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1. (oenology) a hue of deep red observed in aged wines
2. (botany) reminiscent of the Vespera rubra's final bloom hue
Synopsis A shipwreck, an island of secrets, and a reluctant host. When you, a passionate naturalist, wash ashore on Kuraigana, you enter the domain of the world’s strongest swordsman. He views you as a nuisance; you view him as an hermetic enigma. But under the moonlit garnet vesper, some discoveries—and some desires—are far too dangerous to classify.
warnings: female reader; near death experience; some PTSD; (very) slow burn; forced proximity; gothic atmosphere (wouldn't call it horror); english is NOT my first language; no nsfw (at least for the time being)
After centuries asleep, you resolve yourself to find a victim and regain your power bit by bit. But, between being haunted by your past grandeur, and encountering the worst type of victim— can you really find Mihawk like this? The answer is far too simple.
Biting... Nico Robin.
Warnings... No beta, we die like... well, ourselves I guess. Typical vampiric violence and urges, persistent sexual themes, "flashback" sequences, and... *squints* Mihawk? one bed trope but far more sinister.
Word count... 8.7K
A/N: Following up with the prologue, we meet the beautiful archaeologist!! What's the one bed trope doing here!!?!?!?! fic masterlist is here. :)
“My Lady. I came with your wine.”
Bodies litter the surrounding floor entirely. The tavern reeks of death, flies buzz nearby the pools of blood, the shade of crimson is dark, resembling the color of midnight. A young girl settles to her knees with a trembling body, presenting a golden tray carrying a singular chalice of red wine. Despite the manslaughter surrounding, she dares not run, doesn’t let the tray fall even a little bit, and holds her position. She carries a weak heart, it promises but another year. Something tells you that she doesn’t want even a few more months of her life.
You stare at her. She doesn’t look up at you. When your clawed fingers reach out, her trembling stills, preparing for something yet to come.
As you grasp the chalice, a gurgling sound comes nearby you, and a body crawls closer to you, fingernails bending as their hands claw at the floor, but when they reach your foot, you raise it. Anger surges through you, it pulls your strings and draws a powerful kick out of you, the body flies across the room, breaking the wooden bar stained red. The girl remains still. Nothing is suitable, not an ounce of flesh, nor a single bone, not even the trickling blood. It doesn’t quell the urges within.
“Does the cold air not hurt, My Lady?” she questions. Golden eyes greet you as he stares from below the tray of gold, her appearance reminds you of the angels you’d dreamt of, the divinity that mocked you, the purity you had lost. She begins to look like a person to you as you stand beneath the dim lights, but those words laced in fake kindness mean nothing, not when you can hear the whispering inside of her head. For death, she begs, cries out to the gods. Her frost-bitten fingers make you grimace, they look as if they’re ready to fall off.
“It’s a terrible bite. No matter what, it remains still on my skin. I suppose I have only myself to blame.” You speak, but turn away from her.
“Because of your robes?” her tone questions you. You pause. She does as well.
“... My Lady.” The young girl adds. Nothing in your expression changes, and you keep your back turned to the girl, in all honesty, you do not care if she loses every last limb. You don’t care for any other than yourself, it’s a miracle in itself you had spoken that day, even more disquieting, you’d chosen to walk away from her. The chalice in your hand falls to the ground, spilling the wine on a dismembered head lying about.
Though her eyes look straight at your back, you choose to ignore it. In this world, it’s eat or be eaten, it’s likely that you’ll never hear from her again, she will die soon. But then, a particular feeling tugs at you, urging you to return to the young girl. With people already waiting for you at the crypt you had taken over, you still wasted precious time on a flickering flame of life.
Something about her spoke to you.
Unbeknownst to you, that wasn't necessarily a positive thing. If it had been, maybe you wouldn't be stirring inside bindings, all your limbs pinned to the ground by nails that had long since rusted and secured by ropes. Only the room itself must know how long it had been.
The polished stone floors lack dust, but the high ceilings your head is forced to look up at is littered with thick cobwebs, no living arachnids in sight but yelling a tale of time. Though the nails piercing your arms and legs limit your movement, you wiggle your body weakly against the steady rip of your skin, struggling with both panic and anger. Anger at the fact that you can recall in vivid memory just how you’d ended up bound inside this mysterious room, anger at the fact that humanity had betrayed you once again even after all you gave— and panic, for the air carried a familiar chill.
You still your body, and let it remember the painful memory of your demise. Hundreds of beautiful gowns, a singing angel, focused dances— and a betrayal, by the advisors you kept closest to you. The memory hurts, not because of the betrayal, but because of the embarrassment that you’d let people so weak leech off of your power, and ultimately slaughter you. But you have two things, at least… your life, and a mouth that hungers still.
After sleeping for who knows how long, the very last thing you wanted was to succumb to human emotion. Anger was fine, because it was the driving force that helped your undead armies grip the country by the hair, but the fear was entirely unwelcome. Hunger grips you, like you’d never wanted to know, yet still you struggle to free yourself, unwilling to give in to your newfound weakness. All those years spent feeding, growing your armies and power, dominating the world with both politics and war, and yet those powers you spent your life cultivating were nowhere to be found.
Nails piercing your skin used to be part of your beauty regimen. And now, they are binding you to the floor, where peasants would kneel at your feet, maybe to send a message.
“I am not a peasant.” You gasp, reassuring yourself like an insecure little girl would. Another gasp takes you.
“I am not an insecure little girl!” Even though you could have spoken to yourself, you make a point of saying everything out loud. It's a habit picked up from your reign, you suppose. A chill in the room rushes over your skin. Panic strikes you once more.
The chill in the room materializes in the only way it should, in the form of Mihawk, standing proud as he towers over you, looking almost triumphant— like he’d won the war the two of you fought silently over the years. But his face remains blank in the way you always remembered it was, offering you a drink from his cold wrist and a warm body for you to eat, treating you like a wild animal or a pet. This man, this thing, has a reason for coming to see you now. While you don't remember him showing up at your “de-throning”, you have no doubts in your rotten mind that he had something to do with it.
When you took the throne, his whispers stopped. There were no more questions about your everlasting hunger, no bits and pieces about how people like you and him were special, nothing else forced into your mind against your will. Mihawk must have been plotting your downfall ever since you gained the power to block him out, desperate to harass you!
“Is that so? But you speak to yourself like one.” He furrows his brows in a curious display of emotion.
Your body twitches as it jerks towards him, but is held in place by the nails that seem to be more painful than ever, they feel like they're burning. Mihawk’s eyes look you up and down, then follow the length of the rope at your wrists and ankles, paying particular attention to the bells. There are thousands of things you want to say to him, and yet nothing leaves your mouth.
“What an ill-maintained place. Do people really think it appropriate to keep their queen in here? Or was it empress..? Well, it looks more like a...” Mihawk eyes every corner of the room as he speaks, you do your best to follow. It's got four walls, polished floors and a leaky ceiling, a captive queen, but that's about it. His eyes catch on something behind you that you're yet to see.
He looks back at you, and keeps his mouth shut. But you hear the word “peasant” in your head, clear as day. With a newfound thirst for violence, you thrash against your bindings, the bells ring loudly as you manage to lift your thigh up, taking a few nails with you and leaving the rest. A pained scream nearly escapes you.
Mihawk shows a small forgotten smile at your outburst, but it quickly turns into his normal melancholic look after the fact.
He chastises you with a click of his tongue as if you were a child, walking towards your freed leg, dodging your feeble kicks aimed at him with ease. His eyes catch on your leg and its wounds, you follow once you realize that the holes left inside of you aren't healing as they normally would be. Another furrowed brow from Mihawk. And an internal panic from you as he reaches towards your thigh, gripping it with one cold hand all the while you struggle to think of what he might want with you when you're bound and helpless.
Another fearful thought takes you. Not fearful of Mihawk, instead afraid of your own feelings that spread when he touches your wounded skin. It's something you would rather hide, this flowery feeling is not welcome in your domain.
“Hungry already? It's only been a few years.” Being of the same breed as you, he knows very well the physical symptoms you show and their cause, the delayed healing is caused by hunger. A few years have passed, he says.
“How many years is a few, exactly?” You’re desperate for information, Mihawk is the only one here to accompany you.
“Why? Hoping to get back on your throne, maybe drink from a few lusty maidens? Or handsome lads? Maybe you’ve become the type who thirsts for creatures instead… Perhaps a werewolf? I suggest you stop thinking about it.” Mihawk commands you with an unshakable voice, starting off mockingly and ending with a harsh reprimand that makes you even want to take a step back despite all the tension between you two. And being nailed into the floor.
But that doesn't stop you from feeling angry at the way he speaks to you. Surely by now he knows what makes you angry.
“Listen to me. I—” Before you even get the words out, Mihawk’s finger is pressed to your lips to shush you. Two different types of shivers run through you when faced with his touch.
“I will not. Shut your mouth for a moment, and heed my warning.” As Mihawk speaks, the very same vampiric authority you used to wield grips your skin, and you shut your mouth to obey his command.
“For too long has the world tolerated you. Instead of tolerating, they worshipped— laying their hands upon your body, drinking from your wounds and savoring the vampiric power. The power that we shared. ” Mihawk leans in close, but pulls himself away, walking behind you and out of sight. Lying still, you shake with rage, but are still forced to obey his command and listen to him obediently. He continues, letting the room echo his soft voice.
“It won't do humanity any good to have something like you running amok.” Mihawk ends.
The command he placed onto you lifts, and you're eager to get your words in.
“Oh please! Why should I waste the curse you gave me, and obey your rules? Why should I, the one who you attacked, listen to you?” Your words are raw, full of emotion but lacking the power you like, and you slowly start to feel like they're empty the more the silence washes over your words.
“Curse? Attack? Listen here—” Mihawk’s voice shakes with anger, you can taste the urges buried within that show their ugly head, and you can't resist the fear that they demand you to feel, falling under the spell of his words. A soft noise leaves your lips, and you feel sad? His emotions force you to let them in, and so he begins to tell you his own thoughts. Again, he approaches you. And again, you try to decipher his thoughts, yet can't understand them, nor remember when you last peered into his mind.
“We share something special. Something I so patiently waited for you to understand, lurking just within, and yet… Your body and soul reject it. Every inch of you resists this power, and yet you become it, losing all that you'd ever cared for, and so you are the evil. Do you feel it? How far you’ve fallen.” You hear his voice clear as the night sky, and yet you fail to understand the emotion within the words, the echo is forgotten. Mihawk does not wait for you to respond, instead possessing you with an emotion with no name to scare you into submitting.
“Power is not for you to seek. You were never, ever, meant to rule the world as such— but I still allowed it. ” Mihawk’s words drive you to foolish tears. But you insist in your head that they do not matter to someone like you.
“I don't need your permission for anything, pest!” A sob threatens you as you snap back at Mihawk, shaking in both pain and a whirlwind of emotions as the ceiling watches over you.
“Of course. But I am responsible for you, because it was I who made you into what you are now. Since the beginning, I swore to keep you in check, I gave you so much grace and relied on myself to make sure that you continued to grow. But in the end, all those missing memories must have swam away.” Mihawk speaks even softer than before, like he's telling you a secret.
“What are you saying? Am I a lost cause? Do you think I'm worthless, Mihawk?” This time, you can't help but cry, the tears are colder than you remember, like glaciers melting against the heat of your conversation. Mihawk speaks like he owns you, and yet you feel a slight comfort in his words— just before the pain of his words pierce you over and over again. You just don't understand! What is it that you're missing? What else did he take from you, what other wounds has Mihawk inflicted on you?
Why do you seek his answers so desperately, in spite of all he had caused? Why do you want his approval?The confusion from something deep within teases you, and the anger makes you lash out.
“I'm going to slaughter you! The same way you hurt me, I'll hurt you— and I won't let you live the next time we see each other." Each word you spit makes you feel human again, you swear you can feel a faint beating from within your ribs as you stare at him.
Once again, Mihawk walks into view. He steps between your legs, and drapes himself over you. This, you cannot discern from fact or fiction, but you remember how you felt warm for just a moment. before he’d gripped you and tossed you into the cruel and unforgiving sea. Master of your emotions, Mihawk has once again taken you from the real world and twisted your mind to feel something sick towards him, yet his actions remain a haze to you, that same wound he gave you long ago aches.
It aches. Oh, how the pain grips you! And still…
The air of the mausoleum suddenly fails to meet your expectations. That, or your corpse has left that comforting place for some unknown reason. How absurd. One moment, you were fang to fang with Mihawk, and now all those big emotions are gone, clashing with the confusion of awakening in this new and unfamiliarly sweet smelling forest? You’d hope there weren’t any fairies here playing tricks on your mind, but the sudden harsh ache in your skin forces yet another awakening. Something rather large scurries away as your palms plant themselves on the wet earth beneath you, its beating heart is indiscernible from any other living creature due to your weakened state.
As your eyes open, you notice dirt and moss, but also tall stone walls— ones you are far too familiar with. Here you are, inside of the overgrown ruins of what you once called your home, this time in the small but beloved courtyard. Except, this place, though holding some familiar pieces of structure, has become something almost entirely unrecognizable.
Many large trees have sprouted, allowed to stretch towards the sky without the constant upkeep of the garden you allowed the servants to keep. Slowly rising, it was as if you were learning how to walk again, your thighs shook while your knees wished to give out on you, and your arms were just as shaky while you tried your best to sit upwards. A primal hunger was present in your entire being, and the night smelled only of silence and blooming flowers.
“Ah, these statues must be thousands of years old at the very least! What a wonderful find.”
A voice echoes through the dusty and forgotten walls and hallways which surround you, the clacking of shoes against the stone floors are far too close for your comfort. How could you not have noticed this woman coming so close? The only answer could have been that far too much time has escaped, and the hunger was a tell tale sign of it. You are starving, and need to consume life in its rawest form of flesh and blood, or risk facing another one of your massacres falling upon people again.
…Perhaps she could satisfy your needs?
“Here should be the passage to the main portion of the palace. That long-nosed elf made quite a detailed map.” She continues talking to herself, but remains out of sight, her voice is echoed across the various walls that slowly become less recognizable.
Faced with more hunger pangs, you can only grind your fangs and push yourself up from the floor. When your body rises you struggle to keep yourself stable and standing straight, but it happens somehow. As the woman draws nearer, from what you can discern from the scattered noise of her footsteps, your legs feel alien in their slow pursuit. Just when a head of raven hair pops into your view, your knees buckle— and you fall to the ground once again, thankfully the sound is muffled by the wet earth. It's another struggle to get yourself standing again, now soaking in the wetness of the earth.
Legs pop into view, and you panic, entirely unprepared despite making up your mind to sink your fangs into her moments earlier. Would you be able to pull off spontaneous feeding in a weakened state like so? Again, it’s not like you have a choice. She’s closer, you can hear her exasperated breathing.
“Everything’s almost untouched by the human hand… Nature wins in the end, I suppose.” You hear the woman chuckle. Maybe you should make the first move, and brush up on the acting skills that got you through the first century of vampiric life— or you could play dead like a worthless mammal. You haven't stooped that low yet, and so you decide to hope those years of watching plays from above haven't left you like everything else has.
An extremely brief moment is spent clearing your throat, and trying to look less pathetic and more hopeless. Shockingly, that doesn't take much effort.
Ignoring the mortal plane's insult, you manage a shaky “Who's there?” After centuries alone in silence, you speak again, sounding less like yourself and more like a seasick sailor. The woman steps into view, cautious as ever with a lantern in hand— and a wooden stake in the other. Just seeing the sharpened piece of wood, a morbid curiosity fills you. Can the legends be true? Would a simple weapon like that paralyze you, or perhaps even slaughter you? Your legs now tremble with more than just excitement.
But, then your dull mind manages to put two and two together. If she carries a wooden stake, she is at the very least aware of some vampiric presence. Her earlier words of your beloved statues being “thousands of years old” hints that far too much time has passed, if her observations are correct. The trees about you hint only a few hundred years, but you're no tree expert. If she is aware of your existence, she is at least not aware of your face. If you play your hand right, then you’ll be able to catch her off guard with a bite.
Unfortunately for you, the pain of hunger has other plans for you.
The sounds of walking stills, before continuing, a bit more hesitant. A hum reverberates throughout the room, light approaching at the same pace and there she is. A raven-haired beauty, one with eyes of ocean blue and a long slender nose— her skin is swallowed by the warm lantern light, making her complexion appear beautifully bronze. You take a moment to admire, before hunger rips through your flesh and displays your innards. Figuratively of course, but it makes you fall to your knees the same.
Everything cries out silently in your direction, your fingertips feel as if they've swollen, your lips crack in the irritating cold as you once again acknowledge just how infuriatingly weak and ravenous you are. This time about, something shifts in the air, and even you feel a chill— different from being hand in hand with danger, you can't even ask for a dance. It's terrible, pitiful, you want anything but this feeling to take over you, your body seeks out the closest distraction, with your hands feeling the mossy ground for comfort. This woman watches, curious as to what comes next, it infuriates you— but you understand her curiosity. The pervert in you tells you to savor this feeling, but it's whipped into shape by rationality.
“It aches,” you dig your fingers into the earth, hoping to coax the woman closer. She does come closer, but your vision is quickly obscured by water. Not tears, but some other mysterious liquid that you hope is water. As you blink it away, you feel more small splashes hit your skin and freeze against your lack of warmth. The pain is temporarily quelled by the dripping liquid, for now you have a moment to question what exactly the woman is doing to your body.
“Oh. So you aren't an unholy creature.” The woman blinks at you a few times, tossing a glass bottle to the side. In the distance you hear the glass break, and it's an intense struggle to resist the urge to scream about her littering inside of your home. At the very least you didn't suffer from whatever she must have assumed you would, and she now thinks you are not an unholy thing.
“What?” Your confusion doesn't stop after she stops throwing the unknown liquid on you.
“Holy water. You didn't dissolve, did you? Or maybe the elf lied. Maybe I'm misremembering it all. Well, in that case, will you wear this?” She lowers her lantern onto the ground, and the light stings your eyes, but you blink that discomfort away quickly. You notice a satchel on her hip and a backpack hanging off of one of her shoulders, both look considerably full and well maintained. Inside her satchel, you watch her pull out a cross made of steel, strung about by a small chain. Correction; it's a cross necklace.
Not taking any chances clearly, she tosses the necklace towards you in an odd manner, and the chain somehow finds its way around your neck. Of course nothing happens, but you sit on the floor and wait for the necklace to do whatever it was for the moment. She seems satisfied and inches closer, but decides against actually approaching you. You take notice of her missing stake, and shakily lift yourself up with quickly draining strength that craves her. Instead of managing to lunge at her, you fall backwards again, but the woman wraps her arms around you, catching your fall.
When she's closer, you can practically taste how clean she is. She smells like flowers, and the dusty pages in books. The exposed taste of her arms and legs feels smooth— you can feel on your fingertips the traces of perfumed oils on her forearms and wrists. Her grip is steady and strong despite her initial reluctance to approach you, and you wish it was due to your acting rather than your actual physical state. Seeing someone so well taken care of only makes you wonder just how dirty and messed up you’ve gotten after so long, and just how you may have ended up in the ruined courtyard.
Did Mihawk move you? He had no reason to. Perhaps some of those who still worshipped you wished to free your body, and give you a better resting place. If it was the servants, you have no doubt they would move your body to their favorite place, in the heart of the palace.
Mihawk’s name is unfortunately not mentioned in passing inside of your head. Like an invasive vine, he covers the fences of your ribs and smothers your dried up heart with himself. Just like you said you would, you’d slaughter him no matter the cost. If you need to live as an urchin, lurking and eating in the filthy wastelands, you would. If it meant that Mihawk would die by your hand, and you could get another taste of the ichor in his veins, then you’d eat his bones and all. It's certainly not for pleasure! Of course you’d enjoy it, but you wouldn't enjoy it, right?
It takes a while for you to notice that you're now standing on your own, staring at the ground like a freak of nature.
“Might I ask who you are, Miss?” The woman pokes you with the stake that had suddenly appeared in her hand again, earning a jolt and near tumble from you. She grips your hip and steadies you, but still keeps a distance oddly enough.
“Me? Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first? I was here first.” Suddenly, the pampered woman inside of you wants to have her way, and you scowl at this mysterious woman. You don't like her accusatory tone! Even if it is well founded.
“Were you?” Her brow raises the longer she looks at you.
“Of course I was! I woke up here, and…” Slowly you start to realize that your tone is far too rude for someone so robust and alert to hear. If she was so pleased, you’d be a red splatter on the walls! Well, there's always time for a somber tone.
“I was attacked, I know not by who. I just didn't want to risk being discovered by him again… He’s a terrible thing, ruthless in all the worst ways, and with no shortage of resources to deploy if it means my death.” Partial truths always make the best lies, and your fake sniffling certainly makes quite the spectacle. When you were out on city streets playing the helpless maiden, there was no shortage of men and women alike to buy the act. There's no reason it shouldn't work now.
Your admission leaves the woman speechless. Her eyes don't leave you, but you look over and notice her shoulders have gone a bit slack.
“Why have you not sought refuge with the adventurers guild? If you posted a bounty, our higher ranks would have taken care of him. We also offer free lodging for those fleeing violence.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and leans back against a pillar to watch you.
A guild? You’ve not the slightest clue who these people could be.
“I do not know this guild you speak of. I prefer the countryside, where there are less people and more animals.” With a sigh, you look into the distance as if in thought, struggling to not look over at the woman again.
“Essentially, we’re a group of people who explore and slay beasts, hence the name. If it is a safe haven you seek, then there is a town nearby. Though, you don't seem to have any currency on you…”
You swallow. The hunger is brewing again, and your eyes land on her again. But she's clearly intelligent enough to know that an erratic woman approaching rapidly means doom. You must leave this place, and choose easier prey— if only animals could sate your appetite.
“Oh. Well, I'm sure I'll find my way there. Farewell.” Before you can turn and run away, the woman interrupts you with the utterance of a name.
“Nico Robin, archaeologist of the adventurer’s guild. With the harvest moon so close, the wolves grow restless, as do their appetites. If you must go, I will offer safer passage. Though I can only hope we won't be eaten by creatures.” The woman, who you now know as Robin, speaks with a new smile, something that feels so familiar and comforting. In return, you do the same, introducing yourself as a lonely woman living in the deep countryside— fleeing from an abuser and abandoning your home in the process.
Roleplay. How delightful. Curiously enough, you feel like you've done this before, but never in your nightly trysts.
She clears her throat, and begins to speak.
“You see, I was wary of you at first due to the legends about this place. Long ago, before the light dared to shine upon our country they say, there was a cruel empress who ruled the sea and land alike. No armies could quell her wrath, and with her uprising came the birth of many supernatural creatures. The lycanthropes, her vampire spawn, and other things that were said to be myth. I didn't live in this time, but there were records that survived and came from these very ruins— stating that the vampire mistress, unbelievably lustful for blood and otherworldly in her…” Robin begins to rant, her voice carries far too much interest for a normal person. She must be one of those odd ones.
“When I encountered a beautiful stranger, looking so sickly, I was naturally surprised. They say true vampires carry otherworldly beauty, so they may easily seduce their victims and lure them to their death. Some theorize that the sirens of the sea and the vampires are closely related due to their similar characteristics.” Despite her desire to ramble about many related topics, you focus on the bits and pieces you hear about yourself and other vampires. Despite being an archaeologist, she's knowledgeable on many things.
“But a true vampire living so long isn't plausible. According to stone carvings–” Just before Robin says more than you can handle, a low growl interrupts her. You wouldn't doubt that the local wildlife or other creatures have grown impatient with her talk, as have your cold lips. Hunger comes again, but it remains mostly silent in the face of what your body assumes is an imminent meal.
“I believe we should leave this place.” You click your tongue, and Robin nods.
“Let's go, then.” Robin spoke, prompting you to join her, you can't help but notice the appeal in her smile, the way she struts about with utmost confidence, the dip in her back, the curve of her hips, the curl of her lips— though, you, of course, would never ogle a human woman in such a manner. It's just that it's been a while since you've been awake, and she's easy on the eyes, so your appetite is pleased by her looks. She bends down to pick up the oil lamp she brought with her, and your eyes are still drawn to her.
It's simply your appetite talking, of course. You two head down throughout the dusty and spider infested halls, the clacking of both of your shoes is a tad bothersome.
“Miss. How did you come to know of this place?” Robin begins to question, her tone non-accusatory. She looks back at you with a curious look, in fact.
“I didn't,” you reply, staring down the torn paintings you once cherished the most in your halls. The statues remain, too heavy to drop and too sturdy to shatter, Robin admires them in passing. “I was fleeing that man. I ran into the maze of walls and hallways in hopes that he would not find me… and ended up unconscious inside.”
Robin lets her hum of acknowledgment meet you as you meet an especially large opening in the beloved walls of your home. A frown dares to fall on your face.
“Does the air here seem a tad thick to you, as well? We should hurry. That moon has yet to come, but dangers persist no matter what. The walls could cave in on us, and we would end up being nothing more than splatters of red.”
Robin comments. She’s more odd than you initially thought, but individuality is part of being human. A chill same as before wraps itself over your spine and almost causes you to gasp aloud. You feel anxious, and for a second you swear you feel the same eyes boring into the back of your head.
“Of course.”
Exhaling, you glance behind you, gripping the watch as if it were your lifeline. You're frightened, so you walk side by side with Robin, ignoring any suspicious she might throw your way as a response.
It’s bittersweet, seeing the stains of old blood and splints of bone while simultaneously taking in the palace which gave you comfort. Things are sure to have changed quite a bit, and in order to get your steady food source replenished, you would have to possess any sort of power yet again. Such a thing wouldn't be too easily achievable, not when you’re back to living like a spawn does. Robin leads you down a staircase, into the lower level of your palace.
On the lower level, you’d find the torture chambers, blood baths, and room of many murals. It used to be your favorite floor… and it's also the place all the younger servants would sneak out and back in from, specifically from the crypt beneath the church they’d all established for you.
It's a long walk, but if Robin knows this path, then she's aware of it. Despite the ache in your legs, you prepare to walk for what will feel like days— but it is only an hour or two.
The you which the world knew saw you as a bloodthirsty deity who would give humans a few extra years of health and life for a bath of blood. That does sum you up, actually, but now you feel your existence is more than to just feed and slaughter. New feelings, sensations, and coherent thoughts are filling your stained soul with curiosity, the question is not what is the cause but why is the cause.
“Was there anything you were searching for in particular in these ruins?” Opting for small talk, you try to catch Robin’s attention.
“Not anything specific. It's just interesting, learning about an empire that lasted so long, and only fell with the death of its ruler. Vampires don't die, but according to official records, this one did. Don't you think it's funny?” Robin whips her head around, hair flying in various directions, looking behind you into the long passage. She smiles at you, and then slows her pace, walking by your side.
You confuse yourself a bit. You spent the entire journey back up spacing out, unsure if you even made conversation; you can't really be bothered by anything more than your own internal conflicts and hunger. Immediately you begin to notice the crickets make a cacophony of noise, the crashing of waves and distant howling is all too familiar. One more glance at the familiar surroundings before you leave for an uncertain amount of time, maybe returning eventually, and maybe not. Robin takes one good look at the flowering road ahead, and then continues onward.
“I’m planning to check into a nearby inn, but I’m concerned about you most of all. It’s no good escorting you if I am to hear that you are deceased by the next day. It could just be the goodwill of the senior adventurers spreading through me… It’s out of character for me, but nobody quite takes an interest in me much anymore, so I suppose I just want you to live long enough for us to be acquainted.” Robin’s eyes watch the surrounding woods for a minute, before they momentarily glance over to you, awaiting an answer. You don’t have any choice but to stay with her– how could you survive without her, either way? The thing you need most is her blood, but her comment about the “senior adventurers” piques your curiosity, and you certainly are tempted to ask a question or two.
“This guild you speak of,” you step over a puddle in the ground, unable to catch a glimpse of your reflection.
“It’s well established, no? Were you being compensated for exploring these ruins?” Unsure of what comes next, your eyes flicker between Robin and the surrounding trees.
“Oh no, nothing of that sort. It's more like a vacation to me, another chance to see a lost civilization. Isn't it interesting to you?” She glances at you through the corner of her eye, still smiling as she strides forward. Afraid of making things awkward or killing conversation, you nod your head.
“Somewhat. But I find it tragic all the same.”
Fortunately, after much more idle conversation, Robin seems to have eased up around you— just in time for a worn dirt road to appear, the most traveled path is always the easiest. A distant screeching from some sort of avian sharpens your long dull instincts, for a second everything surrounding you is back to the way you remembered before. Suddenly you can hear Robin’s heartbeat for the first time, it's steady and sure of itself, which is good for you. Just as quickly, it's gone, leaving you wondering what strange changes your body might experience also.
“Did you come from this way?” You ask a simple question, furrowing your brows as birds gather in the walls of trees you leave behind.
“Yes, there’s a village nearby. Not exactly quaint, but it's not the capital either. Plenty of people pass through, and it's got everything you need within.”
“Nearby?” You question. “How close?”
“Can you not see? We’ll be there in less than an hour, not to worry. Just stay close, and we won't encounter any issues.” Robin points in the distance, slowing her speed as she tries to gesture towards some distant blurry patch of land, but you don't see anything special. Back then, you could have seen it from underground if you wished, and now all of your senses are far too dull for your liking.
“Let’s make haste, then. I’m beginning to get a bit jumpy.” You speak as if the trees are actively listening, the two of you begin shuddering just as audibly as it is visible. The air is cooler with each step the two of you take, and you just can’t break out of the silence, because it feels wrong.
You feel those eyes boring into the back of your head every step of the way. Strangely, you can't make out any of the forms he would dare to take. He must still be quite powerful, to find you so quickly and so soon. Mihawk doesn't dare approach you, but you feel his watchful gaze unable to leave you, like it's telling you to hold your tongue. His eyes have you in such a trance, that you barely manage to pull yourself together as a carriage rushes past you, far too many horses follow, rushing towards the city walls that you can finally make out.
Whoever was being pulled by the carriage would reach the city before you, and it's now more than ever you wish someone was here to pamper you like so. The smell of cigarettes gives you whiplash, but you don't pay any more attention to it, not when Robin is so clearly scolding you.
“Pay more attention, I'm begging you. You would have been trampled.” Robin’s eyes betray a hint of worry, and you aren't sure why she cares so much about you. You’ve just met after all, and your charm does not possess the power to bewitch her like so in this state.
After far too much walking, a bustling and noisy town greets you. Though it is deep into the night, occupied minds cannot find the time in their schedules for sleep, and they wander the streets. Some laugh merrily, others wallow in their own negativity, and you and Robin are just looking for somewhere to settle. It would be easier to go after a drunken man and drink him dry, but you aren’t the type of vampire to chase after men simply because they’re easily accessible, you have your eyes set on a beautiful archaeologist this time. Following in her footsteps, you reach a cozy looking Inn. There are orchids displayed in intricately patterned vases nearby the open door. The building itself is made of a sturdy looking wooden structure with a wide arch that has a homemade sign on display.
The noise of this place drowns out everything but your own thoughts. Even so late into the night, it feels like a second sunrise.
“Come in, come in! Are ya ladies looking for lodging? Beauties such as yourself should never be caught out at such a late hour. You too, young man with the dashing golden locks! I have plenty of room for all.”
An older woman comes into view, popping out of the doorway and dancing towards you two, including the blonde man. She’s short and stout with graying hair tied back with a piece of cloth, an apron tied around her waist with a welcoming smile. There’s a keyring hanging from a chain clasped around her neck, which must be keys to the rooms.
“How much would you charge for a single room with two beds? I’m afraid I’ve nearly used all my travel funds. It’s just for tonight, ma’am.” Robin unclasps a leather pouch from around her belt, her lantern is now extinguished. She loosens the drawstrings around it, digging around for a second as she awaits an answer, her cold blue eyes drawn to the contents of her coin pouch. The woman looks back between you and Robin with an accusatory glance, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed all while she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Sorry, lass… All we got is a few single bed rooms. Just for the inconvenience, I'll give you a discount! Maybe they're together…?” The older woman not so quietly mutters the last part under her breath. Robin purses her lips and nods, sparing you a singular apologetic glance— she does not have the proper funds for two rooms.
“And you, young man?” She speaks to the hooded blonde man now, who jolts the very second she tries to draw his attention. You watch him remove his hood after stepping a bit more into the shadow cast nearby, then you notice his odd eyebrows. They’re swirled, but he seems to cover the right side of his face with his bangs quickly when he catches onto your curious look, a shy blush and beating heart greet your ears and eyes, which you consider a rather friendly introduction. There is still a part of you that enjoys this manner of attention, but you want to keep it buried for now.
“One room, one night. Please and thank you, Mademoiselle.” His voice is smooth, but it has an undeniable presence, reminiscent of a certain emperor with an appetite for women you remember tearing limb from limb. A shiver runs through you, pleasure calls to you and asks for time to reminisce on murder. He smells like cigarettes, the same you’d smelt from the carriage earlier— and yet he’s only just arrived at this Inn.
“For the ladies, ten in total, for the young man, it's just fifteen.”
She leads the three of you inside slowly, shutting the front door of the Inn after all has entered. The reception area gives off a comforting vibe, and there's the faint smell of dinner dug into the beige colored walls, the wood planked floors are a bit squeaky and worn, but still not the slightest bit dirtied. Robin hands over ten unfamiliar coins with a symbol etched into each side, it looks like a “B” with two lines cut into it. Some new age currency, no doubt about it.
The blonde man hands over his payment as well, your eyes glance over the rings of silver adorning his fingers, paired with many jewels. Not exactly the best choice if you’ll be out in a slightly more rural area, but maybe he’s just a clueless rich kid who got lost.
“I’ll be right back young man, wait here for a moment while I show these pretty ladies to their room.”
Nodding towards your direction, she guides you down a dimly lit hallway, passing what must have been a dozen doors before she finally reached one that seemed deliberately excluded from the others. She no doubt still thinks you and Robin are lovers, but it's not like she's mocking the two of you, at the very least. Robin is beautiful, but your mind craves her corpse at most, not romance at the moment. No matter how much beauty is in a vessel, all is measured in ash and blood. Except yours, of course! It's common knowledge that you're gorgeous, and that beauty earns you the rights to many things.
The innkeeper removes a heavy metal key off of the large keyring hanging around her neck, and places it into Robin’s open hands.
“You two ladies stay safe, I wouldn’t go out this hour at night, what with all the rowdy men. Your door locks, too.” She smiles at you two, before walking back to the reception area.
Robin sighs, unlocking and pushing the door to your room open. The room is a bit smaller than someone of your caliber is used to, but it is clean and pristine, although the windows only have a sheer curtain to cover them. The two of you stare at the single bed, waiting for each other to say something. Robin seems tired, but also looks curiously at you, perhaps you seem disheveled. She might not be used to sharing a bed casually with another, but you aren't as shy as she is.
Without any words, you remove your shoes, placing them neatly by the door as you approach the bed. Unsure of what comes next, since you do not need to sleep, you sit on the edge, waiting for her to approach.
The way Robin looks at you is not the way acquaintances should glance at each other. She's not disgusted, nor uncomfortable, she looks too excited to lay next to you for the night. Lust is always the first emotion to show in people— but you're not entirely sure this is lust, either. Nonetheless, she removes her own shoes and outer layers of clothing, now wearing her undergarments. Her satchel and backpack come with her all the way to the left side of the bed, and are carefully placed onto a nightstand.
She looks classy in her nightwear, you note. Robin doesn't give you another glance, and settles beneath the blanket with a swiftness, not facing your direction.
Silence, once again, fills the gap between you two. You can't remember the last time it was so quiet, without other worries floating around inside your head. Well, you did have worries, like the ever aching hunger within your bones, but those could wait. There's a warm, breathing body next to you. If you were so patient, you could wait until she slept, and have a bite.
But then comes the moral dilemma. You know it better than anybody else, when you get a taste you just won't stop until everything is gone. Not only that, but she's been so kind, and the human in you aches. Can you really make time for emotional aches when the hunger inside you is swelling into an ugly mass?
You decide to wait, just until you’ve counted a thousand breaths of hers, ignoring a persistent presence outside of one of the windows and the shouting from inside the Inn. Mihawk will wait for you, whether he heard your vow or not, and you are sure that he's watching just as curiously now. From the windows, inside the cracks of the walls, it feels as if his eyes just won't leave your figure.
Every lustful piece of you wishes to swim in warm blood spilled from a beautiful body.
The slowly disappearing rationality in you urges you to stop and think— you are not alone in this sinful den. Were a murder to take place, you’d be caught within minutes, even without your hypersensitivity to beating hearts this much you can tell. Yet, despite telling yourself that you’d ensure that you would be free and strong enough to taste Mihawk again, you cannot ignore the primal need to taste the sleeping body next to you. But, you wait, and you wait. Until you can’t anymore, and until your brain feels as if it would split, you will wait.
Sleep does not dare take you. Even as you count several hundred breaths that silently leave the archaeologist’s body, you can’t force yourself to close your eyes. Each and every waking moment is spent watching her back, to the point you cannot remember anything else you’d wanted to do. Mihawk’s name does not shake you, nor the night that gets darker still.
Something inside of you whispers, teasing you with something so sensual and disgusting.
“Taste her,” it pleads, pressing its warm skin to yours.
“Eat her…”
“Let them mourn her.” With a final breathy gasp clawing at your stomach, despite the panic that rises immediately from not being in control, your mouth opens wide to welcome her tender and moist meat. Saliva you didn’t know you had floods from your lips, and you lunge at her, jamming your fingers into warm skin you wished to steal away.
But instead of a steady red rush, instead of a terrifying awakening, Robin delivers what your hungry mind could not have expected. A wooden stake, jammed into your cold body with such force that you swear you can feel the breath you’d lost long ago fill your lungs again. You freeze, jaw still unhinged and ready to taste, bearing all of your sharpest teeth.
“You’re a vampire.” Robin sounds exasperated, her eyes light up in a way you’ve never seen before, likely the last you’ll ever see. Her smile still enchants, still lures you in, but the hunger has vanished. This hunger has made you lose.
No words leave you. Despite your ability to do so, you cannot speak, and can only stare up at this beautiful face.
She seems so sure that she will slaughter you.
And that’s why her next words are even more shocking.
Robin states your name, your full name, though hearing what you can only assume had been your human surname sends unpleasant chills through you.
“The shadow cast over the world centuries ago. I…” She suddenly wavers, twisting the stake deeper into where she’d pierced you.
You were sure then that she would condemn your actions. Call you a wench, succubus, unholy creature… and yet she did not. She only asked you one simple thing.
“Would you mind telling me about it? Life so long ago… what I would give to witness the rise and fall of so many centuries. And yet here you are, wielding such information, keeping it all secret.” The look in her eye and tone of her voice tells you that she means to scold you. You’re far too shocked to say anything about it.
Sensing an opportunity, however, you try and test your luck.
“I’ll… tell you all you need to know. Just release me, and—” Searing pain shoots through every inch of you as you fail to finish your sentence, Robin stops you as she pushes the piece of wood deeper into you. It would have been thrilling if she wasn’t able to kill you.
“Let’s have some fun with it,” Robin smiles, pushing her body onto yours as she means to immobilize you further. It only arouses you, shamefully. “Then, perhaps you’ll be free..."
super secret a/n: I always wanted to be a vampire when I was little. Now that I'm 600, I think it's just silly! but nonetheless, at the cost of one reblog and perhaps a comment, you can read this vampiress tale and imagine yourself as one!!!
If anybody wonders why it takes so long for my fics to update it's actually because i tend to blink and rest for a few days and it's two months after I last posted a chapter suddenly.
I wish I could post back to back chapters but I fear that I would lose the plot and my brain would melt
If anybody wonders why it takes so long for my fics to update it's actually because i tend to blink and rest for a few days and it's two months after I last posted a chapter suddenly.
I wish I could post back to back chapters but I fear that I would lose the plot and my brain would melt
Love On The Catwalk - Rumor and Campfire (Chapter 2)
chapter 1 | chapter 2 |
synopsis: your main objective is to kill straw hat luffy. but instead, you find yourself hesitant once you start getting to know him. the price you had to pay was to allow yourself to be vulnerable and learn to love.
genres: slowburn, angst, romance, suspense, abuse and trauma, growth and self-discovery, psychological
now playing: só - hareton salvanini
wc: 2.8k
a/n: shorter chapter since the next one is gonna be longer👀
Nami anxiously paced around the ship's deck as she impatiently waited for her captain to arrive. When she heard him yelling, she looked down, and spotted him running at full speed.
"Luffy, where the hell have you been?! We've been waiting for you for almost an hour now and..." Nami paused to squint her eyes to get a better look at what Luffy was carrying on his shoulder.
"Is that a girl?!" She shrieked in fear. "Luffy, put her down now immediately! Where did you even grab her from?! You know what?? Nevermind! Put her down now, we need to go!"
Luffy stretched his arm out and grips the railing, launching himself in the air and onto the deck. Because of Nami's burst of confusion and anger, Sanji quickly made his way out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was.
"Where the hell have you been, captain?! Not only have you made Nami-swan wait so long for your reckless decision, but you also..." Sanji paused to squint his eyes to also get a better view of what Luffy was carrying on his shoulder.
"Is that..." he shuddered under his breath. "Is that a lady?!"
Sanji spun around multiple times like a ballerina, shrieking in response to who Luffy had brought on the ship. But right away, he stopped spinning to get a clear view of the lady. You were so badly injured, he didn't even know what to do in that moment.
"Luffy, what the hell did you do?!" He sharply roared into the air, almost exploding when fire covered his entire body.
"It wasn't me! I wasn't the one who hurt her!" Luffy yelled at Sanji. "She fought this really ugly guy who wanted to kill her!"
Because of all the commotion, the rest of the straw hat pirates exited the kitchen to see if Luffy had finally returned. But to their surprise, they didn't expect their captain to kidnap an injured woman.
Chopper immediately rushed to his captain to check on the woman he had brought. He checked your pulse and his eyes widened with sudden terror.
"Luffy, take her to my infirmary now!" Chopper commanded him. Luffy ran straight towards the room with no second thought as Chopper ran behind him.
"Is she gonna be okay?" Luffy asked with a hint of worry in his tone.
"Yes, but you need to leave! I need to concentrate," the doctor firmly told his captain.
Luffy pouted when seeing the state you were in. It didn't seem to worry him though. He can tell that you were strong enough to handle the pain you were in. But he couldn't help but feel a bit scared when he saw the way his friends reacted to your injuries.
Luffy exited Chopper's infirmary and headed towards the kitchen, already smelling the scent of Sanji's marvelous cooking. He burst the door open and sat down next to Usopp, already munching on his plate.
"Captain," Robin turned to him. "Have you seen or heard anything strange that was happening on the island?" She asked him.
"Whaddya mean?" Luffy asked her with his mouth full.
"Apparently, a rumor spread all across the island about The Undertow's weapon being on this island," Robin casually said, making the mood instantly shift. Utensils had dropped on the table, few people stopped chewing, and a few others ignored the conversation.
"The what?" Luffy spoke again with food in his mouth, not caring about the change in the atmosphere.
"Hold on! So, you don't know about," Usopp paused for a brief second before whispering to everyone. "Them?"
"What the heck are you guys talking about? You're all acting weird!" Luffy continued munching on his food, getting a bit slightly annoyed with how everyone was acting.
"The Undertow is just another stupid organization that exploits people," Nami answered for Usopp, walking into the kitchen with Sanji to join dinner with the others.
"Sanji raised anchor, so you don't have to worry about it," Nami spoke to Jinbe, sitting on the seat he had saved for her. He laughed in response, thanking Sanji for something unnecessary for him to do for him.
"Okay? What does The Undertaker have to do with me?" Luffy spat out, actually getting pieces of chewed-up food on the table and on some of his crew-mates.
"No, what? Luffy, The Undertow," Usopp said, emphasizing the last sentence. "It's this weird underground organization where it's so overpowered that even the world government doesn't know where to find them!"
"So? I can beat them anyway," Luffy shrugged it off. He had finally finished all the food he was allowed to eat and rubbed his stomach in satisfaction.
"Luffy, this isn't just some other powerful group we can usually defeat," Robin said to him. Everyone else who was present refrained from interrupting the conversation.
"Millions of people around the world have been going missing almost every single day," Robin continued. "What's worse is that the government won't even look further into it, even if it means risking their reputation."
"That's just stupid," Zoro murmured before chugging his beer.
"Captain, that woman you brought here looked almost as if she was on the verge of death," Brook joined in. "If I may ask, do you think she might have some sort of connection with this Undertow?"
"Nah," Luffy casually said. "The guy who was tryna kill Y/n seemed more like an undertones guy."
"Undertow," Usopp corrected him, already annoyed knowing that won't be the last time he'll have to correct him again.
"Kill her?! Why the hell would some sicko do such a thing!?" Sanji furiously yelled, joining in on the conversation as well.
"I dunno," Luffy simply stated.
Chopper slowly opened the door, placing a few steps into the room before letting himself drop to the floor. He put his paw in the air to indicate that he was okay, and he was just tired.
Sanji got up from his seat and ran to the tiny doctor. Helping him up so he could be able to sit in his seat and eat.
"Tell me, doctor," Sanji spoke to him with tears in his eyes. "Is the beautiful lady okay?"
"Yeah," Chopper answered as he desperately tried to keep his eyes open so he could eat instead of falling asleep. "She's doing well. Just needs food when she wakes up soon."
"I can help with that!" Luffy shouted as he jolted up from his chair.
"No, you're gonna scare her, you damn vacuum!" Sanji berated his captain.
Despite Sanji opposing the idea of any men being near you, Luffy made his way out of the kitchen to Chopper's infirmary as he held your plate. When he arrived, he looked at the window to see if you were there. To his surprise, you were, and you were sound asleep.
Luffy ecstatically opened the door while still being careful not to scare you. Quietly closing it as he makes his way to you, and sitting on Chopper's spinning chair while he watched you sleep.
"Psst," Luffy whispered to you. He waited a few seconds to see if you would answer him.
"Hey," he whispered to you again.
He waited a couple more seconds before deciding to eat the crumbs off your plate. However, even after eating a few crumbs off your plate, it didn't help him at all, and he was desperately trying not to indulge in more.
"Are you eye-fucking my food?" You asked Luffy the minute you opened your eyes.
He looked up from the plate in disbelief that you had woken up and almost caught him eating your food. Yet, despite getting caught, his mouth still tried to find its way to it.
"Uh, no?" Luffy said, sounding a bit offended that you would even think that he would do such a thing.
"You know what, you can have it," you rolled your eyes at him.
"Really!?" Luffy enthusiastically yelled louder than he should have. You covered your eyes, completely annoyed by his childish behavior, and nodded at him.
He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and dropped all the food from the plate into his mouth, eating it all in one gulp.
You couldn't believe the sight of what had just happened, especially since you had just woken up from a fight you did not expect in the slightest.
Luffy licked the leftover sauces on the plate as he watched you struggle to get out of bed. Your whole body trembled as if you had spent an hour naked outside in the snow. And although you managed to get out of bed, your knees wobbled from the sudden weight, which caused you to lose your balance. You prepared yourself to fall and accept the pain, but instead, you felt Luffy's warm embrace.
"Careful," he said. "Don't want Chopper and Sanji to get mad at me for not takin' care of ya."
In no way did Luffy intend his comment to be a tease and poke at you. He was serious about not wanting another beating from his friends.
You, on the other hand, were completely jaded from hearing him speak. Especially since the first thing you saw once you woke up was that damn straw hat of his.
"Wanna meet my crew?!" he asked eagerly as he helped you out of the exit. Despite not wanting to socialize with other people, the odds were in Luffy's favor yet again.
"Does it look like I have a choice?" You sarcastically asked.
"Nope!" He answered. Surprisingly enough, you already knew what his answer would be to save yourself from being aggravated.
Both of you made your way onto the deck to find everyone circled around a campfire while heating marshmallows. Luffy almost abandoned you to get himself a marshmallow and heat it before realizing you were still hurt and needed help. He frowned at you, hoping that you would catch a glimpse of his sad puppy eyes and tell him to ditch you to heat a marshmallow. But despite only knowing Luffy for a few hours, you already knew what his plans were without even needing to look at him.
"Y/n-swan!" Sanji yelled as he twirled his way to you. He shoved Luffy out of the way, making him fall across the deck on his butt, and picked you up bridal style to set you down on the seat that both Nami and Robin had saved for you. Sanji kneeled and lightly grabbed hold of your hand before placing a fragile kiss on top of it.
"How are you feeling, angel?" he asked, trying to hold back his nosebleed from simply looking at you. His actions made you feel a bit embarrassed.
Just a few minutes ago, you were woken up by some greedy bastard, and now you're being treated like royalty by some random guy.
"She's fine! Now go away!" Luffy answered for you as he harshly pushed Sanji away from you, making him fall backwards across the deck on his butt.
You looked behind you to see Luffy looking a bit irritated as he huffed through his nose. Nami, who sat next to you, mercilessly punched the back of Luffy's head, and knocked him unconscious.
"She can answer for herself, you know!?" She yelled at him. She sighed in frustration and brushed her hands off with her low-rise pajama shorts.
"I'm Nami," she said, smiling at you. "That freak over there is Sanji," she pointed to the chef, who had fainted from his nosebleed that was certainly not because of Luffy pushing him.
"Long nose is Usopp, weird cyborg man is Franky, skeleton dude is Brook, sleepy guy is Zoro, fishman karate master is Jinbe, and your reindeer doctor is Chopper."
"I'm Robin," the black-haired woman joined in as she waved at you, smiling as well.
"Y/n," you introduced yourself to both of them, giving back a soft smile while keeping your distance from everyone else.
Nami handed you a thin branch with a marshmallow on top, inviting you to join them in making s'mores.
"So," you spoke up, "Where exactly am I?"
"You're on our ship," Nami responded, "We're not exactly sure where to go though. So, I guess you'll just have to stick with us! Just ignore every guy here, they're all weird."
"Tell me about it," you replied as you fidgeted with the end of your branch and kept your eyes on the fire.
It felt weird to you that no one was questioning your presence or why you were in such a concerning state; covered in bruises and your own blood. You couldn't help but to observe them as you pondered about how strange this pirate crew was.
The long nosed guy, known as Usopp, loudly told tales of his extreme adventures. The small reindeer who was apparently your doctor, known as Chopper, slept soundly as he leaned on Usopp. While the skeleton and the cyborg laughed together at how risky and adventurous Usopp was, yet so invested on what came next.
When you made eye contact with the fishman, known as Jinbe, he nodded his head as a sign of respect. You couldn't help but look away in embarrassment.
Although no one else had noticed the quiet sound of Luffy's hands gripping the floor to drag himself to the circle, it had certainly caught your attention.
Luffy pulled himself until he had reached your seat. He looked up with those pleading eyes that you're starting to get accustomed to, as well as understand why he's doing it.
You huffed and pulled your stick away from the fire, blowing on the marshmallow to cool it off. Carefully, you took it off the branch and placed the marshmallow in front of Luffy's face.
The sight of the perfectly toasted brown marshmallow made him drool, and his eyes went heavy. You tossed it into his mouth and watched him drift off in satisfaction at the soft taste of the sweet treat you gave him.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Nami and Robin. They were both on their way back to the women's quarters to get some rest since the sun had completely gone down.
They wanted to know if you would be joining them since they hadn't received any news on your recovery from Chopper, considering that he had fallen asleep right after dinner. You had agreed to come with them only because you didn't want to be interrupted in your sleep yet again.
The walk to the women's quarters wasn't very far since it was behind the campfire and on the second floor.
Once you all entered, the smell of vanilla and roses instantly hit you. The room carried a king-sized frilly bed with the plushiest bedding, a wooden desk with a mirror that's covered in makeup and hair products, one massive closet, and two tiny cute sofas with a mini table in between them.
"I'm gonna take a fat guess that you don't happen to have any extra clothes, right?" Nami asked, turning to you. You pursed your lips together and softly shook your head.
"Yeah, I figured," Nami said, sighing in frustration. "I feel really bad that you came here with torn-up clothes that were soaked in blood, and having to deal with our idiot captain. So, I'll let you borrow my clothes with no charge!"
"Oh, thanks," you said, offering a warm, subtle smile to her. "You don't mind me staying here?"
"Of course not," Robin joined in on the conversation, reading her book on the bed as Nami began looking through her racks of clothing to see what would suit you best.
"Just as long as you're not scared of the paranormal activity that happens on this ship, then I guess you'll be fine."
"Robin, stop! Don't say that at night! You know I hate it!" Nami yelled at her, receiving a chuckle instead of an apology.
You settled into the shared bed next to Robin, with the pajamas Nami had let you borrow. The lights were completely out in the entire ship, indicating that the men had also gone to their quarters and gotten some rest. You stared at the wooden ceiling and let the sounds of the ocean waves collide with each other to help you doze off.
It's certainly weird to go from being attacked, finding your new target, and sleeping on his ship in comfort. Not only that, but the things you had heard about Luffy didn't seem to align with his behavior at all. It would also make no sense to make up an entire personality as well. That's also including how his crewmates don't seem to be that fond of him either.
But regardless of how curious you felt about Straw Hat Luffy and his crew, the mission you had to complete would not change.
Love On The Catwalk - The Strange Woman (Chapter 1)
synopsis: your main objective is to kill straw hat luffy. but instead, you find yourself hesitant once you start getting to know him. the price you had to pay was to allow yourself to be vulnerable and learn to love.
genres: slowburn, angst, romance, suspense, abuse and trauma, growth and self-discovery, psychological
requests: open
word count: 4.6k
now playing: pink and gold and blue - you'll never get to heaven
The cold blue sea harshly swept side by side, carrying The Thousand Sunny with the waves that helped take the Straw Hat Pirates to their next designated island. Although the ocean felt cold and lonely, the atmosphere of the ship certainly didn't feel that way at all.
On the ship's deck, the crew did what was in their usual routine.
Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were fooling around playing games with each other. Zoro is taking his hourly nap, which he definitely needed. Robin, Brook, and Jinbe watch their crewmate's everyday stupidity as they drink tea and talk about their common interests. While Sanji is in the kitchen preparing lunch, Franky is working on an invention that came to him in a dream, and Nami is cleaning the various areas of the ship.
"Who in the hell ate all the fucking food?!" Nami furiously yelled at everyone on the deck, harshly slamming the kitchen door open that it could've bursted by the force.
Usopp and Chopper freeze and stay put in their spots, not daring to move even the slightest if it meant saving themselves from Nami's anger. They both slowly shift their focus onto each other and nod in agreement, knowing that Luffy would be the only one to gobble up every last piece of food. Usopp and Chopper stand next to each other, standing tall and proud as they both hand-saluted Nami like she was a navy admiral.
"Miss Nami," Usopp and Chopper yelled in sync, "Luffy did it!"
The captain's jaw fell all the way to the floor. Shock was written all over his face. Was it out of nowhere? Yes. But was it expected? Also yes... After all, Luffy did steal both Usopp and Chopper's breakfast right in front of their faces, and he certainly did not feel an ounce of guilt or regret (since he'll do it again).
"Hey, you guys can't do that!" Luffy barked at them with fumes coming out of his ears. Before he could say anything else to Usopp and Chopper, he felt an uneasy presence behind him and went pale.
He had completely forgotten that Nami was right behind him after his friends snitched on him.
"You really like pissing me off. Don't you, Luffy?" Nami questioned him with an eerie smile. He slowly turned his head to face Nami and her wrath. She looked calm. In fact, too calm...
While Nami began beating the hell out of Luffy for consuming all of the ship's food supply for two weeks, Usopp and Chopper had already started their fishing adventure to save themselves from Nami's angry beating.
Chopper sat on the ship's white railing and kicked his legs, patiently waiting for a fish to pull on his rod. While Usopp rested his elbows on the railing, whistling his favorite tune that his mom used to sing to him.
Usopp's fishing rod was pulled slightly, but he didn't really pay much attention to it since what they needed was a big catch. It pulled again, except a bit more harshly. Usopp closed his eyes and sighed, no longer ignoring the small potential catch. He began reeling it in until the pulling became more forceful.
Usopp tightly held onto his fishing rod, which seemed to pull so hard that it was practically attempting to drag him into the ocean. Chopper abandoned his rod and stood behind Usopp, pulling his leg away to prevent him from falling, although it doesn't really do much to help.
"Luffy! Come help us, please!" Usopp loudly begged his captain in fear of going overboard.
He looked behind his shoulder to see if Luffy had even heard him, but instead saw him lying on the deck, completely passed out from the beating he had taken from Nami. Usopp nervously yelled at the sight of his captain bruised up. Now he was absolutely petrified of unsuccessfully catching the ginormous fish he had managed to pull.
Usopp pulls as hard as he can, fighting the gigantic fish's strength. He decides that he'll give it one last push before letting it go, so he doesn't drown. His bravery was enough, and he's perfectly fine not dying.
"I got this..." he tells himself, just barely enough to whisper.
Usopp gives the rod one final pull with all of his strength. He falls back on his butt, and thankfully, Chopper got away before nearly being squished to death. Usopp's big catch flies up in the air, covering the sun in Usopp's vision.
"I got it! I got it!" he enthusiastically yells at the sight of his beautiful catch. He crawls straight to it to show it off, but instead sees a disgustingly vile, torn brown boot that looks as if sharks were playing tug of war with it.
In confusion, Usopp picks up the ugly brown boot with his two fingers. And in disgust, he throws it back in the ocean. He desperately tries not to gag and even covers his mouth to prevent it, but immediately remembers where his hands have been. Instantly running to the bathroom to scrub off every layer of his skin.
"Hey, Nami," Robin says with binoculars covering her eyes. "I think I can see an island." Nami walks over to the archaeologist and squints her eyes to try to focus on the supposed island.
"Can I borrow that real quick?" She asks Robin, giving them to her in response. She places the binoculars on top of her eyes and focuses back on the island her crewmate had pointed out.
It looked a bit weird. The island attracted bad weather, but it doesn't seem to affect the ocean after two miles. It was covered in grey, cloudy fog that practically looked as if it was going to pour harshly.
"What the hell is going on over there?" Nami murmurs to herself. She gives the binoculars back to Robin and walks towards the ship's steering wheel.
Jinbe was in charge of controlling the Thousand Sunny's smooth sailing. After what had happened on Totto Land with Big Mom, he was perfect for the role of taking charge of the ship's movement with the tricks up his sleeve.
"Hey Jinbe," Nami greets him as he warmly smiles in response. "Is there something the matter, Nami?" He asks her.
"Yeah, there is. You see that island over there?" She points in the direction that Robin had notified her about. Jinbe turns his head and squints his eyes, barely seeing the island due to the massive amount of fog.
"You mean that foggy island? Would you want us to head that way?" Jinbe asks her.
"Well, yeah, I guess. But I'm not entirely sure," Nami replies. "The fog looks as if it's been there for a while now. Like, around 40 minutes, so it should've been raining heavily or maybe some thunderstorms. But the fog...it's just there!"
Jinbe notices how stressed and confused Nami was feeling. He understands the pressure of being the navigator. After all, it's up to Nami to ensure the ship and crew's safety as well as the best route to avoid harsh weather.
"Is there any other island nearby where we can anchor?" Jinbe asks her. Nami shakes her head in disappointment, her face written with frustration and stress that it's starting to worry him. Jinbe carefully pats Nami's back and softly smiles at her.
"We'll head to the island. I can reassure you that if something terrible happens, we have the tools to escape flawlessly."
Nami blankly stares at Jinbe. She smiles as she closes her eyes and sighs. "Alright then. Let's head to the island."
Jinbe steers the helm to the left, harshly rotating the ship to make its way towards the island. As the ship approaches the destination, the weather becomes more intense. Making it harder for Jinbe to control the wheel.
Usopp leaves the bathroom feeling refreshed and brand new, heading to the ship's deck to get a better view of the island that had just been spotted. However, he notices a couple of boats heading in the opposite direction, leaving the island they were going towards. Usopp stares dead into the sea, getting a bit worried, but nervously shrugs it off, hoping that it was just some random people.
"I'm surprised Luffy is still knocked out. I was kinda expecting he would suddenly wake up once he heard the word island," Usopp tells his crewmates on deck.
"Let's not jinx it, Usopp," Nami warned him, not wanting to deal with their captain's childish stupidity anymore.
The ocean's rough waves swept The Sunny to the right, causing the Straw Hats to lose their balance and fall to the ground. Now, in less than 300 feet were marine ships, also heading in the opposite direction.
"Woah woah woah woah," Franky quickly heads his way to Jinbe. "What the heck are you doing, man? We need to get to the island without a fight!" he yells to make sure Jinbe hears him.
"I know!" Jinbe yells back to also make sure Franky hears him. "I'm trying to steer the wheel, but despite my efforts, I cannot seem to control the helm under this severe weather!"
"Lemme try!" Franky yells to him. Jinbe steps aside to allow the shipwright to steer the wheel.
Franky attempts to turn the wheel to the left, but also finds himself struggling to control the mass. He looks to the ocean to check on the enemy ship nearby, which they had unfortunately spotted their ship already.
"Hey, Straw Hats!" The ship's loudhailer roared. "What the hell are you guys doing!? Get the hell outta here!!"
The crew on deck looked at each other with confusion.
What could be the possibilities of the Marines telling them to leave immediately? It was obvious that the weather itself was an obstacle, making it way too difficult to control any part of the ship. However, for their own enemy to warn them is a first.
"Don't listen to them, you guys!" Nami shouted to everyone on deck. "We need to keep going, so don't let those stupid Marines tell us what to do!"
Franky and Jinbe understood what to do and began trying to find solutions on how to control the ship. Robin, Zoro, and Sanji started easing the sails to make it easier for their two crewmembers who will control the ship. Chopper used his karate point to drag Luffy to his infirmary, who was still unconscious. While Usopp took hold of Brook so he wouldn't fly away.
With the help of Franky and Jinbe, the ship was able to successfully fight against the raging waters and strong winds. After a few seconds, the harsh weather slowly died down as The Thousand Sunny made its way to the secluded island.
"Land ahoy!" Usopp eagerly shouts with all his might, pumping both of his fists up in the air. In that same moment, Luffy bursts his way out of the infirmary, carrying a smile on his face.
"Land ahoy!!" he yells enthusiastically, also pumping his fists up in the air. Although he had stolen all of the ship's food, Luffy was already dangerously hungry and feeling ecstatic to try out the island's dishes. The Thousand Sunny slowly made its stop to dock behind a towering forest that could practically cover the ship's presence.
"Alright, Luffy," Nami walks up to him, already getting irritated by his voice. "We get that you're excited, but you're going to have to stay on the ship."
"What!? Why?!" he yells in complete disbelief at the words that came out of Nami's mouth.
"Because you literally ate all of the food supply that would have lasted us for two weeks!? Do I really need to give you an explanation?!" She yells back at him.
"What!? That's not fair at all!" Luffy yells again as he frantically runs around the deck.
Keeping him away from an unknown island that he needs to explore is like an indoor cat wanting to go outside. Except Luffy would always go by his rules and do what he feels like.
"Alright now, let's settle down," Jinbe joins in on the conversation and grabs Luffy by the arms. "Luffy, it is only fair that you listen to Nami after your gluttonous decision. You being the captain means you must set a good example for your fellow crewmates."
"Okay, well, as the captain, I'm setting a good example by exploring the island and having some fun!" Luffy stretches his arm to the nearest tree and pulls himself, leaping into the air like a monkey. The crew watches him make his way into the heart of the town, already preparing themselves for the chaos that will be unleashed in just a few minutes.
"We barely even docked," Nami murmured as she massaged her temples and let out a fragile sigh.
Luffy swings his way into town, almost feeling nostalgic about the time he had spent playing with Ace and Sabo when they were little. However, reflecting on the past didn't quite help with Luffy's hunger pain.
He pulls himself into the air and grabs the top of the pine tree to get a good view of the restaurants. Even though Luffy was at the highest point of the island, it was rather the smell of the restaurants that had caught his attention. He jumps off the tree and continues swinging towards the food court.
"This is so much fun!" He laughs as he swings, "I wish Zoro were here, he woulda loved this!"
The forest was slowly becoming less of a forest and more like a park. So, Luffy ends his swinging-to-the-food-court adventure and starts his running-to-the-food-court adventure. Once he was there, he couldn't decide where to go. So what was his plan? To go to every single one of them.
Luffy began making his way to the first shop he spotted, a bakery. Its sweet aroma immediately caught the attention of Luffy's nose. The sweetness of each carefully made cake and bread practically seduced him. He began floating and followed the scent like he was a Looney Tunes character.
"Hey, chefs!" Luffy enthusiastically yelled at the people behind the counter, who were all too busy to notice the impatient customer. Luffy waited a few seconds for a response, then rang the obnoxious loud bell on top of the counter. He waited a few seconds more and rang it again, except this time he didn't stop and kept hitting the top of the bell repeatedly.
An annoyed 7-foot man turned his back and slammed his hand on top of the bell, not only breaking the bell but also the counter, to stop Luffy from ringing it again.
"What do you want?" he calmly asked the customer with a hint of irritation in his tone. Luffy placed a hand under his chin and carefully looked at the menu that the bakery had to offer.
"I want this!" He pointed to a faded picture of a black forest pastry. "And this! Also this! Oh no wait, I want this one too! You know what...nevermind. I want everything!" The tall man stared at Luffy for a hot minute with no expression on his face. Luffy stared at the tall man after picking his options with the brightest grin known to man.
"So," Luffy said as he looked behind the man to catch a glimpse of the bakers while still having a huge smile on his face. "When am I getting my order?"
The tall man grabs Luffy by the back of the neckline of his shirt and stomps out the door. He slams the door open and furiously kicks Luffy's butt out of the store. The man wipes his hands off using his pants and spits on the ground before going back inside the bakery and continuing his work as usual.
Luffy gets back up from another beating he took, mumbling things about how he just wanted to eat and now he's starting to feel so ravenous. He looks around the floor and spots his most desired treasure. Shanks' straw hat. He smiles at the sight of it and attempts to grab it, but the wind picks it up first.
It begins flying in different directions, from the food court to the fashion district, and then to the small local shops near the neighborhood. Luffy frantically chases after the hat, fearing that it will fly further away until it's completely out of his sight.
It didn't help at all that the local shops were way more popular than the shopping centre in the middle of the island. He bumped into multiple people, not even caring to apologize. All that mattered to him right now was his hat and retrieving it as soon as possible.
The wind that had picked up the straw hat slowly began dying. The hat was still flying, but not so high as before. Luffy uses his Devil Fruit to attempt to grab it, but it's of no use when the hat keeps dodging.
Slowly, the wind dies down, and the straw hat falls to the ground. Thankfully, there wasn't a crowd near the area where the hat fell. But to catch it is still a challenge.
Forcing your way out of the crowd, you noticed a straw hat and picked it up, staring at it for a bit until you looked up at a man with a scar under his left eye, who was yelling while sprinting towards you. Before you could even question if the hat could be his, he ran so fast to catch his hat that he collided with you.
"My hat!" Luffy said, immediately getting up. He grabs the hat from you, but notices the small yet noticeable blood stains on the edge of his hat. He looks at you, who he found strange yet interesting, covered in your own blood.
Scratches, bruises, and more blood on your right arm where your sleeve was torn off. With your spare arm, you held the other arm that was severely hurt. Your face, on the other hand, didn't seem to show any signs of pain, as if there was nothing to worry about.
"Hey, why are you bleeding?" Luffy curiously asked. But before you could even answer him, a man in the crowd began yelling ferociously.
"Y/n!" He shouted in a fit of rage, "Where are you!?"
The man pushed the civilians aside, looking in the crowd in hopes of finding the person he was looking for. He paused in his tracks and scanned his surroundings, ultimately finding the person he was looking for.
"You..." the man pointed to you, the person he had been looking for, as he gritted his teeth. Luffy looked around for a few seconds and stared at the dangerously furious man.
"Me?" he asked the man, pointing to himself in genuine confusion.
He doesn't bother acknowledging Luffy's question and immediately goes back to sprinting to his enemy. Luffy glances at you, attempting to run away using the shadowed alley that was near, but you weren't very good at it, considering the injuries you had.
Luffy looks back at the tall and heavy man, who is slowly starting to get closer, giving him chills. But it wasn't because he seemed scary or dangerous, but because he was lowkey kind of ugly. Without hesitation, Luffy runs into the shadowed alley to catch up to you.
Luckily for him, you weren't able to get too far and managed to catch up. He grabs your arm, placing it behind his neck, and uses his right hand to hold your waist to help out with your balance. For a brief second, you pause in your tracks to stare at Luffy, completely baffled by his actions.
"What are you doing?" you asked him, slightly annoyed by the interference and sudden touch.
"I'm helping you," he simply replied, making eye contact with you. He didn't even seem to notice the harsh tone in your voice.
"Thanks, but I can help myself," you snapped, getting a little bit more frustrated with how little time you had now.
"You're injured," Luffy stated, maintaining eye contact. His stern voice made it clear that he was serious about helping you; even if you demanded that he let you go, he wouldn't budge either way.
Luffy picked up where you both left off and began walking together to reach somewhere safe to hide.
"I have the best doctor in the world on my crew," Luffy proudly says with a smile on his face, breaking the silence between the two of you.
"Even though he's a weird talking reindeer, he can fix you right up, and you'll be healed super fast. Oh, yeah! That also reminds me that I have the most amazing cook on my crew too!"
The sparkle in Luffy's eyes only seemed to get brighter the more he talked about his friends. Although he rambled on about every crewmember on his ship, you didn't care to listen to what he had to say. Instead, you found yourself fascinated with the way Luffy's face lit up when he spoke so highly of his crewmates.
"Hey, wait," you interrupted him. Slowly making a complete stop in your guys' tracks. "Where are you even taking me?" you questioned him.
"To my ship, duh," he answered. "It's funny, you looked smart, but you clearly don't know anything, Y/n. Geez!" Luffy poked at you as he laughed.
"Okay, wait, hold on a second," you tensed up. "First of all, I am smart, and I don't need to prove anything to you. Second of all, how the hell do you even know my name?!"
"Well, that weird-looking dude seemed like he wanted to kill you. So, I figured your name was Y/n since he wouldn't stop saying it." Luffy grinned, still not breaking eye contact. He slowly began walking again so you both could get The Thousand Sunny before you were both discovered.
"Can I know yours?" you murmured to him, breaking eye contact to look down at your feet that felt so unbelievably heavy.
"I'm Luffy," he said. "And I'm gonna be king of the pirates!"
Your eyes instantly snapped when you heard the familiar name. Glancing carefully at him so he wouldn't notice, you felt that same twisting feeling in your stomach that always managed to make you feel nauseous.
"Monkey D. Luffy?" you cautiously whispered to yourself.
You had to be careful with your actions and words to make sure he didn't find out your plans. But how could he question you when he's willingly helping you? It was more strange that it was confusing.
Because of how badly injured you were, the two of you were only able to walk a mile away from the scene of the crime. And to add on to the list of misfortunes, the tall man was able to find both of you before escaping.
"Found you," he smirked before lunging at you guys. Without a second thought, you quickly pushed Luffy out of the way so he wouldn't be the one injured.
Usually, Luffy would be able to stop the attack before it could happen, but in his defence, he had genuinely forgotten who the man was because of how unpleasant he looked to him.
Saving Luffy from being attacked meant risking your life and your job. However, it didn't matter because he hadn't figured out what you worked as, but the man who was going to attack you did.
The tall man grabbed hold of your neck, choking you with his left hand behind your neck and his right in front of your neck. He pushed his weight onto his arms so you wouldn't be able to struggle. But what the man had not registered was that you carried a power that he didn't have.
A devil fruit.
With the power of the tele-tele fruit, you were granted the power of telekinesis. A power you had been forced to master since becoming a part of the organization you worked for, which must stay secret no matter what.
However, because you let yourself slip up just once, the brother of the man you had been assigned to kill has found out your secret and is out for vengeance for what you did.
"I'll kill you for what you did to my little brother!" the man choked between sobs. "Why couldn't you have shown him mercy?! He had only messed up once! Just once!"
The man's muscles begin to soften when thinking back to his brother. Although he was still choking you, he let himself vent his frustration, knowing that he would be able to avenge his brother.
What he had not noticed, though, was a large chunk of a torn roof that came flying towards him. It brutally hit his head, knocking him unconscious.
Right away, you sat up and sharply gasped for air. Firmly, yet shakily, you held your chest while trying to regain your composure. Although the air burned as you tried to catch your breath, you had to force yourself to get up and silence the man before he woke up.
Embarassingly enough, Luffy had finally realized why the man, who lunged at you, looked so familiar. He watched and listened to the scene unfold in front of him, trying to remember who the man was and didn't think twice about worrying for you.
He was not one bit concerned for your safety because he knew you could fight and end it without his help. However, now that he's taking a good look at you, he's noticing things that he should have noticed when trying to walk to the ship.
Your movements and balance were unbelievably slow, yet despite that, you forced yourself to fight. Now, he can clearly see that your injuries are starting to catch up to you.
You push yourself to get up and kill the unconscious man. Attempting to walk towards him, but only able to drag your feet while limping. Furthermore, your balance was completely off, which made you look clumsy and drunk. It was now clear to Luffy that you were in no position to endure any more physical strain, especially fighting.
He steps into the scene without hesitation. His usual carefree demeanor is nowhere to be seen as he approaches you to stop you from pushing yourself any further.
"You're hurt," Luffy states solicitously. He doesn't bother saying anything else or even pointing out the obvious.
You gazed at him, expecting him to express his disappointment with how quickly you had gotten so weak. But he didn't. Instead, Luffy bends down, lifting your thighs and carrying you on his shoulder.
You want to fight back. You desperately wanted to argue with him to put you down. But deep down, you know that your body has reached beyond its limit, and you can no longer move without that sharp pain hitting you from every angle.
"You don't have to do this," You say to Luffy, expecting him to say something. Anything. But he simply ignores you without a care in the world.
"You're wasting your time," you say to him again after a few seconds of silence from him. But still, Luffy doesn't say anything and ignores you, continuing to walk to his ship.
You realize that you probably won't get an answer from him, already getting annoyed with him again.
"You never listen, do you?" you mumble to yourself. But despite being so close to Luffy, he heard what you said. However, he's still silent even after what he heard.
"Once I'm healed, I'll leave. You won't have to deal with me anymore," you tell him, giving up on your weak protests. Luffy shrugs in response.
"Kay," he casually says. "You can leave if you want."
For a moment, you both stay quiet as Luffy continues walking as he enters the forest. It wasn't any trouble for him to get back to where the ship had docked, since a majority of the civilians on the island had evacuated because of your fight and a rumor that had spread all across the island.
"But I'm still helping you until then," Luffy says, interrupting the silence between them. Although he doesn't hear anything from your mouth, you softly smile in response. Finally letting your body get some rest and slowly let yourself fall asleep.
a/n: fun fact, I've been planning this story for like almost five/six months now 😭 I plan on finishing this series, but updates will be slow, especially since this is going to be a slow burn
⋆𐙚 ̊ this is proofread but mistakes may be present so I apologise in advance! might be a part two. warnings: spoilers for marineford. see pinned post for banner and fan art information!
“What are we going to do now, Captain?” Roux asks, the crew in an unusual silence.
They were still mourning, after all.
“We bury Ace and Whitebeard. Then what?”
Shanks looked at the horizon, good hand to his hip. He couldn’t find the words to answer him, and his silence was enough for the crew to lower their heads. It must be hard having to bury another man he knew from his childhood.
“We’ll take it easy,” Yasopp says, speaking to his Captain. “We’re running low on supplies. So—”
Shanks knew it was coming before he even saw you. In shock, he turns, just in time to find you falling from the sky, and crashing into the table Beckman had his papers and cigar set up on. In surprise, Beckman stands up, and points his gun in your direction, only for it to lower when Shanks placed his hand over his, lowering the gun.
You choked on your own blood, your eyes strained from the air that dried out your eyes, your entire body in pain but all you could think about was your Captain.
His smile, his laughter, his unusual solitude after losing his crew, and finding out his brother was set to be executed.
“L—Luffy,” You rasp, using the little strength you had to sit up.
You were running on adrenaline.
“Shanks,” Roux says, eyes on you. “Isn’t she a Straw Hat?”
“She was at Marineford. She was battling Kuma!”
You made out what was said, and everything came in flashes.
You shot up.
“Luffy!” You scream, marching through the ship in a rage, and pushed away the hands that reached out. “Ace!”
“Make sure she doesn’t see them!” Shanks ordered, following after you, but he was too late.
He followed your line of sight.
Distress and realisation, the look that made Shanks' stomach flip.
Ace and Whitebeard’s bodies, covered by a white sheet.
You knew it was Ace, you saw the bracelet on his wrist that you had bought him as a gift.
You used context clues to figure out that it was Whitebeard.
Your mouth fell open, your eyes burn with tears, and the adrenaline left.
You collapse.
Your body doesn’t hit the ground.
Shanks caught you.
He brushed the hair away from your face.
“Hongo,” Shanks ordered, eyes never leaving your face. “Check her injuries.”
The setting sun is what woke you up. With a groan you look at the room you were in and easily figure out that this wasn’t the Sunny. You were freshly showered and changed into a white shirt and black trousers.
The sheets were scratchy, rough, but oddly comforting. You liked the feel of it against your body. You bring the sheets to your nose and inhale.
“Where am I?” You whisper, and as you ask yourself that question, it finally processed.
Luffy. You. Impel Down. Marineford. Battling Kuma. Being hit by Kuma’s paw pad. Ace. Whitebeard. Dead.
You pull the covers off your body and stand, gripping the nearby chair, and take the black cloak off it, you put it around yourself and look in the mirror.
You looked like hell.
You slip on your shoes and make your way out on the deck. The ship was docked. As was another ship. You stand on the figurehead to get a better view.
You look up.
Red Haired Pirates. Whitebeard Pirates.
You jump off the ship and walk in the direction you heard the most noise and as you grew closer, so did their bodies, and the graves that were built.
You force back your tears.
Place your hand on one person’s shoulder.
Marco.
He looked at you, but you walked past him to reach Ace’s grave.
“Ace!” You scold him, lightly hitting him round the head with the spoon you were mixing the second cookie batter with. “I told you not to touch them! They’re still hot!”
“I don’t care,” Ace grabbed a handful. “Luffy and I are hungry!”
You grab him by his collar. Pull him in for a hug. He let out a laugh, and so did you.
“Give me those,” You place the cookies back on the plate. “How can you expect to grow if all you eat is dessert?”
He stuck his tongue out at you. As punishment, you tickle him, and Luffy entered the room, arms up in the air.
“Me next! Me next!”
“Who—Who begs to be tickled?” Ace says between wheezes.
Luffy jumped onto your back and used your shoulders to stable himself as he grinned at the camera Dadan pointed your way.
You were laughing, so was Luffy as he clung onto your shoulder, and Ace grinned into the camera.
“Seriously,” Dadan says, handing the photograph to you. “I don’t know how we put up with these fools.”
“It’s all worth it in the end.” You beam at Dadan.
Your fingers brush over his name. You couldn’t believe it. What the hell happened? How did he die? Who did it?
You press your forehead to his gravestone and take out the photo you always carried with you.
Then, you place it on top of the many flowers that were scattered around his grave.
You stare at the photo.
“Who did it?” You ask Shanks, who stared at you.
“Akainu,” Shanks says, tossing the paper your way. You caught it with ease. “Blackbeard killed Whitebeard.”
“Blackbeard?” You frown, scanning over the print, and pocket the paper once you were done reading.
“What are you doing here-yoi?” Marco asks. “Shouldn’t you be with Ace's little brother?”
“Kuma hit me with his paw pad.”
“Right,” Marco says. “Well, I’d offer you a ride but…”
“I’ll manage.” You interrupt.
“How will you manage?” Yasopp asked. “There’s no other ship besides ours and Whitebeard’s.”
“The same way you managed after abandoning Usopp for the sea, I can manage by making my way back to him and the crew.”
Roux barked out a laugh, Yasopp merely tsks.
You stand up. Look at Shanks. “Are these your clothes?”
“Yes.”
“I’m keeping them.”
He smirked. “Do as you please.” He then turns. “Come on, we’re setting sail.”
You stay behind.
“That goes for you as well.”
You look surprised.
“Seriously?”
“I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” Shanks says.
Your frown deepens.
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Shanks says. “It’s temporary, after all.”
You stare at the man Luffy admired, and for a second you understood why.
You let out a tsk and walk ahead. “Whatever.”
He cracked a smile.
Then, he looked behind him to stare at the graves of Ace and Whitebeard, and looked at the photo you placed down.
You. Ace. Luffy.
His eyes soften.
Then, without you noticing, he picks it up.
Pockets the photo.
And follows after you.
“You sure this is a good idea, Shanks?”
Shanks barked out a laugh. “Are you asking because she wounded your ego, Yasopp?”
Yasopp tsks. “No.”
Shanks was quiet for a moment.
“We can’t leave her behind.”
Finality.
Yasopp nods, respecting the Captain’s orders, and everyone was onboard.
“Uh, I did all this?” You point to the mess.
“Yes.” Everyone said in unison.
“Sorry,” You say sheepishly. “He’ll pay for it.”
You point in Shanks’ direction and Shanks laughed.
You hate how you like the sound of it.
“We’ll manage,” Shanks says. “We don’t have any spare rooms so you’ll be sharing with me. That fine with you?”
You shrug.
“I need words, sweetheart.”
Eeeek. Sweetheart?
You pull a face. “Whatever. Sure.”
“Good,” Shanks nods. “Set sail. We’re headed for the New World.”
mutuals if you see this I will not tag you because I am afraid to tag people
but if you are someone stumbling upon this and also have a oneshot/fic you posted on tumblr/wattpad/ao3 and it's not doing well and making you feel bad, then PLEASE I BEG YOU to tag me in it. No matter the fandom, the pairing, the kinks and/or fetishes, or length, I swear to you all that I will read it in its entirety and leave a sincere comment.
they always say be the change you want to see in the world, so I'll do it 😤 also if you are NOT A MUTUAL and are hoping for support then I will do the same, don't be shy and tag me!!! I'm hoping to see smaller fics and will offer criticism to the best of my abilities only if you'd like, even though I myself am too sensitive to hear it!! :,)
TLDR; tag me in your unknown works with zero comments, I will read and comment what I liked! Send in asks with names of your works if they are on ao3 or wattpad as well!!!
dramatics beneath the cut, no need to read! :)
im not feeling the best about myself, but I hope I can at least make someone happy and motivate them to continue what they like, perhaps someone will do the same for me but I feel terrible asking at this point in time. I made so many mistakes in my time on Tumblr and still am embarrassed of myself and my writing sometimes, when a post doesn't do well I am tempted to delete despite loving how I wrote it and the plot going forward. I guess I just want someone to be actively interested in my blog, and not just specific works.
Of course I love every one of my followers, I always get a smile opening tumblr. But lately my mind goes other places and I feel sick to my stomach opening tumblr and start to shake, as if I'm embarrassed of myself. Venting like so probably isn't the best for my image and will definitely make people feel secondhand embarrassment, but I can't continue without putting these words somewhere
mutuals if you see this I will not tag you because I am afraid to tag people
but if you are someone stumbling upon this and also have a oneshot/fic you posted on tumblr/wattpad/ao3 and it's not doing well and making you feel bad, then PLEASE I BEG YOU to tag me in it. No matter the fandom, the pairing, the kinks and/or fetishes, or length, I swear to you all that I will read it in its entirety and leave a sincere comment.
they always say be the change you want to see in the world, so I'll do it 😤 also if you are NOT A MUTUAL and are hoping for support then I will do the same, don't be shy and tag me!!! I'm hoping to see smaller fics and will offer criticism to the best of my abilities only if you'd like, even though I myself am too sensitive to hear it!! :,)
TLDR; tag me in your unknown works with zero comments, I will read and comment what I liked! Send in asks with names of your works if they are on ao3 or wattpad as well!!!
dramatics beneath the cut, no need to read! :)
im not feeling the best about myself, but I hope I can at least make someone happy and motivate them to continue what they like, perhaps someone will do the same for me but I feel terrible asking at this point in time. I made so many mistakes in my time on Tumblr and still am embarrassed of myself and my writing sometimes, when a post doesn't do well I am tempted to delete despite loving how I wrote it and the plot going forward. I guess I just want someone to be actively interested in my blog, and not just specific works.
Of course I love every one of my followers, I always get a smile opening tumblr. But lately my mind goes other places and I feel sick to my stomach opening tumblr and start to shake, as if I'm embarrassed of myself. Venting like so probably isn't the best for my image and will definitely make people feel secondhand embarrassment, but I can't continue without putting these words somewhere
Synopsis... Franky plans a party, informs you that you are most certainly attending and leaves little room for argument. At the aforementioned party, you make friends— just enough to help you run away from the cops, that is. As the red and blue fade into the distance, a freckled face gets closer than you'd like.
Warnings... crude language and remarks, mentions of substance use and alcohol consumption. Please be advised!
The wind from passing cars somehow makes you feel like today is going to be yet another unusual day with your roommate Franky. It isn't often he takes you on rides with him on his prized motorcycle, considering he drives like an absolute maniac, but when he does there's always odd reasons behind the drives. Once, it was for collectible cards, which were sold out at the only store that keeps them in stock—then, it was so he could go buy lingerie for an undisclosed reason, the owner thought him a pervert and kicked him out, leaving you to buy a baby blue nightgown and a pair of matching crotch-less panties. Franky specifically asked you to make sure they were lined with lace.
Despite your hesitation, Franky convinced you to go in without him and grab the suggested items. If you recall correctly, he told you “the essence of punk is to break social norms!” or something along the lines of that before slapping you harshly on the back and pushing you into the store.
Even with his encouragement, that incident…It's still fresh in your mind… Almost like it's happening again now.
Oh no, the thought of that embarrassing interaction is going to make you sick. More than anything right now, you wish you could hop off Franky’s motorcycle and run off. Instead, you tighten your arms around his waist, and scoot closer towards him, hoping his presence can calm your mind. Your head, covered by a helmet, bumps against his back.
“The Rouge Wave, haha! I went once, but the drinks were pretty pricey, and it was packed with old dudes. Over there's the grocery store with the emo cashier… And Tom’s Carpentry!” Franky, with a rare display of good timing, speaks in his usually loud manner, naming off a few of the buildings you two pass by to break the silence, though they're becoming less and less frequent the farther you head out onto the main road. Even if he is talking to himself, you can let out a breath you would've forgotten you were holding in if it weren't for him.
“Now I want a couple drinks! Or maybe just cola. Why don't we check out The Rouge Wave later on, together this time?” Franky looks over his shoulder and speaks directly to you, forgetting the road ahead for just a second. Oddly enough, you expected him to swerve and drive to the aforementioned bar immediately, but he seems more focused on driving recklessly per usual.
“Didn't you just say that it was pricey and packed with old people?” You question, quickly loosening your grip around his waist. Franky simply turns back around to face you, the visor of his motorcycle helmet blocks his face and yet you can still manage to make an educated guess at the face he’s making now. A guilty one, of course.
“Yeah, well… There’s a couple bars in town, and each of them have very different clientele! It’s good for meeting new people— instead of driving hours to go to concerts and bars trending on wherever.” Franky clears his throat especially loudly, and speaks up even louder, whipping his head back to face the road as he cuts in front of a random car for seemingly no reason, yet another reminder why it's not safe to ride with Franky. “And, y’know, it’s not too big! That means hypothetically if someone wanted to chat with their friends and keep an eye on someone else, they could do it with ease, no worries!” Franky’s voice is suddenly quieter, oozing with hesitation. So that's what this is about.
“... Where are we heading, again?” Instead of speaking more about whatever the bar's name was, you quickly change the subject. Franky had only just given you a weirdly deep and brotherly speech about you making friends and cleaning up your Internet act a couple weeks ago. In that time, you’d been obsessively checking your new blog for both attention from strangers and any new messages from the plague that devastates you, another stranger you’ve upset.
Franky says something, but you can't focus on it.
A chill runs down your spine. slipping inside of your leather jacket just to shock you. Just the thought of him makes you feel queasy, he hasn't sent you any new messages since then… but he always could. If he managed to find your blog, what else could he find? Many possibilities have come and gone through your mind with each being more absurd than the last. The biggest one is that he might be somebody Franky pissed off, and is therefore after you, which could explain how he ended up attacking Franky in one of his favorite games… Actually, you’d never gotten an explanation from Franky on why he questioned you about FireFist. Maybe now is the time?
“Franky! Remember the guy who you yelled about attacking your base in uh… Cyborg… Utopia?” Even though you're pretty sure you got the name wrong, Franky must get what you mean. Of course, he immediately stiffens.
“My mortal enemy. The scum of the earth. Satan’s son. FireFist. That asshole!” Franky visibly grips the handlebars of his motorcycle tighter , and you instinctively wrap yourself around him tightly once again to avoid whatever's coming, you’d nearly forgotten how passionate he was about that game. The whipping wind becomes more aggressive as he speeds up, violating yet another law. “Why’d you have to mention him!?” Franky barks out a noise of frustration, muttering things that the wind muffle as you continue to try and get your point across.
“Why did you ask me about him?!” You yell a little louder, in case he can't hear you over himself.
“Don't mention it! I'm not in the mood right now!” Franky uncharacteristically yells, hanging his head slightly. It's only now that you notice you two have left town, and are now traveling on a road surrounded by forest. That's right, you’d already forgotten where you two were heading— you're sure Franky answered you just earlier, but you were thinking of FireFist! So lame, your head is suddenly a mess. Franky will have to sit in silence while you try to regroup your head.
The howling cars passing the two of you fill the silence.
“Gah! Screw it— you harassed the guy, didn't you!? I doubt it was on the angel's greatest creation since cola, which is Cyborg Utopia 2— so what's even creepier is that the asshole must have found me somehow!” Franky looks towards the sky and drives even faster somehow, which is quickly becoming a serious cause for concern. “I mean, his account was new, and he was clearly exploiting! I worked on that base for five damn years! I'm on the global leaderboard! Now he has my spot! It's so creepy! And you know— shit, a cop! No, nevermind, just the same car model!” Franky takes it upon himself to continue ranting, panic settles into your heart now that one of your worst fears has confirmed itself, you manage to ignore his momentary panic and his going off topic.
“He even told me your Instagram username! That's how I know it was you! Seriously, there's perverts and creeps everywhere, these people have no life, who spends that much time on the Internet!?” He quickly stops speaking and looks back at you, but focuses on the road again. “...Anyways. Radio time?” Franky's fingers hastily mess around on the interface before him, turning up the volume on a certain station. A loud death metal sounding song blares, a perfect blend of guitar and fast paced drums for you to try and not be embarrassed because you spend that much time on the Internet.
The rest of the ride with Franky is loudly silent. That is, until Franky turns his bike onto a suspicious dirt road leading deeper into the forest. The previously bright morning which had barely settled into afternoon has turned softer as the sun stains the sky orange, the short day reminds you of just how much colder it's getting.
“Abandoned house, here we come! Ugh, I really need a can of cola now.” Franky sighs loudly, stopping his motorcycle momentarily so that he can remove his helmet, letting his electrifying blue hair fall free. Only now do you recall that he dragged you along with him to inspect an abandoned house for reasons you’d also forgotten. He hands his helmet back to you, and you hold it like usual, keeping yours on. Once his mane is released he continues down the road, passing trees and thorny bushes, fallen leaves litter the lonely road you travel upon.
“Well, do you think the place will be fit for a party? If so, I'll invite all my buddies this time! Let's hurry and check it out so we can head home, it's cold as cola.” Franky’s frequent yapping helps you piece together the reason why he'd taken you with him to see an abandoned house instead of heading to one of the houses in town, but you're not sure it's more exciting than sitting at home looking at your blog. And now that your mind is on your blog, it's heading to the previous subject: FireFist.
Since your initial post to your blog, you haven't made any new ones, but you have spent time interacting with other people there, and managed to acquire a few mutuals. For one, after liking enough posts to garner attention but not seem like you're desperate, that pretty blonde guy “SaDbo”, who you later found out was named Sabo from other comments followed you back! Only a day after you’d followed her, “NamiLuvsMoney” followed you back conveniently while you were scrolling on her page. There hasn't been any actual conversation between you and these two, but there always could be! It's good to have Internet friends, it's better than your hundreds of enemies. Franky is also your mutual on that site, but he's also just Franky.
Other than your stressing over FireFist, there weren't any other issues you’d encountered. The aforementioned abandoned house was in pretty good shape, and paired with the lack of trees and cameras nearby it seems to be a pretty good party venue, as long as nobody else stumbled upon it, Franky said he was planning to throw the party later, within the next two weeks. Although you were silent all the way back home, Franky ensured you weren't lonely with his very loud singing. The two of you were supposed to just head home— but Franky hadn't forgotten what he mentioned earlier, even if you had other things on your mind.
Just as you had gotten back to town and began following your usual path to home, the air shifts as Franky chooses to take yet another questionable turn, this time it's not a dirt road nor trash filled alleyway— but down the infamous “Drunkard Drive”, named by the inhabitants of your very lovable town. Of course, that's not its actual name, yet the name of this road sitting above the stop sign has long been scratched off. As the name suggests, the buildings that line the sidewalks account for nearly every bar in your dull town, and despite the young night there are already a few stumbling into the street.
Earlier, whilst you were on your way to the forest, it was this very part of town you’d passed. Franky has a habit of naming off store names as he passes them by for whatever reason, and you can't help but recall how you had just passed Tom’s Carpentry. So, this means that Franky is planning to take you to The Rouge Wave.
Just as you open your mouth to request to be taken home, Franky speeds towards a distant sign lit with a comically large arrow pointing downwards, the sign reads “The Rouge Wave.” In one swift and reckless motion Franky manages to park in front of a fire hydrant, remove his helmet, remove the keys from the ignition of his prized possession, and grab your hand and yank you off the back of his bike— but not before pulling off your helmet the same, somehow stacking them onto each other and holding them beneath his arm. While you try your best to make sure the helmet hadn't messed up the way you’d made your face, it's difficult with one hand, and Franky is walking in big strides.
The bright lights on the sign draw nearer as Franky hums a cheery tune, you're not-so-thrilled, so much so that you barely notice the stairs leading down until your foot catches air, but Franky quickly steadies you with a hand on your stomach. “Woah, woah, save the stumbling for later on!” He laughs as he looks back at you, swinging open a dented and scratched up metal door painted black, you notice a crimson color peeking through the faded black corners of the door as you draw nearer. Franky peeks inside the bar, then retracts his hand and allows the door to close before you’ve also had a look inside, turning back to you with an intense look in his eyes. He nearly drops your helmets.
“No way I'm letting you go in there looking like that. Do you want to embarrass me!? Here, let me fix you.” As he clears his throat, Franky removes one of his leather gloves he'd been wearing. He then licks his thumb, reaching it towards your face as you do your best to draw back without falling flat on your ass. While you're focused on one hand, you forget the other, Franky reaches towards your head in an attempt to arrange your hair in a more presentable way. Though he quickly recoils when your helmets clatter against the ground, as does his glove, you're a little afraid when you notice your cheek feels a little wet.
Franky bends over to recover your personal effects, muttering curses beneath his breath while you step below the very last step of the stairs just in front of the door, and only then does he choose to open the door again.
The sight itself shocks you. As you peer into the inside of The Rouge Wave, the decorations catch your eye almost immediately. Almost. The true star of the show was certainly the events transpiring inside. While the unfortunate brick walls lined with paper and posters weren't quite what you envisioned, and neither were the tropical leaf hangings and monstera plants flourishing about, you would have never guessed that you’d see such a thing inside of a bar. In the middle of the floor, there is a red-haired man, in only a pair of sandals, both shirtless and visibly intoxicated, balancing himself on top of a large barrel which twirls beneath his feet. You freeze. Franky looks confused. Then, he looks inside again, and also freezes.
“Yeah… Not sure how that happened so quickly. He wasn't doing that when I first looked. Oh, well, I've seen worse.” He clears his throat and steps inside the bar, pushing open the door wider in the process. Noise spills out immediately, you hear yelps and laughter, sighs and hiccups, the bar sounds so lovely you almost feel guilty for stepping inside.
The moment the door closes behind you two, heads snap towards you, including the intoxicated man on top of the barrel. He stumbles, and falls flat onto his back, banging his head which sounds suspiciously hollow onto the floor, leaving you to freeze under the gaze of so many people. From where you are you can see clearly he only has one arm, with a scar that looks barely a year old— but you don't pay much attention to it, other than making an observation. Franky notices the eyes on the two of you, and makes a point to shift his body to where he's almost shielding you. The barrel which was previously beneath the man’s bare feet rolls across the floor towards the granite bar, but stops rolling as a large dress shoe lands on top of it.
Nobody has their eyes on you anymore, and all heads turn to the barrel. A few patrons suck the air through their teeth, not at the man on the floor, but at the one who’d stopped the barrel. Franky follows, then you do.
A silver-haired man, wearing elegant pearl earrings you’d sooner see on a grandmother, a suit that looks neater than even your best clothing, and an intimidating height. He looks bulky, like the tough bouncers you see in movies and shows or a hired thug, you feel worried when you see his serious expression, and you’re really hoping that's just his face. His arms cross themselves over his broad chest, and his eyes are quickly laser-focused on the man on the floor.
“You’ll need to pay for this barrel.” The man in the suit speaks, kicking the barrel beneath his foot upright and inspecting the exterior for any potential damage done. His voice is rough, like he needs a drink to soothe his throat from a long day of yelling, a deep tone like a horn blowing underwater. But not loud, and somehow soft for a man who looks the way he does.
Franky and you both turn back towards the fallen man.
The red-haired man gasps, choking on his own saliva. A particularly elegant looking man helps him up, shaking something out of his shoulder length brown locs as he gives the red haired man a firm pat on the back. The men exchange back pats with each other, but the well dressed man quickly backs off as the imposing man speaks again.
“Boss lady doesn't like you messing with the supply, Shanks.”
“C’mon, Becks… You know I'm saving my money for my wedding!” The drunken Shanks whines at the taller man, pouting his lip playfully.
“Your wedding? I’ll be surprised when you find someone who wants to deal with your constant demands, let alone marry you.” The silver headed man, presumably “Becks”, shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose with thick fingers before responding to “Shanks.”
“Don't you already got enough cash, Shanks? Or did you blow it buying bottles at Buggy’s clown debut?” As he speaks and settles into his seat within a particularly packed booth in a far corner of the bar, the man with locs raises an eyebrow at Shanks.
Shanks only laughs nervously.
“Nah, knowing Shanks, it was probably hookers this time!” A blonde man with hair that reaches his waist and particularly dark sunglasses grabs his closest friend, snickering to himself in another distant booth.
“Becks” gives the blonde man a look, then looks towards the entrance. As his eyes land on you, he shoots yet another look to the now chuckling crowd of men— effectively shushing them.
“We got a young lady with us. You can save it for when you’re drinking the place dry. Preferably when there's no decent customers about.” With narrowed eyes he makes his way over to the crowd who look taken aback, some whisper and smirk to each other as they look back at you, making you feel even more anxious. Shanks whips his head towards you, and gives a smile that looks apologetic enough, hopefully to the point everybody will stop looking at you. But only more curious eyes look at you, and you have to stop yourself from hiding behind Franky.
“Listen! Just put it on my tab. How much can it be anyways?” Shanks lets out an exasperated sigh, placing his hand on top of his head and gripping at the locks of his hair, averting his gaze from you.
“Remember the time you went into Rayleigh's wine cellar, and smashed all those bottles?”
“Yeah?” Shanks nods, raising an eyebrow.
“Just imagine that, but then add two more zeroes. I’ll go home with you and collect it myself if I have to, so don't bail.” With that, the now even more intense looking “Becks” turns his head, and heads towards the bar, hoisting the barrel up and taking it with him. Is his name really something like that when he looks so scary, and acts the same? You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself, so you just hope that you’ll never need to say his name the way you heard it.
Shanks remains frozen in place, staring at the bar.
Speaking of the actual bar, and not the interior of the building— it isn't very special, yet has a certain charm to it. There's a carving of “S+B” written inside of a heart that you can see from where you stand, beneath where the countertop part of it stretches out and hides part of the worn leather stools. There are lots of scratches and some dark patches on the wooden structure, but you can tell by now that this place has probably been around for a while, maybe longer than you've been alive. In the back of the bar, there's a small window and what looks to be one of those revolving hook-things where you’d place orders. You forgot the name, but you know its purpose from that one time you worked at a small restaurant for less than a week before getting fired. There's also a set of signature kitchen doors.
Franky sees that an opportunity has arisen, and instead of leaving with you immediately, heads towards the bar as well, trusting you to follow him.
You do, and keep your head downcast the entire time. It's less that you're appalled by their odd behaviors, and more embarrassment at being acknowledged by strangers. Franky is probably doing his best to speak telepathically to you, urging you to “be more punk.”
Franky sits on a particularly shredded leather seat, watching as you take a seat directly next to him. He leans in close just as you get comfortable, beginning to whisper in your ear.
“If you sit too close, they'll think we’re a couple.” His whisper is a bit loud, but now that everyone has resumed their previous activities the noise drowns it out.
Both you and Franky move one seat away from each other, leaving two seats of space between you two. It's rude to say, but you really hope nobody sits between you two. You've hardly been to dive bars besides when you’re at a show with Franky in tow, and never ordered anything— these places rarely have menus, and it's not like you can remember the thousands of combinations. You lift your head and look at the other side of the bar, staring at the various ice chests and fridge, the wall of liquor— and the suited man from earlier, who you think might be the bartender, searching for any hint of a menu. He grasps a glass and cloth in his hands, and begins wiping away any smudges. Now he looks like the bartender.
“Excuse me. Can I get a cola? I gotta drive. And do you have wings? Who am I kidding, it's a dive bar. Can I get buffalo wings, then?” Ever so confident and sure in himself, Franky speaks loud enough for the whole bar to hear as he orders. You feel a little panicked, and keep looking for any ideas of what to order, rushing since Franky had already ordered.
Becks nods and gives a small hum, opens one large ice chest to grab a glass bottle of cola which he then places on the bar top in front of Franky. He turns back around and rummages through what must be an open drawer, and grabs a small nametag. He clips it onto his suit’s vest, upside down at first, but quickly fixes it to the best of his abilities; it's still uneven. You feel a little embarrassed for thinking that Shanks’ nickname was his actual nickname, and are thankful you didn't encounter a situation where you’d needed to say his name. You’re not even sure why that was your first thought.
“Our cook is a little preoccupied, do you mind waiting? If you really need ‘em, I can go back and make them myself.” Beckman glances towards his left side, which is even more booths and a small, rusted sign that reads “Bathroom.” with another that says “STAFF ONLY!” beside it.
“Yeah, I can wait.” Franky nods and pulls out his phone, immediately scrolling on it, unfazed by the brightness being on the highest level. You reach into your leather jacket’s pocket, and quickly realize that you’ve left your phone at home, and are unable to pass time by scrolling the same, and you haven't even figured out an order yet.
Then, Beckman approaches you. He's far too quick, and you have no time left for thinking.
“And what can I get you? Driving too, or you heading home with this fella?” He effortlessly speaks to you, glancing over at Franky who is preoccupied with looking at videos on his phone. Normally, he'd help you order… But, this is not normal. He wanted you to meet new people, and forced you into it when you weren't even ready yet! And you’ve got little to no idea of what to say. You can't fumble about like an idiot, and asking for suggestions sounds too… cliche.
“Uh, no. That's my roommate. He's basically an older brother to me—” Did you sound too defensive? It's not like you're embarrassed of Franky, but you can't have people getting the wrong idea. Just as you get the words out, your voice falters. Now you need to order. Your face goes blank as your mind.
Beckman blinks at you, carefully observing your expression.
“Hm. Well, then. The boss lady made a new cocktail, wants me to get people to try it. I don't wanna risk asking that jackass over there, so how about it? It's on the house.” As if he understood your predicament entirely with one careful look, Beckman rescues you by offering you a drink. The perfect time to practice a little more with talking to people.
“Sounds good. What's it called?” You try to not sound too blank when you question Beckman.
“On The House.” He replies flatly.
Then, he smiles and gives a small chuckle before tapping the counter in front of you, noticing your confused look. “On The House is on the house. Free, just for you.” Beckman winks, and heads to the shelf of liquor before you respond, feeling your body heat up at his wink. He’s undoubtedly attractive, but clearly way older than any man you should be messing with, yet the charm still persists. Is this how marketing works? Speaking of charm and attractive men, Franky clearly saw something he thought you’d like in the bar, and even went as far as trying to spruce you up before you went inside.
When Beckman’s back is turned, you take the opportunity to lean over the empty seats and question Franky.
“Hey,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough so that you won't be heard by Beckman while he’s busy making your cocktail. Franky raises an eyebrow at you, powering his phone off and stuffing it into his pocket as his attention switches entirely to being on you.
“Who was the guy you saw?” Franky smirks as you question him, and looks around the bar— but his smile dies quickly, and his gaze becomes more frantic as he searches the faces for whoever it may be.
“Huh. Looks like he left. But, these guys seem friendly enough, you just gotta put yourself out there! Make some conversation, ask this guy why he's wearing a suit inside a stuffy place like this or something.” Franky shrugs and returns his attention to his phone, leaving you wide eyed and even more nervous than before.
A loud banging sounds from your right, like banging on a metal door. You see the man with locs from earlier frantically knocking on the bathroom door, his brown skin looks a little grey— like he's sick.
“Lucky, get outta there, I got the bubble guts!” He cries, banging as many limbs as he can on the door.
“No way— I gotta put myself first! The kitchen needs me, and I'm not running to the bathroom every five minutes!” A nasally voice responds from beyond the bathroom door.
“Who gives a damn!? I should have told Paquita I was lactose intolerant— OH GODS! Hurry up, I think I feel it!” The man whimpers, falling to his knees as his knocking becomes weaker alarmingly fast. Franky clearly hears the dispute, and so does the rest of the bar, but nobody seems bothered enough to intervene. Besides Beckman, who quickly slides a glass of a red and orange colored cocktail topped with fancy looking sugar on the rim of the glass, and just as quickly stomps over to the bathroom door.
“Just go in the other bathroom.” Beckman sighs, grasping the dark skinned man's collared shirt and leading him towards the kitchen doors. The dark skinned man visibly recoils.
“No way, man! The toilet seat is all loose and it's so warm in there, like the souls of those before you remain…” He shudders, quickly standing up and straightening his clothes out. Beckman gives another look, the third tonight, and the dark skinned man quickly complies and heads to the back through the kitchen.
Beckman turns back to you with a softer look, and before you can reach for your drink he slides it away from you ever so slightly.
“Whoops. Sorry, I need an ID. State says you need to be twenty-one years or older.” He clears his throat, leaning closer to you to the point you can basically taste the cigarette smoke in his mouth. You once again reach into your pockets, and are pleasantly surprised by yourself when you find your drivers license there. You’re less pleased at the fact that you took it with you, and somehow left your wallet. Once Beckman takes a close look at your ID, he hands it back and slides your drink back towards you.
Beckman’s attention is then grabbed by what you assume is Shanks once more. When you turn to look at the group in the corner again. You see that he's acquired another barrel from heaven knows where.
Surprisingly, you’re liking the atmosphere here. You take a sip of your cocktail, preparing yourself for any possible flavor… And it tastes like pure rubbing alcohol, so strong that you struggle to swallow it, but you do so to avoid embarrassment— the sugary rim does its best to soothe your tastebuds, but it's a hard job. Franky looks over at you, and gives a knowing look. He mouths the words, “drink it yourself”, and returns to enjoying his cola— he orders one after another, gulping down far too many, while you engage in easy conversation with Beckman whenever you see it fit.
Who knew how long you’d been at that bar, but before you knew it everyone was already leaving— even Shanks, who seemed like a pretty hardcore drinker. When Franky stood up from his stool, you followed.
While you hadn't made any new friends, you enjoyed the atmosphere of The Rouge Wave. To you, it seemed like the place had more to it that meets the eye, from the curious clientele to the creative decor— and the mysterious customer Franky was hoping you’d have a chat with but never got to meet. The ride back to your home was louder than you hoped for, with Franky singing to the latest pop hits on the radio and urging you to sing along despite your head hurting.
The moment you hit your mattress, it was lights out, and your dreams were suddenly filled with hope for the future. While going to The Rouge Wave and checking out that abandoned house was the highlight of that week, then the week after… Franky had plenty of excitement in store for you, and he was determined to get you to put yourself out there at his forest party.
However, when the night of the party arrived, you weren't exactly thrilled. You’d slept all day after staying up chatting with the mutuals you met on your blog the previous night, yet still had little to no energy for partying and talking to real people. Nonetheless, you put together an outfit and hoped for the best, using yet another one of Franky’s belts, the one you had in particular had a circuit-like design on it, and the details on it seemed to glow with a teal color, exactly Franky’s style. Yours? Not so much, but you needed something different to tie the outfit together— and to you it seemed pretty good, but you could also be unknowingly suffering from brain damage and are unaware if it's fashionable.
Do you consult Franky? Jinbei? Well, when in doubt, post to your fashion blog, or whatever they say.
Quickly, you snap a few photos from different angles, ignoring Franky’s shouting about how you’re set to leave in twenty minutes. Just as quickly, they're posted to your blog with a caption asking for opinions on the belt, and even quicker are the responses from your few mutuals, Franky hasn't seen it yet and is definitely focused on shaping his pompadour.
NamiLuvsMoney: “adorbs!! so different from ur outfit and jewelry but it ties it together well anyways<3”
SaDbo: “cute! just like you… haha jk jk… unless?👀😇”
The responses weren't all immediate, but your mutuals responded quickly, and you're relieved that they agree on the belt. Nami aka “NamiLuvsMoney” and “SaDbo”, who you learned previously from stalking his page, is just named “Sabo” have both become precious to you, in a way. Your interactions aren't as plentiful as you’d like, and you’d yet to send actual messages to them, but their support means the world. You like each of their comments, and are just about to close your laptop when another comment from a familiar user rolls in.
FireFist. Your stomach drops.
He replied specifically to Sabo’s comment, a simple reply that was just three question marks— ever so cryptic.
FireFist replied to SaDbo’s comment: “???”
“C’mon, let's go!” Franky yells from somewhere inside the house, you shut your laptop down and scurry out the door, relaxing only when the wind whips against you again on the road, trying to not think about what might be transpiring within your comment section. Sabo didn't seem like the arguing type, from what you saw on his blog, but you never truly know what FireFist can drive people to… You shake off the bad feelings, and hold tightly on Franky’s waist as he accelerates even more, driving down that familiar forest path until his motorcycle reaches an abrupt stop.
In the midst of the atmosphere of live music, hyena-like laughs, and cheers as eyes land on the blue haired mountain that is your roommate, you feel out of place. It's a sudden gust of wind against your skin, and ruins every expectation you had of the night, but it almost feels okay just because Franky is with you.
As Franky and you dismount, he’s whisked away by a friend of his who you just barely recognize. More follow, and you can only awkwardly trail behind them while trying to not look like a complete loser who only knows how to stay stuck in Franky’s backside. He looks back at you and shoots what he must have thought was an encouraging look during his conversation that's both loud and incomprehensible to you.
Tired and suddenly filled with unpleasant feelings, you brush it off with a smile and enter the abandoned house.
In terms of music, you aren't really sure what you’d call it, but it's certainly something. You think you can hear a cowbell and accordion, then bagpipes— some growls and different pitched voices you think are one person but again can't be entirely sure. Nobody is paying too much attention to the band, and most are focused on themselves. From different corners of the room, you spot a pink haired woman wearing a frilly gothic Lolita dress and a top hat, then someone dressed in a band t-shirt with text that looks like shredded fabric, and various people with liberty spikes ranging in length.
All that, and you’ve yet to step further into the crowded home. An angry yell makes you jolt, and you quickly focus on a long-haired man grabbing onto a woman, glaring at another man with green hair who is in the pit you somehow failed to notice earlier.
It reminds you of the first show Franky had taken you to, and how you somehow managed to get pushed into the pit and ended up being pursued by five older men who scrambled into the pit seemingly just to chase after you and mess you up. You also remember being tossed into the air by his intoxicated friends and noticed by the small band playing at the time, that single night lasted only three hours due to the bulls breaking free from the nearby farm and storming the venue— which was in an older farm building. The memories make you smile and laugh to yourself, but you realize it's better to not stare at the two people fighting.
You walk further into the home, doing your best to not bump into people and find Franky and his friends again in hopes of getting a drink. You don't trust the kegs around the room, nor what looks like a bowl of punch on the dirty kitchen counter swarmed by sweaty people, but if there's one thing you know; it's that Franky’s friends are definitely safe, and carry only the best refreshments. It doesn't take long, even being surrounded by goths and punks, because there's only one person here with electric blue hair.
In the backyard, in the back of a truck, you see a blue cooler, a clear container filled with various bags of chips, a smaller white container with a yellow lid on it, and most importantly Franky. The only odd thing you notice is the woman next to him that seems to be in her own world. She's pale, blue-eyed, and just by looking at her you can tell she's especially smart. Clearly, she doesn't live in town— she has a sense of style for one. But she definitely looks more like a librarian, and not like she's at a party. You approach and let your eyes rake over Franky’s familiar friends and get closer looks at the snack assortments.
In the bed of the truck there are far too many people standing up and tossing drinks from the cooler to passersby, you wonder just how many drinks are in there. The smaller container is opened, and you notice what appears to be plastic wrapped nasal spray? You reach towards it without any fuss from the people around, hoping for a closer look. It's narcan, you turn away but are stopped by a yellow-headed friend of Franky’s.
“Grab one, just in case! You never know when it comes to this crowd. Some of these people are sniffing stuff they don't even know the name of.” She tosses the plastic wrapped medicine to you, and you pocket it with a thoughtful hum she certainly can't hear. Before you can turn away, she thoughtfully hands you a can of cola like she knows what you came for.
The blue eyed woman gives you look over, specifically at your leather jacket, and then looks back at Franky’s jacket.
“So this is your roommate?” Her tone sounds flat, but her eyes shine with a hint of curiosity. For a second, you think back to a while ago after Franky had a cookout at your place, when he complained about someone's absence. A woman. Could this be her? Are you messing things up for Franky by matching with him? Maybe you should take off your jacket.
“Obviously! Look at her, isn't she super?” Franky crushes an empty aluminum can in his hand, and tosses it into the back of the truck, narrowly missing the yellow haired woman’s nose. She shows her middle finger and returns to passing out drinks and throwing narcan at people. Franky looks at you but then focuses again on the woman next to him, smiling widely with a look you know all too well… Franky finally gives you another look but still glances at her through the corner of his eye, but he introduces you to her by name.
“And this is Robin. She lives in town, believe it or not! She’s into archaeology, and…” Franky grins and gushes about Robin, until she raises her hand to his mouth and glares.
Robin isn't rude, but she definitely isn't interested in pleasantries or flowery language. “Shut up.” She calmly states, then takes a sip of her own drink. He shuts up after that and you can't help but admire her.
“You blocked me.” Her tone isn't sharp, but still feels like ice water on your skin. You aren't sure what direction this conversation is going in, but that dreadful feeling from earlier pulls itself back over your skin and grips you tightly. Franky is just as confused as you and tries to speak, but Robin slaps her hand over his mouth to muffle him.
She speaks the name of your blog. Franky is still confused, as are you. You only remember blocking one “person”, and that was just a bot. Unless…?
“I was told that you assumed I was a robot. Please unblock me, so I can see your posts…” Robin reaches into her pocket with her free hand and pulls out her phone, swiping and tapping until she pulls up a photo a blog in messages with someone named “🤖”, you know it can't be anyone other than Franky. Robin does not wait for a response, and shuts her phone off. You didn't really get a good look at the picture. “I like reading, but also enjoy fashion. You’re very beautiful and stylish, and so I hope we can be friends.” Robin shows you a beautiful smile, then walks off somewhere into the distance with Franky shuffling behind her.
Honestly you have no clue what just happened. Was she that “Bookmark” account? You're surprised you remember its name… any dreadful feeling is suddenly gone with the wind. You walk, although you aren't really sure where, with your cola held tightly in hand. A smile slips onto your face as you walk, she said you were beautiful and stylish. Franky is naturally your number one hype man, but he's also Franky, and hearing compliments from others fuel your very soul.
Again, the atmosphere feels light. The noise of what sounds like another band playing curses your ears, and the mindless screams from the people surrounding, but you're just glad that every interaction so far has been positive. Even though right now you kind of just want to go home and head to bed then wake up in the comfort of your own home and Franky’s company on another bland day, a part of you wants to sit and be swarmed by people who all enjoy your company. A very small part, albeit.
For once, you think the night can be enjoyed just by sitting leaned against a wall and wandering around with a drink in your hand listening to all the conversations surrounding you. To anybody else it would sound boring and miserable, but it was comfortable enough for someone struggling socially like you.
An hour— or maybe two pass easily for you just by using this exact method. When Franky isn't by your side, you're sort of just like a snail moving about and taking the world in, hoping you don't get stepped on. If he was with you now, that would be a whole other story, you feel like your confidence grows every second you spend with him. That's not the point, the point is that right now your ears are catching on to what sounds like a juicy argument in the distance, and it's far too distant for your liking. So, you inch closer with little regard for spatial awareness, and consequently end up bumping into somebody, a man no less.
Your eyes snap towards him, and his head snaps towards you. In an instant, you recognize him— considering his face is exactly the profile picture of “SaDbo”, the guy who you met online. It sounds kind of creepy to say out loud. But that burn scar over his left eye, those blonde curls, and his barely tanned skin that you recall he posted about getting from a trip to a sunnier state for a work opportunity on his own blog. Is it also creepy to remember that? Wait, does he recognize you? You don't even post your face.
His eyes trail down your body, to your belt. He squints, then blinks twice in quick procession, and raises his eyebrow at you, looking somewhat awkward as he asks you something. “Sorry to ask, but er… “ he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, grabbing his phone as his eyes look from the screen to you and back. Without thinking, you blurt out your blog handle, forgetting the hot gossip brewing in the distance. Sabo’s eyes light up, and he smiles.
“Oh, wow— that's so weird, isn't it? We’ve already met in real life, without a single DM between each other!" He laughs, easily diffusing the awkwardness in the air.
“I recognized your belt, but didn't want to look crazy calling out your blog handle only for you to be some random girl. I’m Sabo, but maybe you already know my name… It's basically my handle, but with a ‘’D’’ between it.” Sabo’s happy smile turns into a smirk for a split second and gets dangerously close to being a chuckle, but he stops himself. Oh. You totally missed that joke.
Perhaps a little too quick, you tell him your name, unsure if it's too late to give a courteous chuckle. Sabo smiles again as he repeats it to himself.
“I don't post my face, so I don't blame you. It's good to know someone else here, I was just taking in the atmosphere by myself for a hot minute.” You admit, swirling your latest drink in its can.
“Yeah? It must be fate, then! So you’re not here alone?” Sabo hums, taking a sip from a red solo cup.
“No. I'm here with my roommate, Franky.” You answer, struggling to maintain eye contact. Sabo shuffles to stand beside you and not against you any longer, but quickly takes to leaning against the siding of the house and chatting with you instead. You follow, of course.
“Loud guy, blue hair? I heard about him from my friend, Robin. Maybe you know her?” Sabo says with a hint of hope in his voice.
Robin? You just met her! This seems too good to be true, you've never had a conversation flow like this… You hope he doesn't ask you if you know any more people, it stops at some of Franky’s friends and then Robin more recently. Also the closest corner store owner.
“Oh, yeah. I just met her tonight.” You look back at him with a less awkward smile. “So you know Franky?” You ask.
“Yep. Think Robin’s got the hots for him. You think he likes her back? Ah, nevermind— best to let it flow naturally.” Sabo sips from his cup with another hum, glancing at you.
“So he's your roommate? I guess it makes sense, Robin says he dresses up like she's never seen before. And you dress nice, too.” Sabo’s voice remains polite, but when he compliments you it feels different. It's your second compliment of the night, in person at least, and it's coming from someone as handsome as Sabo. Softly you mutter a thanks, then hurry to try and think of another topic to shift to.
“I came here with my brother, but he's sulking in the car. And Robin is occupied with your roommate, so I've kinda just been standing here. Parties are better with company, unless you're extremely extroverted.” Sabo saves you unknowingly, sighing as he looks around at the dead leaves on the ground, and the various vehicles gathered around the back.
“Does your brother not like parties?” You lean closer with curiosity, but you also hope you aren't prying too much. You remember all too clearly a particular memory from high school that still makes you shiver.
“Not lately. He's been kinda depressed and grouchy, so I thought why not take him here with me? I just wanted to see him out of his room.” Sabo purses his lips, and downs the last of his drink. You want to tell him something, but your mind turns to Franky, wondering if that's how he feels about you.
“I hoped he would have come out for a drink at least… he's probably sitting in there on his phone. A guy as good looking as him should be out picking up girls, not staring at a screen being miserable all day! Oops. Sorry, I tend to over share when I'm tipsy.” Sabo’s face which had been somber before quickly turns to a smile, and he struggles to contain himself.
Sabo’s brother sounds a lot like yourself. Ugh, you really need to stop frowning and start doing something about yourself. But a 9 to 5 sounds miserable, and there's no fun jobs… Plus, going back home is certainly not an option. And you have yet to develop good enough people skills, Sabo is just good at holding conversations.
“I’m sure it'll happen soon. Different people have different struggles, but everyone feels the same things from time to time.” You hope you don't sound like a robot, or too emotional. Hells below, you really need to work on your self esteem.
One step at a time, you tell yourself.
“Thanks. Hope I'm not coming on too strong, but do you mind if I get your number?” Sabo seems eager to shift the subject, but also just as eager when he asks for your number. While you aren't eager to question your skill to read people, you are eager to hand out your phone number to Sabo.
He hands you his phone with the screen already on “create a new contact”, and you happily enter your information. When you’re about to set the contact name as yours, a notification falls from the top of the screen— a text message.
🔥Ace🔥: police cruiser
Another text follows quicker than you can hand the phone back to Sabo. For some odd reason, the emoji reminds you of a certain unpleasant thing.
🔥Ace🔥: can we go home already????
You quickly press the “save” button and hand Sabo his phone back, tensing as you process the information, and the chaos that's sure to ensue if everybody else catches wind of what's going on. Correction, when everybody catches wind. Sabo’s eyes widen, and he looks around nervously, muttering something to himself.
“So. I don't know if you saw, but,” Sabo leans in to whisper in your ear. “cops are on the way.” He leans back, reaching into his pocket and fiddling nervously with what sounds like a keychain. Sabo is just as clueless as you are on the next course of action.
Do you tell Franky? Do you sit frozen and wait?
Sabo leans in close enough to make your body heat up, and whispers to you again, so clearly nervous and yet still managing to look confident. “If you don't have a ride, I can take you with me. I mean, if you don't wanna tell your roommate, because you know, he's the one who threw the party and all…” As he trails off nervously, the universe cackles in its throne— cutting through the noise of the party with a harsh siren and filling the air with red and blue, and a scream from another partygoer who yells “COPS!” From the very depths of his soul.
Sabo grabs onto your jacket sleeve just as the flood of people seem to rush, and he effortlessly drags you along with him. You hear at least ten people call for Franky, and ten others telling them to “shut the fuck up”, as police cruisers fill the backyard. Nobody wastes any time running to their cars, some just book it on foot, and few people in between freeze and hold onto their friends. You and Sabo try to make your way through the people, but you are pretty frequently shoved and nearly thrown to the ground.
Just when all hope to get out in time seems lost, an Angel bursts through the crowd.
Franky, in a white crop top? There are what looks like signatures on it, plenty of them. He dashes towards you with an amused looking Robin on his back, and he looks particularly suspicious when his eyes fall on Sabo.
“Sabo!” Robin shouts with a smile, and Franky eases up.
From a speaker, an officer's voice is projected over the noise, the four of you clearly get the hint and do your best to run towards your vehicles. You try to catch up to Franky, but Sabo harshly yanks your arm and pulls you towards a beat up black car with the bumper hanging on by duct tape. There's no time to get to Franky’s motorcycle. Dread fills you as you look at Sabo, who you just met, and you shake as you follow him to his car. Someone shoves you from behind, making you crash face first into him, but you’re more focused on getting out of here without being talked to by the cops. Running from the cops is described as a thrilling thing, an experience from your youth to remember for years to come— but when you're a socially anxious shut in who came in with your only friend, a loud blue haired punk, and are running off without him, you wish you could have stayed home.
Sabo swings open the driver’s seat of this black car, then swings open the back door, gesturing for you to enter. You throw yourself into the back head first, and Sabo does the same. Except, instead of meeting the leather of the backseat, you meet the warmth of a body— another man. He yelps like a kicked puppy, and you can't help but do the same. Sabo doesn't wait for seatbelts to go on, nor introductions, he puts the car in reverse and does his best to drive past the running people and fleeing cars, but tosses you and this man with the movements of the car. The two of you fall onto the floor together, and you barely recall Sabo mentioning his brother, who was in the car.
You’re mortified. Even more when you struggle to remove yourself from on top of his brother, who is pissed, at least from what you can see when you aren't being launched back onto him. The car twists and turns, and you and Sabo's brother struggle to remove your bodies from each other, but end up grabbing places on each other that you’d rather not mention.
“Sorry! The passenger door is basically welded shut! You okay Ace?” Sabo pants, doing what feels like flips with his car, driving past a particularly loud siren or two. The man beneath you groans, and you barely manage to sit up on your knees when the man beneath you grabs your shoulder in a firm grip, pressing you against the door you entered from. Not angrily, but more so to stop you two from bumping any more, it doesn't make you feel any better about your current situation.
Sabo’s brother, Ace, turns his head to the front of the car, and scowls as he begins to shout. “Fuck you! We should have left earlier!” He sucks in air through his teeth, you adjust your outfit and zip up your leather jacket for comfort, just as the car lurches again. Ace turns to you, and takes a long look at you. You do the same to him all the while freaking out internally.
Oh no, he's hot. And you think he's angry at you, more specifically. You take in his features, freckles and all, but can't look very long due to feeling ashamed.
“Not you.” Ace squints like he could read your mind, almost smiling. But that all falls through when he tenses, and blood trickles from his nose faster than he can react. You don't know what to do either, but Ace reaches towards the front of the car and tries to open the glovebox, a terrible swerve and a bumpy road interrupts his action, and the two of you are back to trying to get back up and in a seat. His nose swipes against your face with one swerve and you feel his breath that smells quite interesting hit your cheek. Blood smears on your cheek, and then swipes against a sewn patch on your jacket with another wild movement.
“Shit, Sabo! Get me some tissues or something!” Ace shouts, clutching his nose as he leans forward… and doesn't crash into you this time. For a moment, at least, then he crashes forehead-first against your own. The two of you shout in pain, and you hope you don't get a nosebleed next. Ace’s blood drips onto you, smearing awkwardly as your knee somehow hits him in the ribs with another swift movement, his hand slaps your neck and an unpleasant tangle of your limbs forms.
Sabo does his best to rummage through the glovebox and keep his eyes on the “road”, but the task proves too difficult. Sabo tosses something in the backseat at the two of you, you watch three pieces of opened mail addressed to “Portgas D. Ace” fall onto your lap, and a box of tampons hit Ace in the face.
“Sorry, there's some tampons! For some reason?” Sabo does a full 180 degree turn with the car, and Ace and your body become smushed again. You grab the mail, and Ace grabs the box of opened tampons, which are flying out with the vigorous movements of the car. One falls into your mouth as you scream, another jams itself into your chest, Ace doesn't manage to catch any of them. You grab the tampon from your mouth, open the paper, and thoughtfully press it into Ace’s hand. He grips it, but also your fingers, the car continues it's rough journey.
Sabo tells Ace your name over the noise of sirens, forgetting that the two of you have yet to be introduced.
“This is my brother, Ace!” Sabo screams as something thuds against the hood of the car, but reassures the two of you that it's just an empty cooler, as if that made things any better. Ace jams the tampon up his bleeding nostril and repeats your name.
“Nice to meet you..” He catches himself, and makes an odd face that you nearly crash into.
“Likewise.” You hope you don't sound awkward, but there's no escaping negative feelings considering you tossed yourself onto Ace, even if you had zero clue he was laying down in the backseat. He could have been in the passenger seat, but he just had to be in the back. You fell on top of a hot guy, and the shame will devour your very soul if you let it. Instead of wallowing in misery you grab the back of the driver's seat, and try to hoist yourself up into a seat. Ace watches you, and mimics your actions with the passenger seat, the second he manages to sit down, he buckles his seatbelt and holds tightly onto the headrest of the seat in front of him.
You struggle for a moment, but Ace reaches over and grabs your hand, pulling you into the spot directly next to him. Normally you would have tried to scoot away to create distance, but a large bump in the road urges you to sit down immediately. Not wanting a bloody nose like Ace, you buckle your seatbelt and try to ignore your knees touching. The road isn't any less bumpy, but now you can get an idea of what the hell is going on without breathing in the smell of another guy you just met.
You look out through the windshield, and the surrounding windows, but can't spot Franky’s motorcycle. You can see the quickly approaching road, and when you look out the back, nobody is following. Soon enough the car reaches a paved road after a rough start, then you finally feel at peace. Well, peaceful enough considering you had to run off with a near stranger and his brother.
“Everything okay?” Sabo calls from the driver's seat, peeking at the two of you from the rear view mirror. Without a word, your eyes meet a very pissed off Ace’s as he moves his hand to cover his nose, narrowing his eyes.
“Sure thing. I just have a tampon in my nose. Can we go home already?” Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes in Sabo’s direction and topping it all off by crossing his arms over his chest. He's dressed pretty plainly, the way you do when you don't feel like trying on particularly lonely feeling days. A thick black sweater, and a pair of shorts? Not to mention the fact that he also has on a pair of combat boots and long black socks, which makes you wonder why he didn't throw on a pair of sweatpants or something instead, since the socks are high enough to reach his knees.
Speaking of home, you definitely need to work out where Sabo is headed, and get either back home or meet up with Franky. A quick rummage through the various pockets of your leather jacket helps you discover yet another problem, which is the absence of your phone, and the realization that you haven't memorized Franky's new phone number. Faced with the slap in the face that is your current situation filled with a lack of familiar figures, your arms fall to your sides, and you freeze.
But not all hope is lost! You think. Sabo knows Robin, and Robin has Franky’s number, so this is going to be a quick fix. Just as quick, your face brightens.
The only obstacle you have left to face is actually asking Sabo… a sense of dread washes over you.
You must have made a funny face, because from the corner of your eye you can see that Ace is very clearly staring at you. How do you tell Sabo that you need him to call Robin so you can speak with Franky? Easier said than done, believe it or not. With Ace staring at you, the situation feels a lot worse, you close your eyes and catch a mental image of your beloved phone lying on the edge of your bed, teasing you.
“Quit bitching and hold on. I need gas first.” Sabo sighs, and Ace does the same.
“Really? Didn't you fill up like two days ago?” Ace leans his head against the window.
“Yeah, but this piece of shit has terrible gas mileage. Oh– we need new oil ASAP, too. You got the wrong kind and the engine’s been overheating.”
“I got the SN whatever, like you told me.” Ace sounds irritated as he fires back at Sabo.
“Yeah but I looked at the manual just in case and it said it needs… SL or something, we’ll just get some at the store.” Sabo taps the steering wheel as the first few buildings of your town approach, that abandoned gas station from the 70’s and the comic book store. Ace grumbles and still seems irritated for some reason, but he doesn't say another word to Sabo, who does the same.
Until the car starts to make a funny noise.
Sabo does his best to speed into town and reach the approaching auto parts shop, but stops just a few feet from it, luckily on a less busy road. Sabo hangs his head low, and then turns to face you in the backseat, offering a guilty look to you. “Sorry. It was doing fine for three days, and I told my friend that, he said it would probably be okay to make it to the party and back. Guess I pushed my luck.” He twists back to face the wheel, but still peeks back at you.
An opportunity to bring up yet another problem arises, so you say fuck it and ask him your earlier question.
“It’s not really a big issue, I just need to call Franky and let him know I’m okay… But I forgot my phone at home. And I don't remember his number.” You swallow the lump in your throat, and look out the window opposite from Ace.
“Oh, shit. Let me call Robin, then, since they're probably together right now. Gimme a sec… Ace! Can you see if the store is still open?” Sabo reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, looking at the time. A particularly sour look crosses his face.
“Nevermind, they're closed.” He sighs, and facepalms directly into the wheel. Ace looks over, shifting in his seat, and unbuckles his seatbelt.
“What type of oil did you need?” Ace murmurs, sounding tired. Sabo tosses a paper booklet at him in response, and Ace quickly rummages through it. You catch a glimpse of mechanical lingo in the booklet, until Ace flips to a section speaking about oil and the steps to change it. Ace opens the car door, and steps out.
“Where are you going?” Sabo calls, and Ace doesn't seem to care enough to answer. This leaves you in a somewhat awkward position, simply because you aren't sure what happens next. You still need to see if Sabo can contact Franky from Robin’s phone, and then find out whether you can meet up with them or get dropped off.
Unable to hold back, you throw your head back and let out a groan. Sabo lets out a stifled laugh in response, but then you hear the dial tone of a phone on speaker. When you lean forward to catch a glimpse of his screen, you notice he’s dialing Robin, much to your relief. It feels like an eternity passes while you wait for either Ace to come back to the car or Robin to pick up, but sooner rather than later you hear her voice leak from the speakers of Sabo’s phone.
“Hello, Sabo?”
“Is Franky with you?”
“Yes. We stopped for food.”
“Okay, well where are you at?”
A harsh shush sounds, you feel relieved to recognize Franky’s hushed whispers. Less so to hear him say to not let you specifically find out where he and Robin are currently, yet you have a hunch that it's one of your favorites.
On the other side you hear Franky proclaim your name loudly, with a usual dramatic flair that now feels embarrassing with Sabo listening in.
“Well. You know how a bunch of people yelled my name, and my reputation with the police in town? Safe to say home isn't the best option for either of us.” Franky clears his throat and takes frequent breaks to drink from what must be another extra large cup of cola, his daily dose. “So, how about… We go somewhere else? Somewhere the cops probably won't come looking for us. The blond dude—”
“His name is Sabo.” Robin interjects.
“Sabo,” Franky continues. “Can come with. If you're tired, I'll buy you an energy drink, or a shot or three. Four, maybe five. I already have a place in mind…” Franky trails off as he waits for your reply.
You already know the exact place he has in mind, and your answer comes just as quickly.
“Amp Asylum? That’s an entire hour away. And Sabo is having car issues, so I don't know if we’ll even be able to go there. Plus, I'm not in the mood for the funky mosh pit.” A grimace falls on your face as you recall your past experience with the place.
“Wait— what's “Amp Asylum”? Sounds intense.” Sabo interjects with a raised brow, looking at you then back to his phone.
“A bar. With loud music and louder people.” You give your own description of the place to Sabo without sounding too negative.
“Don't listen to her! She's just angry because someone stole her catalytic converter when she drove us there once. But don't worry— it's completely safe nowadays, I pay Charlene to watch my ride and I'll get her to watch yours!” Franky shuffles around on the other end, Robin seems to have gone quiet.
“Who’s Charlene?” Sabo murmurs, somehow even more confused than before.
“Sixty year old butch that works there, she's the unofficial bouncer if you must.” Franky continues slurping on his drink. Robin speaks up and scolds him with a firm and short reprimand. He listens to her.
“I don't know if I can get there. I need an oil change, and almost all the damn stores are closed. No tools, no new oil, and I still need gas. My car stopped, too.” Sabo sounds upset explaining his current predicament to Franky over the phone, you think he might've been actually considering going to Amp Asylum. An hour-long drive with him? With your phone you could have managed, but you definitely won't be able to sit still after the events that have transpired so far tonight.
A shiver runs through you, you feel embarrassed all over again as you recall the events from A-Z. Maybe you could have just said from FireFist to crashing onto Ace, who you didn't even see. Gods, you threw yourself onto him…
“Where are you?” Franky asks.
“Just outside the auto part shop next to that abandoned gas station.” Sabo responds.
“Give me a minute or two.” Franky promptly hangs up the phone after he’s said his piece.
Sabo is confused, and rightfully so. The confusion continues when the two of you watch Ace approach in the distance, carrying a large yellow container of motor oil, which you two have a clear idea how he acquired. Sabo’s face turns bright red as he looks at Ace’s approaching figure, then back at you, seemingly embarrassed by Ace’s actions— but also gauging your opinion on the matter.
Quicker than you probably should have you stalker out something along the lines of “I'm not a cop” in an effort to ease the worries that practically spill from his head, Sabo eases up as he hears your reply, and starts to laugh.
“Last time this happened, Ace ended up with a record. Better than how I got mine, at least.”
Ace approaches the car with the oil, opens the door to your left– which is not the seat he was in before, and climbs in with ease, lugging the bottle of oil in the passenger seat to keep Sabo company. Now all that's left is to actually change the oil, you guess. Ace doesn't seem to care much about what's going on, he pulls out his phone and opens up a particularly flashy mobile game. The words “Cyborg Utopia 2” light up the screen in bold yellow letters accompanied by dancing chibi robots, you're instantly reminded of Franky.
… And the earlier incident with FireFist. Dread twists in your stomach, and an uglier feeling creeps in. For a second you want to ask Ace more about the game, but even quicker you can see how ridiculous it is to think that of somebody you literally crashed into not even thirty minutes ago.
An extremely familiar and equally loud vroom makes your head snap towards the front of the car, and everyone watches a bright light shine through the windshield. Franky dismounts his motorcycle carrying a toolbox as Robin trails behind, approaching Sabo’s car with an energetic stride, Robin seems just as happy with Franky’s leather jacket on.
“Let's get this show on the road, yeah? Let's all go have a super time at Amp Asylum!” Franky shouts loudly, posing dramatically as Robin claps slowly with a smile on her face. Sabo seems just as thrilled and immediately climbs out his car, thanking Franky a thousand times before reaching back into the vehicle to retrieve the newly acquired oil.
Ace’s face turns into a scowl, he curls into himself and turns to his phone in the corner, but not before sparing you a glance that gives you mixed feelings. You too, aren't exactly thrilled about this. Sabo hasn't explicitly stated that he was going to Amp Asylum, but the outcome doesn't look great.
“Woohoo! Let's go to Amp Asylum! I’m not driving tonight!” Each shout from Sabo’s lips is louder than the last, and in that moment all hope is lost.
“Fuck.” Ace curses sharply, glancing at the group outside.
“Fuck” indeed. Now there's even less sleep to be had tonight, and surely even more awkward moments. But, maybe you can indulge in the free shots and have some fun, right?
Ugh, you can practically smell Amp Asylum getting closer and closer. Well, that's for future you in an hour to deal with, until your car is fixed up you just have to go with the flow when it comes to whoever you're riding with you guess.
END.
A/N: (Please like an reblog! Comment what you liked in the story and what you're looking forward to, it helps me remain motivated to write<3)
happy julvalentines day (x2) to all my beautiful wonderful mutuals I hope I continue to be slightly off putting to you all and give you all secondhand embarrassment
love you all but no kisses since pride month is over and now im #straight (jokesy)
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
prguitarman
tangentwithtanner
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
gracieabrams
