BitterCandy-SweetRain

[bittercandysweetrain]

Soooo.... It's obvious the next part will be the Marinford arc. However I promise I don't want to focus too much on it because that would be a lot. I want more to focus on y/n and shanks meeting again and either building a relationship or maybe something else. All I know is I'll be skimming the Marinford arc and y/n's perspective to push more to Shanks arriving after everything. Like I wrote be possible 3 more parts before I go on to other characters.

I have a list I wanna work on while in my one piece fever mode lol.

Marco (daddy issues alternate route)

Ace (daddy issues alternate route)

Izou maybe I'm on the fence about this one

(alternate route means I take from the original post shanks x reader daddy issues and change it to lead to her being with either Marco or Ace. Because we know about Ace's fate I would go further back and add more scenes and so on with her and ace even having her go with him to track Blackbeard and so on.)

Definitely want to write smut pieces on

Mihawk x reader (Amnesia viper) mihawk finds a woman suffering from amnesia washed up on his island. The heat is turned up while the two fight through a tsunami leaving them bored and without power. Mihawk eventually discovers she is an infamous marine called Viper.

Law x reader (plague doctor) law comes across an island known for having the plague. Forced to confront his past he comes across a woman who consumed a devil fruit which causes illnesses. He offers to end her life so y v she can't hurt anyone else in the process they make a deal to clear her bucket list first. 😜

Doflamingo x chubby reader (Degrade me) while attending a burlesque show Doffy sees someone he wants a thick dancer that makes him throb in his pants. He can't help but but the woman for personal use what starts off as having a mouthy bully unlocks a kink he didn't know he had.

Corazon x reader (Angel with a shotgun) Corazon manages to catch the eye of the only granddaughter and marine of garp. While she struggled more since she was a girl he seemingly can't shake her no matter how hard he tries. She is persistent, annoying, loud, and crazy but the sex is good.

Eustass x reader (💦🍑🐈‍⬛ ) Eustass comes across the daughter of shanks. Kidnapping her to blackmail the red haired pirates. He realizes he might have made a mistake bringing the wild cat on board.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x reader (Viper pt.8)

The morning sun broke through the heavy Kuraigana fog, casting long, pale beams of light across the floor of Mihawk's private office. He sat behind his desk, the quiet memory of the previous night's midnight kiss still lingering in the back of his mind. But today, the pragmatic swordsman had returned to the puzzle at hand. Resting on the dark wood of his desk was the elegant, slim blade he had recovered from the shoreline reef. Mihawk picked up the weapon, his gloved fingers tracing the exquisite craftsmanship of the hilt and the fluid sweep of the guard. It was perfectly weighted—made for high-speed evasion and lethal, precise strikes. But as he turned the sword over, his sharp golden eyes caught a microscopic seam near the pommel that a casual observer would have missed entirely. With a practiced, careful twist, he unscrewed the base of the hilt. The pommel clicked open, revealing a hidden, hollow chamber built directly into the core of the handle, designed to feed liquid into a microscopic groove running along the flat of the blade. It was a classic assassin's mechanism, meant to poison a target with even the slightest scratch. Mihawk brought the open chamber closer, tilting it toward the morning light. The reservoir was mostly drained by the sea, but a tiny, crystallized residue remained at the very bottom. He lowered his head and took a cautious, shallow breath, catching the faint scent drifting from the hidden chamber. It didn't smell like metallic chemicals or the harsh, bitter sting of common swamp toxins. It smelled distinctly floral. Sweet, delicate, and hauntingly familiar. Mihawk’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as the pieces clicked together with absolute, chilling certainty. The scent was a perfect match for the sweet, bell-like fragrance of the Lily of the Valley—the very flower tattooed on her skin, and the very poison she had so effortlessly identified in his garden and his kitchen. She wasn't a doctor saving lives on a pirate ship. She was a ghost who carried her own signature venom inside a masterfully hidden blade. Mihawk’s golden eyes snapped toward the doorway as the heavy oak door creaked open.

Lily stepped into the morning light of his office, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her presence immediately softening the cold, analytical atmosphere of the room. Before he could slide the weapon beneath his desk, her gaze locked onto the slim, elegant blade resting on the dark wood. She walked over, tilting her head in curiosity. "How many swords do you keep hidden in this castle, Mihawk?" she asked softly, looking up at him. Mihawk watched her expression with a sharp, calculating intensity, looking for any flash of recognition, a twitch of her fingers, or a widening of her eyes. He slowly pushed the blade a few inches closer to her. "More than most," he replied smoothly, his voice dropping into a low test. "Does this one look familiar to you, Lily? Do you feel anything when you look at its frame?" Lily reached out, her fingers hovering just a centimeter above the hilt, but she ultimately shook her head, a familiar wave of frustration clouding her features. "No... It's beautiful, but it doesn't spark anything. Should it?" Seeing that her conscious mind still held absolutely no memory of her lethal past, Mihawk pulled his gaze away, quietly locking the weapon inside his desk drawer. "No. It is simply a curiosity." Brushing the dark mysteries aside for the time being, Mihawk chose to let the day belong to them. For the first time, the brooding Warlord put his logs away and spent the afternoon entirely in her company. They walked through the foggy grounds, read by the hearth, and spoke in quiet, easy rhythms, the lingering heat of their midnight kiss casting a comfortable warmth over every shared look.

As evening approached, the smell of savory herbs filled the castle kitchen. Lily stood by the hearth, stirring a fresh broth, a light smile on her face. Mihawk stepped up quietly behind her, his large hands settling gently onto her waist. "Mihawk, I'm trying to cook," she laughed softly, though she didn't push him away. "The dinner can wait," he murmured. Without a single word of music, he guided her into a slow, gentle sway right there between the stone counters and the roaring stove. It wasn't the sharp, testing tango of the courtyard, but a tender, intimate waltz. Lily leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. When the dance slowed to a stop, Mihawk cupped her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his, and pressed his lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss that left them both breathless. "Last night wasn't enough, was it?" Lily said as she held his hand, bringing it to her lips. "You can say that," MIhawk said, caressing her cheek. He leaned in, pressing against her. Lily leaned back against the counter, Mihawk picked her up, setting her on the flour without a care. Kissing her with much passion, Lily wrapped her arms around his neck. pressing her forehead against his, she was breathing heavily, "I-I am in l-" before she could tell him anything. The peace of the kitchen was abruptly shattered by the loud, rhythmic ringing of the purple Den Den Mushi echoing from his study down the hall. Mihawk’s brow furrowed in irritation. Giving Lily a quiet, reassuring nod, he stepped away to answer it. He strode into his office and slammed the receiver up, expecting another round of reckless teasing. "I told you not to call this frequency again, Shanks." "Mihawk, listen to me," Shanks’s voice cut through the transponder, entirely stripped of his usual boisterous laughter. The Den Den Mushi’s face was deadly serious, its eyes wide with an urgent gravity. "I did some digging after you hung up on me. I called a few old contacts who have eyes inside Mariejois and the Marine top brass." Mihawk stood perfectly still, his grip tightening on the receiver. "What did you find?" "The woman who washed up on your island... she isn't a pirate doctor, and she isn't an underworld broker," Shanks said, his voice dropping to a tense whisper. "A few months ago, the World Government scrubbed a high-level operative from their active rosters. Word is, she belongs to an elite, deep-cover intelligence unit working directly under the highest Marine commands. Her real codename is Viper."

Mihawk’s grip on the receiver tightened until his knuckles turned white. The revelation cut through his analytical mind like a razor. A deep-cover Marine operative, scrubbed from the records. "If she was an elite asset for the Marine top brass, what happened?" Mihawk demanded, his deep voice dropping into a dangerously low whisper. "Why did the Marines let her go? A weapon like that is rarely discarded willingly." On the other end of the line, the Den Den Mushi’s expression shifted, its brow furrowing deeply as Shanks's tone grew even heavier. "They didn't let her go, Mihawk. They hunted her. She betrayed them." "Betrayed them?" "She was leaking highly classified intelligence directly from the upper echelons of Marine command," Shanks explained, the background noise on his end entirely dead. "When the Cipher Pol units finally caught wind of the leak, they realized the call was coming from the base. Viper wasn't just working for the Marines—she was a plant. It turns out, she was placed deep within the World Government years ago by Monkey D. Dragon himself. She’s a spy for the Revolutionary Army." Mihawk’s golden eyes narrowed as the final pieces of the puzzle violently slammed into place. The exceptional martial footwork, the masterfully crafted assassin's blade, the flawless knowledge of lethal botany, and the total lack of standard pirate records. She wasn't a shadow of the underworld; she was a shadow of the revolution. And now, she was sleeping under the roof of a World Government Warlord. "They cornered her ship a few weeks ago," Shanks continued, pulling Mihawk back from his thoughts. "A fleet of Marine battleships opened fire. From what my contacts say, a massive battle broke out right before that rogue tsunami swept through the sector and swallowed the whole damn conflict. Get her out of there before both pinpoint the island." 

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x reader (Viper pt.7)

Warning smut ~

Dracule glanced down at her hand that held his shirt, turning his body to face her. "You do not know what you are asking," Mihawk murmured, his deep voice dropping into a low, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate in the quiet room. "I am not a comforting man. I am a swordsman. My world is filled with blood, cold steel, and shadows." "I don't care about the shadows," she whispered, her gaze locking onto his with a fierce, sudden clarity that defied her exhaustion. She didn't let go of his sleeve; instead, her grip tightened, using it to pull herself slightly up against the pillows, closing the distance between them. "The shadows are all I have. But when you are near, they don't feel like a threat. They just feel like... a quiet place to rest." Mihawk’s breath caught in his throat. The restraint he had for weeks was turning into compulsion. He lifted his free hand, his bare fingers brushing gently against her jawline. His touch was remarkably tender, his thumb tracing the soft curve of her cheekbone. She instinctively leaned into the warmth of his palm, her eyelashes fluttering as a soft breath escaped her lips. "You are an anomaly," Mihawk whispered, his face tilting down, his shadow completely enveloping her. "A ghost who refuses to leave my castle." "Then keep me," Lily breathed against the bare inches of air separating them. Mihawk didn't hesitate any longer. He closed the remaining distance, pressing his lips firmly against hers. The kiss was slow, heavy, and intensely deliberate. It wasn't a reckless burst of sudden passion, but the inevitable breaking of a dam that had been holding back weeks of unspoken longing. His lips were firm, parting hers with a quiet, dominant intensity that sent a sudden rush of heat straight through her veins. Lily’s hand finally released his sleeve, her fingers sliding up the fabric of his shirt to clasp tightly at his shoulder, anchoring herself to him. She melted completely into the embrace, her heart hammering a wild, erratic rhythm against her ribs as she drank in the taste of him—rich, bitter wine and the clean, sharp scent of the midnight air.

Mihawk’s hand shifted from her cheek, his large fingers tangling into the silk of her damp hair, tilting her head back slightly to deepen the kiss. He pulled her smaller frame closer to his chest, his presence completely overwhelming, yet providing the absolute safety she had been begging for. For the first time since washing ashore, the terrifying void of her missing past didn't matter. The amnesia couldn't touch her here. When he finally parted from her lips, he didn't retreat. He kept his hand buried in her hair, resting his forehead against hers as they both breathed in the quiet, shared space. His golden eyes burned with a dark, fiercely protective fire in the moonlight. "I am holding you to that," Mihawk murmured against her skin, his thumb caressing her temple. "You remain here. With me." Lily offered a breathless, contented smile, her eyes heavy as she lay back down, her hand still resting over his heart. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered back. Kissing her deeply once more, her hand slipped down, pulling at his shirt, untucking it from his pants. Mihawk unbuttoned the bottom, letting the dress shirt slide from his shoulders to the ground. lily-y/n got closer, hooking her arms around his neck, and she brought him down to kiss her once more. 

Mihawk grasped her hips, sliding his hands up. He took her nightgown off, the cold air perking her buds right up. She turned her head slightly, embarrassed. Mihawk grabbed her cheeks, moving her face to look at him. "Don't shy away from me, you have to trust me," he said. "To be honest, I am just discovering this body as well, with no memory. I don't even know if I have done this before," she said. Mihawk took a moment to think. "Then we shall explore it together," he whispered, putting his knee on the bed. He took the initiative, his hand grasping her left breast, his thumb gently stroking over peaked nipples. He leaned his head and groaned, lips tugging, and his tongue lapping at her flesh. Circling her nipple with his tongue and nipping with just enough pressure to make her hiss. His fingers slide down, short, blunt nails scatching along her skin until his hand slides down her panties, the tips of his fingers dipping past silky folds. He could feel how wet she was and how easy he could stick his fingers in. y/n let out a muffled moan as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Mihawk nudged two fingers forward, smirking at the way her cunt seemed all too happy to welcome him inside. Fingers drag over her velvet walls until he finds that spot that made her toss her head back and gasp. He grins and bullies that spot, bending his fingers and rubbing. Letting out mews Lily/y/n grabbed his arm, clenching around him. Cumming with a startled cry, Mihawk pressed his lips against hers, swallowing each breathy whimper that spilled past her lips. He kisses her through her orgasm, his tongue curling around her own and gently sucking the slick muscle into his own mouth. 

Mihawk pulled back, sitting on his knees. He slowly undid his belt Lily/Y/n felt a tingle that shot through her belly and chest, excitement flowing through her to see what he was about to offer. Hawk's cock was already throbbing hard, spilling from his pants. She was surprised by the color, a faded coral, even peachy at best. His cock was long, curving just slightly. "Now it makes sense why you carry such a big sword, it's to balance the one in your pants," she said, reaching for his twitching manhood. She wrapped her fingers around his cock, jerking his warm skin back and forth, making his way towards her. It felt natural for her, grasping the fact that she was indeed not a virgin. Mihawk's breath hitched with each stroke of his cock, Lily/y/n moved her thumb over his tip, his precum sticking to her thumb. Mihawk reached out, grabbing the back of her head. He pulled her into a deep kiss while y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her back on the bed. Mihawk held himself up with one arm and with the other guided his cock to her entrance. His brows furrowed as he looked down at cock holding his shoulders as he shoved his cock into her, stretching her to mold around him. y/n gasped, her nails digging into his skin, hissing at the pain. He didn't move at first, glancing down at the way her lip quivered, he suddenly kissed her. Picking her up into his lap, his arms were wrapped around her, holding her as he slowly started to thrust up into her. Lily/y/n burried her face into his shoulder, rocking her hips with him. She wasn't uncomfortable, just stuffed; his tip was practically kissing her cervix. y/n held his shoulders, bouncing on his cock, throwing her head back. She leaned back on her hands, letting him have a better grip on her thighs as he pounded deep inside of her. The silent castle was filled with moans and skin-on-skin echoes. Mihawk leaned back a little, angling his cock inside her to hit it just right inside of her. Y/n let out a moan at the way his cock was thrusting inside of her, but above all, what really mattered was the way her clit was rubbing against his pelvis. "Mihawk, oh mihawk!" she cried out. Dracule was a quiet man, hissing at most with slight moans. Dracula suddenly grabbed her throat, squeezing the side as he fucked her harder. y/n held eyes locked on his, trusting him fully as she reached her high. Her pussy tightened around him, soaking his lap and balls in her juices. She was nearly too slippery to stay in. "I'm cumming, mihawk," she cried out, grunting, pounding harder, he rode out both their orgasms before crashing back onto the bed with her. 

[bittercandysweetrain]

Viper update smutt

The next part will be smut. I wish I could have added more detail, but I have been really busy. However, I doubt you will be disappointed in the next part hope you enjoy.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x reader (Viper pt.6)

Deep within the castle’s private study, the only illumination came from a single green-shaded desk lamp. Mihawk sat surrounded by old bounty logs, maritime maps, and encrypted reports on underworld syndicates. Yet, after hours of searching, his logs yielded nothing substantial on a pirate leader named "Belle" or an operative using the Lily of the Valley as a signature. The lack of information was telling in itself. It meant whoever she was, her existence was scrubbed cleanly from standard pirate records—or she belonged to an organization that existed entirely outside the jurisdiction of the Marines. Deciding to pull on a different thread, Mihawk reached for the purple Den Den Mushi sitting on the corner of his desk. He dialed a highly classified, unlisted frequency. The snail blinked, mimicking a slow, rhythmic ringing sound before its eyes suddenly flew open, taking on a lazy, cheerful expression. The shell emitted a rowdy burst of laughter and background music before a familiar, boisterous voice cut through the line. "Mihawk! To what do I owe the pleasure? It’s not like you to call out of the blue unless you're looking for a duel, or if you finally ran out of that high-end wine of yours!" Shanks laughed, the clinking of sake cups echoing clearly over the transponder. "Shanks," Mihawk said, his tone deadpan and cutting straight through the noise. "I am not calling for pleasantries. I have a question regarding a faction on the Grand Line." "Oh? The Great Hawk Eye needs information from me? Now I'm intrigued," Shanks chuckled, the background noise dimming slightly as if he were stepping away from his crew's party. "Shoot. What's on your mind?" "Do you know of any pirate crews, underworld brokers, or shadow organizations associated with the Lily of the Valley flower? Or any faction operating under a leader or codename called 'Belle'?"

The line went quiet for a moment. The Den Den Mushi's expression turned uncharacteristically serious, its brow furrowing as Shanks pondered the request. "The Lily of the Valley... and 'Belle'?" Shanks muttered thoughtfully. "No, nothing immediately springs to mind. There are a few small-time crews in the West Blue with floral names, but nothing big enough to warrant your attention. Why the sudden interest, Mihawk? It’s completely unlike you to dig into minor underworld names." Mihawk closed a heavy leather logbook with a soft thud. "A woman washed ashore on Kuraigana Island a few weeks ago. Her ship was completely obliterated by a rogue tsunami. Her memory is entirely gone, but her body possesses the flawless muscle memory of a highly trained operative. The only clues she possesses are a tattoo of those specific flower bells on her forearm, and the name 'Belle' which she muttered in her sleep." There was a sudden, sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, followed by a stunned silence. Then, the Den Den Mushi’s face twisted into a massive, wicked grin, its eyes crinkling with pure amusement. "Wait, wait, wait..." Shanks’s voice returned, practically dripping with playful disbelief. "Did I hear you correctly? A woman? At your castle? Living with you?" "She is a castaway I am temporarily harboring until I determine her threat level," Mihawk replied, his voice dropping an octave into a cold warning. "Oh, come on! Harboring a threat level? Mihawk, don't tell me you finally snapped out there in that gloomy old castle and kidnapped a woman!" Shanks burst out laughing, completely ignoring the swordsman's icy demeanor. "Are you holding her hostage? Because let's be honest, buddy, that's the only way a woman would ever look in your direction, let alone stay under the same roof as you! What did you do, scare her into staying?" Mihawk’s golden eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. His forehead visibly twitched. Without uttering another syllable, he reached out and slammed the receiver back onto the cradle. Clack. The Den Den Mushi’s eyes instantly went droopy and asleep, cutting Shanks off mid-laugh. Mihawk leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer irritation. Calling the Red-Haired Yonko had been a mistake. But as he stared back at the blank pages of his notebook, his mind returned to the reality of the situation. Shanks didn't know the name. The Marines didn't know the name. Whoever "Belle" was, she was a ghost.

Leaving the study, Mihawk walked the quiet, vaulted corridors back toward the library. The irritation from Shanks's call dissolved back into his usual calm composure. He opened the heavy double doors silently. The fire in the hearth had burned down to a deep, crimson glow, casting a soft warmth over the room. There, on the thick rug before the fireplace, lay Lily. She had fallen asleep exactly how he had observed her these past few days—flat on her belly, her ankles crossed loosely in the air, though they had now relaxed onto the floor. The heavy copy of Dracula was still open beneath her forearms, her cheek resting against the edge of the parchment. Her hair had partially tumbled out of its quick, elegant bun, dark silk framing her peaceful face. Mihawk stood over her for a long moment, his golden eyes sweeping over her relaxed form. In sleep, the dangerous precision of the shadow operative vanished entirely, leaving only the vulnerable castaway who preferred bitter coffee and knew how to fix a broken stew. He knelt down, carefully closing the book so the pages wouldn't bend, and set it on the nearby table. Then, with a fluid, effortless movement, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her off the rug. She stirred slightly at the sudden shift in weight, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips as she instinctively leaned into the warmth of his chest. Her small hands clutched faintly at the fabric of his dark shirt. Mihawk’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second at her proximity, but he maintained his steady, rhythmic stride as he carried her out of the library. He walked up the grand staircase and down the long residential wing, his boots making no sound against the stone. Reaching her bedchamber, he nudged the door open with his foot and stepped into the dark room. He lay her down gently onto the plush mattress. Lily stirred in her sleep. Dracula pulled back off the bed, turning on his heels to leave. Lily grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, "Don't go," she whispered, "please stay with me..." Dracula turned his head, glancing back at her, "What is it that you want of me?" He asked, "I-I don't know, I just want you to stay here with me," she said, "Please..."

Warning, the next part will be smutty...

[bittercandysweetrain]

(Dracule story Viper update)

The next two parts go hand in hand, with the second part being a smut scene. Hope you enjoy the different style of smut in that scene, each character definitely has to have different styles, so enjoy.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x reader (Viper) pt.5

The castle was dead silent when the grandfather clock in the grand hall chimed three times. It was the middle of the night, an hour when the rest of the world was buried deep in sleep, but Lily found herself wide awake. The heavy, suffocating weight of her blank mind always pressed harder in the dark. Unable to rest, she had drawn a hot bath in the sprawling, stone-walled washroom, seeking solace in the steam. The only illumination came from a few flickering candles placed on the marble ledge, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. Lily sank deep into the clawfoot tub, the near-scalding water swirling up to her collarbones. Through the quiet, a soft, haunting melody began to drift from her lips. She didn't know the name of the song, nor did she know where she had heard it, but the notes flowed out of her naturally. She hummed a low, melancholy tune that echoed softly against the high stone arches—a song that felt like a secret kept between her and the shadows. It was a strange time for anyone to bathe, but the nocturnal rhythm felt entirely natural to her, as if her body was hardwired to thrive only when the rest of the world was asleep.Lifting her right arm from the water, she let the droplets trail down her skin as she stared at the dark ink etched into her forearm. The delicate, drooping white bells of the Lily of the Valley caught the warm candlelight. She traced the curved stem with a wet fingertip, staring intensely at the floral design. "Belle," she whispered into the empty, steaming room. The name left her lips before she could even think about it. It wasn't Lily. It was a different word entirely—one that felt buried so deeply under the amnesia that it had only slipped out because the middle of the night had let her guard down. She stared at the tattoo, her heart quickening slightly. Belle. Was it a name? A code? A piece of a past life she had desperately loved, or a fragment of the woman she was trying to find? She repeated it silently in her mind, letting the melody she was humming fade into a contemplative silence, waiting for the empty castle walls to give her an answer.

Mihawk walked the darkened corridors with silent, measured steps, a fresh towel slung over his shoulder. The nocturnal hours were usually his alone, but as he neared the washroom, the faint, haunting melody of her humming drifted through the heavy wood of the door. He paused, his golden eyes narrowing in the dim light. He hadn't expected her to be awake, let alone bathing at such an hour. He was about to turn back and use a different washroom when her voice cut through the soft echo of the song, whispering a single word into the silence. "Belle." Mihawk stood perfectly still in the shadows outside the door, his mind instantly turning the name over. Belle. It wasn't the name she had been using, nor was it a word she had spoken since washing ashore. He began to mentally scan his vast knowledge of the Grand Line's factions, looking for a thread to connect to the clue. Before he could retreat, the heavy wooden door suddenly swung inward. A wave of warm, flower-scented steam spilled out into the cold stone corridor, and Lily was standing there, wrapped securely in a thick linen robe, her hair still damp. She flinched slightly in surprise, but her expression quickly cleared when she saw him. "Mihawk," she said softly, her voice carrying a trace of relief. "I was just about to come and see if you were awake." Mihawk kept his expression unreadable, though his eyes sharply noted the lingering vulnerability in her gaze. "I am always awake at this hour. Is something wrong?" Lily looked down at her forearm, where the ink of the lily was hidden beneath her sleeve, before looking back up into his intense, golden eyes. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, the weight of the name heavy on her tongue. "I... I just remembered something. A word. A name, perhaps," she said, searching his face for any sign of recognition. "Do you know any pirates or organizations with 'Belle' as a leader? Or maybe a ship with that name? Does it mean anything to you?" Mihawk’s gaze locked onto hers, the mystery deepening as he stood outside the misty doorway, carefully weighing how much of the truth he was willing to reveal. 

Mihawk’s expression remained an absolute, unreadable mask. Not a single muscle in his face betrayed the sharp spike of calculation running through his mind. "Belle," he repeated slowly, letting the name roll off his tongue with a perfectly manufactured indifference. He leaned slightly against the stone wall, looking down at her through half-lidded eyes. "No. It does not strike a chord. The Grand Line is flooded with thousands of petty crews and self-proclaimed leaders, but none of notable status bear that name." Lily’s shoulders dropped a fraction, a quiet wave of disappointment washing over her features. "I see... I just hoped it might be a clue." "A passing thought in the middle of the night is rarely a solid foundation," Mihawk said, his voice smooth and steady as he deliberately downplayed the discovery to keep her from digging further on her own. "Do not force it. If it is important, it will return when your mind is ready. For now, you should return to your room and rest." She nodded softly, offering a faint, tired smile. "You're right. Goodnight, Mihawk." "Goodnight." He watched her walk down the dimly lit corridor until the door to her bedchamber clicked shut. The moment she was out of sight, the indifference vanished from Mihawk's features, replaced by a cold, sharp intensity. He didn't go to take his shower. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully back toward the grand library. He needed to dig deeper. If "Belle" was a name, a code, or a hidden entity operating in the shadows of the world, he would find the truth—starting with the historical texts and global intelligence logs hidden away in his private collection.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x Reader (Viper) pt.4

Days bled into one another, and Mihawk’s watchful gaze never left her. He studied her like an intricate text, observing which sections of the library she frequented. She bypassed the standard tales of adventure and romantic fiction entirely, gravitating instead toward deep regional geographies, tactical treatises, and medicinal botany. One evening, while the rain pattered softly against the glass, Mihawk’s eyes drifted to her exposed forearm. "The flower on your arm," he said, breaking the quiet. "The Lily of the Valley. Have you thought any more on why it is there?" Lily traced the delicate ink lines with her thumb. "I’ve thought about it every day. I wonder if it was given to me by someone close to me—a reminder of a home or a person I loved. But when I look at it..." She paused, her voice dropping. "It feels more like a representation of myself. Beautiful, but isolated." "And toxic, as I told you before," Mihawk added smoothly, his golden eyes tracking her expression. "A fitting emblem for a shadow." The next afternoon, the endless rain finally gave way to a crisp, gray fog. Mihawk took her out for a walk through the sprawling, overgrown gardens of the estate—a labyrinth of dead briars and wild, unchecked flora. As they walked, Lily suddenly stopped. She knelt down in the damp earth, her eyes fixed on a pale, knotted root pushing through the soil. "You shouldn't let this grow so close to the paths," she said naturally, her tone shifting into something clinical and cold. Mihawk paused, looking down at her. "And why is that?" "It’s a specific variation of water hemlock," Lily replied, her fingers hovering just millimeters above the stem without touching it. "If ingested, even in a microscopic dose, it doesn't kill instantly. It causes severe fatigue, muscle paralysis, and slow, agonizing internal bleeding. It looks remarkably like wild parsnip. Someone careless could easily mistake it." Mihawk stood perfectly still, his silhouette cutting a dark line through the fog. "A very precise diagnosis for a casual observer." "I..." Lily blinked, suddenly looking at her own hands in horror as she stood back up. She rubbed her temples, a sudden flash of frustration crossing her face. "I don't know how I know that. It just... came to me when I looked at it." Mihawk’s mind whirled with calculation. A masterfully crafted blade hidden in his armory, flawless martial footwork, a deep knowledge of lethal botany, and a poisonous tattoo. The puzzle pieces were mapping out a terrifying picture.

That night at dinner, Mihawk decided to test her boundaries. He took over the kitchen prep under the guise of assisting, laying out an array of fresh herbs, roots, and spices on the heavy wooden table. Among the innocent bundles of parsley, rosemary, and thyme, he carefully introduced a small, crushed portion of a rare, toxic leaf he kept in his conservatory—one that, when cooked down, perfectly mimicked the aroma of bay leaves but caused severe, violent illness to anyone who consumed it. He stepped back, crossing his arms as Lily tied her apron on and approached the table. "I thought we might try a heavy stew tonight," Mihawk said evenly, his golden eyes locked on her hands. "I gathered the herbs myself." Lily smiled, thanking him, and began sorting through the bundles. Her hands moved with their usual fluid efficiency, tossing rosemary and thyme into the pot. But the moment her fingers brushed the laced bundle, she froze. Her eyes narrowed. She didn't sniff it, nor did she panic. Instead, she picked up a single leaf with the absolute tip of her fingers, holding it up to the candlelight. Her expression hardened into a mask of pure, unadulterated coldness—a glimpse of the woman she used to be. "This isn't a spice, Mihawk," she said, her voice dropping into a dangerously low, authoritative register that sent a thrill of intrigue through the swordsman. She turned her head, her gaze piercing right into his. "This is a cardiac irritant. If I put this in the stew, we would both be bedridden with severe stomach hemorrhaging by midnight." She dropped the leaf back onto the table, crossing her arms as she stared him down. "Did your supplier try to poison you, or are you testing me?" Mihawk didn't flinch. A slow, dark smile pulled at the corners of his lips—the most genuine expression of satisfaction he had shown since she washed ashore.

"A test," Mihawk corrected himself smoothly, his tone perfectly even as he covered his tracks. "And a confirmation. You display an extraordinary understanding of medicine, anatomy, and lethal botany." He gestured vaguely toward the discarded, toxic leaves on the table. "Most civilians would have tossed those into the pot without a second thought. But you recognized it instantly. I suspect that before you washed ashore, you held a position of significant medical authority." Lily let her arms drop to her sides, the cold, authoritative mask fading back into a look of quiet confusion. "A medical authority? You think I was a doctor?" "A doctor for a pirate crew, most likely," Mihawk stated plainly, his golden eyes locked on her face. "You possess a cold, unshakable precision under pressure, an advanced knowledge of poisons, and a familiarity with a blade's movement. On the Grand Line, those traits belong to a ship's surgeon—someone who must keep their head clear while tending to violent wounds in the middle of a battle." Lily looked down at the herbs, her mind racing as she tried to force a memory to surface. A doctor. It felt closer to the truth than a simple noblewoman, but deep down, a quiet instinct told her that she hadn't been saving lives in her past—she had been taking them. "A pirate doctor..." she murmured softly, testing the weight of the words. She looked back up at him, a faint, wry smile touching her lips. "If I were a doctor, I hope I was a good one." "You knew how to keep yourself alive," Mihawk replied quietly, picking up the basket of safe herbs and setting them closer to her. "For now, that is enough. Finish the stew." 

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x reader (Viper) pt.3

The following afternoon, the dark clouds returned, casting a gloomy, atmospheric light over the castle’s outer courtyard. Standing by the tall arched windows of the corridor, Lily looked down to find Mihawk alone in the center of the stone grounds. He didn't have his massive black blade, Yoru, unclasped. Instead, he held a simple, heavy training sword. She watched in absolute fascination as he began to move. It wasn't the brutal, chaotic hacking of a typical pirate; it was a display of flawless, lethal perfection. He shifted his weight seamlessly, his boots gliding across the stone as the sword cut through the air with blinding speed and mathematical precision. Every step, every twist of his torso, and every elegant extension of his arm flowed into the next without a single wasted motion. It’s like a dance, Lily thought to herself, her eyes tracking the mesmerizing rhythm of his form. It was a beautiful, dangerous waltz with an invisible opponent. Sensing her gaze, Mihawk suddenly stopped, lowering the training weapon. He turned his head, his sharp golden eyes locking onto her figure in the window. Instead of motioning for her to leave, he held his hand out toward the courtyard, silently inviting her down. When she stepped onto the stone courtyard, the wind picked up, carrying the crisp scent of rain. Mihawk tossed the wooden training sword aside, where it clattered against the stone. "You were watching closely," he noted, stepping toward her. "It didn't look like combat," Lily replied softly, meeting him in the center of the courtyard. "It looked like a performance. A very dangerous dance." "A duel is a dance," Mihawk said, a rare, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "It requires two people moving in perfect synchronization, predicting the next step before it happens. Tell me, Lily, do your hands remember how to dance?" Before she could answer, he stepped into her space, his right hand resting firmly against the small of her back while his left caught her hand, lifting it to the proper frame. The sudden proximity brought back the intense heat from the library, but this time, it was charged with movement. Without music, guided only by the rising wind and the distant rumble of the sea, Mihawk took the lead. He stepped forward, sweeping her into a slow, deliberate tango. Lily caught the rhythm instantly. Her body didn't hesitate; her feet moved with a flawless, innate grace that perfectly matched his long strides. But as the tempo of their movements quickened, her natural instincts began to take over. When Mihawk spun her, she didn't just follow the traditional, soft steps of a civilian court dance. She executed a sharp, fluid pivot, her weight shifting with perfect balance, her free hand sweeping through the air with a striking, rapid precision. Her movements were elegant, yes, but underneath the grace was a distinct, calculated efficiency—the sharp, lethal posture of someone trained in high-stakes evasion and martial footwork. Mihawk’s eyes widened slightly as he caught her back against his chest, holding her tightly in the final dip of the dance. His grip on her waist tightened. He had been testing her, and her body had just given away a massive piece of the puzzle. He stared down into her eyes, his voice low and intensely sharp. "That is not the style of a noblewoman. You move with a rhythm that belongs to the shadows."

Lily didn’t panic. She didn’t pull away from his grip or look down in shame. Instead, she stayed frozen in the dip, her chest rising and falling against his as she stared up into his piercing golden eyes. A profound, quiet vulnerability washed over her features, replacing the sharp precision of the dance. "The shadows..." she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the wind. She slowly stood up, stepping out of the frame of the dance as she looked down at her own hands. "I wonder, was I someone bad, Mihawk? Or was I someone important?" Mihawk watched her closely, noting the genuine bewilderment in her eyes. Her body carried the undeniable muscle memory of a lethal operative, yet her mind was entirely innocent of the weight. Before he could answer, the sky darkened to a deep, bruising violet, and the first heavy drops of rain began to pelt the stone courtyard. The storm was finally breaking. "Go back inside," Mihawk commanded softly, his tone turning practical but not unkind. "The storm is getting worse, and you've only just recovered your strength. Return to the castle." She looked at him, wanting to press for more answers, but nodded quietly. Gathering the skirts of her gown, she turned and walked back toward the safety of the grand stone doors. Mihawk didn't follow her. Instead, he pulled the brim of his black hat lower over his eyes and walked toward the violent shoreline. The tsunami had shattered her ship days ago, but the aggressive tides of the storm were turning the seabed over, dragging hidden things back to the surface. If her body held the secrets of a shadow, the wreckage of her vessel might hold the key to her name. He navigated the slick, jagged rocks of the reef with practiced ease, his sharp eyes scanning the dark surf. Amidst the swirling foam and the splinters of black wood, something metallic caught the dark light. Mihawk waded out into the crashing waves, reaching into a crevice between two sharp stones. His gloved fingers wrapped around a hilt. He pulled it from the sea, letting the saltwater drain from the scabbard. It wasn't a standard pirate cutlass, nor was it the heavy broadsword of a Marine officer. It was a beautiful, masterfully crafted sword—slim, lethal, and perfectly balanced for high-speed, precise combat. It was a weapon meant for a highly trained assassin, disguised in elegance. Mihawk traced the guard of the blade, his golden eyes narrowing. He had his proof. Lily was no ordinary castaway; she was a viper hidden in a garden of lilies.

Mihawk stood on the storm-lashed shore, the rain streaming down his face as he looked from the elegant, lethal blade in his hands back toward the looming silhouette of his castle. He didn't bring it to her. If she truly was a viper trained in the art of deception, showing her the weapon might force a hand she wasn't ready to play. And if her amnesia was genuine, the sudden weight of a killer's blade might fracture the fragile peace she had found here. With a swift, silent movement, Mihawk concealed the masterfully crafted sword beneath his heavy black coat, keeping it flat against his spine as he scaled the slick cliffs. When he returned to the castle, he didn't head to the library or the grand hall where Lily was waiting. Instead, he navigated the narrow, forgotten corridors of the lower levels, stepping into a private, locked armory where he kept his personal collection of historical blades. He placed her sword on a velvet-lined rack in the deepest corner of the room, throwing a heavy cloth over it to obscure its distinct shape. He stared at the hidden shape for a long moment, his golden eyes calculating. "Let us see what else the shadows teach you, Lily," he murmured to the empty room. When he finally entered the library a short while later, dried off and wearing a fresh shirt, he found her sitting precisely where he had left her, staring into the dying embers of the fire. She looked up, her eyes wide with a quiet, anxious hope. "Did you find anything?" she asked softly. Mihawk walked over to the sideboard, pouring himself a small glass of red wine. He kept his expression perfectly unreadable, a masterful mask of indifference. "Nothing but splinters and stone," he lied smoothly, turning to face her. "The sea kept whatever secrets your ship held." A small, sad sigh escaped her lips, but she nodded, accepting his words without a hint of suspicion. "I see. Thank you for looking, Mihawk." "Do not dwell on it," he replied, taking a seat across from her. "The past has a habit of surfacing when it is least expected. For now, you remain here."

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x reader (Viper) pt.2

By the fifth morning, the quiet routine shifted from the library to the lower levels of the castle. Her strength had fully returned, the color rushing back into her cheeks, and with it came a restless energy. She could no longer justify sitting idly by the fire while Mihawk provided for her. Mihawk entered the expansive, stone-walled kitchen expecting to prepare his usual solitary meal, only to pause at the threshold. The space was alive with a warmth it hadn’t seen in years. Lily had already gathered ingredients from the pantry and the fresh stores brought in by the island's rare shipments. Her hair was swept up into that same effortless, elegant bun she wore while reading, and she moved between the iron stove and the heavy wooden prep table with a striking, fluid economy of movement. On the counter sat fresh tomatoes, garlic, crushed red pepper, and a bowl of fresh clams purging themselves in salted water. "I hoped you wouldn't mind," Lily said, looking up with a soft flush of color as she neatly sliced through a garlic clove with a heavy kitchen knife. Her technique was flawless—rapid, precise, and entirely fearless. "You've been an incredibly generous host. I wanted to make you dinner." Mihawk leaned against the stone doorframe, crossing his arms. His golden eyes tracked the rhythm of her knife. "And what exactly are you preparing?" "I don't know," she replied intuitively, though she paused for a fraction of a second, a faint trace of frustration flickering in her eyes as she realized she didn't know where she had learned it. "Pasta with fresh tomatoes, garlic, and clams. But..." She glanced toward a shelf of dark glass bottles. "It requires a very specific element to truly balance the acidity of the tomatoes and bring out the sweetness of the seafood." Without a word, Mihawk walked past her toward his private rack, selecting a pristine, heavy bottle of high-end white wine—a dry, crisp vintage he kept carefully guarded. He brought it over, setting it on the table alongside a corkscrew. Lily looked at the expensive label, then up at him, raising an eyebrow. "You trust me with this?" "I trust a chef who understands that a dish is only as good as its weakest component," Mihawk murmured, a rare, amused glint in his eyes. "Do not waste it." She smiled, a bright, confident thing that briefly cut through the gloomy atmosphere of the castle. With practiced ease, she uncorked the bottle. She didn't just pour it into the pan; she used it with absolute mastery. When the garlic and red pepper flakes began to sizzle beautifully in the olive oil, she tossed in the fresh tomatoes and the clams, immediately deglazing the pan with a generous, perfectly measured splash of the high-end wine. The kitchen instantly filled with a rich, intoxicating aroma—the sharp scent of alcohol burning off, leaving behind a deep, fragrant steam of garlic, sweet tomatoes, and clean ocean air. As she let the sauce simmer, her fluid grace and casual mastery of the kitchen left Mihawk standing in a rare state of quiet fascination. She was a woman without a past, yet her hands remembered a life of high refinement, sharp knives, and exquisite taste. After the pasta was finished and the dishes were cleared, the kitchen remained warm, filled with the comforting, lingering scent of their dinner. Lily wasn't done, however. She turned her attention to a small, cooled cake resting on a wire rack on the prep table, ready for its finishing touches. "You're making a dessert as well?" Mihawk asked, entering the kitchen after retrieving a fresh glass of wine.

"I wanted to try something," Lily said, holding a pastry bag filled with dark, rich chocolate icing. She lifted the bag, intending to pipe elegant designs onto the cake, but her fingers suddenly faltered. The lingering weakness from her time at sea—coupled with a slight tremor in her hands—made it difficult to maintain a steady hold. The plastic bag slipped slightly in her grip, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips as she struggled to exert the right amount of pressure. Before she could ruin the smooth surface of the cake, a tall shadow fell over her. Mihawk stepped up directly behind her, his sheer size completely enveloping her smaller frame. The warmth of his chest radiated against her back. Without a word, he reached around her, his large hands gently but firmly covering her own. His fingers guided hers, repositioning her grip to the very top of the pastry bag while his other hand supported her wrist to steady the tremor. "You are forcing it from the middle," Mihawk murmured, his deep, resonant voice vibrating right against her ear. "Apply the pressure from the top, slowly, and let your wrist guide the movement. Like a blade, it requires control, not force." Following his lead, Lily squeezed gently. A perfect, elegant swirl of chocolate icing bloomed onto the cake. Her heart did a sudden, erratic flutter at his proximity, but she kept her focus on the movement of their joined hands. "What kind of cake is this?" Mihawk asked quietly, watching the rich frosting take shape under their combined guidance. "The ingredients you gathered were quite specific." "It's a Black Forest cake," Lily replied softly, a faint flush warming her cheeks as she leaned into his steady support. "It's an idea I got while reading Dracula these past few days. Dark chocolate, sharp cherries, and heavy cream. It felt... fitting for this castle. And for you." Mihawk’s golden eyes flickered down to her profile, a rare, profound softness touching his expression. He didn't pull his hands away, content to stay exactly as they were, helping her finish the dark, indulgent creation in the quiet, firelit warmth of the kitchen. 

The grand library was quiet save for the rhythmic crackle of the hearth as they sat across from each other, a dark slice of the Black Forest cake resting on the small table between them. Mihawk took a slow, deliberate bite, letting the flavors settle. "It is surprisingly balanced," he remarked, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. "Most desserts are an assault of sugar, but this... the bitterness of the dark chocolate cuts through the cream, and the cherries add just enough acidity. It is exceptionally well-made." Lily smiled softly, leaning back into her leather chair. "I’m glad you approve. I must have made it that way instinctively. I’ve realized over the last few days that I don't particularly care for overly sweet things. I prefer bitter flavors. Dark coffee, rich cocoa, sharp wines." "A refined palate," Mihawk murmured, his golden eyes locked on her face. He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly as it focused on the corner of her mouth. A tiny, stray smudge of dark chocolate icing sat just at the edge of her lower lip. Without a word, Mihawk leaned forward. The space between them shrank instantly. He lifted his hand, his thumb bare of its usual leather glove, brushing gently against the corner of her lip to wipe away the sweet mark. His touch was remarkably tender for a man who wielded the world's most devastating blade. Lily froze, her breath catching in her throat as his thumb lingered for a fraction of a second against her skin. The air in the library grew thick with a sudden, heavy tension, a magnetic closeness pulling them together. For a moment, neither of them moved. But Mihawk slowly drew his hand back, his expression guarded, intentionally letting the moment breathe. The unspoken bond between them deepened, a quiet understanding that didn't need to be rushed.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Mihawk x Reader (Viper) pt.1

The sky over Kuraigana Island didn't just darken; it bruised. Inky, violet clouds rolled heavily across the horizon, swallowing the last remnants of afternoon light until the sea and the sky bled into a single, suffocating shadow. Dracule Mihawk stood at the edge of the jagged cliffs, his dark coat whipping violently around his ankles in the rising wind. He didn’t mind the storms. In fact, he preferred them. The violence of nature was predictable, a stark and welcome contrast to the messy, chaotic whims of humanity. Below, the ocean thrashed against the sharp reef, throwing white foam high into the air. He was about to turn back toward the quiet sanctuary of his castle when a flash of white caught his sharp, golden gaze. It wasn't sea foam. It was too solid, too rhythmic in the way it rolled with the tide. Mihawk’s eyes narrowed. With a fluid, effortless leap, he descended the rocky cliff face, landing silently on the black sand of the beach. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and salt. He walked toward the shoreline, his boots sinking slightly into the wet earth, until he stood over the intruder. It was a woman. She lay face down in the surf, the violent waves aggressively tugging at her tattered clothing as if trying to drag her back into the depths. Her small vessel was entirely gone, reduced to splinters of wood scattered across the dark shore—the undeniable casualty of a tsunami that had bypassed the main shipping lanes. Mihawk knelt, his gloved hand catching her shoulder to flip her over. Her skin was freezing, cold as marble, and a nasty, purple contusion was already forming near her temple where she had clearly struck the reef. She was breathing, but it was shallow and ragged. As he lifted her into his arms, her damp sleeve shifted. There, stark and elegant against the pale skin of her forearm, was a beautifully detailed ink tattoo. Lily of the Valley. Mihawk stared at the delicate, drooping white bells for a fraction of a second. A beautiful flower, but a highly toxic one. A strange choice of ink for someone who looked so fragile in the jaws of a storm."An unfortunate place to shipwreck, stranger," Mihawk murmured, his deep voice cutting through the roar of the thunder. Pulling her securely against his chest, he turned on his heel and walked back toward the castle just as the sky finally broke open, unleashing a torrential downpour. The sky over Kuraigana Island didn’t just darken; it bruised ominously. Inky, violet clouds rolled heavily across the horizon, swirling and coiling like storm-tossed serpents, swallowing the last remnants of the waning afternoon light until the sea and sky bled into a single, suffocating shadow. The air hung thick and charged, crackling with the promise of impending violence. 

The rhythm of the rain against the tall, arched windows of the castle had become a steady, dull hum by the time the fever finally broke. For two days, the stranger lay in the massive canopy bed, drifting through a restless, sweat-soaked sleep while the storm outside raged and eventually began to tire. When her eyes finally flickered open, her vision was a blurred smear of deep mahogany, heavy velvet curtains, and the flickering orange glow of a dying fireplace. Her head throbbed with a fierce, blinding pressure that made her groan, her hand instantly lifting to her temple. "I wouldn't move so quickly." The deep, resonant voice came from the shadows beside the bed. She gasped, flinching back into the pillows as her eyes violently adjusted to the dim light. Sitting in a high-backed leather armchair right beside her was a man. He sat with an unshakeable, imposing stillness, one leg crossed over the other. He wore a dark, wine-colored shirt, open at the collar, and his piercing golden eyes seemed to cut right through the gloom of the room. He had been watching her, patient and entirely unmoving, for a long time. "Where..." Her voice was a dry, raspy scrape. She swallowed hard, trying to force her throat to work. "Where am I? Who are you?" Mihawk didn't answer immediately. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his intense gaze studying the erratic rise and fall of her chest. "You are on Kuraigana Island. My estate. I found you washed up on the reef two days ago after a tsunami tore through the sector." Panic, cold and sharp, suddenly flared in her chest. She looked around the massive, gothic room, then down at her own hands. She tried to reach backward into her mind, looking for a harbor, a name, a face—anything to anchor her to reality. But there was nothing. Her mind was a vast, terrifying void. The harder she tried to grasp at a memory, the more it slipped through her fingers like smoke. "I don't..." she whispered, her breathing hitching as tears of sheer frustration pricked the corners of her eyes. She gripped the heavy blankets tightly. "I don't know who I am. I don't remember anything." Mihawk’s expression didn't change, but the sharp intensity in his golden eyes softened by a fraction. He had seen all manners of men break under pressure, but the raw, genuine terror in her face wasn't something that could be easily faked.

He stood up, his tall silhouette casting a long shadow across the bed as he poured a cup of warm, steaming tea from a silver tray on the nightstand. He extended it toward her. "Drink," he commanded softly. Her hands shook violently as she reached out, taking the warm porcelain. As she pulled the cup close, her tattered sleeve fell back, exposing the skin of her forearm. Mihawk’s gaze fell to the delicate ink etched into her flesh. He pointed a gloved finger toward the tattoo. "You brought no logbooks, no identification, and your ship was reduced to toothpicks on my shores," Mihawk said, his deep voice filling the quiet spaces of the room. "But you have a Lily of the Valley tattooed right there." She looked down at her arm, staring at the small, drooping white bells as if seeing them for the first time. "A lily..." "A beautiful flower, though entirely toxic if crossed," Mihawk murmured, a phantom of a smile ghosting his lips. He stepped back toward his chair, folding his arms. "Until your memory decides to return to you, I will call you Lily. And I am Dracule Mihawk." She repeated the name in a whisper, testing the weight of it on her tongue. "Lily." It felt distant, yet safe in this strange, shadowed sanctuary. She looked up at the intimidating man who had pulled her from the sea, feeling the first quiet spark of trust form in the darkness.

[bittercandysweetrain]

New series update!!!!!

In our new series, we have the handsome Dracule Mihawk x Reader Amnesia. Of course, I do love adding smut to my romance stories as well. I am so thankful for you guys liking and reading, and I hope you like my future stories.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Shanks x reader (daddy issues) Finale!!!

y/n lay back against a mountain of pillows, her human features pale and damp with sweat, her breathing finally slowing into a rhythmic, exhausted calm. Her kitsune ears flickered at the sound of the first small, piercing cry that broke the silence. Marco, his sleeves rolled up and his expression uncharacteristically tender, moved with the steady hands of a doctor. He carefully wrapped the first infant—a boy with a shock of dark hair—in a soft, clean cloth. "Steady now, Red-Hair," Marco murmured, his voice low as he turned toward Shanks. He stepped forward and placed the boy into Shanks's single arm, guiding the tuck of the captain’s elbow to ensure the child was secure. Shanks, the man who had stood unshaken against Emperors and Admirals, looked down at the tiny life in his arm with a face full of raw, terrified wonder. His eyes grew glassy as he watched his son’s small hand curl into a fist against his white shirt. He didn't speak; he simply let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of his new reality settling into his chest. Across the room, a second, softer cry emerged. Marco turned back to the makeshift bassinet, his movements fluid and protective. He lifted the second twin—a girl with a tuft of hair that already shimmered with a hint of red—and cradled her against his chest for a long moment. He looked down at her with the pride of an uncle who had already vowed to be her shield, before crossing the room toward the bed. "She’s got your spirit, I think," Marco said softly, a faint smile touching his lips as he leaned over y/n. He carefully lowered the baby girl into y/n’s waiting arms. As y/n pulled her daughter close, the girl immediately quieted, nuzzling into the warmth of her mother. Shanks moved to the edge of the bed, sitting heavily so he could press his shoulder against y/n’s. He looked from the son in his arms to the daughter in hers, then finally to her face. He leaned in, pressing a lingering, salt-tinged kiss to her forehead. "We did it," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "They’re perfect, Ace, and? hmm" y/n smiled "you can choose" she whispered tiredly "D/N" Shanks aid "that's perfect" y/n said marco smiling at the couple. 

2yrs later ~ The sea breeze was exceptionally gentle the day they returned to the isolated island, two years after the twins' birth. The high grass on the cliffside rustled softly underfoot as y/n walked up the hill in her human form, carrying her two-year-old daughter balanced against her hip. Walking right beside her, holding her free hand with steady, toddler steps, was her son. Marco walked half a pace behind them, his hands in his pockets and a rare, soft expression relaxing his features as he watched the children navigate the path. When they reached the summit, the two massive graves of Whitebeard and Ace stood tall against the endless blue horizon. The headstones were immaculate, clearly well-tended by the remaining crew. Y/n knelt in the soft grass between the two markers, setting her daughter down beside her. Her son immediately stepped closer, his wide, curious eyes looking up at the grand monuments.

"We're here," y/n whispered, her voice carrying a deep, quiet warmth as she touched the base of Whitebeard's stone. She looked at her toddlers, who were now idly reaching for the wild flowers growing at the gravesite. "Kids, this is your grandfather, Newgate. And this is your uncle, Ace." Marco stepped up, kneeling next to the little boy. He gently picked a small, bright yellow flower from the grass and handed it to the toddler, nodding toward Ace's grave. "Go on, little guy. Put it right there for your uncle." The boy blinked, copying Marco's gentle movements, and carefully laid the flower against the stone. Across from him, the little girl mimicked her brother, patting Whitebeard's marker with a tiny, sticky hand and letting out a happy, babbling sound that made y/n's chest tighten with a mix of grief and profound happiness. Marco rested a hand on the boy's head, his gaze drifting up to the sky. "They would have spoiled them rotten, y/n," he murmured, a faint, nostalgic smile pulling at his lips. "The old man would have had them riding on his shoulders by now, and Ace would be trying to teach your boy how to steal meat from the galley." Y/n let out a soft laugh, pulling both of her children close against her sides as they looked out at the sparkling sea. "I know. But they get to meet them now. They'll always know who watched over us." For a long time, the four of them just sat in the quiet sanctuary of the cliffside, the past and the future meeting in a perfect moment of peace.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Shanks x reader (daddy issues) pt.9.10

Month 9  Y/n found herself in a perplexing situation, unsure how it all began. It all started with a heated argument between Marco and Shanks that quickly escalated into something unexpected. The tension in the room was palpable, as both men exchanged fiery glances and sharp words, their frustration hanging thick in the air. Somehow, in the chaos of their confrontation, Y/n ended up sandwiched between them, caught in the crossfire of their heated debate. She felt the raw energy radiating off of Shanks, whose pent-up frustration was evident in his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. It was clear that he was struggling to contain his emotions; the heat of the moment was almost overwhelming.Y/n understood the influence of testosterone in situations like this, yet it was almost absurd that Shanks would allow Marco to remain in the same room while he was in such a volatile state. But oddly enough, she didn’t mind being there at all. The electric atmosphere was strangely thrilling, and even though she was surrounded by two fierce personalities, a part of her couldn't help but feel intrigued by the unfolding drama. "You're just spouting bullshit, angry that you can hear me making her moan, you're trying to get between us," Shanks shouted, "moan, you call that a moan? She used to scream with much less!" Marco said, smirking, "Enough!" Izou shouted as he opened the door, "You are acting like imbacils with y/n sandwiched between you both, it's utterly ridiculous!" Izou shouted Shanks and Marco stepped back. Y/n started laughing, "It is ridiculous, but honestly, I am quite pent up as well. Shanks and Marco are never going to stop fighting over who was better and whatnot, so I say, why don't we just have sex, then you both can show off?" she said, stepping beside Izou. "Are you crazy? I am not sharing you with him." Shanks said, "I didn't want to share you either, but I made sure to show Makino why I was worth more than her." y/n said, crossing her arms. Shanks stood there quietly. "One time, that's all I need. I can prove I am better than you, then never again do you understand." Y/n nodded in agreement. 

Warning Smut ~  Y/n looked at the three men. She wasn't scared; she knew these men well. "Let's not go crazy, but ease into it. I want to start with Izou," she said. Izou was more patient and gentle. Shanks took a breath as he sat down on the bed, leaning back on his one arm. "Okay," he said, "I'll allow it." Izou looked at Marco as he moved to stand behind her, his hand sliding up the nape of her neck, gripping her hair. He pulled her head back, kissing her neck, and slowly undressed her from her robes. Each piece dropped to the floor. Izou walked around, facing her. He pulled her hair up, tying it into a messy bun. Lowering his own robes to fall against his waist, he dropped down to his knees. Shanks watched intently as y/n took Izou's hand. He led her to Shanks. Y/n sat on his lap, unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his neck, and nipping at his collarbone. She forced him to lie back on the bed, slowly getting off his lap, she undid his belt and lowered his pants. Her fingers wrapping around his girthy cock, bending over, she slowly jerked her hand up and down, her tongue licking his tip in circles. Izou dropped down to his knees, spreading her open. The tip of his tongue flicked her clit vigorously, forcing her to release a moan as she blew shanks. The vibration against his cock felt good. Shanks hissed and, gripping her hair with one hand, she swallowed him down as far as she could, her nose brushing against his light pubic hair. "fuck" tilting his head back.

Marco stood up, his hand gripping his cock, stroking until he was rock hard. Once she was nice and wet, Izou pulled back, standing up, and he pulled her back off of Shanks. "What the fuck?" Shanks growled, "Show time." Marco said, "Get to the top of the bed, Shanks." y/n said Shanks was reluctant but did so, sitting on his knees as Marco lay in the spot he was just in. Izou helped y/n up onto Marco's lap, holding his cock she slid him into her soaking wet p*ssy. “Fuck, that feels so good,” Marco smirked. It was the curve in his cock that always hit the right spot when she was on top. "Hey, now," Shanks reminded her he was there. "Don't worry, baby, you have nothing to worry about," she said, smirking. She leaned forward, feeling Izou pushing his cock in the same hole, furrowing her brows, which was a tight fit, stretching her out. "Nyahh," she gasped once he managed to push his porcelain colored cock into her. Marco and Izou didn't mind sharing her hole. Marco leaned up, taking one of her large mounds into his mouth, the sweetness of her golden liquid gifting his taste buds. Her sultry eyes landed on Shanks. She smiled as she leaned over, taking his cock in her hand again, and she forced his cock into the back of her throat. tasting his hot, sweaty cock she bobbed her head up and down his length as fast as she could, gagging all the way as little tears started to pool in her eyes. Still, she persisted, wanting to make her fiancé feel good. Izou held her hips and started pulling out slowly, his thick length along with Marco's, prepping to be in sync. He only pulled out halfway before thrusting back inside, causing her to whine. Once he pushed in, Marco started to pull out the two men, switching back and forth, thrusting in and out of her frotting inside of her. Y/n pulled off of Shanks for a moment, watching his cock twitch in the open air. The way it throbbed and twitched made her pussy wetter than ever before. Diving between his legs, she took his balls into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his sack, tucking his balls. “Fuck-” He growled, grabbing at her hair even tighter, as her hand continued stroking his shaft. Izou's body was hunched over Y/n's, his hand pressing into the sides of her body, giving him the perfect leverage to fucking her nice and deep. Marco held her ass as he slammed his hips up into her. "Ahhh, Marco, Izou," she cried, her moans coming out strangled and choked from the way their cocks were assaulting her sweet spot. "You're taking us so good," Marco cooed, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Both he and Izou felt her cunt clench tightly around them. "F-fuck~" Marco chuckled, followed by his shanks gripping her hair tighter. "Don't forget your husband," He let out a hearty laugh before she went back to work, licking him from base to tip before swallowing him up again. With each movement upwards, she swirled her tongue around his aching tip. Shanks groaned happily. Shanks held her head as he rocked his hips, slamming himself down her throat. "You feel that? I'm so deep," Shanks cooed against her lips, feeling her throat's rapid constrictions tickle against him. "Fuck! I'm gonna cum" Shanks whined, holding her face against his pelvis as his thrust grew sloppy, trying to hold himself together. while Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head, her lids following, shutting around them. A knot formed in her belly, tightening itself around Marco and Izou. She arched her back, feeling the men's cocks pulsating at once. Marco, Izou, and Shanks were cumming one after the other. Shanks pulled back, finally falling back against the headboard as y/n gasped, coughing. Marco wrapped his arms around her, holding her, and Izou rested his head against her, all breathing heavily. Y/n reached up, taking Shanks' hand. "fucking hell," she gasped laying there. Silence filled the room; the sound of a rubber band broke. Marco looked down at his lap, soaked in water. "It's time." 

[bittercandysweetrain]

The last part for Shanks x reader daddy issues will be part 10; it will also be the last SMUT piece with Shanks. I hope you enjoyed the series. Thank you for reading, and I hope you continue reading my other series to come.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Shanks x reader (Daddy issues) pt.9.9

two weeks later -

Early in the morning, Shanks woke up to an empty bed. Heading out, he saw y/n sitting with Marco, who was holding a clipboard, "abnormally large could mean you're gonna have a big baby, maybe twins." Marco said "what is going on?" shanks asked "I gave her a check up you know she should have already had one by now she is already in her late trimesters" Marco said "Marco believe I could have twins or a huge baby either way it could get rough for me." she said "twins make sense however" y/n said "twins?" shanks said "how so" he never told her about shamrock and the fact she could have twins was very possible "well, the reason I couldn't figre out of the baby was a boy or girl could very much be because there are two." she said "Is there anyway to check?" Shanks asked, "Yeah, there is, but I don't have that type of stuff here. Her due date is in a few weeks. You need to be on top of everything from what you eat to your movements. Yes, you need to rest, but we don't want your blood restricted, so maybe you can have little walks without exerting yourself." Marco said y/n looked at Shanks "what about sex?" she asked "That would need to stop too its too dangerous" he said looking at his clipboard." "are you saying that as a doctor." shanks asked sternly "Marco is a good doctor and knows more then us at this point don't get mad at him." y/n said slowly getting up "come on shanks lets go for a walk" she said taking his hand she lead him away from the home. "You know, I remember when you used to want Marco around, especially to join your crew. Yes, we have a past, but that doesn't mean you need to be so mean. Besides, he was really good to me; there is no bad blood between us," she said. "I know you don't think that, but being intimate with you is the only thing I have to make you look at me the way you look at them," Shanks said, leaving her confused. "Shanks, the way I look at them is from a point of view, of course, when we have sex, I look at you like that as well. When we have sex, you take the utmost care of me every time. I notice things. I know talking about your feelings for me is hard for you, but I notice. I knew the excuses to dock the ship when you have months' worth of supplies, so I could have a break. I know you stopped drinking as much, so you're still coherent until I go to bed. I know you check on me at night, and you talk to the baby a lot as well. I love being intimate with you as well, but it's not the only thing I love doing with you. I enjoy hearing you talk with your crew, party, and your stories. I love how carefree you are and how you can take charge in seconds. I love you no matter what, Shanks," she said as she kissed his cheek, continuing their short walk.   

Some time later, while Y/n was eating lunch and enjoying the company of Beckman, Izou, Juzo, and Haruta, Shanks had slipped away with Marco. The wind whipped across the grassy cliffside of the isolated island where the two graves stood, side-by-side, overlooking the vast New World. Shanks stood before them in silence, his signature black cloak billowing behind him. He wasn't there as a rival Emperor today; he was there as a man seeking a blessing from the only family the woman he loved had ever known. Marco stood several paces back, his arms crossed and his eyes hidden behind his glasses, watching the Red-Haired captain with a mix of wariness and deep-seated respect. Shanks stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on the stone marking Whitebeard’s rest. "I know I'm not the man you expected for her, Newgate," Shanks murmured, his voice barely audible over the crashing waves. "And Ace... I know how much you cared for her." He took a breath, his gaze hardening with a rare, solemn resolve. "I'm going to ask her to be mine. To carry my name alongside yours. I’ll protect her—and the child—with everything I am. I just thought you should hear it from me first." Marco let out a slow, steady exhale, stepping up beside Shanks. He didn't look at him, but his voice was firm. "They would have fought you for her, you know. But they’d also know you’re the only one stubborn enough not to back off until she was yours." He glanced at Shanks. "Go on then. Before I change my mind about letting you take her," Marco smirked.

Later that evening, the Red Force was illuminated by a hundred lanterns, and the shore was lined with a massive bonfire. The Red-Haired Pirates and the remaining Whitebeard crew were gathered, the air thick with the smell of roasting meat and expensive sake. Shanks stood at the center of the clearing, whistling sharply to get everyone’s attention. The boisterous crowd went quiet as he turned toward y/n. She stood near Izo and Marco, draped in her red and black silk kimono. "I’ve spent my whole life chasing the horizon," Shanks began, his voice ringing out with a warmth that silenced the crackling fire. He walked toward her, stopping only when he was inches away. "I thought freedom was just having no destination. But then I met a woman who showed no fear towards not just one but two emperors, who turned down being a warlord, being an emperor because she didn't want to, and survived a war while carrying the future in her belly. I thought I knew what freedom was, but the woman here is freer than any ship on the sea." The crew began to whistle and cheer, but Shanks didn't take his eyes off her. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took hers. "I don't want you to just be a guest on my ship," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intense whisper. "I want to be your anchor. I want to be the father our child deserves, and the husband who earns your smile every single day." Slowly, the legendary Red-Haired Shanks dropped to one knee on the sand. He reached into his vest and pulled out a simple, polished ring. "y/n... will you marry me?" The silence that followed was heavy with anticipation. Behind her, Izo gave a small, encouraging nod, and Marco watched with a faint, knowing smirk. y/n looked down at the man who had shielded her from Akainu and stayed by her side through the grief of Marineford. She let out a soft, breathy laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She squeezed his hand, pulling him back up to his feet. "Yes." The Red Force erupted. Lucky Roo let out a deafening roar of approval, Beckman clapped his hands, and the island shook as the two crews celebrated the union of Shanks and y/n.

[bittercandysweetrain]

Shanks x reader (daddy issues) pt.9.8

Hours later, Shanks and Marco sit side-by-side on a pair of overturned barrels, an open jug of high-grade sake resting between them. Neither of them says much at first; they just drink, letting the heavy silence of veterans settle over them. Shanks takes a long swig directly from the jug, then rests his forearm on his knee, his sharp gaze drifting across the field. A few yards away, sitting on a crate under the soft light of a hanging lantern, was y/n. Sitting across from her is Izo, meticulously cleaning one of his flintlock pistols. They’re speaking in low, familiar tones—the kind of effortless conversation that only comes from deep trust. Every now and then, Izo pauses his work to look up and offer a rare, genuine smile, and y/n’s expressions soften in a way she rarely allows the rest of the world to see. Shanks watches her, his thumb idly tracing the rim of his mug. His usual carefree, boisterous grin is entirely missing, replaced by a quiet, contemplative look. He looks at the way she carries herself, a sudden, subtle weight of understanding settling into his chest. He knows now. He knows about the hidden life growing inside her, and he knows the child is his. Beside him, Marco takes a slow sip from his own cup, his heavy lids half-closed as his eyes follow Shanks’s gaze over to the pair. He notices the uncharacteristic silence from the Red-Haired captain. "You're remarkably quiet tonight, Red-Hair," Marco murmurs, his voice low enough not to carry across the deck. "Usually, you're loud and drunk." Shanks doesn't look away from y/n immediately. He watches her laugh at something Izo said, a sound that feels entirely too fragile for the world they live in. Finally, Shanks huffs a soft, breathless laugh and takes another drink. "Just thinking," Shanks answered. Marco chuckled as he slowly stood up, stumbling, and he made his way towards y/n and Izo. 

Shank's hand tightened around the mug he held, his eyes were narrowed, fixed on where y/n sat with Izou and now Marco. Maco leaned over her, his hand planted on the back of the crate, and he spoke to the two. Y/n leaned toward Marco, listening to what he was saying. They were laughing—a low, intimate sound that grated against Shanks's nerves. Marco's posture relaxed and possessive in a way that felt entirely too natural. Laughing again, Shanks had had enough. He pushed off the railing, his boots thudding heavily against the wood. He didn't realize he was using a hint of his Conqueror’s Haki, but if he did, he didn't care. He came to a halt right behind y/n, his shadow falling over her and Marco. "Having a good time?" Shanks asked, his voice a low rumble that lacked its usual playfulness. Marco looked back at Shanks, his lazy expression not shifting an inch, though his eyes sharpened. "Just catching up, Red-Hair," Izo said. "Is that so?" Shanks stepped closer, closing the gap until he forced Marco away from y/n. He placed his hand firmly on her shoulder, his fingers digging in slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make his presence undeniable. "I’m sure she has plenty of stories. But I think she’s had enough of the 'crew talk' for one night." Y/n looked up at him, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes at the blatant display of territorialism. She knew exactly what was happening. "Izo was just about to tell me about the fight between them and Blackbeard," she said softly, her voice acting like a balm to his irritation. "Sounds like a long story, and it's rather late, Izo can wait until tomorrow," Shanks countered, his gaze shifting to Marco with a challenging glint. Marco let out a huff of a laugh, finally holding up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "I know when I'm being told to clear out. Don't let your ale get warm, Red-Hair." As Marco and Izou walked away, Shanks immediately took his spot, sitting so close to y/n that their shoulders pressed together. He didn't speak for a moment, just watched Marco disappear. "You're being ridiculous," y/n whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I'm being your husband," Shanks corrected, his voice softening as he looked down at her, his hand moving from her shoulder to rest protectively near her waist, mindful of the child they now shared. "He looks at you like he’s in love with you." "He was or is, you don't have to worry," she reminded him. "They’re family, they are just excited about the baby." Shanks sighed, the jealousy draining out of him as he pulled her closer, bringing her legs over his lap. "And what do you mean, husband?" she questioned, "hmm? I mean well, we have a child, and I do love you, so why not?" he asked, "Oh, you are such a pirate you can't even ask." She chuckled, kissing him. 

WARNING SMUT ~ With one arm, Shanks picked her up y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, "Don't drop me," she said, "I would never." Shanks chuckled, carrying her back to the room they would be staying in. He tossed her on the bed using his foot to shut the door behind him. y/n stared up at him, "You look cute, all jealous," she teased. "Can you blame me, knowing what I know that they had a piece of you, but at least I know I am the best." SHanks teased back "and who said that?" she asked "I am I know I am" Shanks said "or your cocky darling but I don't remember quite enough to compare" she shurgged Shanks brought her legs up to his chest "Oh I know what your doing your trying to get me riled up." he said "Am I?" she asked taunting him Shanks smirked holding her ankle "Its been a while since I got to fuck you so good think your up for it?" he asked "I am but I won't be screaming like you want me to Its not polite to the owner of the house." she said "screw that" he said pulling the sash that held the kimono shut. It fell open her large breast, falling to its natural state, shanks blushed, "damn baby, just looking at you is making me hard." y/n chuckled. Shanks leaned over, kissing her cheek. He moved her to her side, laying her leg on his shoulder. Y/n relaxed as she heard his belt coming undone. Shanks leaned on his knees at the end of the bed. His cock was hard and dripping, not that she could see, but his shaft was throbbing for her. Shanks slid his thick tip between her slit, grinding against her clit. Y/n rested her heel on his shoulder as his head tipped back, and his eyes shut as he took in the feeling of how warm and slick she was, her juices mixing with his precum. Shanks slowly slid into her, a loud, breathy moan ripping from his chest as she squeezed around him. Y/n took a breath, feeling every inch of him as he pressed deeper inside of her. Y/n arched her back, shuddering as he filled her. It had been two weeks since they last had sex, and her body had already forgotten how good his cock felt. “Damn,” he groaned at the feeling and slammed the rest of the way inside of her. She could feel him so deep, stretching her open as he rocked his hips, sliding out his cock to the tip before slamming back into her. Fingers digging into her thigh hard enough to leave bruising tomorrow morning. “Fuck!” she screamed. She didn’t think it would be possible to cum so quickly, soaking Shanks thighs and stomach. with eyes closed, breathing hard, and sweat evaporating off his skin. He let out a heavy breath, “I’m close,” he growled. “Gonna fill you up good.” Y/n could do nothing but nod breathlessly. Grinding against her as his cock twitched and pulsed. Painting her walls white with his cum his thighs lightly twitching from the work he put in.