Dawn's Archive

Request Information

Requests will always be open on this blog but of course, I can't guarantee that I will have time to write them with a specific timeframe. There's plenty of factors but mainly, I travel over 2 months of the year usually and work can sometimes be very annoying.

Inspiration is also fickle so sometimes I can crank out thousands of words a day, other times less so.

Rules:

I'm very light on rules but there are one or two things I won't write about:

Smut/Romance Involving Children or Animals (Obvious, yes, but needs saying)

Pregnancy

I do write headcanons, drabbles, and long-form content in pretty much all formats. Smut, angst, and fluff are all welcome.

If you want something multi-chapter, I cannot accept anon asks. I want to talk it over with you properly to get an idea of what you're looking for in terms of plot and certain scenes.

The Poly Series Stuff:

I write a decent amount of poly stuff and I actually really enjoy doing it but if you're asking something with multiple characters, please specify how you want the relationship to be. Like if you have three other characters, are they also in a relationship with each other or just the reader.

Dividers From Saradika-Graphics

You gave him a look and he poured you a second cup of tea to clutch as a lifeline. He was enjoying this.

“You’re confusing everyone,” he told you. “Nobody knows what to believe anymore. From what I’ve heard, there are rumours abounding between every division.”

“Am I your personal source of entertainment now?” you asked.

“Very much so.”

“Izou,” you said, your voice a soft whine.

He shrugged. “Consider it payment.”

You refused to ask him what it was for because you already knew the answer and he would definitely say it in the middle of the dining hall. Wasn’t he meant to be your friend and not enjoy your torment?

You shrunk further against his side. “Can’t you let a woman hide from gossip in peace?”

He took the opportunity to immediately lean down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “No. You started all these rumours, you can deal with everybody wanting to know more.”

The brush of his voice so close to your ear sent a shiver through your spine but you didn’t move, sure as you were that every person in the entire dining room had seen this.

Izou straightened and you shot him a withering look. “You’re going to make your captain throw me off this ship.”

“On the contrary, Pops is finding this very entertaining too.”

“Then I’ll leave early by myself.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“Izou – ”

Before you could complain about how bossy he was being, he caught your jaw. You stilled immediately, heart screeching to a halt as his fingers brushed over the lines of your face. He tilted your head back very pointedly.

“If you wanted a place to hide, you chose the wrong person. I’m quite invested in making sure nobody forgets the obvious because of all this new information running about.”

You blinked, your mind wiped clear for a second as you thought he might kiss you again. Something you really wouldn’t have minded at that moment. But whatever expression you made must have been what he was looking for because he immediately released you.

To be fair, you had known he wasn’t going to ignore the bouncing rumours but you hadn’t quite guessed he’d become this blatant about refuting them.

“You’re cruel,” you managed after a second.

“I am.”

You got halfway through your meal before you finally got a reprieve in the form of Namur who, clearly unbothered by the strange situation, approached you with an offer.

“There’s a small island on the horizon,” he said. “Thought you might want to take the opportunity to see the reefs. It might not be the greatest views but I remembered you asked after about it.”

“Absolutely,” you said, eternally grateful for the interruption to what would have otherwise been a day of constant attention. “When do we arrive?”

“Around an hour. Will you join us Izou?”

“No,” Izou said simply. “I have a long list of problems to handle today. Though I’m certain you can find somebody to join if you’re seeking additional company.”

You thanked Namur and he left and you couldn’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief. That also gave you another reason to avoid your problems for a bit longer. Not forever but a small break would be nice.

Especially given the absolute terror you called your closest friend who rose elegantly beside you. Izou leaned in as though to whisper something and you tilted your head toward him only for him to instead, press a kiss very pointedly where your shoulder met your neck. You jolted in surprise, spinning on him with wide eyes.

“Enjoy yourself,” he said. “It’ll be good for you to get some fresh air.”

You grumbled slightly as he left, torn between the embarrassment of being seen and just how much you had liked the contact. You liked it a little less though when, an hour later, Namur pointed out the very obvious lipstick mark on your throat.

You’d walked through the entire ship and not even noticed…

At least, by the time you pulled yourself up onto your small boat, lounging back against the edge with water droplets still cool against your skin, most of your worries felt very far away. Not far enough away that you couldn’t see the Moby Dick, motionless where she anchored, but distant enough to ignore for the time being.

The island she waited near was a small, uninhabited one that most of the second division had taken the opportunity to scout. Most being an important distinction because your small, one-person boat was quite crowded thanks to their commander.

Ace’s legs bumped into your own, his hat pulled over his eyes but his grin broad. The heat was much appreciated with your limbs still heavy and aching from the salt water.

“The reefs are fantastic,” you said to Namur.

He nodded, floating with his head just above the surface. “They are a little barren of life in this area,” he said. “If you want to see larger schools, we can move further along the coast. I think the ships have disturbed most of them.”

Ace’s skiff probably hadn’t helped with its loud arrival but you didn’t mind.

Though as much as you wished you could try further, you knew you didn’t quite have the energy for it. Only a few short minutes in the ocean and your body was exhausted, skin perpetually chilled. Even with Namur doing most of the work in supporting you through the reefs, you couldn’t head down again.

“Might have to try another day,” you said. “I think I’m done.”

“Too cold?” Ace asked. “Cause I can warm you up if you need?”

“Too tired,” you said, countering his eager grin with a look.

Namur nodded toward the beach. “Perhaps a rest then. I don’t think you’ll need to return to the ship soon.”

“Probably not,” you agreed.

Namur remained on the reefs to swim while you took your small boat over to the island, grateful for the option to rest before you returned. Most of the commanders were far too observant for their own good and would quickly recognise the unnatural tiredness bothering you. How Ace had missed it…

Well actually, watching where Ace’s eyes went before he looked away when you’d been in the water, you could guess how he’d missed it.

Your legs shook slightly but you could brush that off as struggling through the sand, and you nodded in greeting to the rest of the second division when you arrived. They’d clearly finished their scouting as most had gathered in small groups around the beach, laughing and eating.

Ace checked in with everybody before he found his way over to the more isolated spot you’d chosen, just at the edge of the beach beside a few driftwood logs. Close enough that you could see the division but far enough for them to struggle to listen in.

“We basically got a free beach trip,” he said. “There’s nothing here.”

“How lucky,” you said.

He sat atop the log you were leaning against, leg brushing your side in a way that was definitely purposeful.

“You can go socialise,” you told him. “I’m just going to be relaxing over here.”

“I want to keep you company,” he said. “You not feeling like talking to anybody?”

“Not really. Besides, I might feature in enough of the gossip that I’d ruin conversation by going closer.”

He laughed and that basically confirmed it. “Yeah, it’s been a lot today.”

“Doesn’t bother you?” you asked.

“Nope. I’m getting further ahead,” he said. “I should show you what I’ve got so far. I’ve had to change a few things but I’ve now got six bets to me so…”

“Thatch moved up?”

He nodded. “Obviously but Rakuyo had the original betting log so he dug it out for me. You’ll never guess who Pops has money on.”

You laughed. “You’re taking this very seriously.”

“Hey, it’s interesting! Apparently, the main reason most people didn’t bet on Thatch was because his own bet is on Izou.”

That caught your attention enough that you tilted your head up to Ace. “What?”

“Right?!”

“That’s stupid,” you muttered.

Ace shrugged. “I put all my money on myself, by the way. Don’t suppose you want to bet?”

You shook your head, not wanting to imagine how poorly that would go. A small shiver ran down your spine and you breathed out softly through your nose. There was still sea water covering your skin.

“You cold?”

“A little,” you admitted.

Ace dropped from the log next to you, holding out his hands for your own. “Come on. You know you want to.”

You rolled your eyes but slipped your hands into his own. He immediately wrapped his palms around you, warmth rolling through him. It was undeniably nice and you leaned closer without thinking, enjoying the heat he offered.

“Is it helping?”

“It is,” you admitted.

“You still don’t look too happy,” Ace muttered. “Is there something I can do?”

You smiled, considering what you could say, before deciding that there really was no reason to hide things from him. Lowering your voice, you whispered, “Want to know a secret?”

He frowned. “Uh, sure?”

“It’s not the cold,” you admitted. “But you and I share a similar dislike for the ocean.”

“Like a – ”

“Exactly.”

Excitement erupted from him. “Really?!”

You pulled a hand free and pressed your finger to his lips, causing a bright red blush to colour his cheeks. “Secret,” you reminded him. “Remember.”

He caught your wrist, leaning in closer. “Okay, okay. But which one?”

You winked.

“No, come on,” he protested. “Please. You have to tell me!”

“Have to?” you repeated. “Certainly not but… I might consider it. If I was a little warmer.”

Ace missed the tease slightly because he took it as an indication that he should start making you a small fire rather than moving closer. You didn’t bother correcting him, finding it sweet enough when he immediately jumped up to grab various branches and pile them high in front of you before he sparked it alight.

You stretched your legs out toward it, pleased by the warmth creeping through your skin.

“Your fruit’s quite useful,” you commented. “I rather like it.”

He beamed. “It’s amazing,” he said. “And I can do some pretty cool stuff with it. Want to see?”

“Go ahead.”

He raised his hand lazily drawing circles of small flame in the air before he flicked his fingers up and the flame danced, stretching and twisting as he concentrated. The edges came together and a tiny ship bobbed gently above his palm, sails flickering with the orange light.

“Aw,” you said, leaning forward to watch it. “That’s so cute!”

“Right? Okay, watch this one.”

The next little flame shape was a tiny flower that disappeared quicker than it was meant to if his expression said anything about it. Several members of the division had caught onto the showboating and cheered loudly at the replacement flower he made.

The praise clearly sparked something because he was on his feet in a second, flames rolling along his arms as the air warmed.

Fire spiralled around him in bright ribbons of orange and you watched, head propped up by your elbow as he sent it higher, beautiful dancing colours twisting through the air and forming a small tornado of warmth.

He brought them all together, clearly trying to force a shape that wasn’t quite working and you laughed softly to yourself, enjoying the pride in his expression.

Big sparks shot off it, forming an almost firework-like display above you and you watched in mild awe as the colours danced over the sky.

You clapped and his grin widened, eyes focused only on you.

The flames came together to form a small bird that shot into the sky, climbing higher before it made direct connection with the top of a palm tree.

“Oh, shit.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as the fronds erupted into flames and the second division cheered as though that had been part of the plan to begin with. Ace looked toward you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

“That meant to happen?” you asked.

“Yeah, obviously.”

The flames licked at the top of the tree and you all watched it, knowing full well that there would be no chance of putting it out.

Ace was still grinning though and you were too when the warmth around the beach changed.

A shadow swept over the sand and the laughter faltered as everybody looked up. Blue flames spread across the sky as the enormous phoenix banked overhead, gold and sapphire feathers catching in the sunlight as he descended.

The entire beach disappeared beneath the brilliance of his wings; far brighter than any fire Ace had summoned.

“Oh, come on,” Ace muttered.

Marco landed in a pillar of blue flame not far from where you sat. You had to fight not to let your admiration show on your face. It didn’t matter how many times you saw him transform; it never became less awe-inspiring.

There was silence for a second as Marco looked around with a very carefully composed expression, gaze lingering on the burning tree.

“Did you really need to fly over here?” you asked, trying to break the silence before it suffocated you. “Surely there are enough boats.”

He looked at you, eyes deathly cold. “It’s faster. Are you aware that just because you finish a scouting mission early, it doesn’t give you a reason to spend the afternoon setting fire to islands?”

“It’s one tree,” Ace defended.

“I had a scouting mission?” you asked. “Nobody told me.”

“I wasn’t speaking to you.”

The coolness in Marco’s tone was getting your back up even though you were nervous about this argument. You already knew where this was going.

“Well, the tree’s my fault anyway,” you said, getting to your feet. “I was getting Ace to show off for me.”

“Hey,” Ace said. “That’s not true.”

“I don’t particularly care about blame,” Marco said, his attention locked on you. “I already know the reason for it. It’s a common thread amongst all the problems on the ship currently.”

“All is a generous word. I had nothing to do with the canon that went overboard two days ago.”

Ace was moving and you shot him a look. He stopped, seemingly confused but you weren’t going to let whatever issue Marco had with you get redirected toward him. Again.

Marco crossed his arms. “Fine,” he said. “If you want to discuss the problems you’re causing, we certainly can. When Pops told you to fix the problem with Thatch, he didn’t mean to make everything else worse.”

“I fixed what he asked for. Dinner last night was excellent.”

“That is not the way he meant for you to do it.”

“He didn’t exactly specify.”

Marco glanced briefly at Ace who still looked very confused. “Do you really think this is a game?” he asked. “It’s only a matter of time before everybody hears about it and then what? Or are you not thinking about who gets hurt when this falls apart?”

“Hears about what?” Ace asked.

“I kissed Thatch,” you said. “Yesterday.”

Marco’s jaw tightened, his attention immediately snapping toward Ace who looked a little confounded about you telling him.

“Everybody knows that,” he said. “Blenheim and Fossa were talking about it this morning at breakfast.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”

For a few beats, Marco genuinely seemed confused by this turn of events. He stared at Ace before he looked back at you and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ace, do you not realise, that this isn’t some kind of race you can win?” he asked.

“Why not?”

“She’s going to leave anyway. Once her business with Pops is done, she’s gone again with no guarantee of coming back.” He met your gaze directly. “With all these years that have gone by, she’s never even considered staying. Why would that change now?”

You didn’t say anything.

“So, do you really want to waste your time and potentially ruin your relationships with Thatch and Izou over something temporary at best.”

Ace frowned at Marco and then he seemed to realise something, the grin on his face far too broad for this kind of discussion. “Oh,” he said. “I get it.”

“It’s the same conversation as always,” you said. “I don’t know how many times I’ve had to listen to this. If Thatch and Izou didn’t want to be around me, they wouldn’t be and I’m certain it’s the same for Ace.”

“You manufacture their interest,” Marco countered.

“Excuse me?”

“Is kissing Thatch not a way of trying to keep him interested?”

“No,” you snapped, offended. “I don’t need to do things like that to keep people interested in me. I kissed Thatch because I wanted to and because he asked.”

“You truly expect me to believe that a woman who won’t trust people enough to mention why she visits would kiss somebody just because they asked?”

“Is that really so hard to believe?”

Ace snorted and you looked at him, confused and mildly annoyed by whatever he was finding so funny. He stepped closer and threw an arm lazily over your shoulders, completely interrupting your train of thought with his sudden proximity. A challenge burned behind his eyes as he looked toward Marco.

Oh, there was no possible way this was ending well.

“Hello?” you said, raising an eyebrow at Ace.

He beamed at you. “Hey, I think I figured out the problem.”

“Ace, yoi…” Marco said. “We are in the middle of a conversation.”

“Which problem?” you asked.

“This one.”

And Ace leaned in to kiss you.

Somebody down the beach choked. You made a surprised sound against his mouth, almost moving away for a second. You stopped yourself, enjoying the sensation enough to not want to stop it yet.

There was a second of silence and then Marco erupted. A massive phoenix took to the sky in an explosion of blue and gold, feathers painting the sky like stars as he soared back to the ship.

Ace moved away and laughed. “He’s so jealous.”

You looked toward the ship and almost groaned. Fuck that was not going to end well. For a second, guilt hit harder than embarrassment.

“He’s going to kill me,” you said. “I think you just signed my death certificate. Why did you do that?”

“Because you know, I thought Pops was crazy for putting money on Marco but now I realised he’s not wrong. He came over here just to show off and complain that other people get to kiss you.”

“Pops – I mean, Whitebeard, put money on Marco?” you repeated. “Has he… has he met Marco?”

Ace dropped back onto the ground and shrugged, clearly entirely unaware of the trouble he’d just started. A pit of dread curled around in your stomach but you sighed and shook it from your mind for now. He and Izou were as bad as each other.

Though you had to admit, you rather liked Ace’s way of interrupting arguments.

You didn’t even bother pretending to keep distance, sitting down next to him and curling against Ace’s arm to chase away the last of the chills from the ocean.

You only realised you fell asleep against him when you woke up to heavy footsteps against the sand. Ace snored loudly above you, his head rested atop your own and arm tight around your waist.

“Come on lovebirds,” Teach said with a grin, his shadow falling over both of you. “Time to head back to the ship.”

Ace yawned and squeezed you once before he stood, a lazy stretch to his limbs that showed he was only really half awake. “Okay,” he grumbled. “I’ll take Striker back. See you there?”

“Unless they drown me on the way,” you said.

“They wouldn’t.” Ace grinned as he set off and you watched him for a second before trying to shake more sleep from your head.

Teach laughed loudly, his head thrown back and his voice booming across the sand. “Thought somebody already tried it earlier. You showed up here looking like a drowned kitten.”

“You seen many of those, Teach?” you asked.

“Eh, one or two. Gotta say, I was quite surprised. I didn’t think you would be the ocean type, if you catch what I’m meaning.”

You paused, giving him a curious look. “Really?”

“Guess I was wrong,” he said with a shrug. “But I had a thought you might have eaten something funny once upon a time.”

For a second, you considered mentioning it. You’d already told Ace and it wasn’t really a secret but… but something deep in the back of your mind whispered to be more careful with information like that.

“What made you think that?” you said. “Honestly, I can’t tell who’s a user most of the time.”

“Nah, it’s easy. People get a strange feel when they eat one of those things,” Teach commented and he said it as though it was obvious.

You chuckled. “Suppose so. Would you eat one? If you found it?”

“Depends on the one. Last thing you want is to become some kind of insect.”

You snorted at the idea and he brayed with laughter. You brushed the sand from your clothes and hummed, wondering if you could choose your fruit, if you had known before you bit into it, would you still have done so.

“But you could also learn how to fly,” you said, looking toward the Moby Dick. “He’s an ass but that fruit is something else.”

Teach chuckled, quieter now. “It is. Not the best but strong enough though if you want it, you’d have to kill him for it. Given his mood with you, can’t imagine you’d be too opposed. Might even bring some peace to the ship for once.”

It was a strange joke. You huffed slightly and shook your head. “Wouldn’t be worth the effort. Besides, he regenerates.”

Teach hummed, his smile easy. “Nah, that’s easy to deal with. We can trade favours and you can borrow some of the sea stone I’ve got.”

You laughed it off at the time but as you sailed back toward the ship, his words lingered heavier than they should have. They followed you through dinner until late into the night; brought images with flashes of blood and blue flames snuffed out. Your stomach flipped painfully with each one even though you knew you were being ridiculous.

Marco was the second strongest member of this crew. He couldn’t even get hurt, let alone die.

Right?

After far too many hours of not sleeping, you gave up and made your way through the silent commanders’ quarters, passing endless rooms until you found the right one and knocked twice.

Thatch was very confused when he pulled it open and for a second, his half-asleep appearance managed to knock worry from your mind. You’d never really seen him like this before, shirtless and with his hair down, hanging in his face.

It suited him more than you cared to admit.

“Darlin,” he said. “What time is it?”

“Far too late to be awake,” you admitted. “But I can’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

He stepped aside and you slipped into the room, yawning into the back of your hand. His lanterns were burned out, the room plunged into darkness the second he closed the door and dropped back into his bed.

If you were more awake, you might have considered it more but as it was, the promise of sleep was far better than sitting and wondering.

Thatch immediately tucked you into his chest the second you lay down; his chin rested atop your head. He was ridiculously warm. You curled against him, cheek tickled faintly by the hair on his chest as he moved the blanket over your shoulders.

“Why’re you awake?” he mumbled.

“Don’t know.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t believe you but Thatch never pushed. He just brought you closer, his arms tight enough that sleep caught up quicker than you could have thought it would. You didn’t even realise you’d fallen asleep until he moved next to you and you tightened your grip as best you could, feeling as though no time had passed at all.

He sighed, a hand running over your hair. “Sugar, I have prep to do.”

“It’s like one in the morning,” you muttered.

“It’s five,” he corrected. “But sounds like you at least got some sleep.”

You shuffled closer as though you could keep him there for longer. “You can let them starve, it’s okay. They know how to fish.”

He chuckled and squeezed you tighter. “You should warn a man before you come crawling into his bed in the night,” he said. “I might melt the next time.”

“Mm.”

“But I still need to get up.”

You grumbled under your breath as he got up, swung his legs off the bed and left you lying a space that felt far too big. You watched him get ready with one eye open, contemplating how you could best tempt him back.

You probably shouldn’t be spending the night in his quarters if you wanted people to stop whispering but on the other hand…

“If you want to stay here, you can go back to sleep,” he said. “I won’t kick you out.”

“If you’re going to leave, you may as well kick me out. It’s the same thing.”

He shook his head and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. His hair tickled your nose. “Spoiled,” he said. “Do you want to talk about why you came in here?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Not if it’s keeping you from sleeping.”

You rubbed at your eyes and sat up a bit more. “Is the crew allowed to keep sea stone on the ship? Like with so many devil fruit users and all.”

“Sea stone?” Thatch repeated. “Why’re you worried about that?”

“I’m just wondering.”

He brushed his hair back and up. “It’s not against the rules, there’s just no real point. Don’t know why anybody would want to when we’ve got a bunch of users aboard. We’re family. We look out for each other.”

“Mm,” you mumbled. “Okay.”

“Is that really what kept you up last night?”

“In a way.”

“You worried for Ace? I know he can get under skins but – ”

You shook your head immediately; Ace hadn’t even been a consideration for you. “Not for him.”

“Then…?”

Marco didn’t seem like the best worry right now and you honestly felt stupid saying it. So, you went with the much easier option. If you’d already told Ace, you saw little purpose in keeping it from Thatch.

“For me,” you said.

Thatch froze, his coat half buttoned up as he stared at you. “For you?” he repeated.

“Mm.”

“Sugar?”

“It’s meant to be a secret,” you said with a shush. “Cause I didn’t want people knowing but oh well. Just don’t tell anybody.”

He sat down at the edge of the bed, running his hand over your shoulders. “You have one and you never told us? You could have fallen over the railing and nobody would have known.”

“Namur knows. Whitebeard said he had to be told way back.”

“Okay,” Thatch said. “I feel like we should talk about this again when you’re more awake. Can we?”

“If you want to.”

He smiled and pressed another kiss to the side of your head but it lingered, almost as though he was lost in thought. “Sleep,” he said. “And don’t worry yourself about things like that. Devil fruit or not, you’re safe.”

“I know,” you said. “That’s why I came here.”

Brook has seen so many birthdays that really, they've just about lost all meaning for him. Though, that might be because he's dead so celebrating them seems a bit odd when you think of it that way.

But for an s/o, he'll definitely put aside his apathy to think of something meaningful.

Music, of course, but not that alone. He's already written you a thousand songs and played you just as many melodies so he wants to create something far more memorable. Memories have a habit of slipping away, so he decides to give you something you can always revisit.

He gives you a tone dial. Not with his songs on because you have more than enough of those (autographed, obviously) but with small snippets from the weeks before.

Conversations and laughter. Terrible jokes mixed with occasional songs. Something for you to listen to whenever you feel lonely.

And mixed in there is a sweet message for your ears only.

He also, of course, gifts you a pair of lacy panties that he would love to see you wearing.

He’d been grumbling since your arrival on this island filled with flowers but you pointed your paintbrush at him warningly. “You agreed to come here, Captain.”

“Only because I didn’t want to listen to you whinge about it for the next week.”

“I could put a rose on your cheek.”

“Try it and I’ll tie you to the anchor.”

Killer reached for the mirror you’d brought along, raising it to carefully examine what you’d done to his helmet. You waited, still posturing a little at Kid but watching Killer from the corner of your eye to see his reaction.

He didn’t give you anything, just stood and nodded. “Let’s go.”

The festival was beautiful and the Kid Pirates could not have stood out more. Bright awnings stretched between buildings in ribbons of colour, flowers spilling from baskets, windowsills, and hanging planters until it felt as though the entire town had bloomed at once.

They weren’t the only pirate crew there – far from it as you saw several other flags flying above ships in the docks – but they certainly looked the most unusual. Even with your request for everybody to wear the ‘nicest’ thing they owned, it didn’t help much.

Still, you found the residents far from unwelcoming. Brightly coloured flowers littered the stalls of the town, erupting with types you’d never seen before.

It didn’t take long for most of the crew to disperse to follow what they found interesting and you wandered along with Killer close behind you and Kid, naturally, grumbling the entire time. You bought a few of each flower you found pretty, handing them over to Killer who was holding an ever-growing bouquet and seemed entirely unbothered by it.

Though when you passed a few over, he considered them before he took out a beautiful red tulip and held it up to the side of Kid’s head.

“See, he didn’t need to be painted because he’s already flower themed.”

Kid’s eyes widened before agitation took over his expression at your loud laughter. “Oi!”

He snatched for it but Killer tossed it into your chest. You caught it and twirled the stem between your fingers, staring curiously at your captain and wondering if he was going to make a grab for it. He could absolutely take it from you if he really wanted.

But you could see the cogs turning in his head as he realised that doing so would enter him into something.

“Maybe we should rebrand to the Flower Pirates,” you said to Killer. “Everybody gets a name change. You could be a snowdrop.”

He snorted at the absurdity of your claim. “Doesn’t really suit the giant skull on the front of the ship but we could probably still use the flag.”

Kid threw his hands in the air. “Fuck this. I’m not putting up with this shit today.”

You laughed as he stormed off, face as bright as his hair. You twirled the tulip around in your fingers once more before you put it back in your bundle and leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of Killer’s jaw, right beneath the edge of his mask.

“This is fun,” you said.

“I can tell. We’ll probably leave early so you should get yourself some accessories while you can.”

“I should,” you mused. “Any recommendations?”

He thought about it before he shrugged and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Snowdrops.”

You couldn’t actually find any which was unfortunate but you did take his advice. Soon, you had a garland around your neck and flowers delicately woven into your hair. A few townsfolk offered Killer additional flowers for your collection, smiling warmly at you as they did so.

“You got enough there?” you asked him.

“Where are you even going to put all of these?”

“I’ll find somewhere. Probably your quarters.”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder. “It’s been long enough that Kid’s probably getting bored. I’ll be back when I find him.”

You sighed dramatically and leaned against his arm. “I suppose I can venture through these very dangerous lands without you but don’t be too long. You never know what’ll happen.”

“I’m sure you’ll find trouble,” he said. “Stay here.”

“No promises.”

You watched him walk away for far longer than was necessary but it was a very entertaining sight. Most people tended to move out of Killer's path on instinct. It was considerably harder to look intimidating while carrying enough flowers to stock an entire market stall.

You only stayed still for around a minute before you saw a stall with daisies.

You bought a basket before making your way to the side of a grassy hill overlooking the town. The grass was warm beneath you when you sat down, daisies spilling across your lap in a scatter of white petals and bright yellow centres. A soft breeze rolled over the hill, carrying distant laughter and the scent of flowers from the festival. For a few moments, there was nothing to do except sit in the sunshine and decide which flowers looked prettiest together.

It wasn’t long until you felt like you were being watched and you raised your head to see the small girl you’d seen sitting with her mom at the daisy stall.

You waved and she took that as an immediate sign to walk closer, watching you with fascination.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m making a flower crown,” you said. “Do you want to make one with me?”

She didn’t waste a second before she dropped down next to you, eager. You laughed and told her to pick her favourite flowers from the pile, slowing down to go over each step slowly so that she could see what you were doing.

She stuck her tongue out in determination as she fiddled, lacing each strand together with fierce focus. You giggled under your breath and continued on your own.

“It’s going to bump the other flowers off your hair though,” she said with complete sincerity. “So why don’t you make a bracelet?”

“It’s not for me,” you said. “I have enough bees already. Flower crowns are the best presents and this one is for somebody very important.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Should I make it as a present?”

“If you want to.”

“I’m going to make it for my mom then,” she said with a firm nod. “She’s the best. Is yours for a boy?”

You smiled at the daisies. “A man, technically. My tall, pretty man.”

She laughed. “Pretty?”

“Very much so,” you said and twisted another strand into place. “But he’s also very scary. He’s a pirate.”

She oohed in interest. “Pirates are super scary,” she agreed. “Does he like flowers?”

“When I give them to him, yes.”

“Then he can’t be that scary.”

You smiled to yourself. “I suppose not.”

She hummed to herself and then frowned down at her collection before she plucked one of the prettier daisies from her pile and held it out to you. “Use this one. It’s special.”

You accepted it with exaggerated seriousness. “I will.”

The first shout you heard came just as you’d finished lacing a daisy into the crown; brash enough that you raised your head immediately. A group of marines jostled their way through the crowds, barking something about official business.

Things that could never be good.

You sighed and stood, delicately holding out your half-finished daisy crown to the small girl. “Here,” you said. “You can have this one too, alright. I need to go and find my friends. They don’t like those guys very much.”

She frowned in agreement. “I don’t either. They’re always so mean.”

You trailed the marines for a short while before you heard the familiar sounds of fighting. Festivals attracted sailors and pirates in equal measures and it seemed this group were taking advantage of that to launch a small capture operation. Cowards, the lot of them.

The problem was, you weren’t seeing nor hearing Kid anywhere and that made you a little uneasy.

Killer could stay quiet. Your captain, most assuredly, could not.

You hurried through the festival. Merchants were rapidly dispersing, leaving their stalls lifeless as they fled from the eventual fight. You ducked down an alley, hopped onto a wall, and checked out the docks.

Just as you’d thought.

The marines littered over the docks like ants, surrounding each of the ships in dense clusters. The Victoria sat proud against the tide but if they tried to board… well, nobody was on ship duty and a decent haul sat inside from a raid earlier in the week. You watched them, waiting, and the moment they moved too close, you knew you had to move.

The commanding officer was easy to spot and you fired without hesitation. He was dead before he’d even hit the ground.

They opened fire and you dropped behind the wall. Bullets cracked overhead, splintering stone and wood somewhere beyond your line of sight.

Then something slammed into your upper arm.

The impact staggered you sideways before the pain even arrived. A second later it hit in a white-hot rush that seemed to tear straight through your shoulder. Your fingers immediately went slick. Blood poured between them when you grabbed at the wound, warm enough to soak through your sleeve almost instantly.

"Oh, come on."

This wasn’t the time to stand around. You’d hit somebody important and they’d take that as an act of war from all the groups here. You forced yourself to move, even as the blood pulsed over your shoulder. Almost everybody had disappeared into their houses and you grabbed a heavy coat and a shirt.

It didn’t do much to stop the bleeding but the dark fabric of the coat hid it well enough. You rolled your shoulder and winced at the immediate pain.

A problem for later but not a pleasant one. You still had to find Killer.

It took you far too long and you were moving far too slowly. You could feel the lethargy beginning to dog your steps as you hurried through the town, looking for any signs. Eventually you found one in torn metal sheets littering the ground and the loud, demanding shouts from Kid for anybody who wanted to try him.

“Hey!” you shouted and they both turned immediately. “Got some problems toward the docks.”

Killer must have retrieved his punishers at some point because they were dripping onto the ground, blood splashed over his mask. You tried not to think about how that reminded you of the way your own blood was crawling over your skin.

“This lot better not be your fault!” Kid barked.

You gave him a blank look. “They’re not but the main one was at the dock. I think I got their attention though.”

“How?” Killer asked.

“By being so unbelievably pretty,” you said with a proud smile. “Though I think some are more focused on justice for their dead commander or whatever. Not that that was my fault but still, they’re on their way.”

“Fine by me,” Kid said. “Fucking assholes think they can mess with my ship.”

Killer was staring at you. You could feel his gaze weighing heavily through his mask no matter how much you tried to brush it off. You shifted slightly, angling your injured arm away from him because he was far too observant at the best of times.

And the shot was burning something awful.

“Today, please,” you said, antagonising Kid rather than being scrutinised. “Or are you getting slow?”

“Like hell I am!”

“What happened?” Killer asked.

You smiled. “Nothing.”

Your taunt worked and Kid marched past you, already muttering under his breath. Killer stayed where he was for a second too long. Then he stepped past to follow Kid. You hesitated before you moved, trying to shake the pins and needles from your legs but eventually giving up. Your boot caught on the cobble as you went and you stumbled, grabbing for a cart with a move that sent pain lacing through you.

Killer looked back over his shoulder immediately and you attempted a grin. He said nothing.

You winced when you let go, a sticky, bloodied handprint pressed against the wood of the cart.

The marines marched back to the village with a vengeance but their guns and swords did very little when said weapons were ripped from their hands to form a giant metallic fist. You stopped at the top of the hill, listening to the sounds of fighting below you.

The world seemed strangely bright. Sunlight glared off metal and armour until it hurt your eyes, dark spots drifting across your vision whenever you tried to focus for too long. You pressed a tentative hand to the injury, wincing at the pain. You should probably sit down.

You didn’t realise how similar sitting and collapsing were until you did a mix of both, practically falling onto your ass. You didn’t bother moving out of line of sight as you usually would; the blood was beginning to seep through the coat now and that felt more important. Your head swam and you dropped it forward, resting against your knees.

Shit. Maybe you should have wrapped it tighter.

Somebody grabbed the front of your coat and tugged it aside. The movement was firm enough to pull you forward before you recognised the painted flowers through your haze of exhaustion.

Killer said nothing for what felt like far too long while he looked at your arm. “Nothing?” he said.

“It’s just a minor bullet wound,” you said. “Basically a scratch.”

You couldn’t see his face and yet you knew exactly which expression you were being given for that comment. He touched the bloodied shirt you’d wrapped around it, his fingers coming back bright red.

“Did it go through or is the bullet in there?”

“Well, there was blood splattered behind me too so it’s probably through.”

He seemed to consider checking before he turned his head. “Kid.”

Kid’s head snapped toward both of you immediately. “What?!” Then his gaze dropped to the blood coating your arm and the bundle of marines and metal fell from the sky with a screeching crash. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“Got shot,” you answered.

“How did you manage that from up there?”

“It’s not from now. She had this before she found us,” Killer said, his voice dangerously calm. “Just didn’t think to mention it.”

“There were other problems to deal with,” you defended yourself.

Kid’s steps were heavy on the ground as he stormed over. “How bad is it?”

“Don’t know,” Killer answered. “There’s too much blood to see. We need to get her back to the ship. Is it clear?”

“I’ll make sure it is.”

“At least,” you said. “It wasn’t in the head. So, it could have been much worse.”

He ignored you entirely and pulled the coat off you fully, dropping it onto the ground. “Don’t move that arm. Let’s get you up.”

“I can stand,” you said.

Your head spun the second you did and the world tilted dangerously. If Killer hadn’t stepped in front of you, you might have collapsed fully. As it was, you still hurt yourself against him, fingers digging into his sides as you tried to stabilise yourself.

“It doesn’t fucking seem like it,” Kid said. “You’re going to have to carry her.”

“No, don’t do that,” you huffed. “Red isn’t your colour.”

Killer didn’t let you continue the argument. He slid an arm under your knees and picked you up without warning, holding you against his chest. You had to fight to not yelp at the pain, biting down hard on your tongue.

“I can walk,” you grumbled.

“Don’t argue.”

The tone was stern enough that you softened a little. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a little shot.”

“Sure.”

Though despite your protests, you quickly found that the walk back was much nicer when somebody else was doing it for you. Especially as the world started to get a little blurry and you felt yourself wanting to sleep more and more.

“I can’t believe you just marched around with a hole in you,” Kid muttered.

It was such an easy joke that you couldn’t help making it, dragging yourself back awake to crack open an eye at him. “I have plenty of holes already,” you responded, all too aware of your voice slurring slightly.

“That’s not what I meant!”

You chuckled to yourself.

“Stop it.” Killer didn’t even tilt his head toward you as he spoke.

The playfulness drained away instantly but you didn’t have too long to dwell on his obvious discontent because the moment you were carried onto the Victoria Punk, a flurry of chaos stole most of your attention.

Killer dropped you off and disappeared immediately, vanishing before you could even look to him. The shot was straight through but that meant you got to deal with both sides of your arm being treated. At some point, you stopped looking for him entirely because the agony of the treatment demanded far more thought.

And by the time all that was over, the only thing you really wanted to do was sleep.

You woke up to a dark room and a door swinging open far too loudly.

“Oi. Wake up.”

You blinked for a second, raising your hand to your eyes before you could think and immediately yelping in regret as the injury burned. “What?” you grumbled.

“You still alive?”

“No,” you countered. “Did I lose the arm? If so, I want one that’s even cooler than yours.”

He scoffed. “Like hell. Nah, a brat ran up to us as we pulled off, screeching its head off.”

You frowned. “Like a kid?”

“Yeah. It wanted me to give you this.”

He stepped deeper into the room and tossed it onto your chest. For a second, you had no idea what he’d thrown on you but it was a flower crown. Hundreds of little daisies woven into one another. She had finished it.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, she brought it here?” you asked. “That’s so sweet.”

“Cause you don’t have enough of the fucking things already?”

Actually, now that you looked around, you noticed that your bouquet seemed to have survived the marine attack. Multiple vases sat around Killer's room. Flowers crowded every available surface; bright petals spilling from mugs, bottles, and anything else capable of holding water.

You smiled and held the crown back out to Kid. “It’s not for me,” you said. “It’s for Killer. Mind taking it to him?”

Kid rolled his eyes. “Not on your life. Give him that crap yourself.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there aren’t any handsome blonds in the room right now so…”

“Yeah, because of you.”

You blinked, momentarily confused. “I’m sorry?”

“See, if you hadn’t been an idiot and not told anybody you got shot, maybe he would be. You were bleeding all over the damn island. Of course he was pissed.”

“Obviously I know he cares but we had other things to deal with.”

Kid shook his head as though you weren’t making sense. “Whatever. You’re just lucky I don’t throw that shit overboard. You’re going to fuck with our reputation.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “I could hang roses over every inch of this ship and people would still run for the hills when they see it.”

“They better or I’m blaming you.”

He marched out and you sighed, shaking your head. You stared down at the flower crown after Kid left, turning it over gently. The stems were woven together a little unevenly and several flowers had been replaced but it still looked very carefully done. You smiled and hoped she’d kept the one she called special.

Sighing, you settled back against the pillows. At least you were here. You had expected to be stuck in the infirmary for a bit.

And the Victoria Punk had a pretty poor infirmary.

You watched the sun through the open windows and tried not to worry too much about Killer’s very clear absence. Kid would probably tell him you were awake but it was very annoying not going to look for him yourself.

Three hours later, the door opened and Killer stepped in, carrying a small tray. You immediately perked up.

“Hello handsome.”

“No. You’re not forgiven.”

“For what?” you asked.

“Getting shot and not telling me.”

He placed the tray down next to the bed; a small bowl of soup and not much else.

You pouted. “But this is the first time I’ve ever gotten hurt.”

“I know.”

He sat down next to you on the bed and you saw, your opportunity gesturing him closer as you raised the flower crown and placed it on his head. It was a little small for him but it was finally where it was meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” you said, genuinely. “I didn’t think it would take that long.”

Killer straightened and reached up, fingers brushing over the petals of the crown. Then, he lifted it from his head and put it straight back into your lap.

The rejection hurt worse than the gunshot had – a slither of ice curling into your chest.

The clicking of his helmet jolted you straighter as he took it off, slowly lowering it to your lap for a second. Okay then. He only did that when he was serious.

Your breath slowed as you stared into brilliant blue eyes, his hair curling around his face perfectly.

It wasn’t the first time he’d taken off the mask for you but the complete stillness of his expression made something in your stomach curl uneasily. The air felt very sharp.

Maybe… maybe it had gotten to him a great deal more than you thought it would.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Get shot or not tell you when I’m shot?” you asked.

“Both.”

You gave him an apologetic nod, playing with the stems of the flower crown. “I was going to tell you after we dealt with the big problem.”

“You bleeding out is a big problem,” he said. “Much more than a few marines. If you’ll fuss over a scratch on my helmet, why would you think I’m fine leaving a bullet in you?”

You could have made the joke. You didn’t. Instead, you conceded with a small huff.

“It is my first time getting shot. I don’t know the exact rules of what I’m meant to do but I suppose telling my favourite person is probably a good start.”

“It’s the ideal one.”

You lifted your good hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb over his exposed skin. He closed his eyes, leaning ever-so-slightly into the touch even when not too happy with you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated.

He opened his eyes again, gaze flicking to your shoulder for a second. “That’s going to be a pain in the ass to heal.”

“It is,” you said. “But you could make my suffering better with a kiss.”

“Maybe when I forgive you.”

You laughed softly and Killer reached for the flower crown, picking it up and putting it gently atop your head instead.

“Hey, that’s for you,” you complained.

“It suits you better.”

“You suit me better.”

Then he smiled, just the slightest smirk of somebody with a plan you weren’t going to like. “Also, you can’t flirt with me until you’re healed. Captain’s orders.”

“What? There’s no way Kid said that!”

“Mm, too bad you can’t ask him then.”

You gave him the worst puppy eyes you could imagine. “That’s cruel! I’m already injured.”

Killer shrugged. “Guess you won’t do it again.”

"I wasn’t trying to get shot the first time!”

He hummed and settled deeper into your lap, nudging your hand with his head to get you to play with his hair again. “If I was alive… there’s plenty of things honestly. I don’t even know where I’d start. One of the biggest ones is probably to visit this island that’s been in trouble for years now and help them get rid of the guy in charge like I promised. It’s a really nice place.”

“Immediately back into danger?” you asked.

“It’s not too dangerous.”

You laughed and shook your head. “You can’t die and immediately start looking for fights again. I was asking more like if there’s a food you’ve always wanted to try or something you’ve always wanted to do.”

“I mean as for doing things…” He raised his eyebrows playfully.

You mussed his hair, unimpressed, in response. “Not that.”

“Right, guess that could work even if I’m dead,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, you know what I really want back? My hat. I miss it so much.”

“The hat on your wanted poster?”

“Yeah! It’s my favourite and I don’t even know what happened to it. They confiscated it when I was handed over.”

You thought about it though you didn’t know nearly enough about the protocols of the marines to even begin guessing. “Maybe I can ask about it,” you said. “That’s an easy enough thing to get for you.”

He grinned at you as though you’d promised him the world itself. As though you were giving him the greatest gift of all in offering him a hat. It warmed your heart enough that you covered his eyes to stop him from making you laugh.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking as though I’ve already given it to you. You can be happy once I’ve actually found it.”

Ace closed his eyes under your palm, seemingly planning on sleeping again. “I know you’ll get it though. You’re good at these things.”

You moved your hand away from his eyes, smiling down at his peaceful expression.

You should talk to him about your conversation with Sabo from the day before but as much as the Revolutionary Army valued privacy, the library was still communal. The shelves towered overhead, packed so tightly with books that they swallowed sound, but not completely. Somewhere deeper in the room, pages turned.

You and Ace had managed to claim a narrow corner tucked between two shelves and the outer wall, hidden enough that most people wouldn't glance your way twice. Even so, discussing dangerous rituals in a room full of revolutionaries felt like an exceptionally poor idea.

And you hadn’t had the time during the morning or evening given that certain ghosts had been sleeping for most of it.

You were dragged from your thoughts by footsteps against the wood, purposeful and moving toward you.

The woman who walked over wasn't somebody you'd met before but something about her felt familiar. She moved with easy confidence despite the healing cuts scattered across her face and hands. Bruises darkened her skin beneath the sleeves of her clothes, remnants of battles not yet fully faded, yet none of it seemed capable of touching the calm smile she wore.

In your lap, Ace shifted, getting up slowly to see what was going on.

She didn’t hesitate to sit down on the ground across from you, long legs folded. He moved immediately so she didn’t sit through him, settling behind you, between your back and the shelves instead.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

Her expression was pleasant but something in her gaze felt far too knowing for a random greeting. You smiled gently and extended a hand, offering your name.

“You have the look of a woman who’s heard about me,” you commented.

“I have,” she admitted. “Though I admit, I haven’t been here for very long, I did catch on some interesting conversation. More specifically, I heard that you may have been looking for my captain.”

“Your captain?”

She nodded. “I’m not sure if you still are but I’m Robin. I’ve been with the Straw Hat Pirates for quite some time now.”

Ace shifted closer to you, his knee bumping into your side and the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. “That’s Luffy’s crew,” he said. “What would she be doing here?”

You looked to him and Robin followed your gaze over your shoulder, speaking before you could offer an explanation.

“I heard about your abilities. I apologise if I came off as rude but I must say, I’ve never introduced myself to a ghost before. Certainly not one of such infamy. I discussed you so often with the others, I feel as though we’ve met before.”

Ace perked up when she spoke directly to him, grinning easily. “Really?”

You smiled at her in appreciation for the relaxed nature of her request. “I’m sorry but I’ll have to translate for you. Though he can hear you, you won’t be able to hear him.”

“That’s quite alright, I would love to speak to both of you,” she said. “It’s not every day you get the chance to talk to the dead. Where is he sitting?”

You held your hand up in front of Ace’s face. “Around here.”

He kissed your palm without warning and you startled, grinning when he immediately laughed. “You put your hand there,” he defended.

“He doesn’t move much,” you said. “So if you look in this general direction, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t have any reason to move,” he said, dropping his chin onto your shoulder. “Does that mean Luffy’s here too?”

“He’s asking if your captain is also here,” you asked.

Robin smiled forlornly and reached for a bag she’d brought with her. Inside, she pulled out a newspaper and handed it over, tapping the front. “Unfortunately, we were separated during a battle on the Sabaody Archipelago. This is the only communication we’ve gotten from him since then.”

You held the article up to Ace, only briefly glancing across it. There was no message in the text itself but Ace pointed at the image.

“Luf doesn’t have a tattoo,” he murmured. “3D2Y?”

“The code on his arm?” you asked.

“It’s a request,” she said. “We were meant to reunite in three days but now, he wishes to change that.”

“To two years?” you asked. “That’s quite the jump.”

She nodded. “Indeed. I wish I could tell you what happened when we were separated or where the others went but truthfully, I don’t know myself. It’s the soonest I think anybody will be able to find him.”

Ace was lounging fully over your shoulders at this point, the weight against your back pushing you forward slightly as flames flickered over your body. “That makes more sense,” he said. “I thought it was weird Luf was alone when I saw him. His crew didn’t seem the kind to leave him alone for that type of fight.”

Robin smiled. “I understand it’s a wait but I hoped I could share something.”

Ace’s hair was tickling your neck and you reached up to brush it away slightly. “Ace is saying this explains things,” you told her. “He says your crew doesn’t seem like you would have separated before a fight.”

“We aren’t,” she agreed. “Not in usual circumstances but it’ll probably be better we reunite when Luffy thinks we’re ready.”

“At least this means he’s safe,” Ace said. “Maybe he took off with Shanks?”

You didn’t know but you nodded and gave the newspaper back to Robin. “Thank you. Two years is a long time but it’s the best we have.”

“Unfortunately, from what I know about your devil fruit, it might be too long,” she said. “To keep a spirit around, that is.”

“What do you mean?” Ace was more awake now, his breath tickling your skin.

You smiled at him. “Normally, I do only manage a few months at most but there are… other options,” you said.

“You’re going to keep me around for that long?” he asked, half-teasing but half-disbelieving. “That’s forever to have me following you everywhere.”

You tried to give him a look but it was hard to turn your head toward him when he was so tightly wrapped around you. Something Robin must have noticed because she looked toward your shoulder and laughed behind her hand.

“You’re quite close,” she said. “Physically, at least. I can see the compression on your shirt.”

Ace snuggled harder into your back as though proving a point and you huffed at how tightly he was holding you. “Advantages of being dead,” he said.

“That’s not the reason I let you do this,” you told him. “But yes, we are.”

Robin smiled. “Then will you be attempting it?”

Oh? You frowned, confused at how bluntly she asked, even though she shouldn’t know anything about that. But she didn’t look as though she meant it in any way other than genuine curiosity, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

“Maybe,” you said, attempting to sound non-committal. “It’s the only way to keep a spirit around more permanently.”

“What’s she talking about?” Ace asked and he sat up properly, allowing you to mourn the warmth briefly before he shuffled around so you could see his face better.

“Something my devil fruit can theoretically do,” you explained.

“Oh, you haven’t discussed it yet?” Robin asked.

“Just not in detail,” you reassured her though this wasn’t really the place to go into those details.

Ace gave you a suspicious look. “Theoretically?”

“I’ve never done it before,” you said. “But I know it has been done twice before to varying degrees of success.”

“More times than that,” Robin said and you turned to her, curious. “Though it wouldn’t be public knowledge. I think I might be able to be of some assistance. When I was younger, I had access to a library filled with knowledge from all parts of the world. Your fruit was often talked about in the pages.”

Excitement thrummed through you at the offer. “Truly?”

She nodded. “I can tell you what I know about how previous users survived the process. Though I warn you, you may wish to have a healer on standby.”

“I was already thinking of such,” you said. “I do have old journals from the previous wielder but what they knew was theoretical. Hearing what knowledge, you have would be incredibly useful.”

“If I can help, I would love to.”

Ace frowned at you. “What do you mean survive?” he repeated. “What are you going to do?”

You’d forgotten for a second in your excitement to share knowledge without having to explain that he would hear only snippets. You could see the fear beginning to settle on his face and you paused. Not the best time but what choice did you have.

“Robin,” you said. “Can we meet up here again later?”

“Of course. I’ll see you then.”

You stood quickly dusting off your clothes before you looked down at Ace. He watched you warily before he followed and you led him back to the room you’d been assigned, shoving the door closed hard behind you before you started.

“I’ll explain,” you said before he could panic. “But I wasn’t hiding it. I made the decision yesterday when we were out.”

“To do what?”

You reached for his hands and he let you take them, expression flicking around rapidly as flames curled from his shoulders. “Do you remember what Dragon said about my awakened devil fruit and how it’s a bit of a sore spot for some people?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded. “See the reason for that is, it gets a sort of single use ability. It’s not flashy or particularly safe but if I’m in a very specific place with a few small items, I can basically trade my devil fruit to reverse the crossing. So, you’d um… be able to come back through it instead.”

For a second, you saw hope in his eyes, rapidly replaced by confusion and panic. His nails bit into the skin of your wrists. “But your fruit isn’t awakened.”

You pressed your lips together in answer and Ace gave you an expression rather like a kicked puppy, his shoulders slumping.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never really came up,” you said. “And also, it’s not really a thing I should talk about to the dead or the living. I can reverse the path of death once. Spirits who know that who aren’t anywhere near as lovely as you can become quite demanding about it.”

“But she said you could raise your chance of survival. So it’s not just a snap your fingers thing.”

You hesitated before you answered. “There is a chance it doesn’t work.”

There was a horrible, suffocating silence before Ace shook his head. “No.”

“No?” you said.

He yanked his hands out of yours so quickly that it felt like it burned. “No. You’re not dying for me. That’s not happening. I’m not going to let you… no. Don’t do that. Enough people are dead because of me already and you’re not joining them.”

“Ace, it’s only a chance.”

“It’s not worth it. I’m fine with being dead, really. I can just stay with you as a ghost and then we can still be together.”

You winced. “Not forever. Eventually, you’ll be forced to move on and that can badly hurt me too. This is the best option.”

“It’s an option that could kill you!”

“I’m not scared of death. It’s an option that could bring you back. Physically. You could talk to people and eat things without me sending them to you.”

Ace began to pace in front of you. “I don’t… you don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s better that I’m dead.”

“I very much disagree.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“You have two brothers who adore you and would both agree with me too. Your friends, as well, certainly wouldn’t prefer you to stay as a ghost. I thought you wanted to live and if this is your one chance of it, there isn’t a problem.”

He gave you a look. “I know you like me in that way but you don’t even know everything. You don’t know why they wanted me dead to begin with.”

“Because you’re a pirate?”

“Not just that.”

You stepped closer to him to try and smother some of the flames that were roaring on his forearms. He leaned into the touch for a second before he yanked his arm away, not really meeting your eyes.

“There are very few people in this world who are better off dead,” you said.

He ran his hand through his hair, almost pulling at it. “The government would want to kill you too for bringing me back.”

“Fine by me. I’ve been dealing with their crap for years now.”

“Not like this. They'd never leave you alone.”

You shrugged but his words hit a deeper fear than you wanted to acknowledge. You wouldn’t have the ability to hide anymore when your fruit was gone. But it was a worthwhile sacrifice. They were hardly about to send Cipher Pol after you.

“Look, Ace,” you said. “It’s dangerous but I kind of like having you around and I want to keep it that way.”

“Is it because I kissed you?”

You frowned. “What? No? I like you in that way too but that’s not the only reason I’d keep you around.”

“Okay but if you know then you won’t. You’re not as dumb as Luf or… I don’t know, whatever like Sabo.”

“I won’t?”

Ace hesitated, blinking at you with tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. You shook your head and stepped forward, arms sliding around him in a hug. He folded into you with such ease that it felt as though his muscles had turned to feathers; wrapping around you and clutching you closer into his chest.

“What could possibly be this big?” you asked. “That it would stop me from bringing you back.”

He shook his head. “You can’t.”

“I can but if you really think there’s something that bad then you’re going to have to tell me.”

“You can’t hate me,” he said, his voice very low. “You’re the only person who can see me. If you hate me… I don’t want to leave permanently yet.”

“I won’t hate you.” Flames licked along his arms as you tightened your hold, dancing in your peripherals. “Ace please. Just tell me.”

He buried his face into your neck, shoving himself against you as though he wanted to disappear into your body. “No.”

“Ace…”

The flames were starting to get uncomfortably hot. They crawled over his shoulders and jumped to your own, licking along your face and arms. You tightened your grip, not even flinching as the fire spluttered around you. It was starting to hurt but you weren’t letting go yet.

“There’s no secret I would hate you that much for,” you said.

A sudden flare caught the loose ends of your hair. The smell hit first, sharp and foul. You swore softly and slapped at it before the fire could spread, singed strands sticking briefly to your fingers.

“I should have told you,” he said between small hiccups. “I’m sorry. I just knew that if I told you, you wouldn’t have helped me look for Luffy or Marco.”

“I would have.”

The rug beneath your feet sparked alight in a sudden burst of orange. You crushed the flame beneath your boot before it could spread but the damage was already done. Heat rolled through the room in waves, turning the air thick enough to shimmer. Every breath tasted faintly of smoke. Sweat gathered against the back of your neck and your head swam as though the walls had begun to bend around the edges. You shook your head once to try and refocus on him.

“Did you kill somebody?” you asked.

“What?! No?”

The question at least seemed to startle him enough that the flames briefly calmed down, confusion creeping through his anxiety. You ran your nails gently over his shoulders, dodging around the bruises and marks you knew were there to tickle his skin.

“Alright. Did you betray someone?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then I don’t see what could possibly be this bad.”

He didn’t lift his head, curling tighter around you as though he could disappear into you and stop having this conversation. “You’re not – I don’t – I can’t…”

“What did you do?”

A sharp arch of flame jumped from him and onto your arm, a brief burning sensation. “It’s not something I did,” he said.

That only confused you more. “Then what’s the problem?”

The fire around him crackled, loud and fierce before it suddenly withdrew. The room turned frigid all at once, Ace’s body far too cold against your own.

“Don’t hate me.”

He said it shakily, as though trying to plead and order it into being at the same time.

“I won’t.”

His fingers twisted in the fabric of your shirt once before he straightened, rubbing at his eyes roughly and still refusing to look at you. You ran your hands quickly over the smouldering spots on your clothes.

“You don’t know that,” he muttered.

“Then let me prove it to you.”

He looked at the smoke curling from your shirt for far too long. “I – Do you know Gol D. Roger?”

“The Pirate King?” you said, smothering the burn he’d been staring at. There was a hole in the shirt where heat had devoured the fabric. “What about him?”

Ace didn’t respond immediately. Then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, he said, “Well, he’s my father.”

You nodded, waiting for the rest of his sentence but it never came.

Silence dragged out, unbearably heavy between you before he gave you a desperate look. “Say something, please.”

“You can continue,” you said. “I’m listening.”

“What?”

He blinked blankly at you. And you stared back, equally as confused.

Then you sighed and stepped forward. “Ace, I promise whatever it is, it can’t be so bad that I won’t like you anymore.”

“I – what?”

“What?”

“I just told you,” he said, his voice pitched into what you could almost call a whine. “You heard me, right? Gol D. Roger is my father.”

You stared at him. “Yes, and?”

He looked at you as though you’d grown a second head. “You know who he is, don’t you?”

“I mean, I was isolated but not stupid,” you said. “I don’t think there’s anybody in the world who hasn’t heard about him. He’s pretty infamous.”

“Okay? So then you know!”

“That part, sure,” you said. “I mean, I didn’t know he had a kid but if it’s connected to this secret, then okay. Unless… are you implying that the thing that they want you dead for is connected to his treasure?”

He had, at least, stopped crying though you weren’t certain if his confounded expression was any better. You reached out to wipe away some of the residual tears from his face while you waited.

“No, I don’t know anything about that,” he said. “I’ve told you the thing. Who my father is, is the thing.”

But he sounded more confused than upset, as though he was questioning the words himself.

You frowned, your hand still outreached toward him. “I don’t understand.”

“The reason everybody wanted me dead,” he said. “My mother died trying to hide me because of who my father was. Everything that happened, everyone who died… it was all because of his blood.”

“You didn’t even do anything?” you asked. “You thought I was going to hate you and banish you because you happen to be related to somebody?”

And you clearly sounded quite offended because Ace deflated.

“Well, yes?”

You frowned at him and then flicked his shoulder. It couldn’t have possibly hurt but he jumped anyway, looking down at it. “What was that for?”

“Don’t scare me like that!” you said. “Seas, Ace. I thought you were going to say you murdered your brother or something! You set us both on fire and that’s it? You almost gave me a heart attack because I was so worried.”

“You don’t get it?”

“No, I don’t get it,” you countered. “Why would I hate you for that? That’s a really stupid reason to dislike somebody.”

“Other people don’t agree with you.”

“I don’t really care about if other people agree with me. I really hate you being this upset.”

“I’m sorry?” But he sounded more confused than anything.

“No, don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for,” you said. “Just like… I wasn’t expecting that. I really don’t care about who your father is.”

“You should.”

“Why?”

Ace opened his mouth and closed it again. You stared at him for a second before you stepped forward, throwing your arms around his waist. Of all the things you’d been imagining… it mattered to him but it wasn’t going to take him from you.

You only realised with your face pressed against his chest that that had been what terrified you about this secret.

He didn’t hug you back for a second, his arms stiffly at his sides. And then, slowly, he brought them up to wrap around you, his breath rough in his chest.

“You really don’t care?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t want to lose you and no offense, but your father really doesn’t change anything about me falling for you.”

“You’re so weird,” he muttered against your hair.

You shook your head. “Not about this. Anybody who dislikes somebody based purely on who they’re related to is pretty fucking weird in my opinion. And that’s coming from somebody who talks to the dead.”

Ace didn’t respond. His arms only tightened around you.

Tag List: @miwn8 ; @infinitely-creative ; @grapeboom ; @baa3baa3 ; @isabelleslastwords ; @sukiraterhouse ; @vicky-minaj ; @thesleepinglion ; @literallyjustvibin23 ; @uroldall ; @urbbyfacedangel ; @aceincase ; @kyomiforest ; @doljjongsmom ; @kermitprime ; @lawpetitemort ; @vvyeislazzy

You chuckled softly to yourself, still resenting that you had never quite had the opportunity to witness Ace’s attempts. “I don’t believe I would see any different results,” you admitted.

“Likely not,” Whitebeard conceded. “Though I do have a favour to ask. Whatever part of this trouble Thatch is involved in, I need you to fix it. I don’t know what you broke but I can taste the effect it has on dinner.”

You sighed. “I don’t know what I did either but he isn’t keen on telling me.”

“Then figure it out and soon.”

“That sounds almost like a threat,” you said with a half-laugh.

Whitebeard waved a giant hand, smile still in place but his gaze sharp as ever. “Rest assured, it is one. I know you’re responsible for this.”

You were but that didn’t mean you were going to ask the ship’s collective father for assistance in solving it. “I’ll try,” you said with a small laugh. “But I’ve been avoiding the kitchens, you see. I’m trying to not eat my weight in sweets before I leave.”

“Ah then that’s why he’s sulking. Well, at least it’s an easy fix.”

You wished it was. Still, you inclined your head and promised to try your hardest one more time before you left the room, silently praying that the solution would divine itself onto you.

Instead, you got a very moody Marco.

“You definitely wouldn’t be able to actually injure him,” Marco said immediately, having long since dropped the pretence that he didn’t listen in on your conversations. “If Ace couldn’t lay a scratch on him, your own odds are slim.”

“My arms are a little thin for it, aren’t they?” you said. “Maybe I should try poison. I have some connections in the kitchen.”

You shouldn’t be sarcastic with those kinds of things but not even a minute into talking to Marco and you were getting annoyed. You had to antagonise him a little. So far, he was the only person on this ship behaving like normal and you’d like to keep it that way.

It seemed he disagreed though because instead of a retort, his gaze caught on something on your arm. “You walk into something, yoi?”

The verbal tic caught you off-guard enough that you didn’t respond immediately. He’d used that maybe twice before when speaking to you; a clear indication that he overthought just about every interaction he shared with you.

Even in your most heated debates, he rarely slipped into it and it stunned you enough that you just looked toward a small scratch on your upper arm.

“I walked into a crate earlier,” you said slowly. “I didn’t see Haruta carrying it.”

It had bled slightly, the thinnest line of blood running toward your elbow, but it was hardly something to catch the eye.

Marco shook his head. “You can’t look where you’re going?”

Okay, that was better. Less strange of a comment from him. “It’s a scratch.”

“Have you even considered how much time and energy you’d waste if it got infected? We don’t have infinite supplies for clumsiness.”

“Oh my word,” you huffed. “Don’t worry, doc, I don’t plan to waste your resources or die on your ship. Trust me, I’d much rather find somewhere peaceful to croak.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and then, unexpectedly, reached for you.

You stiffened as blue flame curled over your skin. The heat wasn't hot enough to burn, only warm, sinking into your arm like sunlight through fabric. The scratch disappeared beneath it, the thin line of red fading until there was nothing left at all. Your heart lodged itself somewhere in your throat.

His hand lowered. You stared at him and he stared back, both of you clearly unsure what the appropriate response to that was.

You saved him and yourself from the awkwardness by coughing. “That was an overreaction. It’s not contagious.”

“If it was, I’d imagine Izou might be walking into everything.”

“What does Izou have to do with anything?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, firmly locking them as though he might reach for you again if he stopped paying attention. “He’s been permanently attached to you since yesterday. It’s hardly any kind of secret and I imagine it’s the cause of Ace’s attitude of late.”

“Attitude?” you repeated. “Asking perfectly reasonable questions that you don’t like isn’t having an attitude.”

Marco scoffed. “Are you two behaving as guard dogs for one another now?”

“No. I’m just being a good friend,” you said though the word sounded strange in your head, all things considered. “And not letting you jab at him just because you have a problem with me.”

“Friends? I don’t know how many friends follow each other around and neglect their duties.”

“Actually – ”

“Your co-dependency with Izou does not count either.”

You blinked. Ouch. You couldn’t help but feel that Marco’s comments surrounding Izou in particular had been getting sharper over the past few days. Things that were becoming harder to brush off with a casual shrug and his usual excuse.

His usual paranoia about your intentions had almost faded in exchange for the passive aggressive remarks towards the other commanders.

Maybe he was actually acting strange too. You didn’t like acknowledging that.

“I wasn’t even going to bring up Izou,” you said bluntly. “Though I can see you struggle to understand the concept of enjoying somebody’s company.”

“Hardly. I just don’t pretend that’s all it is.”

“Oh, really? And what is it then?”

He hesitated for a second, as though saying the words would somehow be far worse than just implying it. But honestly, if he was going to accuse you of these things, he should at least say it to your face.

“The entire crew knows what’s happening there,” he said, still not giving you what you wanted. “It’s getting ridiculous to pretend otherwise.”

“The entire crew? I wasn’t aware we were a circus display.”

“If you knew what subtlety was, maybe you could have avoided it.”

You stepped around him, moving toward the door, not quite getting into his space but still hovering. Your voice was lower as you responded, quieter. “Right, you’re one to talk about subtlety. I never notice when you’re brooding and glaring from the corner of the room.”

“That’s because you’re the trigger for it. I’m perfectly fine when you’re not around.”

“Guess I must be pretty bad for your stress levels then.”

“You’re bad for plenty of things on this ship.”

That comment felt less pointed than the other ones though objectively, it should have hurt more. It just didn’t have the same bite to it as the rest had and you breathed out, feeling that this argument was probably going to wind down into something more normal. Something beyond random healing.

You still couldn’t quite get that out of your head.

“Too bad you’re not the captain,” you said. “So, you can’t get rid of me.”

“Oi! Raise the volume back up!” Whitebeard’s voice boomed from his room. “You kids don’t have any idea how hard it is to listen in when you’re whispering!”

You paused, almost laughing at the realisation that he had been listening in. At least you never had to prove that you weren’t imagining Marco’s constant hostility.

“Pops is right,” Marco said after a second where you almost thought you saw him smile. Almost. “You need to talk to Thatch. I’ve already tried but he won’t say anything to me.”

“He won’t speak to me either,” you admitted. “I’ll ask…”

“Izou?” Marco filled in when you trailed off. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

You wondered if strangling him was even possible.

Instead, you pointedly left and didn’t go speak to Izou because he was probably busy and definitely not because you had a feeling Marco was watching you and you refused to prove him right. That would be ridiculous.

You found the second division busy toward the back of the deck and they didn’t seem to mind too much if you distracted their commander a little.

Some even seemed grateful that he had somebody new to look at his skiff even though you had no idea what the little boat-thing was until he started explaining it, pointing to the different parts as he went about repairing it.

“How did it get so broken?” you asked.

Ace gestured behind him, his tongue a little out of his mouth as he concentrated. “I crashed into the side of the ship.”

“What?”

“I want to make it so that when it goes under the water, it pops up again after a distance,” he explained. “So imagine I’m coming up to a ship, right. If I jump up, I want it to go under and then come back up again so I can land on it.”

“What if you miss and fall in the water?”

He grinned and shrugged. “Guess I just have to make sure I don’t miss. When it’s done, do you want to give it a try?”

“Not even in the slightest,” you said. “That doesn’t look like it could hold two.”

“It probably could.”

You laughed and shifted onto your back across the sun-warmed deck. The wood pressed pleasantly against your shoulders, carrying the lingering heat of the afternoon. Somewhere above, sails snapped softly in the breeze while voices drifted across the ship in scattered bursts of laughter and conversation. The second division moved around you without much concern, stepping over ropes and crates as though you had always belonged there.

“I thought you said you wanted to help,” Ace teased with a broad grin. “But now you’re just lying there.”

“I’m supervising. If you fall in the water, I’ll call for Namur.”

“You’re sunbathing.”

He laughed and basically threw himself down next to you, arms propped behind his head. You turned to look at him slightly and counted the freckles on his cheeks, stark against his sun-warmed skin. He had to know how he looked. Especially given his hatred for shirts.

Beneath you, the Moby Dick creaked softly and for a while, neither of you spoke, just lay there. You almost thought he’d fallen asleep until he suddenly propped himself up.

“Can I kiss you again?”

You laughed, surprised by the suddenness and immediately catching the nerves he was trying very badly to hide beneath casual confidence. It was strangely endearing to hear the uncertainty from someone so fearless in every other aspect of his life.

“Maybe,” you said.

He groaned dramatically. “Aw, that’s not an answer.”

“It’s a maybe,” you said. “As in, I’m thinking about it.”

“What can I do to change it to a yes?”

“Hm…” You tapped a finger against your lip, aware of his gaze lingering on your mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’re evil.”

“I know.”

Your stomach grumbled before you could continue teasing and Ace immediately perked up as though sensing an opportunity. “You’re hungry?”

“I did skip lunch,” you admitted.

“Okay, then I’ll go grab something to eat for you. What do you want?”

It was the perfect opportunity to keep avoiding Thatch and for a second, you genuinely considered asking him. You hadn’t told Whitebeard how fast you’d get the problem solved for him…

But then again, you shouldn’t be avoiding him. It wasn’t really fair.

“It’s alright,” you said. “I wouldn’t want to send you back to the scene of the crime.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m sure everybody’s forgotten by now.”

You stood and shook your head. “They definitely haven’t.”

“I’ve got supporters now!” he called after you. “At least three votes for me!”

“Seas, Ace,” you said with a laugh.

You forced yourself to walk fast so your nerves couldn’t catch you before you got to the galley. It was warm in there, welcoming and always smelling faintly like a bakery. Thatch looked up the second you entered, not even a second passing before he smiled at you as though nothing had been wrong at all.

“Well,” he said, glancing briefly toward the clock on the wall. “Look who finally remembered where the kitchen is.”

You smiled despite yourself, stepping through the doorway toward him. “It’s been a busy day.”

“So I’ve heard. You’ve been starting fights with our doctor again and flirting with Ace. Sounds very important.”

“Fighting with Marco is the most important part of my day. It’s like the first cup of coffee in the morning.”

Thatch laughed good-naturedly. It wasn’t the busiest time for the kitchen though a few members of the fourth division moved around the kitchen. They greeted you when they saw you looking, your attention drawn by the smell of garlic and butter.

You stepped closer to Thatch, not fully into his space but enough that you were out of the middle of their path.

“Hungry?”

There was nothing you could steal from him unfortunately. The fish he was filleting was still very much raw. “A little,” you admitted. “I was going to scavenge.”

You always enjoyed watching him work like this with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forearms flexing. It was a little indulgence you always allowed yourself. And if he’d ever noticed, he never mentioned it.

“You alright there?” he asked suddenly.

You looked up and blinked. “Hm?”

“You’ve been staring at my hands for a concerning amount of time. I’d prefer you not to eat raw fish.”

You huffed and looked away while your cheeks warmed, focusing on his face instead. “I was remembering that your captain talked my ear off today about dinner.”

“Really? Pops looking forward to it?”

You considered telling the truth but Thatch was in a good mood and you weren’t about to ruin that. “He always does.”

Thatch smiled proudly and put his knife down. He moved the fish carcass aside, washed his hands, and gestured for you to follow him. “Come on. If you’re looking for something to eat, I have an idea.”

You followed without question, moving deeper into the galley toward the large row of ovens.

The cooling counters were mostly empty aside from a single tray filled with unidentifiable golden balls. He picked one up and held it up to you, moving it away when you reached for it with your hand.

“Careful,” he said. “It could be hot and I don’t want you to burn your fingers.”

But he held it to your mouth as though willing you to take a bite.

“It won’t burn my lips though?”

“Nope. It’s magic.”

He placed it against your tongue and for a brief second his fingers brushed the corner of your mouth. The contact was light enough to pretend it hadn't happened at all, but your pulse reacted immediately, stumbling somewhere beneath your ribs. By the time you swallowed, you could hardly remember what the food tasted like.

“Well?” he asked.

You were suddenly very aware that you were in his space. “That depends. Are you trying to feed me or seduce me?”

“Bit of both.”

Somewhere behind you, somebody in the division wolf-whistled before another voice informed them to shut up. That made you laugh despite the way your pulse had begun to flutter unevenly beneath your skin.

“It’s very good,” you admitted.

Thatch smiled. “Good. You know, I heard something very interesting last night.”

“Oh no…”

He shifted the tray further away so he could lean against the counter. “Apparently, you’ve been giving out kisses.”

You closed your eyes briefly. “Izou…”

“Now to be fair, he didn’t volunteer the information.” The corners of Thatch’s mouth twitched up. “I did go asking for details after what happened yesterday.”

“You two gossip worse than old ladies on the dock.”

He chuckled. “I care deeply about the morale of the crew and to be honest, I wanted to see if congratulations were in order. Imagine how surprised I was when Izou told me that Ace was involved in all of this.”

“I know. I know.”

You had no idea what you could even say. You’d been considering doing it again only a few moments ago, after all.

But Thatch didn’t seem at all bothered by Ace’s involvement because he continued, nearly stopping your heart when he said, “I suppose I’m just wondering if there’s any chance of something like that happening between us too.”

You froze, momentarily shocked at the blunt acknowledgement… at the question you’d never allowed yourself to wonder.

“Of course.” It wasn’t a question you had to even think about. You both knew the answer. “It’s just… I don’t have a schedule or anything. Izou kissed me without warning really and Ace just kind of happened.”

“How does one just happen into a kiss?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that doesn’t help me very much,” Thatch chuckled. “I’m trying to figure out how to get the opportunity here.”

Your eyes flicked to his lips instinctively. “You don’t need to do anything,” you said. “You just never asked.”

He stared at you for half a second before he shook his head. “Sugar, I wasn’t about to just demand you kiss me. Didn't seem right asking when I wasn't sure where your head was at.”

“Well, I want you to ask.”

You saw the surprise settle in in real time. Watched the brief widening of his eyes and the crack in his composure and for once, he didn’t look like he’d been ready for that answer. You almost would have thought he went over this conversation in his head.

But he didn’t prepare for that.

“You do?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He breathed out slowly, looking away for just a second before his smile returned and he stepped closer. “Alright. Can I kiss you?”

“You’ve always been able to.”

That was all the permission he needed before he leaned in. Thatch kissed you gently at first, one hand settling against your waist while the other tilted your chin upward. His touch was careful in a way that made your chest ache. As though he was still giving you room to change your mind even after everything you'd just said.

You felt his smile before you properly registered it, warm against your lips and entirely impossible to resist.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, moving away to give him a look. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Not really.”

Then he kissed you properly. The hand around your waist slid slowly around you, drawing you close with natural ease. Familiar laughter lingered faintly against his mouth even as the kiss deepened. You barely noticed yourself moving forward until there was no space between your bodies anymore, your fingers curling instinctively into the front of his coat.

By the time you broke away, your breathing was uneven and Thatch looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

“This is going to be a problem,” he said. “I’m going to get addicted to you.”

And then, because apparently he had no intention of behaving anymore, he kissed you again. You made a soft, offended noise against his mouth that lost all meaning the moment your arms slid around his neck willingly.

Warm hands settled against your waist before he turned and lifted you easily onto the edge of the counter behind you.

“Thought I wasn’t allowed to sit on counters that weren’t my spot.”

“There are exceptions.”

He rejoined your lips before you could point out any other flaws in his logic.

The galley had started filling slowly around you as more fourth division members filtered in to begin dinner preparations and you only bothered taking note after the fourth cough of surprise and the second dropped pot.

“Get back to work,” Thatch called without even looking away from you.

The entire ship would know about this within the hour but you really couldn’t find it in your heart to care too much.

You dropped your forehead to his shoulder, focusing on your breathing while you heard the scurrying of his division getting back to work. “I was told I needed to make sure tonight’s meal was good,” you said. “So I shouldn’t distract the head chef this much.”

“They’ll be fine. They know what they’re doing.”

Warmth still curled lazily through you from his attentions but it seemed you had made your point because he stepped away with a sigh.

“I’d love to keep you with me for the whole night doll but I did just remember I promised Izou I would send you his way if I saw you.”

“You just remembered?” you asked teasingly.

“I was very distracted.”

You very much didn’t want to leave but you knew you should all the same. Thatch helped you down from the counter, pressed one kiss to your head and immediately switched into his commander voice to organise dinner. It seemed that his division hadn’t really managed to keep their focus with everything happening.

You laughed and waved as you slipped from the galley, still mildly floating as you made your way through the ship, pointedly avoiding Marco when you spotted him.

Izou was never a hard man to find. Especially not to you.

The sixteenth division had dispersed from their duties for the day and you found him, in almost a crude imitation of the first day, sitting in his quarters, a book in his hand and an ochoko beside him.

You walked in without knocking, closed the door behind you and leaned your back against it, unable to stop from smiling at him.

He looked you over and shook his head. “You’re lucky my possessiveness is very tempered right now otherwise I’m not certain I’d welcome you into my room anymore.”

“You knew Thatch was going to do that.”

“Of course. He asked me at least three times today if I was sure it was a good idea.” He tapped the seat next to him and reached for another ochoko. “Come. You’re clearly feeling quite proud of yourself.”

“Proud?” you said, dropping into the seat. “I don’t know about that. This is all getting very entangled.”

“And yet.”

“And yet,” you repeated, taking the ochoko from him with a grateful nod. “It feels a little wrong to come to you with this when you’re also part of it.”

Izou smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I see this as a rather important consideration about it all. After all, you certainly aren’t turning to anybody else when you need to talk, are you?”

“No,” you said, humoured.

“Then that says a great deal. Have your drink and then we can discuss how Marco plans to flay you tomorrow when he hears the news.”

Seas… you hadn’t even thought about that part.

Tags: @miwn8 ; @rubyninja1 ; @etherealroguedrifter ; @mugiiwara-ya

You still thought so even now… although maybe it wasn’t the best thing to mention anymore. Would the lipstick smudge still be on your lips now that it was mostly gone from his own? Red had always been a good colour on him. It suited the snow too, all bright against the white.

You only wished it wasn’t your own blood.

You could enjoy it more then.

Your step stumbled and you held his arm tighter. His gaze flicked to you immediately and you tried to smile and reassure as best as you could. There was nothing to worry about. You would be fine.

You barely felt it.

“It’s not much further,” Izou said and though you knew he meant to reassure, you didn’t like how forced the words sounded.

Looking over your shoulder, the path down the mountain was clearly marked in red. “I didn’t know I had that much blood to spare,” you commented. “It looks like a painting.”

Izou didn’t look. “Most paintings aren’t quite so deadly.”

“I know but I’m just imagining it like that,” you said. “Makes it feel less dangerous.”

“Try not to waste your energy on thoughts about it.” He tightened the pressure he had against your side and that made it hurt – a burning ache pushing through the frigid temperature of your skin. “Focus on your steps. We’ll be close enough soon.”

Walking was getting hard. The snow was thick and you had to drag your legs through it like heavy logs. Even with Izou’s coat tight around your shoulders, you were only getting colder the more you moved. You tried to lean closer to him but each time he nudged you back onto your feet, refusing to let you shift your weight into his chest.

“It might be worth carrying you,” he said. “Though I think it may worsen it, if you feel you cannot walk anymore, I’ll do so.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you connected that he wasn’t stopping you from leaning against him; he was righting you when you began to tip unsteadily. Honestly, walking wasn’t going very well with that in mind.

But Izou would be much slower if he had to carry you and you didn’t want that.

“I can sit,” you said. “Then you can go and call somebody. I’ll stay put.”

“There’s nowhere here that’s not covered in snow.”

“That’s fine,” you said.

It was cold, true, but you had his coat and the snow wasn’t anywhere near as cold as the surrounding air. It was almost warm even. You wouldn’t mind sitting in it for a bit... perhaps lying down and just –

“Try to stay awake for me.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t drift off.”

Had you been drifting? You’d only been thinking of resting. The walk up the mountain had been tiring to begin with and then the fight and your injury…

Izou pulled his coat tighter around your shoulders as though that would get more heat into you. His forearm brushed over yours, near burning in temperature. You flinched away on instinct alone though the movement caused a slight ache in your side.

“You’re really hot,” you mumbled. “Like, in a different way to usual. Do you have a fever or something?”

He didn’t meet your eyes no matter how hard you stared at him. “No,” he said. “I don’t.”

You passed beneath a tree, its boughs heavy with untouched snow and you remembered it from earlier in the morning. That was good. It meant the village wasn’t too far and from there, the Moby Dick was out in the water. Marco would be able to deal with this injury quickly.

It hadn’t been that bad when you first saw it. Though it had been difficult to see properly through the churning bubbles and the dark, murky water. You hadn’t even known you were hurt until you saw the blood stream past your face as you swam for the surface. Izou had his coat over your shoulders the second you were out the water, a final shot finishing your opponent.

You tried to move the coat aside and Izou caught your hand before you could.

“Leave it for now,” he said. He tugged off his glove with his teeth and slipped it over your hand. “Try to stay warm.”

He didn’t offer you the other one; drenched in blood and pressed against your injury.

“Once we get to the port, I’ll fire some shots rather than sailing back,” he said. “Marco moves faster than any vessel would.”

You took extra steps to think about his words before you nodded. “Marco doesn’t like you shooting at nothing though. He says it draws unneeded attention.”

“He will understand the situation is a little different to when I usually fire at idiots.”

“Okay. Just don’t get in trouble for me.”

He didn’t respond. He was probably just focusing because the village didn’t seem to be getting much closer.

You were feeling sleepier than ever but the good part about the Moby Dick was that it was always warm. And Marco was always warm too. Which made sense because sometimes he was made of fire. Especially when he was healing you.

“Wake up.”

You startled and looked to Izou, raising your head from where it had drooped toward the ground. You hadn’t been sleeping though. Just thinking.

“I’m not that tired,” you lied to him in hopes it would make him feel better. “And I know I shouldn’t sleep yet.”

“Good. You can rest once we’ve arrived.”

“You should sleep too,” you mumbled. “You also had to walk very far.” You couldn’t remember where he had been during the fight. Most of it felt very blurry in your memories at the moment. “Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

The snow turned to cobble beneath your boots and walking got marginally easier after that. You felt almost better. The ground was steady under your shoes. People passing by blurred slightly so you watched your steps instead. One step in front of the other, keeping time with Izou but you quickly got distracted by the red on your left boot.

“Cover your ears.”

“Hm?”

Izou had drawn his pistol and for a second, you looked for a potential threat before you remembered his plan. You lifted your hand to cover your one ear, tucking the other against his shoulder and closing your eyes.

Even with your ears covered, the three he discharged into the ground were blaring loud. You flinched away from each one.

Then he let go of you for a split second before his grip redoubled, his pistol clattering to the ground as he caught your shoulder and dragged you into his chest. No. That hadn’t been what happened. He caught you.

Your legs had given out. You couldn’t even move them, trying to force them back into working like they should be.

 You weren’t home yet. You had to stay fine.

“Can you stand?”

Yes. You could. You obviously knew how to but when you tried to push away from Izou, you found your legs just weren’t cooperating. You shifted your head a little, tilting it back so you could see him again.

His perfect face, hair still decorated by the snowflakes from the storm. You counted them rather than answer, appreciating how the light caught each one.

“Soon,” Izou said, his eyes locked over your head. “He’s flying.”

Oh, that was good. Somebody was on the way and you could get rid of the concern that furrowed his brow. You really didn’t like it when he frowned that way because it meant he was upset with something and you much preferred him happy.

You blinked and he shook your shoulder hard. You startled in confusion at the sudden roughness and snapped your eyes open.

There were blue flames around you now. Those hadn’t been there before you blinked.

“What happened?”

You recognised the voice asking but you didn’t have time to answer.

“I’ll explain later. Take her and go.” Izou pushed you back into somebody else. “Now.”

You’d never heard him sound that angry before. Though maybe angry wasn’t the right word for it. It was an emotion you’d never heard him use before, a rough and desperate one you didn’t recognise but that you wanted to reassure him away from.

But then warmth was wrapping around you, flickering flames that lingered on your stomach and you were being carried away from Izou which meant Marco had arrived.

And that meant you could finally sleep.

So, you did.

When you woke up, you were warm.

The last thing you remembered clearly was snow pressing against your boots and wind biting at every bit of skin left exposed. Now there were blankets over your legs, heavy enough that moving beneath them took effort.

Your throat was dry. Your limbs lagged behind your brain though and instead of grabbing the cup at your bedside, you backhanded it and sent it spinning across the wooden floor of the infirmary.

You watched it for a second, water seeping over the ground and sighed, sitting up to grab it when a bolt of pain erupted through your stomach.

Thick white bandages wrapped tight around your torso where you grabbed for it, palms pressing against the burning pain and breaths coming sharply. For a blissful second, you couldn’t remember what had happened before your brain gracefully flooded you with almost too many memories of the source.

Shit.

The ice had cracked under your feet. You hadn’t even known it was a lake. And that distracted you enough for a blade to slice into your side right as you plunged through.

Everything after that was a blur. You’d swum for the surface but then… then there was just red spilling over the snow and stone.

The door swung open and you looked toward Marco apologetically, still biting your tongue from the ache.

“Sorry,” you said and winced at how rough your voice was. “I missed the cup.”

He picked it up without concern and stepped over the water he’d normally have lectured you for causing. Then again, you supposed this was hardly a usual situation. You were very rarely a patient of his.

“It’s alright, yoi,” he said. “I’m glad you’re awake. Are you feeling cold at all?”

You had to pause and think about it but you didn’t feel cold. Your joints were stiff and there was a slight chill in your legs but it didn’t feel bad.

“Not really.”

“Alright. Move your fingers one at a time.”

You did so and it took a surprising amount of effort. Each one ached as though you had been sitting still for far too long but they still moved. Marco observed clinically before he nodded and called some of his phoenix fire to his palms, pressing it over the top of your knuckles to soothe the ache in your joints.

“You won’t lose anything to frostbite at least,” he said. “That’s very good. I was concerned that the blood loss might have accelerated the danger.”

“Did I lose a lot?” you asked.

“Far more than I would consider healthy, to say the least.” For a second, he looked at you in the same way he did whenever a member of the crew had done something spectacularly stupid. “You gave everybody a hell of a scare, yoi. Can you tell me the name of the island you were on?”

You said it instinctively, more focused on trying to remember the events that occurred between the lake and the infirmary. It was like squinting through water to try and remember anything more than the shock of cold.

Marco picked up the cup. “At least you’re fully conscious this time. I’ll bring you some water and then I’ll fetch Izou for you.”

At the mention of his name, your attention snapped back to Marco, memory racing away from thoughts of injuries and blood to settle on something nicer. How beautiful he had looked with the snowflakes in his hair and the slightest smile on his lips.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s not injured. It is late but… well, I doubt he’s asleep.”

You glanced toward the infirmary’s windows but found them drawn shut and the clock on the mantle was shadowed enough that you couldn’t read it properly. Marco didn’t give you a chance to ask many questions though before he disappeared, returning only for a brief second with water that you gratefully took.

Then he was gone again and the anticipation almost made you forget your thirst. You sipped from the cup and waited, almost buzzing.

Izou stepped through the door with his usual composed elegance – so perfect that you might forget anything was even wrong. His hair had been perfectly pinned back, his outfit as spotless as ever.

You smiled on instinct but he didn’t return the expression, face unmoving as he looked over your half-seated position on the bed.

“Marco says you’re awake properly now,” he said.

“I am,” you said. “And no frostbite.”

Izou nodded, the slightest inclination of his head. He didn’t cross the space between you and you wished you could do it for him but that likely wouldn’t end well. You took another sip from your water and twisted slightly to put it down.

The silence felt loaded. He looked over his shoulder. “I imagined Marco might want to test to make certain you’re alright but it seems he’s vanished.”

You waved your hand. “He’s checked on the important things, I think. No missing limbs and I remember all the important stuff. Though it does get a little muddy after I fell into the lake.”

“That’s unsurprising.”

“But I do know I should thank you. For bringing me back safely.”

The corner of Izou’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Even though you forced me to climb that mountain to begin with, I was hardly going to leave you to die atop it.”

“I thought you might like it,” you defended.

“And I did until you decided to make the trip more eventful. Next time, I’d prefer you add excitement in a way that features far less blood.”

You laughed softly and even the small movement sent little jabs of pain through your stomach. It was going to be hell to recover from this, to say the least.

“I am sorry for waking you up,” you apologised. “Marco said it was late but he didn’t give me a choice on calling you.”

Though honestly, you didn’t think Izou had been woken. He didn’t exactly sleep in a full-face of makeup to begin with. Nor would he have had time to fully correct himself before coming down here.

“It’s actually early,” he corrected. “I imagine the sun will be rising quite soon. Thatch is already preparing breakfast.”

That did worry you a little. It had been early in the morning when you asked Izou to join you in walking around the village which meant almost a full day was missing from your mind…

“Don’t frown so hard,” he said. “You’ll give yourself a headache on top of the damage already done to your body.”

You smiled at the comment. “It’s not that bad. I’m still breathing.”

“You nearly weren’t.”

The words came out sharper than any blade and hit with the subtlety of a knife to the stomach. You startled at the edge but he didn’t take them back. Not even a flicker of remorse crossed his expression at the snap.

You hesitated, thinking, before you responded. “It was close,” you admitted.

For a second, he didn’t respond. Then he breathed out slowly and walked to your bed, his movements as flawless as ever. He stopped beside you, his façade unreadably perfect except for one tiny detail.

The edges of his lipstick were shaky. Nothing you would notice if you weren’t this close.

But Izou never messed up his makeup.

He took your hand and you tightened your grip tight enough to hurt. If it hadn’t been for the thin bandages, you would have squeezed even tighter.

You could have died.

He wiped away the two tears that managed to escape down your cheeks, fingers cool against your skin. You leaned into the touch and he lingered there, lightly touching your face as though to soothe the realisation from you.

“I don’t remember much of the walk,” you admitted after a second. “Snippets here and there. But one memory that keeps coming back is just how pretty you look with snowflakes in your hair.”

“What a foolish thing to focus on.”

But there was no heat or bite to the comment. You couldn’t help but smile and this time, he returned the expression; amused by what you thought was important while on the edge of death.

“You’re not very cooperative when you’re bleeding out,” he said.

“Unintentionally.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Freezing, covered in your own blood and barely conscious but instead of worrying over that, you’re more concerned with the snow and if I was hurt.”

Your cheeks warmed. “I’m glad you weren’t though I can see you haven’t slept?”

“Is that truly so obvious?”

“To me? Yes.”

He chuckled. “It’s funny. Most have taken the assumption that I’m entirely unaffected by everything. True, I’ve perhaps allowed them to believe that in my answers to their questions but truthfully, I’ve had too many hours to reflect on things.”

“What were you reflecting on?”

He brushed his thumb over you bandaged knuckles. “Too much. Most pointedly that I would give just about anything to keep you with me.”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty though it was not your fault at all. Izou didn’t panic or worry when things didn’t go according to plan; he was one of the most reliable people on the ship when it came to keeping his head. But your eyes caught on the slight shake in the way he’d applied his lipstick. The faintest fear.

“I’m sorry,” you said, genuinely. “I never wanted to ask you to do something like that.”

“I don’t wish to ever do it again.”

It was a plea, unspoken but heavily implied. You pulled his hand closer to you, pressing a kiss to his knuckles and wishing you could hug him. But for now, this would have to do. It succeeded in making him smile either way.

“I’m also sorry about your clothes,” you said. “I’ll try to get the blood out – ”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But it was such a pretty fabric on you though. I loved the pattern.”

“I’ll find something new,” he reassured. “I can’t say I’m awfully fond of that kimono anymore.”

You sighed, enjoying how much he’d relaxed. You were drawing the tension away from his shoulders, one comment at a time. “Well, you could wear anything and still put everybody to shame so I suppose new isn’t bad.”

He shook his head. “Recovering from being on death’s door and still you don’t cease with your compliments. At this rate, the others will assume I pay you.”

“I just enjoy feeding your vanity,” you teased.

“Vanity?” he repeated with a soft laugh. “Maybe.” He leaned down to press a small kiss to the top of your head. “I expect you to heal quickly. I can’t say I’m too fond of having to give you to Marco for excessive periods of the day.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight possessiveness. “If he bothers you that much, I’m sure I could ask for help from somebody else in his division.”

“That would do very little in fixing the problem that I am not the one able to help you.”

“You already saved my life. What more do you want to do?”

“Ensure you stop giving me reasons to worry.”

You leaned closer to him and silence settled comfortably between you, warm and soft. Izou remained beside your bed, his hand still tight in yours as a faint light crept through the infirmary windows. Barely there at first but gradually growing brighter as you watched.

You leaned back against the pillows, the heaviness slowly returning to your body.

“I think,” you said softly. “I’d like to see the snow with you again someday. It does suit you greatly.”

He looked down at you and smiled. “I can’t say I’ve ever been too fond of snow,” he said. “But as long as you promise not to get stabbed again, I’ll consider indulging you.”

“I’ll try my hardest.”

“I’ll think about whether that’s good enough.”

You lifted your head, curious at the gentleness of his words and his touch. “Join you?” you asked. “Do you not have a full crew already?”

“We do,” he said, his smile lazy as ever. “But I’ll make space for you.”

You laughed quietly to yourself, brushing some of his hair away from his face so you could appreciate him better. Too handsome for his own good. He knew he could get away with anything if he looked at you like that.

“I see a problem with your offer,” you said and he kissed further along your thigh.

“What is it?”

“It’ll make you lose interest too quickly.”

Shanks paused, leaning his cheek against your skin. “Lose interest?”

You moved your leg from his shoulder and leaned down to drag him higher up your body, fingers tangled in his hair and lips locked in a messy kiss. He still tasted of the drinks he’d downed earlier and that explained enough about his impulsive offer.

“It won’t be fun if I’m already on board your ship,” you teased.

“Nonsense. If I had you on my ship, I'd never get anything done. Becks would have to start captaining properly.”

“Don’t you do that when I’m around anyway?” you asked.

He hummed and kissed you again as though to distract you. “Maybe.”

You chuckled softly, unwilling to admit to him how much his offer tempted you. He was far too addictive to turn down. Especially when his tongue was in your mouth and his hand was dragging your leg back up his hip. If you didn’t focus, you could almost believe he wanted you to stay with him. But pretty words alone couldn’t sway you.

You still left the next morning and he didn’t stop you, just pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you slipped from the bed.

“We’ll see each other soon,” he said and he sounded far too confident.

You smiled. “I suppose it depends on if the sea favours us.”

“The sea’s a big friend of mine,” he reassured you. “I’m sure she’ll bring you back to me.”

He wasn’t wrong. No matter how far you sailed, the ocean didn’t give you long before it reunited you with the Red Hair Pirates. You stopped shying away from them after the third encounter, growing bolder with each offer Shanks tossed your way.

Now when you saw the Red Force docked in harbour, her flag snapping high above the masts, you'd wander the island until you found the right tavern. It was never difficult. Somewhere there would be a building with music spilling from the windows, laughter loud enough to shake the walls and patrons pretending not to stare at the cluster of infamous pirates occupying half the room. The Red Hair Pirates had a talent for making themselves at home wherever they landed.

They were a friendly crew. A mostly peaceful one, even. But they were the crew of an emperor and people respected that deeply.

You walked in most times, walked out with your hands in Shanks’ hair every time, and it was never a problem.

Not until the one evening when you waltzed in and half of his crew nudged their captain as though he hadn’t already raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and made your way to the bar, not bothering him and the woman currently pressed to his arm.

But he never wasted time in approaching you, even if he was busy. He slipped up behind you as you ordered your drink and nodded to the bartender.

"Whatever she's having is on me."

You hummed. “You’re going to run your ship dry if you pay for the drinks of every girl that smiles at you.”

His arm slipped naturally around your waist, resting on your hip as though it belonged there. “Not every girl with a great smile,” he corrected. “Just the ones who need a bit more convincing to dance with me.”

The music in this tavern wasn’t quite suited for dancing. It was softer and almost impossible to hear over the shouts of his crew.

“I might need more convincing than a drink,” you commented.

“Name your price.”

Shanks was far too good at making your heart flutter, no matter how often you were exposed to his seemingly endless charm. He already knew he’d get what he wanted that night and you knew it too but sometimes, making him work for it was part of the fun.

“You’ve been trying to guess at my price for a while now,” you said. “You haven’t gotten any closer.”

“I’ll figure it out with enough time.”

You turned to face him fully, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders. “I’m lucky I managed to find you without any other pretty women around, hm? Ones with more reasonable demands?”

He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips against the side of your throat. “There are plenty. Funny thing is, I keep ending up back here.”

You tilted your head to the side. “As easy to lead back to your bed?”

The expression he gave you was off – a smile that didn’t quite get to his eyes. “Such little faith in me. You’re lucky I don’t get hurt easily.”

“It’s not a lack of faith,” you corrected. “But I know you enjoy the chase more than the reward.”

“I enjoy both as long as you’re there.”

You smiled. “I think you’d miss it too much.”

“Miss what? Waking up alone? Sounds awful.” He pulled you closer. “Can’t say I’d mind having you there instead.”

“The pining,” you corrected. “The wondering when you’ll see me again. Trying to convince me every time. If I was already there, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”

Something unreadable flickered over his face. “You think I’m trying to convince you for fun?”

“You wouldn’t do it if it was unpleasant.”

“Or if it wasn’t worth it.”

You couldn’t help being flattered by him, always so smooth. You loved the way he spoke sometimes – the way he made you feel as though you were the only important person in the world.

“I’m surprised your crew isn’t filled with women thanks to those pretty words of yours,” you said. “Even I struggle to tell you no.”

Shanks laughed, a short sound. “Wouldn’t have guessed you struggle with it.”

You leaned in, your mouth hot against his. He kissed you lazily as though you had nowhere else to be, allowing you to lead him through it.

“I’ll get us a room upstairs,” you said with a hum.

For a second, he smiled. Then he leaned in to press a swift peck to the corner of your mouth and said, “No.”

It was as though even the music itself paused as you blinked at him. “No?”

“As much as I love chasing you,” he said, stepping away and leaving the space in front of you feeling very empty. “I’m starting to think you enjoy being chased more than you want me. We set sail in the morning. The offer still stands.”

You watched him walk away in mild confusion, still a little lost before his words caught up to you.

Was he serious?

The bartender placed your drink down next to you but you barely heard it. The music carried on around you as though nothing had changed. A few members of the Red Hair Pirates were starting up a song. The woman he’d been talking to earlier grinned when he returned but he took a seat aside Yasopp instead.

You looked around the party and shrugged, taking your drink and a seat at the bar. If he didn’t leave, you had no reason to either.

Maybe he was trying to prove a point? You thought he might look for another woman whose words didn’t sting as bad as yours did, but he drank and laughed with only his crew and you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. As though he was waiting for something.

You finished your drink and swung off the stool, sliding the beri across to the bartender.

“Isn’t – ”

“I can pay for myself.”

The cold night air was refreshing against your face but the familiar curl of cigarette smoke drew your attention to a very unaffected Beckman. You paused when you saw him, not sure if he had something to say. He looked like he did.

“Running away again?”

“No idea what you mean,” you retorted.

He tilted his head toward the swinging door of the tavern; each time it moved, the raucous din bled through into the night. Beckman wasn’t even really what you would consider an acquaintance but he’d dragged Shanks out your bed more times than you could count.

“It’s early for you to be leaving alone,” he noted.

You didn’t have any reason to explain the break in routine to his first mate. And yet…

“Change of pace tonight,” you said. “I think I offended him.”

Beckman nodded. “You did.”

“I didn’t even know that was possible.”

He shrugged and offered you a cigarette. “I didn’t think it was until recently. Not many people can get under his skin.”

“I’m not wrong though,” you defended yourself.

“No,” he agreed. “You weren’t at one point. I’ve long since lost track of how many women I’ve had to drop off at port in the mornings but none of them were recent. Since he met you, there’s been no others.”

You didn’t want to admit to the way that made your heart flutter just slightly. “It’s the challenge. He tries to get me to join your merry little crew, I do, and then he gets bored in a month.”

“It’s possible.”

You didn’t know why it annoyed you so much that he agreed with you but you felt the glare before you could stop it. True or not, he could have said it in a better way.

“Why does it bother you so much then?” Beckman asked. “If you’re so sure that it’s the truth?”

“It’s still not nice to hear.”

“Because you’ve fallen in love with him?”

You shot him a sharp look. If you didn’t know quite how dangerous this man was, you may have snapped a little more venomously. How you hated him for saying the quiet parts of your worst thoughts out loud.

“I don’t fall in love that easily,” you huffed. “I just don’t particularly feel like joining a pirate crew to be a pretty face on the sidelines.”

“He says you have good enough aim that you won’t be wholly useless. And I’m sure he’ll teach you more if you ask.”

You had no other defence. On a different crew, you may have believed him but you’d heard the legends of the Red Hair Pirates and their skills. You would not sail with an emperor just for the sake that he found you attractive. That was a ridiculous decision. Even without the risk that he lost interest once you gave him what he wanted.

“You can see where we’re docked?” Beckman asked.

“Hard to miss.”

“Then you may as well prove your point.” He blew a puff of smoke into the sky. “You can be useless, let him lose interest and I’ll concede that you’re right.”

“And if I would rather things remain as they are?”

“They won’t. You’ve already ruined that part.”

You almost didn’t board. The Red Force came to life while you stood on the dock, shrouded in shadows and watched the sun rise over the horizon the next morning. The crew woke with complaints of headaches and aches as they got to work.

They were about to weigh anchor by the time you finally found the courage to walk forward, catching Hongo with a look right before he raised the ladder.

He stared for a second and then gestured you to board.

It was a strange feeling to step onto the Red Force. The gangplank creaked softly beneath your boots and the ship rose and fell beneath you with the easy rhythm of the sea. For years she had existed as something distant, spoken about in stories and rumours across countless ports. Yet the deck felt solid beneath your feet. The tarred ropes smelled no different from those of any other vessel. No monsters waited beyond the railings. Just a few curious glances and shouted greetings as the wind swelled her sails.

“He’s downstairs,” Hongo said. “Drank more than usual so he’s still nursing a hangover if you want to see him.”

You looked toward the ship’s doctors. “With how much you lot drink, I’m honestly surprised you don’t have a cure already.”

He smiled. “Maybe I do but I simply enjoy the peace in the mornings. Do you want a tour?”

It wasn’t as though you had anything better to do although it did catch you off guard just how unsurprised the Red Hair Pirates seemed to be about your arrival. Not one of them even mentioned your arrival as the wind caught her sails.

Not even Beckman who gave you a simple nod.

The Red Force was kept in beautiful condition. She was evidently loved and no room felt neglected as you followed Hongo through her passages.

Hongo walked you through the galley, the infirmary, the stores, and everywhere else you might need aboard. You memorised the route as best you could, making note of scuffed boards and chips in the wood rather than considering the ship as anything more. It was easier to focus on that, you realised.

Hongo stopped at a door at the end of a passage that led through the quarters and he pushed it open with casual ease.

“This one’s yours.”

You frowned at the way he said it before stepping inside.

A warm, clean room waited beyond the doorway. Sunlight spilled through the small window, stirring the pale curtains where the sea breeze caught them. A narrow bed sat against one wall with blankets folded neatly across the end while an empty chest waited beside a small desk untouched by clutter. Nothing looked lived in. Nothing looked abandoned either. The room carried the strange feeling of something prepared and patiently waiting.

Guest quarters maybe? Though that hardly made sense and this didn’t look like a spare room, briefly swept out when you stepped aboard. They wouldn’t have had time for that.

There was an explanation that made sense though not one you fully grappled with.

“How long has this been here?” you asked.

“Couple months now. Captain wanted it ready if you ever changed your mind.”

You tried not to let it show just how much that made your stomach twist. He’d prepared a room on his ship in case you joined?

Still, you tried to ignore the topic for a little longer by returning to the deck after leaving your bag. You found an opportunity to lean against one of the cannons, talking to Yasopp about nothing of importance while you watched the island fade behind you.

The door onto deck opened and Shanks stepped out, dishevelled and hiding his eyes from the sun.

Naturally his crew all shouted at once in response to his obvious headache and he winced visually, which only made the others laugh harder. You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly at their torment.

He spun at the sound, grin disappearing at once.

Your heart lodged in your throat as you stared, not certain what you should say.

“You’re here?”

Well, he didn’t have to sound so surprised.

“Have been for the whole morning,” you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. “But I thought I should let you get your beauty sleep.”

He chuckled as he walked over, smile gentler than you’d ever seen it before. His eyes glinted with barely concealed excitement as he approached. “Did somebody show you around? To your room?”

“You set that up a while ago,” you said. “Very confident.”

“Hopeful,” he clarified. “How long are you staying for?”

You hesitated before you answered. If you really wanted to, you could disappear the next time you found yourself at an island. But something about that room sitting and waiting for you made leaving feel far less appealing than it ever had before.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you settled on saying.

“That’s fine. When you do leave, just tell me before you go.”

“I will,” you promised.

How many years had passed since you made that promise now? You thought back on it, trying to remember while you swirled the drink in your hand, Shanks’ hand still resting on your hip where it belonged.

“Lost in thought?” he asked.

“Lost in memories,” you corrected with a small smile.

“Oh?” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss right behind your ear in the way that always made you laugh. “Which ones?”

“Ancient ones. I realised that I’m still waiting for you to get bored of me so I can run away.” You took a sip of your drink and tilted your head toward him. “You getting there yet?”

He laughed proudly. “Nowhere close. I should probably be more careful though. Think you’d sooner shoot me than run away now.”

You chuckled in agreement and leaned in to kiss him, slow and lazy as ever. “Maybe. I’m no longer much of a runner.”

You sighed and tilted your head back slightly; your neck was stiff and your shoulders aching. You had little idea what kind of mood Kid was in but the fact that he wasn’t stalking the deck while waiting for you was a little suspicious.  

The workshop door was swung wide open and you walked in, breathing in the familiar scent of oil and hot metal in the air. When you’d first boarded the Victoria, you hated how everything smelled of iron and grease, how it clung to your clothes and hair long after you left the room.

Now it comforted you in a way little else could. You’d missed all of it but mostly, you’d missed knowing he was somewhere close by.

Kid’s gaze immediately snapped to you, agitation brimming in his glare. “You’re a day late.”

“I know,” you huffed, tugging the cloak from your shoulders. You threw it over a scrap of metal and hoped it wouldn’t rip. “I came across a storm and had to wait for it to pass. That piece of driftwood I was in would have been underwater immediately.”

“Wouldn’t have been a problem if we sailed together. I’m surprised you didn’t drown with that thing.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered.

He did seem a little more on edge than you’d expected but you were far too tired to dissect what was under his skin this time.

If you’d had the opportunity to travel alongside him rather than in a tiny boat with less room than a cupboard, obviously you would have taken him with you. Then again, you’d realised that Kid often overlooked just how much you preferred his company.

You grabbed a ratty, old metal chair that had barely any padding left on it anymore and sat at the only clear table, lowering your head onto your arms.

It wasn’t the most comfortable spot but sleep sounded so nice at the moment.

To just rest and finally catch up on all the hours you missed while floating on that tiny soapbox…

“Oi, don’t pass out there! I need that table!”

“Work around me.”

“Like hell I will! Go and get some actual sleep!”

You opened one eye to give him an annoyed look. “Can’t. Everything’s too noisy down there.”

“What? Everybody’s awake and busy.”

“Then it’s too cold.”

“You have blankets enough.”

“Maybe I want to spend time with you because I’ve missed you.”

For a second, he didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed at you. Then he made a loud scoffing noise and turned back to the metal in front of him. “Whatever. If you get back pain from sleeping half on a fucking table, I don’t want to hear it.”

You hummed and closed your eyes again.

Truly, you probably wouldn’t actually be able to fall asleep like this. Kid had a point. It was uncomfortable and the cold steel of the table shoving into your ribs was horribly annoying. You adjusted yourself twice, trying to find a spot where it wasn’t impossible before you gave up and just stood.

Kid looked toward you immediately as though you might leave. You walked over to where he was sitting instead, squeezed between him and the table and straddled his lap, pressing your face tight against his chest.

So much better than the table.

“Hey!”

“Quieter please,” you mumbled against him. “I’ve had a headache for the past two days.”

“I don’t care,” he snapped but his voice was much softer now; a deeper rumble that you felt in your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting on me? I’m working.”

You shrugged in answer. “Comfortable.”

He smelled just as much like oil as the rest of his workshop did, sharp and metallic under the warmth of him. His chest was solid beneath your cheek, his breathing uneven with irritation, and still you buried your face deeper into his shoulder. You liked this top on him because it exposed so much of him, though given how miserable you were feeling, you wouldn’t have minded having his coat to wrap yourself in too.

“Why are you so tired?” he muttered. “Did you bump into trouble?”

“No,” you said. “You were right about putting the roger onto my boat. Anybody who saw it pissed off quickly.”

“They know our reputation.”

“Mm.”

He reached around you to grab something and you tilted your head to the disassembled equipment on the table. “Making something new?” you asked.

“Nah. It’s one of Killer’s punishers. He said the blade was loose yesterday so I’m taking it apart fully to make sure it’s still working.”

“Would suck if the blade came off while fighting,” you said, your voice slipping as you stumbled closer to sleep. “Just woosh, no more heads.”

Kid scoffed. “You must be fucking tired. You’re slurring all your words together.”

“I barely slept on the way back… it took so long.”

He shoved the table a little bit away and you settled properly on his lap, wrapped around him even as his chair creaked concerningly. “Don’t move around.”

“No promises.”

Sleep grabbed you embarrassingly fast once he started working again but when you woke up, it was to a rapidly darkening workshop. Not one of the lanterns was on and the dusky light of sunset was pushing through the window. Kid’s arm was heavy around your back, snores rumbling through his chest. You blinked blearily and lifted your head, still feeling the ache in your muscles.

You must have been really tired. It felt like you hadn’t moved in… however many hours had passed. Hadn’t you arrived in the morning?

You sat up a bit and Kid grumbled. His goggles were half on still and you pulled them off, snuggling closer to press a kiss to his cheek. And then to the corner of his mouth. Then to his jaw. Each time, he made a progressively more annoyed noise until you began to litter kisses over him.

He let you get away with it for longer than he would have admitted, his breathing still slow beneath you before irritation finally caught up with him. His hand came up to wrap around your mouth.

“Stop it,” he grumbled.

You kissed his palm playfully. “Guess you were tired too.”

“No, I just had a pain sitting on top of me so I couldn’t do anything else.”

“You couldn’t just sit up and move me?” you asked.

He didn’t respond. You laughed and slipped off his lap, feeling the stinging sensation of your muscles waking up again.

“Come on,” you said, tugging at his arm slightly. “I want to clean up and then sleep in a bed.”

“You’re fucking demanding, you know that?”

“I do. Want to shower with me?”

He spluttered at the sudden offer. At least he was awake properly now and you couldn’t help but laugh at the red tinging his face, something that immediately got you barked at to ‘stop’.

Kid didn’t take you up on it though. No sooner had you stepped into his quarters and he collapsed onto the bed, half crushing you against the mattress until you slipped into sleep with him.

Seemed you hadn’t been the only one not sleeping while you were away.

Still, you were home now and with him pressed tightly against you, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.