t want to keep apologizing. I know it doesn’t do much for you. But it’s tearing me apart inside that I made you feel like this. I fucked up.” You inhale sharply.

“Yeah,” you whisper. Law lifts your chin to his gaze. You could see that a few tears had escaped him as well. You lifted your hand to his jaw, which clenched slightly at your touch. 

“I missed you so much, y/n.” You sniffled as you looked at his lips, suddenly wanting to watch his mouth formulate every word. You were soaking in this new side of Law, not caring about its potential expiration date. You ran your thumb over the outer corner of his eye, wiping away the wetness that gathered there. 

The sound of police alarms pierced through the night and the tender moment. You jump away from each other as Lieutenant Garp slams his car door and walks up the porch. 

��Evening, L/n.” He looks to Law and furrows his brows a bit. “Trafalgar.” His eyes train back on you, a bit of surprise mixed in them.

“Uh-”

“I suggest the two of you get ahead of the crowd that’s about to disperse and call for your rides now. This party is over.”

“Uh, okay.” Garp walks away from the two of you and into the party of unsuspecting youth. You chuckle and shake your head, wishing you could be inside to witness the conversation Luffy and his grandfather would have. You’re sure Nami will tell you the next day. You turn back to Law, who had jumped back a respectable distance at the sight of Garp. His hat was already back on his head and he tapped at his phone screen awhile before looking at you”

“I’ll call you an Uber home.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Correction,” he interrupts. “I’ve already called you an Uber home. It’s ten minutes out.” Your body temperature went up five degrees. 

“Well, thanks.” He shrugs and looks off to the side, his jaw clenched again. Another five degrees. You pull at your dress and play with a pebble under your foot.

“Y/n,” Law starts, commanding your gaze back to his. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please, let me make it up to you. I want to try again. I want to do it right this time.” 

“Law…” He shook his head.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. Text me when you get home safe. Goodnight.” He plants a quick peck on your forehead. Before you can respond, you hear Vivi call out your name from the doorway as the crew approaches you. When you look back in Law's direction you find his spot vacant. He disappeared in the growing crowd. You pull your phone out of your purse and two notifications stand out.

The first is the Uber details.

The other- is a text from Law’s Number. You deleted his contact in anger in August, but that combination of digits is burned into your memory. 

hey, it’s law.  sorry for stealing a kiss. couldnt help myself. brunch on me at Puddings tomorrow to make up for it. text me when you get home. please 

[ouroborealis-charnivore]

Crowley dying in s3

I wasn't sure how to start this meta. I've had this theory with possible (big possible) evidence sitting around for ages and I just didn't know what to do with the information.

After I'd already had this information, I only seen a hand full of others talk about it, but none have touched on it in the same way as the things I've found in my research.

So let's get on with it. For reference I'm going to tag @nightingalecottage and their lovely post here. I really recommend reading it. This theory only saw the light of day because of their post and I told them I would tag them with my meta since it lends a lot to it. And I promised myself that I would finish this for them.

Now for the meat and potatoes. I'll break it all down about how I found this information and how it might lend some theory about possible plot to s3.

This got really long so I put a cut.

-Silly narrator voice-

The facts were these.

To start I was doing research for a fic I'm working on and the details don't matter much but I'd planned to make my 'human' crowley a barrister. I was googling famous barristers for inspiration.

This lead me to wikipedia naturally as you do. And as I was looking over the list I saw this.

After seeing this name on the list of barristers in popular culture I had a mini freakout. Mainly because two things NG is a huge fan of Charles Dickens and A Tale of Two Cities is on the bookclub reading list. And I kept thinking why did this seem familiar and this is why.

A Tale of Two Cities is on the list of books that they recommend we read or were found in s2. So after I stopped freaking out I immediately went to the wiki page for this character. I wasn't too familiar with this book so I wanted to know more. As I was now super invested and intrigued. And found this.

Sydney Carton

I couldn't help be blown away by the similarities here between Sydney Carton and a certain depressed snake demon from s2. Morosely asking Shax on a bench in the first episode "What's the point of it all?"

For some context, in the novel Sydney Carton and his later best friend Charles Darnay share a striking semblance and are easily mistaken for each other. This is how Sydney is then able to make the switch with Darnay in the end saving his life.

This brings to mind of the lore that we know that Crowley and Aziraphale were once long ago one character and split into two. Also with the ideal casting choice that Terry Pratchett wanted one actor to play both roles. That would have been really interesting and funny. Also this plays into our favorite duo MS and DT having not worked together before because they were up for the same roles.

Let's move on to

Charles Darnay

Darnay resents his uncle's views much how Aziraphale resents certain aspects of heaven, but is never able to act on very much.

The note about Darnay being tutor of French made me chuckle considering what we know about Aziraphale being terrible at French. With that whole scene centered around it in s2.

Ok so we all are well versed and familiar with the famous Bastille scene. We all know the one and its clear the inspiration here for it comes from A Tale of Two Cities possibly.

Side note Darnay and Carton are both in love with Lucie here, but I posit that in the case of Good omens, Aziraphale is possibly both Darnay and Lucie. Making him the best friend and love intrest.

Lucie Manette

And finally why does any of this matter and what does this have to do with Crowley maybe dying in s3 you ask?

The one important detail in all of this is that at the end of the novel Carton heroically sacrificed himself to save his best friend and for the women he loves. He feels it gave him purpose and felt as if his life finally had meaning.

Two things here. The scene in which Carton swaps places with Darnay being able to pass as him well enough to save his life. Is very reminiscent of our Body Swap from s1. As well as the idea that in s3 this could also happen, but in the sense that Crowley does it to save Aziraphale's life. I clearly have no idea how s3 will play out.

Now I'm not saying that s3 will be as dramatic as all of this. It is still a comedy at its core. As others have touched on in meta and in nightingalecottage's post there are many little hints that point to the similarities and the idea that Crowley maybe doomed by the narrative. In a way, I personally don't think that Crowley's hypothetical death will be permanent. I just do not see that happening at all. A temporary death I could definitely see and it could also serve to show how much Crowley truly means to Aziraphale. The shock of it would maybe be similar to how Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in s1 and could be a parallel.

In the end this is all speculation and theory. Either way the idea of it all makes me vibrate and I needed to finally share this with someone else. They wouldn't have recommended this book if there wasn't some sort of meaning here right? And its entirely possible I'm looking in the wrong direction.

Overall there are many parallels and similarities here between A Tale of Two Cities and certain parts of Good Omens, I'm sure I may have missed some and I just wanted to end this now before it gets too long. If you made it this far and have any other theories or something you want to add on to this please feel free to tag me. I release this into the void.

[krea2re]

one of my finals :) i made a full title sequence for iwtv youtube link

[obsob]

oooooooooough i love you i love you i love you!!!! hand in loving hand !!!!!!

[papanowo]

au where bones is a witch, spock is a runaway prince and jim’s like, the chosen one or something (they don’t talk about it)

( prompt fill for @mcspirkevents bingo card prompt “fantasy au” ^_^ )

[sabertoothwalrus]

he was holding ice cubes

[sanchomps]

came from the knife

oc belongs to @panicbones!

[vhsdruid]

matching ho-oh and lugia sticker designs for december

[mozzarellamint]

good luck with that man

[dinoserious]

⚡️BALD FACED HORNET⚡️

[+FUNSIES RAINBOW EDITION. HAPPY PRIDE]

[jennyfromthebes]

life advice from the mountain goats:

- lie to the cops

- watch for the signs and learn how to read

- let all the lights blaze, keep your heart light, play really loud music all hours of the night

- do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive, do every stupid thing to try to drive the dark away

- life is too short to refrain from eating jam out of the jar

- steal what you need

- bring back some blurry pictures to remember all your darker moments by

- read all about it on the wikipedia page

- don't hurt anybody on your way up to the light, and stay alive, just stay alive

- make it through this year

[sleepytoken]

[baconplasm]

(hands them over)

[oldrudshore]

65 episodes 1 movie and lemme tell you. Nothing pisses me off more than this one shot from Scrapheap. Optimus isn't sitting on anything he's just leaning like a fucking idiot. doesn't your fucking back hurt

you almost die in the fucking arctic and you come back and pose like a jojo character. fuck you

[gayestcowboy]

trans demon 12

(uncensored)

[snailpaste]

Hi! This is my first time requesting, so am kinda nervous to request!

Can I get Shanks x HalfDragon! Male reader? Or gn reader if you prefer that more, like they were secretly childhood best friends then got separated when HalfDragon! Male reader got captured by the Marines? (He was too weak that day) then few years pass and they meet again? Like Shanks found him all chained up on a island that belongs to the Marines (is there any island that belongs to the Marines??) and considered as dangerous?

Fluff and angst too pls!!

(Sorry if am not making any sense, English not my first language)

(Also, if you're uncomfortable with this, ignore it or delete it! I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable with me :D)

Shanks x Dragon! Male Reader

CONTENT: SFW, gen fic (can be read platonically or romantically), imprisonment, kidnapping, child neglect, male reader, dragon reader (like seraphim)

AN: I hear ya I hear ya. I’ve never written for anything remotely anthropomorphic before. This took so long I'm so sorry 💀 if you're still around I hope you like it (:

The Roger Pirates had been laying low for a few months, wandering about in the South Blue following a particularly high-profile rendezvous with an Admiral, when they drew in to dock at Bakemono Island.

It was here that you were found, sneaking up on, and stealing from, a tipsy Crocus. You’d nearly made it out the door too, cloak pulled tight over your shoulders, the rowdy drunken cheers of the crew providing a great distraction… until a firm hand clasped around your elbow and tugged you back. You spun around in shock, coming face-to-face with a red-haired boy roughly your own age, and a looming figure above.

You froze seeing his expression morph into one of shock, mentally preparing for him to be disgusted or angered by your eyes, the smattering of scales across your skin, your slightly pointed teeth, but his gaze only softened.

But the first things Shanks noticed were the cuts and scrapes covering you, evidence of the resentment and fear the locals had. You clearly hadn’t bathed in weeks (the lake long since frozen over in the harsh winter) and your lips were purple and trembling from the bitter night air. Bruises littered your skin, some fresh and some yellow.

Before you could run off again, Shanks had frantically called over a tall blond man. Rayleigh had looked down at you from behind shanks, immediately noticing the wallet clasped in your shaking hands, but his annoyance at a brat -And hell, you must’ve been no older than what, five?- stealing from his crew was quickly dulled when he saw your face. Any scolding died in his throat, and he gently forced you down into a chair, sliding you a bowl of stew with a simple demand, “eat.”

Courtesy of Shanks’s incessant probing, you reluctantly admitted you had no family or caregivers. Hearing this, Rayleigh and Roger had all but decided you were to become a member of their crew, a proposition you agreed to so quickly you accidentally choked on the bread roll you were given. The night had gone well after that, the crew didn’t ask questions, too tipsy or busy with terrible karaoke to bother, and once things had subdued you were brought aboard the Oro Jackson. 

You were carried to a small cabin by Rayleigh, barely awake. He tucked you into a comfortable hammock where you fell asleep feeling secure for the first time in your life.

That sense of tranquillity was lost the second you woke up.

A boy your own age grinned down with bright red eyes and equally shocking hair, interrupting your startled scream with a chirpy “Hey! I’m Shanks. Who- no don’t scream you’ll wake the clown- who’re you? Whatcha doin’ here? I like your… scales? And your eyes! And-”

From that moment on Shanks became a permanent fixture in your life, whether by your own volition or not, and while a little overwhelming for an orphaned social outcast to begin with, the redhead quickly became your best friend. Shanks, and the rest of the crew, helped you come out of your shell

Over time the two of you more or less became a packaged deal— wherever you went, the crew knew Shanks was soon to follow suit; wherever Shanks went, you’d be hot on his heels. Quickly, the Oro Jackson became home and the crew the family you’d never had.

You quickly caught up to Shanks in swordsmanship, leading to amused gambling from the crew during your many duels. As you got older, the crew learned to make the two of you wait until a nearby island before fighting, following a rather nasty incident of a cleaved mast. Your dragon abilities became stronger as you got older too, and a nasty bout of flu led to you setting Buggy’s hat on fire.

The sea was calm the day you’d pulled in to dock at orchard island. Roger entrusted the task of gathering a few specific supplies to you, a routine you carried out often. Hours passed, and the atmosphere on the ship grew uneasy. Shanks returned from his own chores, expecting to see you, but you were nowhere in sight. The crew began searching the ship frantically, calling your name with increasing worry. However, as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours gave way to nightfall, it became evident that something was terribly wrong.

Shanks discovered your belongings untouched in their shared quarters. The half-finished drawings, the worn-out pirate hat - all left behind. The crew descended on the town in search of you. 

In the heart of the town square, Gaban discovered a series of wanted posters plastered to the wall, large red “X”s painted over them — displaying your face. Shock ran through the crew as they first realised that the marines had been watching you closely. Then, that you’d been taken.

──────────────────── many years later...

The scent of salt and decay lingered in the air as Shanks and his crew disembarked onto the abandoned Naval Fortress, its walls cracked and crumbling, long since reclaimed by nature. 

Possibilities of treasures or hidden secrets about the World Government drew Shanks to investigate the fortress

The soft slap of his sandals echoed as he wandered through the corridors.

As the crew rifled through old storage rooms and examined dusty maps, Shanks couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this forsaken place. His instincts led him to a particularly intact section of the fortress; the walls stood strong, showing no signs of weathering.

“Hey, Benn,” he called over his shoulder, palm splayed against the cool stone, “you seeing what I’m seeing?”

A wave of Haki accompanied by a soft grunt confirmed it. Shanks pushed his hand forward, the brick beggining to slide backwards at the same time as a bookshelf on the opposite end of the room swung open. A draft of cold air greeted them as the secret door creaked open, revealing a dark passageway leading downwards. 

The two exchanged looks before descending, Benn lighting a bundle of old lamps as a torch. The descent was eerie, the walls damp and the air heavy. The further they went, the more ominous the surroundings became. Shadows danced on the walls, and the distant echo of dripping water kept them on edge. 

At the bottom of the passageway, Shanks caught his foot on something, something that clanked and grated against the lichen-covered floor. Benn swung the torch downwards, casting the corner of the room in dim light— and Shanks couldn't believe his eyes. Chained to the cold, the stone wall was a figure. You.

Word Count: 1094