lynn

about me

lynn | she/her | in my 20s music and memes are my two favorite things a girlie be mentally ill so updates might be inconsistent currently hyper fixated on one piece but that is always subject to change :/ current fav characters: ace, shanks, and robin

gen headcanons

↳ spotify playlists - music i think one piece characters would listen to ↳ favorite taylor swift songs - this is important work ↳ memes they'd have ↳ chopper's hobby ↳ straw hats' hobbies ↳ wrapping gifts

x reader headcanons

↳ you get them flowers (mostly platonic): zoro, sanji, and robin | nami, ace, shanks | luffy, usopp, chopper, brook ↳ you say "i love you" first: zoro, sanji, robin, ace, shanks ↳ they say "i love you" first: zoro, sanji, robin, nami, ace, shanks ↳ how they'd support you (romantic): sanji, zoro, robin, ace, shanks ↳ how they'd support you (platonic): luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, chopper, robin ↳ where they like to lay their head: sanji, zoro, ace ↳ jealousy: sanji, ace, shanks, nami, zoro, robin

series

↳on the run (ongoing) - shanks's x afab! reader (she/her

↳ playlists (ongoing) - ace x reader modern au ↳ after ever (ongoing) - sylus (lnds) x MC (named)

tags explained bc i like having goofy tags and in case you wanna block em

Following the incident, you recovered faster than anyone would have dreamed, regaining consciousness in a little over a day and a half from arriving on the island. But with consciousness came boredom, and soon you were restless.

Although you were never alone, someone was always at your side; be it Yasopp with his epic tales, Beckman letting you do the puzzles in his copy of the WEJ (World Economic Journal), Limejuice catching you up on the gossip of the crew and town, even Monster had tried to sneak in a few times, but the monkey was promptly stopped by Hongo, and no amount of sulking could get the doctor to let the animal in. The crew had been doing the best they could to keep you entertained. Hell, the boys had even brought in a card table the past two nights to play with you.

Still, it wasn't enough. You hated being confined more than anything, but even you had to admit that moving was a bad idea. At least it had been at first. Steadily, you began to heal, and soon it felt excessive to be confined to bed nearly every waking hour. And to have someone with you at all times to "take care of you" was getting way too old.

It had taken you fifteen hours after waking to start asking to leave, and it took over four days to Hongo to relent. The doctor only agreed on the condition that he came with you. Beckman had also insisted that a few others tagged along as well. You weren't fully sure why you needed what felt like a security detail, but at that point, you were willing to accept any conditions just to get out of there.

With a fresh change of clothes, ensuing a bath back on the Red Force, you felt ready to go out in public, no longer looking like (nor smelling like) the brink of death. With one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your coat and left your small room.

Back on land, you met up with the pirates tasked with keeping you company, and you greeted them with joy, eager to finally be on the move again. A part of you was a bit disappointed that Shanks wasn't there to go with you; you had been bummed to wake up and learn that he was away, but once the circumstances were explained, you'd understood perfectly. It was still unclear when he would return, but you were more eager for his arrival than you would care to admit. You had a hazy memory of a promise to explore, one that sounded an awful lot like a date, and you were holding out hope for it.

"Ready?" Hongo asked with a straight face. The way that you beamed at him sent the corners of his mouth upwards. He wasn't the only one happy to see you in good spirits; the rest of your entourage was too. They all knew that Shanks would be relieved and elated to see you so energetic when he returned.

"Have I ever," you said with a wide smile, looking at the small crowd: the doctor, Limejuice, Rockstar, Lucky Roux, and Dime. "This everyone?" Your question was confirmed by the doctor. "Sorry to drag you all out with me; I'm sure you have things you'd rather be doing with your time." You made your apology, rocking on the balls of your feet in anticipation. A resounding dismissal of your apology came from the pirates, which made you feel a bit lighter.

The sun was out, and the sky was clear. You took a moment to appreciate the nice weather. It felt so good to feel the sun's warmth on your skin again after all this time. However, it didn't last for long; you weren't there to stand around, so you set off on your adventure.

~~~

After a bit of aimless wandering through the town, you'd stumbled upon the market square, and your eyes lit up. It had been exactly what you'd been hoping to find. The past hour and a half had been spent admiring the handcrafted items for sale and happily conversing with the locals.

At one point, you had wandered off when a vendor selling a rare fruit that was your favorite from childhood caught your eye. Eagerly, you talked with the vendor about where they got the fruits, only to learn that they were native to the island. The fruit vendor was even as kind to let you have one for free, an offer which you accepted while leaving a couple of berries deep in the produce for them to find later. You were even pleased to find the pirates you came with buying the fruit to try.

As you wended off to the next booth, it didn't escape you that Lucky doubled back to the fruit vendor only to slip away afterwards. You didn't have to think hard about what he was up to. Early on, you had learned that none of the Red Hair Pirates were particularly good at surprises or keeping things secret, but you liked to play along because it made them happy. The crew had long since weaseled their way into your heart, and at this point, you would do anything for these men.

While wandering, several items had caught your eye, gifts for certain members of the crew: a wooden bird for Gab (or birdie as of late), new sunglasses for Limejuice because his had broken after he'd thrown them following a loss at cards, a local cookbook for Lucky, and a few other small things. The sunglasses you passed off to Lime right away, as he had stated he felt "naked without them", but you decided to keep the rest a secret until you had something for everyone on the crew. Eager to show off the new glasses (and declare that he was your new "favorite"), Limejuice brought the small haul you had accumulated back to the Red Force.

The whole afternoon you had been smiling brightly. It had been years since you'd felt this carefree, but all of that came crashing down when you turned a corner. A man with a face you could never forget was in the crowd.

There he was, walking around carefree, like he wasn't some monster. Time had not been kind to him. His once-blond hair had grayed horribly. The strands clung to his features, weighed down by days of sweat, dirt, and oil. Sunspots littered his skin, and he had a new scar marring his face. Still, there was no mistaking his identity.

The man who had once tormented you while you were helpless. The one who had taken great pleasure out of causing you misery. Terror and dread filled your bones, only to be instantly overpowered by rage.

The man, whose name you had never learned, caught sight of you staring at him and gave you a polite smile. His teeth were crooked in the same way they had been when they'd been all those years ago. Back when they had worn a cruel smirk like it was a uniform. Absolutely no sense of recognition passed through his eyes. Someone who had made sure you would never forget them had no recollection of you.

You saw red.

As if blind to your surroundings, you stormed over to the man. A wave of controlled conqueror's haki escaped you as you felt an anger unlike any you had felt in years. People stumbled away from you, but you didn't even notice. Without a thought, you grabbed him by his thinning hair and dragged him into the nearby forest with no destination in mind other than far away from people.

Hongo, one of your remaining chaperones, didn't know what was happening. Although, he could make an educated guess. The doctor sent the other men back to The Force, instructing them to alert the Shanks, who would hopefully be back by now, of the situation. Not willing to leave his patient, or friend, alone at a time like this, Hongo followed you.

You were unsure how long or how far you had walked, pulling the man along with you while ignoring all of his cries and curses. You knew that Hongo had been following you the entire time, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Your only priority was dealing with this monster, as far away from civilians as you could.

Upon reaching a sizable clearing, you shoved the scumbag to the ground. "Ow! What the fuck, you stupid bitch? Didn't you hear me screaming at you to stop?" The man exclaimed, pulling himself up on all fours. It was rather ironic; you felt like you could have asked him the same question all of those years ago. His breathing came in heavy pants. He clearly was not used to working out nor walking as far as you had brought him (more like dragged).

"Answer me, you whore!!" He shouted as he reached for your ankle.

When he made contact with your skin, spine-chilling needles-like tingle ran through your whole body. Without a thought, you gave him a kick to the face, coupled with the full unleashing of your [haki]. He collapsed to the ground, blood leaking from his nose and mouth. He spat out a tooth before falling unconscious.

~~~

Shanks felt a great sense of relief when he arrived back at Sunwarf. He had been gone far longer than he had hoped for and was tired from his travels. Who knew solo sailing with one arm could be so taxing? He was looking forward to a nice nap in his own bed, but he had a duty to uphold first.

The redhead went off to find his first mate. All had gone well, but he owed the man a debrief at least. Plus, he wanted to hear about your condition. He had received no updates while away and had figured that no news was good news, but still he needed to know. Hopefully he would be able to see you before he passed out for the next twelve or so hours (this time from exhaustion and not from booze).

It didn't take long for Shanks to come across the gray-haired man or to tell him that everything had been dealt with. Before Shanks could ask about you, a surge of haki washed over the island and both men paused. It was distant, but it was there. There was a familiarity he had with it too, but he couldn't quite place where.

At the same time, both Rockstar and Dime came running back to the ship. They tried to explain what had happened, talking over each other as they did so. The tale struggled to come through and all Shanks had gathered was you were at the market.

The joy Shanks felt knowing that you were well enough to be out at the market was short-lived given the current situation. Then he realized why the haki had felt familiar, it was yours. He took off before either of the two men could finish what they had been saying .

~~~

The forest surrounded you as you paced the perimeter of the clearing, hoping to pull your scrambled mind back together — that turned out to be a bad idea. Suddenly conscious and moving, the man came lunging at you with a weapon from behind. One swift kick to the wrist was all it took to disarm him. Another kick sent him flying back.

He climbed to his feet, staggering as he tried to understand what had just occurred. Your mind was now remarkably quiet. You were laser-focused on your target, like a predator to prey. The fear that flashed through his eyes brought you more joy than you wished it had.

Shanks had run a sizable distance before he'd spotted you. Wordlessly, he dismissed Hongo, who left in silence, and assessed the situation. He was aware that there was only one thing that you would act like this: vengeance. Although Shanks did not recognize the man, he must have been someone from your past. Shanks chose not to intervene; it would be cruel of him to avenge you when you were more than capable of doing so yourself. Unless your life was at stake, he would not intervene, but he would remain nearby.

Rather surprisingly, you did not notice his presence or at least didn't acknowledge it, but the other man did. Hope blossomed in his eyes when he spotted the yonko. "Please help me! This crazy bitch attacked me out of nowhere!" In the man's mind, Red Hair was the protector of the island and therefore should protect him as well.

The man's sudden plea for help alerted you to Shanks's presence. He was back. Without your permission nor your realizing, your body relaxed. Shanks shook his head, almost imperceptibly, reminding you that it was not the time for reunions, and he was right. It almost annoyed you how you had reacted, but you brushed it off in favor of the task at hand.

Fourteen years since you had last seen the man still groveling for Shank's help. Fourteen years the pain and anger had festered. Not once since Shanks had arrived did the man look at you. Needless to say, being ignored was not sitting right with you. You picked up the knife you had forced him to drop.

"You're dealing with me," you reminded the man as you held the knife to his throat, firm enough that a line of red ran parallel to the blade. Only then did he get a good look at you, and, finally, the look of recognition hit.

He laughed. A laugh laced with malintent. The twisted grin that had haunted you on and off for years lit up his face. You had to fight back memories to not lose focus.

"I was just looking for you, Princess," he said, all but spitting out the words. That information took you by surprise, enough that he used the moment to wiggle his way out of your grasp and create some distance. Inexplicably, the man's hubris grew upon realizing who you were.

"Did you know this whore is nothing more than a lowly slave?" He questioned Shanks, as if that would change anything. He'd said it seeming almost giddy to be sharing the information. His eyes switched back to you, in a clear attempt to intimidate you with his next words. "I could kill her now and nothing would happen to me —if anything I would be thanked. Maybe not by the Celestial Dragons who own her, but definitely by the men on my crew. We've talked a lot about what we'd do if we ever saw her again. I am very excited to have the honor. A simple death would be too kind.

"In fact," he continued, holding onto the word. The man inched closer to you, drawing a new weapon. "I have a lot worse planned for you—“

You didn't let another word escape his lips. No, instead you pounced. The man tried to defend himself, slashing at you with his short sword, but you just parried the attacks. Disarming him once more, both of you watched the weapon go flying across the clearing. Then you realized something.

That was your sword.

The sword that you had carried around everywhere from the day you had gotten it as a gift from your father to the day you had been taken.

Unfortunately, finding what had been your most prized possession for many years had distracted you once more. The man approached you with full confidence and decked you in the face. Your head turned sharply when his fist connected with your jaw. You froze, blinking twice. The unmistakable metallic taste of blood invaded your mouth, and you spat it out. Then you smiled, a deranged smile, one that sent a chill up the man's spine. A wave of conqueror's haki took him to the ground. His survival instincts seemed to have been invoked for the first time.

The man clobbered to retrieve the sword, realizing he needed to be armed to stand a chance. You simply followed him, at a steady, deliberate pace. Right before his fingers could grasp the hold, you threw his knife. It landed squarely in the back of his hand with enough momentum to pin it to the ground. The man howled in pain, trying to get the knife out and free his hand.

You ignored him entirely and slowly picked up the sword inches from his face, feeling it for the first time in many, many years. Despite the near decade and a half you had spent without it, it still maintained a sense of familiarity. It felt like home. Your thoughts were cut short when the man managed to free the knife from the ground, but leaving it in his hand.

Springing up, the man put an impressive distance between the two of you, drawing a whip from his belt. Something that was also familiar to you. He loudly cracked the whip as he unfurled it. The sound made you wince. It was a sight and a feeling you remembered all too well. One you had tried hard to forget.

At some point, shortly after you had been kidnapped, while you were still unconscious, the crew had reportedly done a thorough examination of you. They had found your "purity intact," something they guarded, despite the threats they made, as it made you more valuable. They had told you as much. But they had also found that your body was covered with small scars, most from training to be a warrior.

When your kidnappers realized that you were a princess and the subject of an international search, instead of expediting the process off-letting you, like would be smart, they had chosen to wait it out. The headache that they had given themselves with that choice had made them mad. The man in front of you had been the angriest. That anger had to be directed somewhere. They had decided that as long as the injuries healed and the scarring was "minimal," physical punishment would be allowed. Somehow, you were one of the lucky ones.

CRACK!!!

The scars on your back stung. Incoherent flashes of nameless, faceless victims appeared in your mind’s eye. You stood your ground, but you were shaken.

"The little princess remembers this one, doesn't she?" The man said mockingly. He punctuated his words with yet another flourish of the whip. It was unbalanced as he was now using his uninjured, non-dominant hand, but the point had been made.

Dodging the whip was easy work, but closing in the distance to attack back was not. The man chose to go on another monologue while you contemplated ways to close the gap. "This whip used to be my favorite weapon, but a beautiful, well-crafted sword took its place. That blade has severed me well over the years. Very helpful in dealing with problem.....product, so to say."

His words hit you exactly as intended — the thought of a gift you had gotten so innocently being used in the slave trade made you want to vomit — but you had to push that aside as you had discovered your way in. You didn't dodge the next strike; instead, you let him hit your forearm, allowing the tail end to wrap around your limb. Then you wound the whip around your arm further before ripping it from his grip entirely. Thank god/the seas that you were wearing a coat.

The man stood there speechless while you threw the whip far behind you, and, like a wild animal cornered, he became desperate. With a sickening sound, he yanked the knife out from his hand, slashing it around. When that didn't work, he threw at you. It missed. His one line of defense, gone. He ran after the knife, the whip, something. Yet it had all been in vain.

As he passed by you crouched down, kicking your leg out and tripping him. He tumbled to the ground face first, and you wasted no time incapacitating him, cutting the back of his ankle, slicing clean through his achilles tendon. No more running, no more tricks. He wouldn't be getting anywhere anymore. Not that you would have ever let him.

The man screamed in pain. Utilizing his uninjured arm and leg, he lugged his body in the direction of the knife. You followed behind him. Upon reaching the weapon, he turned around with the small blade in hand. He tried to retaliate from the ground, but you were out of reach.

Towering above him, your body shook in a barely controlled anger. Years worth of pain and anguish was boiling within you. All you wanted was for this to be over with, but first you had something you needed to do.

You glanced sideways towards Shanks, making sure he was listening. You were about to ask some questions and didn't want a single word to go unremembered. His attentive stare told you that hadn’t been something you’d needed to worry about. You nodded, preparing to finally end this.

"You're going to tell me what I want to know and you're going to tell it to me now."

"LIKE HELL I WILL," the man bit back, refusing to accept that he had already lost. But that was fine. You would just make him see. There was a satisfying snap that came when you kicked his wrist, sending the knife out of arm’s reach. You climbed on top of the man, straddling his abdomen. One hand pinning his injured one above his head and the other pointing your sword at the bottom of his chin.

"You will if you want to live," you coaxed, the unmistakable heavy presence of haki emphasizing your words. From the sidelines, Shanks noticed the quiver in it that you were trying to hide. He knew you hated what you were doing. "Tell me about your crew, where are they now?"

The man's eyes were wide. He would never betray his brethren, but from the look in your eye, he could tell that you weren't kidding. Then he started talking, first it was crew members he didn't like, and the tip of your sword went from his neck to his chest, which he felt was progress.

The speed in which he caved shocked you more than it should have, but it was good news for you. His information was irrelevant, but the fact that he was talking was good. It was only two men you cared about, but they would be the hardest to get him to share, so you had to work him. With skill, you guided the conversation, asking about specific men from your memories.

So much time had passed that the man took a beat to recall who you'd been asking about, but you were patient. As he shared information in great detail (names, aliases, roles on crew, last known location, changes in appearances), you started to loosen your grip on his wrists. Just enough to make him think you meant it.

"Tell me about the first mate and your captain." They were the only two you needed to find, the men in charge. Even if you wanted every member of the slave-trading crew to suffer, you had to limit your scope.

"That I can't tell you," he dodged the question. "Why not? You had no problem squealing like a pig earlier?" You put him in his place, reminding him of the betrayal he had already committed. His jaw tightened at your insinuation.

"I cannot tell you where the captain is because I do not know," he replied coolly. Lies. "What do you mean you do not know?" You pressed. "I mean I do not know," he insisted. More lies. But you did notice a key figure was missing. "Then what about the first mate?" "He died nearly ten years ago." Truth.

You altered your approach. “Surely you know something about your captain, he did like you an awful lot I remember,” you said attempting to stroke his ego. The man gulped. "Last I heard he became a marine, but that’s the last I heard, I swear." Almost the truth.

"You don't think I believe that now do you?" Your eyes darkened and you tightened your hold around his wrists, crushing his broken wrist. He winced. "He- He's a captain for G7 now... by the name Samuel Jones." Ah finally, what you had wanted.

"Thank you for being so helpful," you said, your hand didn't leave his wrists, but your hand didn't leave. "Will-Will you let me go now?" You laughed. A laugh completely devoid of humor, one questioning the audacity of a man who had sold people for a living asking to be let free.

"Did you really think I would let you leave?" You whispered the words out with venom. A million emotions seemed to pass through his eyes; disbelief, fear, anguish, anger, but they settled back on the look you were most familiar with — cruelty. Ignoring him, you aligned your short sword with his heart, but you hesitated. Killing a man wasn't what had caused you pause, certainly not killing him, but it felt almost inhumane to kill an unarmed man without asking if he had anything to say.

"Any last words?" Your moment of generosity was met with a fucked-up grin. "Yeah, I should've put that mouth to better use when I had the chance."

A loud squelching noise followed by a gargle of blood cut him off as you stabbed the knife directly into his heart. The arterial splatter as you withdrew the blade only to thrust it back in didn't faze you. Nothing did. There was no merciful bone in your body currently. You weren't just there to kill, you were there to make him pay. For what he had done to you. For what he had done to countless others. Time lapsed and your brain stopped registering stimulus as you repeatedly stabbed him. Reality felt so far away.

Footsteps went unnoticed by you as they grew nearer. A hand gently stopped your wrist before you could strike again. "He's dead." The familiar voice sounded distant.

It was over. He was dead.

Your ears rang. Slowly, the words processed. The sword fell from your grasp, and you slid off the corpse. You were frozen in time until you suddenly collapsed into sobs that violently racked your body.

Shanks knelt beside you and wordlessly wrapped you in his arm. You clung onto his shirt and cried until you couldn't anymore. His silence was eventually replaced by words of affirmation, telling you that you did a great job and how proud he was. You held onto those words as you wavered on consciousness, your eyes struggling to stay open.

Your exhaustion, be it from the fight, not being at full strength, or simply the emotional toll, was evident. Shanks helped you get on his back in a piggyback ride. He stopped to grab the blade you held so dear and take its sheath, stowing both in his cloak.

As he walked back through the forest, he felt a few silent tears fall onto his neck. While it made his heart ache, it was for the better. Not only did you deal with one of the men you had sought out, but now you had a lead on the mastermind of it all. That was progress.

Shanks followed an alternate route back to the ship, sticking to tree cover as much as possible to minimize the number of people who would see you in such a vulnerable state, knowing it was what you would want.

When the two of you emerged from the tree line near the docks, people were quick to notice the blood on you both and the state you were in.

"Talk about déjà vu. How many times are they gonna do this?" Yasopp mumbled from his perch. Before you had boarded the ship, you had arrived in a much similar way. Yasopp sounded the alarm of a potential medical emergency. The local doctors and pirates alike were getting ready to intercept you for treatment. Shanks, however, walked right by them, not bothering to explain anything.

He brought you onto the Red Force and into his cabin, setting you down on the bed. He grabbed the nearby water basin and pitcher, pulling them closer. With a rag, Shanks gently washed the blood from you as you stared dead-eyed straight ahead. The water turned into a vivid red, but dried blood clung to your skin and nail beds. Although the bulk of the blood was off, Shanks knew it wouldn't be enough. Then there was the splatter in your hair.

"Darlin'," Shanks started, hoping to get your attention. Your eyes moved to meet him, and he couldn't help but notice how they lacked the luster they normally held. "Why don't ya take a nice, warm bath, alright? I got a tub filled up already. Would hate to let the water get cold."

The captain rarely left his ship, but when he did, there were always little things the crew did when he got back, like a fresh, warm bath and often a bottle of booze along with his favorite food. It was a nice perk, but you clearly needed it more than he did.

You nodded, and Shanks set up a makeshift privacy screen with a sheet and rope before helping you get in the bath. After confirming you didn't need any help, Shanks let you have your space. Nearby, he washed his hands and changed into a clean shirt— one that did not have the remnants of someone else's blood.

He grabbed the freshest set of clothes he had, they would not fit you right, but it was all he had without leaving the room, and he wasn't about to leave you alone. Especially unsupervised in a bathtub in your state.

As you bathed, Shanks sat down and cleaned your short sword. Countless times he'd cleaned blood off a blade, and he found the familiarity of the action rather soothing. While giving the weapon the care it deserved, Shanks noticed a faint inscription. He tried to dig out the dirt, blood, and grime with his nails, but stopped when you called for him.

"Can I get a towel, please?" You asked in a voice so quiet and devoid of emotion that he would not have guessed it to be yours if he'd heard it anywhere else. Shanks wiped his hands clean, tucking away the basin of bloody water for later disposal before delivering.

You were too weak, too drained to do anything, so he helped you out of the bath, helped you dry off, and helped you get dressed. Then he picked you up and laid you down on his bed.

"Get some rest," he said, turning to leave. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him. The plea in your eyes was clear enough without words. Stay. With an accepting sigh, Shanks kicked off his shoes before sliding next to you in bed. You laid your head on his chest, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

~~~

When you woke the next morning, you found yourself in Shanks's cabin unsure of how you had gotten there. The man in question was using your chest as a pillow and holding onto you. Your confusion quickly dissipated into something more harrowing and less forgiving. Guilt.

What had transpired in that clearing came rushing back to you all too fast. You stared up at the ceiling full of tumultuous emotions, but trying your best to go numb, trying to justify it.

It had been a kill or be killed situation. Or at least in a sense it had been. It was more like an out of body experience than anything else. There was something so strange about watching yourself go into a frenzy, relinquishing control to unbridled anger. But it was in the past now, nothing could change what had been done.

You had to move on...

...But that face kept coming back. The haunting memories merged with the sight of the mutilated corpse. And what disturbed you the most was that you didn't feel bad in the slightest. You had killed before and, with the life you had chosen, you would probably kill again. But never like that. Never so.... brutal.

Still you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it. And that made you feel awful. A small squeeze distracted you from your thoughts. Looking down at the man who clung onto unconsciously, his red hair had fallen in a curtain on his face. The innocent action made you let out a light snort and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. Only then did he open his eyes, head turned up to you in a dopey smile.

"G'morning."

~~~

Shanks, who had only been half asleep, woke up when he felt your muscles tense underneath him. He knew that the morning wasn't going to be easy for you, but didn't have a gage as to how challenging it would be. For the time being, he had decided, he would give you space, so he stayed in his same position, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing even.

There was a moment where you had almost seemed to relax, but then your entire body went rigid once more. He would have given more than a pretty penny for your thoughts, but they weren't for him. Allowing you some more time to think if you chose, but still offering you some reassurance, Shanks gave you a small squeeze. Just enough to pull you from your mind should you choose but not enough to think that he was awake and watching you, which he kinda was but still.

To his surprise and relief, you let you a short chuckled in amusement and pulled him into your arms. While he wanted to lie there and relish in. the moment, it wasn't time for that.

"G'morning," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "Thank you," you said sincerely. "That's an unusual greeting," Shanks joked, looking up at you as you cracked a small smile. "No, for yesterday. Thank you," you reiterated. Shanks hummed and repositioned his head on your chest, still tired.

"Seriously. I'm sorry you had to see that." You spoke staring up at the ceiling. You still weren't sure what had come over you the day before and hated that it was witnessed at all, but most of all by him...although, if somebody had to witness it you were glad that he'd been the one.

Shanks could practically hear your internal spiral. "Yep, I hate seeing you like that." He rolled the two of you over and inverted your position so that your head was on his chest and his arm was around you. "My bad," you said, shaking your head.

A moment of hesitation occurred before Shanks spoke again. "Do you wanna talk about it?" You sunk into him, as if trying to hide. "What is there to talk about? What's done is done." Shanks wasn't sure how he felt about that outlook in this particular circumstance, but was he really one to talk?

You looked around the room for something to distract you. You noticed something important was missing. "...uhh, what did you do with my clothes?" "Was going to wash 'em. Well, I was gonna get Hongo to do wash 'em because he's better at getting blood out..." Shanks faded out at your reaction to his words. You'd pulled back from him with a grimace. More like you were disgusted with yourself than anything. A far off look occupied your face.

"How about I get you some fresh clothes, yeah? As much as I love seeing you in mine they don't seem to fit you right." Shanks offered, sitting up. He loosely grabbed the hem of the shirt you wore where it ended mid-thigh. The faint touch pulled you back to reality.

"Shanks, I can do that myself, I'm not broken," you said sitting up as well. Shanks was already out of bed, he turned around at your words with pleading eyes. "Please." He hadn't been here while you were ill, he just wanted to help.

His request was simple, you fell down in bed in defeat, "Fine. I suppose that would be nice." Shanks left the room, returning a short time later. "Here," he offered, setting some folded clothes at the foot of the bed. "While you change I'll get you your coffee/tea.” "You don't need to—“ Shanks left before you could finish your sentence, hearing your sigh from the other side of the door.

When he made it to the kitchen, he Lucky Roux and Beckman, the latter was to be expected this early in the morning, but the cook was surprising. So was the large plate of food.

Shanks raised a brow but said nothing, sticking to his mission. Lucky turned around and caught sight of the redhead man. “Oi, Chief, I got something for the lil’ lady if she’s awake. Could ya please get it to her? 'S very important.”

“Promised coffee/tea, gotta do this first,” Shanks said motioning to the now filled mug in his hand. No matter how talented he was or how long it’d been, there were just somethings Shanks couldn’t do with one arm. Beckman stood up and grabbed the plate wordlessly before opening up the door. Shanks followed.

“I’m assuming that blood wasn’t hers,” Beck said in a hushed tone. “No, and thank god for that. Can you imagine?” Shanks responded, attempting to slip in some humor. It hadn't work.

Beckman gave no answer to the hypothetical. Instead he continued talking “Hongo told be a bit about what happened. Is there anything else I should know about?” He wasn’t trying to pry, he was simply looking for honest answers.

Shanks sighed, his shoulders sinking with the exhale. "We haven't really walked about it yet. There's some new information regarding the whereabouts of some of 'em, but it's not really my place to share much more."

The two men arrived at Shanks's cabin and stopped. "Put the plate on top 'n open the door for me. Then you're dismissed," Shanks said, holding out the mug. Beckman did as he was told, leaving with assurances that Shanks would find him later.

~~~

Shanks left the room before you could argue with him, which, unfortunately, felt on brand. Getting up to change, you recognized that the "outfit" he'd chosen hadn't been random. You don't know how Shanks did it — with this man these types of small gestures were rarely coincidental — but he'd brought you your favorite comfy clothes, one of the few things you had packed before leaving [ISLAND/Lakekeep].

After getting dressed, you sat on the bed, playing with a loose thread on your shirt. The ship rocked gently in the harbor, the waves providing a sense of stability that you appreciated. You weren't sure how to move forward at the moment. Your mind was vacant yet somehow still occupied. Everything felt off but you couldn't fully place why. It was almost as if you didn't know yourself anymore.

Yet, there was an undeniable serenity you had felt once that man had died. The world felt lighter without him in it. How do you grapple with such a thing? Especially when it was done by your hands? Those were the questions that slipped into your mind through all of the peace... but was that really the right word for it?

Two sets of footsteps echoed down the hallway and you forced all of your existential thoughts away. The door opened, revealing Shanks.

"That's more than coffee/tea," you commented after the door opened. In his hand was, yes the drink he promised you, but also a large plate of something. "Lucky said it was very important to get this to you," he smiled. Shanks kicked the door shut behind him and offered you the plate full of food with a bow. You rolled your eyes at his antics but laughed anyway. Shanks set the mug down on the table beside you after you accepted the plate. Then, he'd turned the chair at his desk towards you and sat down.

Looking closer at what you were given and realized two things. Not only was the fruit from yesterday's market there, but there was also your favorite breakfast of all time. You have no idea how Lucky knew that, it must've come up at some point but you couldn't remember for the life of you. Tears welled up in your eyes. When was the last time someone had been this kind to you? Feeling cared for in this way hadn't been something you'd experienced since you'd been back in your kingdom. Your heart was filled with gratitude, but something undercut it all.

Would Lucky have done this if he had known what you had done yesterday?

"They're all worried about you, you know," Shanks said. "They shouldn't be," you mumbled, taking a small bite of food. It was delicious, it made you wish that you were hungrier, but it was hard to stomach anything while still grappling with what you had done. "Don't tell them that," Shanks said in jest, but with the tell tale signs of worry interwoven. You didn't like feeling like you were fragile, but that's just what you were right now; fragile.

"Nobody's gonna see you any differently if that's what you are worried about," Shanks stated with a soft smile. "There's not a man onboard who hasn't killed before. It's not something any of us enjoy, but sometimes it the only choice. The first one is always the hardest—"

"I've killed before," you interrupted, devoid of any emotion.

Shanks should've known that you would feel that way, he knew you blamed yourself for a lot of deaths, but when he met your eyes he realized that you had meant by your own hands. Shanks swallowed. He'd known you had suffered more than your fair share in the past — more than anyone should in a dozen lifetimes — but he had only started to grasp the true weight of what you had been through.

"This time it just feels...different," you admitted, poking around at your food. You had never had a sense of relief when you'd taken a life beyond the notion that you had survived a life or death situation. This time the relief hadn't just lingered, but had grown. "Freeing I bet," Shanks said. The words fit, no matter how much you didn't want them too.

"I dunno, maybe," you said, ending the conversation by eating your food. You tried to force an appetite, getting through half of the plate, but you weren't sure if you could stomach anymore. You hoped Lucky wouldn't feel bad that you couldn't finish it.

Shanks waited until all you were doing was pushing your food around to ask the question that he was always going to ask; not "what the hell came over you?" or "who was that man?" or even simply "why?", but "What do you want to do now?"

~~~

The floorboards creaked beneath you as you paced back and forth in the ship's office, where all of your worst conversations seemed to happen. Shanks had gone to grab the two men you had requested.

Although progress in finding the pirates who had taken you as a child had been made, your insides turned at the prospect of confiding/confessing what you had done to get them. Shanks had said not to worry about them looking at you differently, but a part of your mind told you that couldn't possibly be true.

Sure, they were pirates and not civilians who lived without blood on their hands, and maybe Shanks's view of you obviously had remained the same despite being an eyewitness, but you were disgusted with yourself.

It hadn't been the first time you'd killed and it wouldn't be the last, but this time had been unique. Never before had you been so...brutal.

Beckman and Hongo, followed by Shanks all entered the room. You stopped your pacing. The two men knew the reason for the meeting without any explanation, they could be smart like that. Somehow, the serious men became serious-er. To your relief, the first mate and the doctor gave you space without you requesting it.

"So about yesterday..." You trailed off, not sure how to start it, you weren't even sure how to meet their eyes. "I uh... I killed a man." That felt like an understatement, but it was the only way you could stomach admitting it. The men stayed patient with you as you struggled through the words.

"He was someone from my past. Someone bad. Someone cruel. Someone viscous." There you went, trying to justify your actions. The descriptors were apt, but from your mouth they had felt more like you were searching for atonement than painting a picture. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to meet their gaze.

"I never imagined I would just stumble on into him without trying, but because of it we have some new leads on the crew. So a happy accident?" You tried to laugh, but it came out as an anxious chuckle. Nothing about this was funny.

Beckman and Hongo exchanged a look. A look you knew, one that spoke in volumes. You stopped. "What aren't you telling me?"

The men looked at each other for a moment, under the gaze of both you and their captain. Beckman took the lead, squaring his shoulders to prepare for a blowback unlike any shotgun. "It's unlikely that it was a coincidence that that guy was here." Your eyebrows furrowed as his words sat with you.

"The first night after we arrived, while you were still unconscious, we caught somebody trying to sneak into the room you were in," Beckman continued. His fingers itched to grab a cigarette, something to cling too, but he refrained, accepting that they had made their choice days before. "He had your bounty poster in his back pocket."

You went silent, a small "oh" escaping your lips. A part of you couldn't help but feel betrayed. Shouldn't you know about these sorts of things?

"Was he armed?" Shanks's asked, his voice harsh. "Yes," Beck responded honestly. "And I didn't hear about this because?" Shanks questioned, his nostrils flared.

"You needed to maintain some focus, your mind was already split—“

"That's not for you to decide," Shanks sharply cut Beckman off. He wasn't the type of man to anger easily, much less by his own crew, but there he was glaring at his first mate.

Beck sighed, but he had dug this grave now it was time to lay in it. "We thought it had been handled. He didn't make it past the window before we got him. There was no sign that he was anything other than a bounty hunter. She was never left alone afterwards. Someone was always in the room with her. We had people stationed outside of the door and window too. There was a schedule."

You had thought the constant supervision to be strange, but had brushed it off as concern for your wellbeing. While you were technically right about that, it was in a very different way. You didn't know what to think.

"We took every precautionary measure we could think of," Hongo stepped in. "It seems likely that he was involved, but we had no way of knowing. Hell, most of the crew doesn't know what's going on/what she's running from." Everything he said, he'd said gently, but it wasn't met in kind. "That's not for them to know," Shanks snapped.

"No. They probably should know," you spoke up in a hushed tone/faintly. You wrapped your arms around yourself, not flinching at the faint pain touching your side brought. Just like the wounds from your past, the gunshot wound that had brought you here hadn't healed. Life had a funny way of drawing parallels like that. "It's only fair that they have some idea what's going on."

"You don't need to tell them," Shanks said softly, his demeanor shifting entirely as he looked at you.

"I know they don't, and maybe not all of them need to know, but I dragged you all into this mess. I can't let them stay blind to it." Your arms tightened around your torso, the pain forcing you to stay grounded and not in your head.

"You didn't drag us into anything," Beckman said gruffly, as if it were fact as true as the water was blue.

"You got involved," you countered. "It was our choice," Hongo said. Doubtful, you looked at the captain, the man who called the shots. "It's true," the doctor reiterated. Your shoulders fell in acceptance.

"I still want to tell them," you whispered. A look was shared between the three pirates in the room, the silent conversation ended when Shanks nodded. "Okay," he exhaled. "Who do you want to know?"

~~~

By the time the last senior officers were entering the office, you looked like you were going to be sick, and maybe you were. Your stomach had been tying in knots. What was worse, sharing the tale of how your hands acquired new blood or sharing details of your past? You weren't sure.

You were leaning back against the grand desk, legs crossed in front of you, trying to seem unassuming. At some point you had thrown on an old sweatshirt, the sleeves of which you were fiddling with, poking at the holes from where the fabric had given way to time.

Shanks entered the room with a sigh after rounding everyone up. He shut the door behind him. The office didn't feel as big when ten full grown adults were crammed in it. Some chatter between the men filled the room

"Listen up lads! This lovely lady's got something to say!" Shanks said drawing attention to you. His words were light but his tone was not, the grim voice was far from the jovial lilt it usually had. The room silenced, understanding the severity at hand.

You gave Shanks a small smile, one that refused to meet your eyes. Although you had suggested it, this wasn't something you'd been eager to do, and now, with the full attention of band of pirates, you wished you could go back and change your mind. But you knew that it was something you should do, something you felt like you had to do.

"I don't even know how to start this," you admitted, feeling defeated already. "All good stories start at the beginning," Yasopp said with an encouraging smile. "So it all started when I was born..." You started, baffled why you would try that to begin with. No one laughed, not even a chuckle. You cleared your throat.

"You've all been so kind to me and I cannot thank you enough. Helping me and treating me the way you did when I was really nothing but a stranger to you, even when it was an inconvenience. I will never forget what you've done for me," you tried again, speaking from the heart.

"Are you leaving?" Lucky Roux questioned sounding extremely concerned, in fact the room was almost on edge. You made eye contact with Shanks. "I...uh, I wasn't planning on it....at least not right now....if that's okay?" The room seemed to collectively give a sigh of relief. Shanks smiled and nodded, he'd meant it when he'd said you could stay.

"But, because of that I feel like it is only fair to share a few things with you. So, as you all know, the government doesn't like me very much, we're kinda the same that way," you said motioning to everyone in the room. The easy part was sharing things that they already knew. "I grew up as a princess in [KINGDOM] and one night, about fourteen, probably closer to fifteen years ago, back when I was a dumb teenager, I snuck out of the castle. I went out drinking like I liked to do and had much more than I had any right to, which was none. I was entirely underage."

The story was about to get grim, so you wrapped your arms around yourself as a comfort. "I don't know how but after that I found myself on the sea, in a cage with cuffs on. I wasn't the only one, far from it." Your hands dug into your sides and you swallowed harshly. "I never learned any names, but I remember all of their faces. The captain had a devil fruit. I wasn't able to figure out what it was, but one touch would put you to sleep. I heard he could also make people hallucinate, but I never had the pleasure.

"Later I learned that they had kept me for months. Apparently they were waiting for the heat to die down before..." You couldn't bring yourself to finish that sentence, so you left it hanging in the air. "I was lucky though." You stopped once more, remembering all of those who weren't as lucky as you. Tears welled in your eyes and your lip wobbled. Your fingers dug into your side, the pain of the tender wound felt refreshing.

"You don't have to continue," someone said, a sentiment that was echoed with several nods. You hadn't realized that you were crying until you heard your sniffle. "I have a point I swear. I didn't get you for a sob story," you said as you wiped the tears away.

"That guy some of you saw yesterday, he was one of them. Probably the worst, at least to me. I'm happy to report that he is dead." You thought about your next words and said them anyways. "I wish I could kill him again." There was a venom in your voice that took most of the room aback, especially Shanks, who had seen how much you were struggling with what you'd done. If recalling that man's actions made you rewrite your moral code so strongly, Shanks wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"The good news is that we now got some information on the remaining members of the crew. Shanks and I have been talking and he agreed to help me track them down. Or at lest some of them." You stopped and looked to the man for confirmation. "As many as you want," he nodded, and you continued. "The captain is a marine now, that much we know but some of the names are harder to find."

"Looks like we'll finally have some fun around here," Limejuice said, you turned to the man, perplexed. "It's been a bit since we've fought with the marines," Building Snake commented, adding to your confusion. "We're going after them, are we not?" Snake huffed.

"Uh...we?" You questioned, as if you had never even thought of the possibility of more help. "Yes 'we,' Who do you think you are?" Limejuice said, sounding offended. There was a rumble of agreement. The thought of asking the crew for help had, in fact, not crossed your mind, all you had asked for from Shanks was help tracking them down, you hadn't expected the enthusiasm from his crew to do much more.

Across the room Shanks had a twinkle in his eyes, one that read clear through the room when you'd gone to look at him, almost as if to say "It was silly of you to expect anything different."

~~~

Later that night, well after The Red Force had left Sunwarf, another famous Red Hair banquet was in swing. The crew had declared it a "you're healthy!" party, and for once you believed their excuse. With the night's stars becoming brighter and the celebration in full swing you found yourself on the forec's'le of the ship, leaning against the railings between two of the cannons. The sounds of music and laughter still reached you, but they were muted. It was a great place to think, or as good as you were gonna get.

The mind wasn't always a kind thing, your mind had been being especially cruel and you hadn't been willing to bring down the vibe, so you disappeared for a little bit. Time alone was exactly what you'd needed. Salt air seeps into your nostrils and soft spray occasionally brushed your skin. It was relaxing.

The day had been awfully emotional, and the crew, the band of roughened older men, had been exceptionally kind. Yasopp had casually brought you your sword, clean and polished like the day it'd been gifted to you. He'd blushed like a mad man when you'd tried to express your gratitude. Building Snake had brought you a book to borrow, Bonk punch had just happeend to be playing your favorite songs whenever you'd walked by. Monster had even tried to groom you, which apparently wasn't something he did without permission (anymore), but you'd read it as the monkey not knowing how to express his emotions in a more human form. Feeling cared for like this hadn't been something you'd experienced in a long, long time.

"Y'know, some might find it rude for teh guest of honor to slip away," a voice said behind you. You turn to find Shanks at the top of the stairs up to the front deck and approaching.

"I'm not slipping away, I just needed a moment," you said, turning back to the sea, waiting for the man to join you. "That seems fair," Shanks said arriving at your side, leaving a respectable space between the two of you.

"What's on your mind?" Shanks questioned after a moment. "Oh, you know, thoughts," you answered. "You tend to be having a lot of those lately," your staring out at nothing multiple times throughout the day had not gone unnoticed by Shanks. "It's a byproduct of living," you said dismissively. "I do like it when you do that," Shanks admitted.

The conversation lulled, for a while it was just the two of you there, enjoying each other's company in the silence. "I wanted to ask you a question," Shanks said, breaking th silence. You turned to him with your head cocked, a signal for him to continue. "What do you have planned for the future... What do you want out of life?"

Another long pause followed before you spoke. "I've never really thought that far ahead." The types of futures you had dreamed of in the past were no longer possible. "Being alive and not constantly looking over my shoulder was all I could really ask for, but I suppose that's not really in the cards now."

"Not anymore, I fear," Shanks confirmed. He wasn't the type to lie or sugarcoat the truth to make it easier to swallow, you supposed you appreciated that about him. "But you don't have to do it alone, not when we got your back." Shanks nudged you in the shoulder with his own, giving you a kind smile.

"You got as much time and space as you need to figure it out, just let me know when you do." With that, he made his exit, slipping off into the night and rejoining the party.

thank you for reading!! 💕

a/n: the next one is going to be more fun i promise, and, assuming everything goes according to plan, there will be smut so yay :)

tags: @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @eravariety @a3fv @kezibear