OP Delulu Land

You jolted back from him, unsure where you were or who he was. Your sudden movement had you grabbing your forehead in pain. Which in turn had you grabbing your shoulder in pain. Somehow you’d acquired a killer headache (and maybe a broken clavicle) by getting to…wherever you were. Had this person caused it? You struggled to sit up, your back now against the rough bark of the tree behind you.

But beyond your aches and pains, what really caught your attention was the man himself. He was far more beautiful than any other person you’d ever seen. His brilliantly white hair nearly sparkled in the sun, under which his eyes were hidden behind black cloth. His alabaster skin was completely unblemished, like a perfect marble statute. His clothes were basic – he wore a white frilly long sleeve shirt with a black vest and black pants – but exceedingly well tailored, like they were bespoke. Cluing you in to the fact that he was not human, he had long, pointed ears. He was gorgeous beyond compare, like moonlight reflecting off a placid lake on an early summer evening. He looked like a fantasy, an ethereal being not of this world.

But despite his overwhelming beauty, his very nature gave you pause. Something was not quite right with him, his perfection almost eerie. It was like there was a veneer of beauty under which something more sinister lurked, which had the hair rising on the back of your neck. Your gut told you this was no ordinary beautiful man, he was a predator.

And you had the distinct feeling you were his prey.

“You must have come through the veil during Beltane. But why?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. He still was staring down at you despite his eyes being hidden. He crouched down to consider you closely, looking you over intently. You didn’t know how he saw from behind the blindfold, and you were too nervous to ask. He didn’t say anything, but based on his frown, you suspected he found you wanting. Now closer to him, you could smell him a bit, a light floral scent hitting your nose. No, it wasn’t only flowers, you thought. He also smelled like the sky somehow – the sun and air combining to make a unique smell. 

After a moment, he reached forward to touch you with his index finger. Since it was unexpected, you flinched back. Instead of apologizing, your reaction made him laugh. The light sound sent shivers down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.  

“It seems humans have changed little in the hundreds of years since I’ve last seen one. Still scared little mice, still stinky, still ugly,” he said, his eyes flashing in mirth. Your mouth dropped open in outrage, and you were going to retort but he continued talking. Something about the way he spoke made you think that he was used to people listening. Er, not people…whatever he was.

“Can you speak?” he asked, standing up and clapping his hands twice. “At least say something instead of staring at me so rudely,” he scoffed, moving to lean against the tree. 

“I c-can,” you rasped, your voice thick and croaky. You wished you had water, but there wasn’t anything around you except the lovely forest.

“Tch, such an unpleasant voice,” he said, though his tone was light. You narrowed your eyes at the insult, but didn’t say anything. He smiled wider. It was difficult getting a reading on this being, you weren’t sure where you stood with him and it would probably be better not to piss him off.

“I’m sorry, but where am I?” you asked, saying the first question on the top of your mind. 

“Why, you’re in the realm of the Seelie! That should be obvious, no?” he replied, his smile turning into a frown. “Have humans really forgotten everything about the Fae?” Your eyes widened – you were in the fae realm? Fae were real? Clearly you were with someone new, in a new setting, and your old life was nowhere to be seen. 

You tried to synthesize the new information as quickly as possible. For now, you would accept what he told you and freak out in private later.  Hopefully this was all an elaborate dream, but you doubted that was the case based on the pain radiating down your arm. You’d seen enough clips of isekai anime to know that you were somewhere else and denying it would cause more harm than good. It would probably be better to try and suss things out rather than admit you were completely lost and confused.

“You’re a fairy?” you asked, your eyes flicking over his form. But then where were his wings?… you gasped as a moment later, his face was inches from yours. Suddenly all the humor of moments prior sucked out of the air as he held you pinned with only a look. He wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even breathing on you, but his presence had you immobilized all the same. 

“Never call us fairies,” he hissed. His presence felt heavy, like he was pressing on you from every angle despite him not touching you. You didn’t know what fae magic was like, but if this was an example, you were completely screwed in terms of strength. You would do anything to avoid being under his gaze like this – and he was doing this all with his eyes covered. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” you cried out, holding your shoulder with one hand. The pressure was hurting you even more than adjusting your shoulder did. He regarded you coolly, like he was contemplating your murder in his mind. A moment later you sagged against the tree as he released you; you hadn’t even seen him move. He crossed his arms, his mouth now turned into a pout.

“What do you know about the Fae?” he asked icily, drumming his fingers on his arms. You licked your lips and thought hard. Outside of general ren-faire based knowledge, you really didn’t know much. Sure, you saw one of the Lord of the Rings movies – but you’d fallen asleep halfway through. And you’d bought the Booktok fantasy book your friends had recommended, but you hadn’t actually read it yet. Even if you had consumed a lot of fantasy, you weren’t sure what was true and what wasn’t.

“I’m not sure I know anything,” you hedged, trying to take the safest route. You didn’t want him hurting you again, even if the damage had been slight. Maybe he would take pity on you and tell you what you needed to know. His toothy smile returned, a cheshire grin spreading across his face.

“Wonderful. I’ll be happy to tell you anything you wish to know. I am Prince Gojo of the Seelie Court. Please, do give me your name?” he asked, his tone much more respectful than it had been moments prior. You narrowed your eyes. There was something afoot, you were sure of it. The shift alone gave you pause, but there was something else gnawing at your mind. Wasn’t there something about the fae and names? Names being power or something like that? Or like bonding maybe? There was something about names, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. You shifted a moment, trying to think before answering.

“Some people call me, um…Ivy,” you said, looking behind him at a clearing. It was a little stupid to pick the first thing you saw, but some animal part of your brain was telling you not to share your real name. Besides, your mom had called you that once or twice when you were younger, given your proclivity to climb trees. So it wasn’t a complete lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth. Prince Gojo frowned at your words as he smacked his lips.

“No, that’s not quite right. Do give me your real name?” he insisted, giving you a more genuine smile. Or, you guessed it was his approximation of one since he was doubling down.

“That’s what people call me,” you asserted. No matter if he squished you again, you wouldn’t be giving him your real name. There was something about it, and you weren’t going to give up the little power you had in this new world. Prince Gojo scowled for a moment before allowing the harsh expression to slip off his face. 

“Well, time to go!” he said cheerfully.

“Where are we going?” you asked, looking around you. There didn’t seem to be anything but forest all around. Gojo threw back his head and laughed loudly, like you had told a great joke.

“Human impertinence never ceases to amaze me. We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going back to my court and castle, and you’re going to the afterlife!” he said, still chortling to himself. 

“I’m going back to where I’m from?” you asked, your brows hitched in confusion. 

“Ha! No, no. You’re quite funny, though,” he said, his white hair waving softly in the wind. “The magic between our worlds is too strong right now for you to successfully pass through the veil. I mean, you could try but you’d certainly die. You would have to wait for Samhain, when the veil is thin again, to try and go through. But that wouldn’t be for some time, given that Beltane was last night. Now the Seelie court is in full power. Samhain is next and it’s when the veil is thinnest for the Unseelie, so you’d have to convince Geto to let you through,” he explained. You didn’t quite catch the meaning of everything he was saying, but it was clear you couldn’t go home the way you came.

“But that doesn't matter. Humans aren't allowed in this realm. I shall have to dispose of you,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was nothing to him. Your mouth popped open in shock – he was casually planning to kill you? You scrambled back, your fingers and feet scrabbling against the forest floor. A small ball of blue was now pulsing in front of his finger, like a lazer trained on you.

“Though…you are somewhat amusing. And I’m desperately bored,” he mused, the ball quickly vanishing into nothingness. Whatever magic he had was strong, though you supposed that was why he was the Prince of the realm. Sweat was dripping down your back, his flip flopping about your death was doing a number on your nerves.

“Maybe it would be funny to surprise Geto with you. The great Prince of the Unseelie Court presented with a human,” Gojo said, tapping his chin. Your eyebrows hitched together – was he saying you’d be a gift? 

“That would be entertaining. If he kills you or not, it will be interesting for me either way. Yes, I’m going to bring you back. I can always kill you later, but I can’t unkill you,” he said decisively, nodding to himself. You gulped – the way Prince Gojo was casually alluding to your demise was freaking you out. And you weren’t sure Prince Geto was going to be any better if he was friends with Gojo. He looked down at you expectantly.

“Now as I already said, we’re going. Up,” Prince Gojo ordered you, like a dog. You did not point out that he had laughed and he was going to kill you the previous time you thought you were going somewhere. You struggled to your knees and pushed yourself to stand. Your shoulder was radiating hot pain, making you grimace as you held the pulsing joint. Whatever had happened in the veil had seriously hurt you.

Prince Gojo did not wait for you any longer before he began walking off. You stumbled and ran to catch up to him, afraid to fall behind. His long legs carried him faster than your own could, even without the excruciating pain in your torso. You hoped the castle was nearby, because you weren’t going to make it far with this kind of pain. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Prince Gojo asked, wrinkling his nose. “Why are you walking so strangely? Surely humans haven’t changed that much in recent years.”

“My shoulder’s messed up,” you said simply, tapping at the affected area. Prince Gojo stopped walking so suddenly that you nearly bumped into him. Some kind of barrier kept you from actually making contact with him, but you couldn’t see anything around him. Did the Fae have forcefields?

“Would you like for me to heal that for you?” Prince Gojo offered, pointing to your shoulder. You looked at him skeptically, but really, what other choices did you have? It was either Gojo or you spent however long until Prince Geto killed you grinding your teeth to keep from crying out. 

“Yeah,” you agreed lamely. Prince Gojo smiled wickedly before he extended his hand towards you, and a powerful surge of energy engulfed your body. Within seconds, your shoulder was healed. You exhaled deeply, the aching pain no longer bothering you at all. You weren’t sure if the power was exclusive to Gojo or was available to all Fae, but you were thankful. Going from seriously injured to completely healed was a heady feeling, your life improving within seconds.

“Thank you so much, Prince Gojo,” you exclaimed, moving your arm in a circle to stretch it. 

“You are welcome. And really, Prince Gojo is my title. If you ever need anything, you can call me Satoru.” You nodded, unsure what to do with this information. If he was royalty, wouldn’t you still need to call him by his title?

As your hand came up in front of your face, you noticed a shiny silver bracelet encircling your wrist. On the bracelet was a bright blue bead, almost glowing in the daylight. You definitely hadn’t been wearing this bracelet before now, did it come with being in the Fae realm?

“Where did this…what is this?” you asked, spinning the bead on the bracelet. The bead looked nearly identical to the little blue ball of magic he’d nearly ended your life with earlier. As you looked closer, you saw there were words inscribed on the outside in faint writing, but you couldn’t read what it said.

“I am feeling most kind today,” Prince Gojo began, his fingertips touching his chest with a flourish. “Not only did I spare your miserable life for the time being, but I gave you a physical reminder of the favor you owe me. Humans have weak memories, so I thought this would help. Do you like it?” he asked with a haughty look. 

“I do like it, but...favor? What favor?” you asked incredulously. Another bead suddenly appeared next to the first one, the two clinking lightly together.

“Now it’s two favors. I healed your arm for you, and gave you the bracelet. Surely you wouldn’t take my kindness as benevolence? A favor comes at the price of another. And really, I could have had you for four by now, but like I said, I'm feeling kind,” he explained with a smirk on his face. Your face drained of color as you looked at your wrist.

“Thank you,” you said dryly, turning the bracelet over to see where the clasp was. There was none. Another new blue bead formed before your eyes as you finished speaking.

"Wh -- another favor? For what? I didn't -- you didn't -"

"You thanked me. Which means I did something worth thanking me for. In other words, a favor," he said smugly.

"B-but what do I owe you? I don't have anything on me," you said, now looking at the three glowing beads.

You sputtered but caught up, walking briskly alongside him. Prince Gojo’s long legs meant you were taking three steps for every one of his, scurrying after him like a mouse. He did not appear to be bothered by anything, his limbs loose and graceful as he walked along no discernible path. After some time, a large, white, stone castle appeared in the distance. It had turrets and towers and narrow windows and ivy growing on the sides and everything you imagined when you thought about castles. 

“I’ll have you cleaned up, then we’ll find Geto. I would like to surprise him, but it can be challenging, even for me,” Prince Gojo informed you, like you were a stray cat he was bringing into the house. You inhaled sharply, but didn’t answer, afraid to incur another favor. Prince Gojo sighed.

“Oh, do calm down. If I wanted you dead, you would have been before you woke up. And the favors merely hang over your head, they don’t cause you harm directly. Relax, human,” Prince Gojo scoffed, not calling you by your nickname. You still weren’t going to tell him your name, but human wasn’t a great option either.

“I’m nervous. And pretty scared,” you replied, trying to share your true feelings. Maybe he’d feel pity for you and cut you some slack. Prince Gojo made a small noise of surprise as his smile returned. 

“Honesty? In my court? That’s refreshing. And as for being nervous and scared – you should be.”

Gojo POV

What a funny turn of events. Gojo had the distinct feeling that something was off in his realm that morning, so he set off to find out what it was. It wasn’t like the feeling of a new powerful curse, or a new strong fae popping up to challenge him. No, this was something new. And something new meant Gojo was excited.

And Gojo loved excitement.

The court was almost always stale and boring, the elders interfering with what Gojo thought was right. There was always court drama, Fae falling in and out of favor, problems with the Unseelie, and of course the growing divide between himself and Geto. Gojo had tried to bridge it a few times, but something had shifted in Geto. They had been the first two Princes in eons to bridge the Seelie and Unseelie courts, but now things were going awry. There were whispers that it was never meant to be, that the Seelie and Unseelie could never mingle, but Gojo didn’t agree. Geto had been having a hard time since the Riko had died, but he could surely mend their relationship. Maybe bringing you in would open up some conversations. Or not and they’d kill you together.

He couldn’t believe that all the cursed energy shifting around was because of you. He nearly laughed when he found you in the forest, your little body curled in on itself like a sleepy cat. Instead of some powerful being he would have to fight, there was only a tiny human, sleeping without a care in the world.

He had circled you a bit before waking you, wanting to determine what he was dealing with. After all, the last human to come through the veil had caused many problems for him and Geto. But that was in the past, and you didn’t seem to be of the same caliber. 

Gojo had looked you over carefully, noting your hair, body, and face. You were good looking in that way humans sometimes were – beautiful in a sort of grubby, mortal kind of way. Maybe you’d look better in clothes other than the ugly rags you wore and with the dirt washed off your body. He’d find out once he brought you back to the castle and had you attended to. 

He really should have killed you. Humans weren’t allowed in the Fae realm, not without an express invitation from the Fae court. But Gojo just couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when you were sleeping. That would be so impolite, he would at least do you the courtesy of letting you know why he was killing you.  

But he especially couldn’t kill you after you woke up and began interacting with him. It was mesmerizing watching your emotions flick across your face. When he had called you ugly, your little face soured like you’d eaten a lemonberry. When you were confused, your nose wrinkled and your brows hitched together. When he had revealed that he might kill you, your mouth hung open in a little o. It was adorable. You were so expressive, so unafraid to show your emotions on your face. 

Gojo was so used to the politics of the Courts that he’d forgotten how amusing it was to deal with humans. Even now as he slowly walked with you back towards his castle, you were biting your lip in your nervousness. Gojo watched your breasts bounce gently in the shapeless shirt you wore as you walked hurriedly to match his slow pace. Yes, there was something beautiful in you, he just had to bring it out. Like cutting and polishing a rough stone into a gleaming gem.

And you were so easy to trick! Three favors owed and you’d barely known each other an hour. Really, he was almost embarrassed for you at how foolish you were with your words. But Gojo was never one to turn down favors. He didn’t even know what he would request of you – what could someone like him need from a human? – but he wanted them on his ledger all the same. 

Besides, others at court would see your bracelet, which would give you some kind of protection. No one in the Seelie court would cause you terrible harm, but the Unseelie….it was best you wore something from himself to mark you as under his wing. Because, like it or not, you were now part of Gojo's court. 

A/N:

This has been rattling around in my head for a while. Can't you just see Gojo as fae? The white hair, the sparkling eyes, the long ears, the penchant for mischief? Or Geto as a long haired, ethereally beautiful man in flowing fae robes? Tell me I'm not the only one.

You finally hit Marco’s room, tired and sweaty. Thankfully you were wearing your normal soft suit that sort of cleaned you while you wore it so you didn’t smell too bad. You ran a hand up and down your stomach – you’d miss this baby suit when you were back on Lafftale. But sacrifices had to be made and if your suit was one of them, so be it. Thinking of Lafftale had you wondering about Sol and how she was faring. 

Your jaw tensed as you thought of Sol and her health. Only her lower leg had been paralyzed when you left, but Oro’s Virus had surely progressed since then. You gnawed on your lip in thought, your foot bouncing as you worried. Was she still able to walk? To use her arms? To chew and swallow? Oro’s progressed more quickly in women than in men since it traveled on the X chromosome. Once a woman got it, both chromosomes were affected and she deteriorated rapidly, and Lafftale didn’t have anything near the medical equipment that Marco did. 

Your breathing was rapid again, and this time not from walking. You wished you could contact her somehow, but there was no way to know what was happening there. Suddenly, you felt completely pent up again despite all your previous exercise. And what helped your restlessness? Masturbation, you thought sagely, nodding to yourself. Not only did the pirates underestimate you, but they also didn’t understand how brilliant you were. 

You hiked yourself off the bed and started for the small container that Marco had given you for your belongings. Rifling through the myriad bows that kept accumulating, you found the little rose that brought you so much pleasure. You smiled at it – maybe you could convince Marco that since your heart rate climbed as you used it, it should count as exercise. Your head turned as you heard the snick of the door, only to see Marco leaning against the wall.

“Going to have some fun yoi?” he asked with a mild raise of his eyebrows.

“Yes. I’m going to relax by myself,” you said acerbically. You were still mad about the walking thing, and besides, masturbation was a solo activity. There was little hope in your mind that Marco would actually listen to you, but you felt like being bratty all the same. 

Whenever sex was involved, Marco was always a pest, and you didn’t think now would be any different. Sure, he’d left you alone the one time, but you didn’t think it was going to be a recurring pattern. Honestly, you thought that Marco was going to demand to stay with some flimsy excuse about making sure you weren’t ill or going to faint or something. Then he’d probably make you use it in front of him, sitting himself in front of your open legs. Or maybe pry your legs open and use it on you himself, making sure you knew how to operate the machine properly. 

Actually, he would probably want to punish you for mouthing off. He would hold you down, spread your legs apart and tease you with the toy, turning it off when you came close to coming. Marco would do that until you cried from frustration, licking the tears off your face. Or maybe instead he would use it on the highest setting, making you writhe in his hold but not stopping as he overstimulated you. Maybe he’d make you come over and over, since you had the impetus to start masturbating yourself. It was impossible to know what Marco would do, and if your nipples were puckering with your thoughts, well…that wasn’t on you.

Marco considered you for a moment, his mouth opening briefly before closing again. He swallowed and took a deep breath, his teal eyes flashing. Oh boy, here it comes…

“Very well yoi. I’ll bring you a beverage after you’re done. This much exertion means you’ll need more electrolytes,” Marco replied, pushing off the wall. Your eyebrows hitched as your hand curled around the rose.

“You’re not going to stay?” you asked, trying to make sense of what was happening. Marco shook his head.

“You specified that you wanted to be alone. I’m honoring your wishes,” he replied, crossing his arms. He was gripping each opposing arm tightly, but other than that he looked like the same Marco you had always known. The same perverted, lecherous, seductive, and deviant Marco….who wasn’t going to be with you.

“Oh. I - uh. Thank you,” you said, forcing down your shock. Maybe he really was changing, you thought as the door closed behind him. You kept watching the closed door, sure that it would open again in an instant. But nothing happened other than the sounds of Marco’s feet treading down the hall. You had gotten what you asked for – Marco had left you alone to your own devices.

So why did some part of you wish he had stayed?

It was actually insulting to see just how stupid the Whitebeard Commanders thought you were. Either that, or these infamous pirates with bounties in the hundreds of millions (and sometimes billions) were the worst bunch of actors you’d ever met. Because they were clearly pushing you to escape. 

And it wasn’t like they were subtle about it. If you had to rank them, Izou was the best at hinting at potential methods and strategies for you to escape, followed by Marco. Ace was alright only because he couldn’t focus on more than one thing at once and thus constantly forgot that he was supposed to be getting you to escape. Thatch, however, couldn’t keep the ruse up for longer than a minute. You felt like if you gave him your best puppy eyes, he’d tell you their whole plan in under a minute. 

It wasn’t a particularly difficult plan to decipher, either. It took you about three minutes to figure out that they wanted you to escape so that they could follow you to Lafftale. According to their plans, you were going to lead them to the human colony where they would then kidnap all the humans and take them aboard the Moby, like Marco had done to you. It would be the end of all human freedom for the rest of time, and they were going to use you to accomplish their goals.

Or so they thought. 

For now, you were going to play their game. If they wanted to make it easier for you to escape, you’d take all the help you could get. They would be patting themselves on the back, pleased they tricked the idiotic human right up until you slipped away from under their noses. They still underestimated you, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

And you really had no time to lose. Despite having no contact with Lafftale, you had the unshakable feeling that you were running out of time, and that you needed to leave the Moby immediately. Nothing good had been happening when you left and you were sure they were in greater dire straights than last you saw everyone. 

So a few days later, and you were about as ready as you could be to escape. Between your work and the Commanders helping you, things were falling into place rapidly. You had to keep pretending you weren’t planning anything, they had to keep pretending they weren’t trying to help, it was all a lot of emotional labor you wouldn’t miss once you made your way back to Lafftale. 

To that end, Marco had brought you to the infirmary and showed you where things you would want were. He did it under the guise of showing you where things were so you didn’t injure yourself, an excuse so flimsy you nearly stopped him halfway through his explanation.There were vaccines and cures ready to go in vials, as well as some electrolyte mixes that would be added to water, and some more advanced bandages and braces. You feigned general disinterest, though of course you noted where everything was for your needs.

Beyond that, you had also convinced Marco that you didn’t need to go into the stupid wheel again. It had been beyond humiliating walking on that thing. Not only that but you didn’t want to hear grown beings hundreds of times stronger than you saying versions of ‘you go girl’ when you were walking. Of all the tortures Marco had foisted upon you, that one was surely the worst. So instead you had talked him into walking the ship with you, which was beneficial in a few ways.

For one, unfortunately Marco was correct that your cardiovascular health was poor. He had told you that humans were long distance runners on Eurt, and that some humans could run for hours on end. You didn’t think that would ever be you, but you should be at least able to walk for a while without having to stop for breaks. You needed to be able to run for short distances without feeling like you were dying for your escape, and this was helping a little. But more than the increase in your stamina, your walks around the ship were yielding critical information.

Marco allowed you to set the route of your walks, ambling alongside you slowly as you huffed and puffed. Sometimes you talked a little bit, but he mostly left you to your own devices. That was fine by you, you were trying to memorize different pathways on the ship. You wanted to be able to get around without your digital map, so it was imperative you could navigate the ship on foot. You had also walked with Marco back towards the hangar that contained those old pods you had seen briefly before that freak threatened to eat you. Just being in the area had your pulse quickening, but you doubted that homicidal weirdo would do anything when you were with Marco. 

“What’s in there?” you asked, stopping in front of a set of doors. It still wasn’t on your map, but you wanted to see what Marco would say.

“Nothing interesting. Second Division storage yoi,” Marco lied easily. If you hadn’t been in there already, you would have believed him completely. 

“Like old ships and pods?” you prompted, trying to keep your tone neutral. It was a reasonable question, everyone knew that the Second Division was in charge of the smaller ships.

“Hmm. I don’t think so, I think they dispose of older equipment regularly. Do you want me to ask Ace yoi?” Marco asked, turning to look at you. You shook your head, aware that this was some kind of trap.

“No, I believe you. Doesn’t sound interesting,” you replied with a shrug as you continued walking.

“I would agree,” Marco agreed with a smile before tapping a message on his Controller.

The next day, Ace miraculously offered to teach you how to fly one of the new escape pods. He said it was “in case of extreme emergency.” You were barely able to control your eye roll before nodding and accepting his offer. 

“See? Isn’t this better? These new escape pods are great,” Ace said, taking the sim goggles off you. 

You licked your lips – the newer pods were easier to maneuver, sure. But you’d been trained on the old kind, that was your comfort zone. Not only that, but older pods seemed to be more modifiable, more able to act as autonomous small ships rather than just escape pods. These new ones couldn’t even send custom distress signals, they only used canned ones. Ace said it was so pirates wouldn’t be obliterated on sight by the Galactic Government with a distress signal.

“It’s different,” you concurred, standing up to walk back with Ace to the pod dock.

“These newer pods are awesome. They can contact other pods of the same variety, they can cloak, they have so many new features. You’ll love it,” Ace said, smiling broadly. His eyes looked to the side, like he was remembering something last minute. 

“Haha! Of course not that you’ll be flying! You’ll always be with Marco! Or me! And we would help you! And we never have to evacuate the ship!” Ace said, his tail flicking. God, they needed acting lessons. Maybe humans were the only natural actors in the universe. Or maybe all these pirates sucked at it. Either way, you pretended you didn’t notice anything amiss in Ace’s comment.

“By the way, where’s my old pod?” you asked, shifting the conversation. If possible, you were going to fly that one back since you knew it the best and you had quite a ways to go. Obviously you didn’t believe Marco that there was only storage in that pod hangar, you wanted to know if yours was still there somewhere. 

Ace’s brow furrowed as he pushed his orange hat off his head. His fuzzy ears popped up, making you want to rub them between your fingers. Based on some books you’d read on Lafftale, Ace looked like a giant Eurt cat. Apparently, cats had been companions and pets of humans, enjoying a life of leisure and luxury. You didn’t know if it was something innate in your human DNA, but you wanted to rub and scratch his ears so badly whenever you saw them peeking out of his hair. Ace frowned at your question.

“Oh, we destroyed it a few days after we recovered it. It was too old and worn to use even for spare parts,” he explained, scratching his chin. To your surprise, tears pricked at your eyes with the sudden news. You blinked rapidly to make them stop, but something in you had cracked with Ace’s statement.

And really, it was stupid. You didn’t care all that much about the pod itself. It was Terra’s originally, from back when she had first made contact with Lafftale years prior. You knew it was a hunk of junk and that it was old and difficult to work, that didn’t hurt your feelings exactly. Hell, you had shouted the very same statements at it while you were flying it. But hearing how easily they disposed of something so valuable to you and the others had you kind of messed up. 

They didn’t know how hard everyone had to work, how much effort it was to make it through every single day. Living cost so much on Lafftale – endless hours of sweat and blood and tears for life to continue. For these rich pirates, it was just a useless old pod. But for you and the other humans, it had been the only lifeline left in the universe to save everyone from dying. And they threw it away like trash.

“Hey, are you ok? Did I say something bad? You’re not hurt, are you?” Ace asked quickly, pulling you closer to the wall and away from other Second Division crew in the area. It wasn’t Ace’s fault, he hadn’t meant to upset you. You shook your head, wiping away a tear that fell down your cheek. Your face burned with the added humiliation of not being able to stop yourself from crying, but Ace had seen that before too. 

“ ‘M not hurt,” you said, trying to quell your tears. If you cried too much, Marco might come and interrupt your lesson with Ace. Though, given how disinterested he had been in you lately, that might not be true anymore. Even so, you didn’t want to take the risk. 

“I’m sorry, Luna. I didn’t know you would care so much. We can build you one that looks the same on the outside. I know humans care a lot about how stuff looks,” Ace offered. You shook your head again, ignoring the annoying human comment. 

“No. It’s fine. I’m fine,” you reiterated, crossing your arms. 

“But really, Luna, if you ever need to fly an escape pod, fly the new ones. The modules I used to train you were based on pod 10-5, so if at all possible, use that one. It’s safer and more reliable than anything you’ve flown before. The kind you flew before are prone to malfunction,” Ace said seriously, giving you a small nod. Right, back to the charade. You sniffled and dried your eyes, shifting back into the role you needed to play. After all, there would be endless time to cry once you got back to your home. 

“Will do. But I hope that never happens,” you agreed with a watery smile. 

Marco wasn’t the only liar on board.

Marco POV

Everything had been working out for the most part. You were planning your escape with their help, and were nearly complete in your preparation. The Commanders had thought about everything you needed and guided you to be able to acquire all your goals without being overly obvious. You hadn’t suspected a thing, much to Marco’s delight, and were nearly ready to make your “escape.” 

Just the thought of you leaving the ship was filling Marco with anxiety, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Even now he was pretending to work while remaining in your presence. Since he couldn’t touch you without your initiation, he settled for anything he could get. He tried to hang around you without being obvious, lingered a little closer than he should at times, and even “forgot” to warn you about a change in flooring on the ship so you’d stumble and he could right you. Everything about you called to him, but he had to keep himself on course in order to help save the humans. 

The small amount of comfort he received from your presence wasn’t enough. You were so weak and vulnerable and space was a brutal place for delicate things like you. Marco wished you would just tell him where Lafftale was and how to help you, but that ship had set sail long ago. And yes, they would be able to track and control the pod remotely from the Moby but the idea of you navigating those tiny pods had him spending his nights awake, yearning to touch you from his side of the bed. 

Marco sighed as he discreetly watched you lying on his bed on your stomach, kicking your legs up in the air. Based on what Izou believed, you were likely going to try escaping tomorrow after your big sleep. Marco frowned at the thought – you didn’t appear to be distressed about anything, not even escaping an Emperor’s crew. Instead, you were chewing on your lip as you reviewed a Common lesson, your eyes narrowing as you considered the information in front of you.

“Wait, Marco. This says - hold on,” you said, sitting upright on the bed. You hopped off and walked over to him, your Controller displaying information from your lesson. Marco pretended to break his concentration – he’d been looking over the same report for half an hour and didn’t even know which patient it was about. You walked over to him, your brows knitted together.

“This lesson says that this is the word for ‘Prince,’ you said, pointing to a word on your screen. Marco looked over and nodded. Marco supposed you were doing a module on addressing beings with hierarchical societies and learning vocabulary related to that.

“Yes, that’s correct yoi,” he agreed, unsure where you were going with this. 

“But – I thought it meant  – when I was calling you Master, that’s– that’s what I was using,” you said, bringing up one of your old messages. “See? Here I used this word, but doesn’t it mean master?”

“No, it means ‘prince,’ like your lessons show. In retrospect I should have corrected you at the time, but I found it endearing yoi,” Marco said with a mild smile. In truth, he had saved every single message and reread at them when you weren’t around.

“Oh my fucking –”

“Luna,” Marco warned as your face flamed.

“I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU PRINCE THIS WHOLE TIME?! THAT’S SO EMBARRASSING! IT’S WORSE THAN MASTER!” you yelled, throwing your hands out to the side. Marco chuckled, he would miss your antics for the short time you were gone from his side. 

“Not the whole time. Now you call me by my given name,” Marco explained calmly. “Is there anything else yoi?” he asked, though he was loath to end the conversation. Every minute with you was precious and the closer you came to making your getaway made Marco want to embrace you all the more.  Who knew how long it would take to retrieve you from your mission? They were going to have to follow you to Lafftale, and since no one knew where it was, it was impossible to determine how long he would be without you in his arms. Once he got you back, he was never letting you out of his sight again. 

“Whatever. I’m going to bed,” you said flippantly, as if it could cover the evidence of your still hot face. Marco looked at the time – it was early for him to sleep but he wanted to spend as much time in proximity to you as possible.

“I think I will as well yoi,” Marco said, turning off his computer screen. “That is, if you don’t mind.” You frowned at him and Marco’s heart clenched. He hoped you weren’t going to ask him to leave. Of course he would, he had to continue the plan, but it hurt like tearing a limb away every time you asked for private time. You were lucky he wasn’t keeping count of the times you rejected him so that he could make up for it later once he had you permanently in his care.

“I don’t mind,” you said in a stilted tone. Marco kept calm but felt like sagging with relief. A few moments later and the two of you were in bed, laying side by side, each on your own backs. Marco ensured that none of his body was touching yours, even as he yearned to pull you to him and kiss you once again. 

The room was silent as you laid there, though your eyes were open and your breathing wasn’t evening out. If Marco had to guess, you were thinking about your escape plans. He couldn’t bear the secret keeping between you, after this he would have to ensure that you never lied to one another again. You were already trusting him more, surely that meant that you could promise never to lie to him again. Could mates even lie to one another? Marco pondered the subject as you fidgeted next to him in the bed. 

After a few minutes, Marco turned on his side away from you. You needed to sleep well and get intense rest for your upcoming trip, so if his presence was disturbing you, he’d try to keep it to a minimum. He was selfishly staying when he didn’t need to rest just to be near you, so the least he could do was to allow you some relaxation. A moment later, he felt your fingers lightly pressing on his back before receding immediately.

“Marco, do you…do you not like me anymore?”

Your POV

Maybe Marco wasn’t acting.

Maybe Marco didn’t care if you got away.

Well, you were sure he generally cared in some kind of clinical way. He still made you walk and drink water and eat and rest like he always had. And you were still valuable, so it wasn’t like he could get rid of you completely. But he no longer doted on you, or watched you doing mundane things, or told you little facts he thought you might find interesting. When you walked the ship, he mostly kept his thoughts to himself unless you asked him a question – and even then he didn’t seem keen to keep the conversation flowing.

But ever since you asked Marco for space, it seemed like something had shifted in him. Maybe you requesting autonomy had made Marco realize that you weren’t just some mindless pet, and he wasn’t interested in being your friend anymore. Not that you were friends, but…well, you didn’t know what you and Marco were but he seemed disinterested in you as a whole. You weren’t his pet and you weren’t his friend, not crew, not a subordinate, and certainly not his equal… any way you sliced it, Marco didn’t seem to care much about you any longer.

When Marco turned his back to you in bed, you felt your heart break apart. Surely it was just your ego, but still, how could he treat you so coldly when he used to pull you close to his chest every night? Was this really the same being who had forced you to sit on his lap at every turn and wanted to preen you himself? The one who had fished for you and brought you rare Eurt items because he thought you might enjoy them? The one who flustered you for fun and turned humanoid for you? 

Maybe your novelty had run its course and Marco was ready to move on. Before you could stop yourself, you touched his broad back with your fingers, wanting to feel his warm, muscled, soft back one more time.

“Marco, do you…do you not like me anymore?” you asked, pulling your fingers away just as quickly. You wished you could take your words back as soon as they left your mouth, shame washing over you. There had been times when you sincerely wished Marco dead, and now you were practically begging him for attention. Maybe you really were the stupid, emotional creature that Marco thought you to be.

“What?” Marco asked, turning immediately to face you. “What are you talking about yoi?” His face was drawn in concern, looking into your eyes like he did when trying to determine if you were injured. Now you really wished you could unsay it as you shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

“I, um…you don’t have to like me, of course. It’s not like that, I get it. But, um, no – no, it’s ok,” you stammered, holding up a hand in front of you to try and show you didn’t mean what you had said.

“How could – why would you think that?” Marco asked, reaching for your face. But his fingers never made contact, fluttering back down to the empty space between you. You shrugged and looked away from him, unwilling to verbalize the competing feelings within you. It was pathetic to admit that you felt his absence, that you wanted more of his attention. You didn’t want all of the old Marco to return, but the way he was treating you now didn’t feel great either.

“”Do you really think I don’t like you anymore yoi?” he repeated, his eyes softening. You didn’t reply, which was answer enough. Silence dragged on between you for a single moment before he sighed.

“Oh, Luna,” Marco cooed sadly. He looked down for a moment, before pressing a button on the top of his controller. He then pushed his talon into the bottom, making it pop open. Marco removed it completely and tossed it off the bed, like it was a weight dragging him down. 

Marco’s focus returned back to you, his hand reaching for you once more. “May I?” he whispered, his hand so close you could feel the warmth. You nodded weakly, unsure where this was going. Maybe this was going to be the final letdown where he told you that you overestimated your worth or value to him or that someone else was going to be your master now. He finally made contact, cupping your cheek gently and turning your face to his.

“Luna, I cannot describe how much I yearn for you,” Marco said quietly. “I have heeded your words and have been attempting to give you the independence you seek, and it has been an unbelievable challenge for me. Nothing could make me not lo– like you. I want your time, your attention, your laughter, your conversation, everything you are. I want it all yoi.” Your mouth hung open with Marco’s words. You swallowed thickly, unsure of how to answer Marco’s confession. 

“I’m trying to be better for you, to give you what you asked for. I haven’t been touching you unless you touch me first, or without your express permission. I’m trying to give you space for your own thoughts and experiences,” he continued. “Is that why you felt that I no longer liked you? You missed my attention?” he pressed, the pad of his hallux rubbing your cheek. 

“I don’t feel ignored,” you mumbled, even as your heart skipped a beat. Marco definitely didn’t need to know that you felt that way. Marco smiled indulgently, his eyes dancing with mirth. 

“I am glad. I would never want you to feel that way. You are the most special, wonderful, interesting being on this ship yoi,” Marco continued, his words making you flush down to your chest. You almost felt like you did on the wheel, his compliments making you want to slink away. 

“Because I’m human?” you groused, trying to stymy your emotions.

“Because you’re you. Even if I had been on Eurt and met all the humans there, I would still like you the most yoi,” Marco assured you, his hallux rubbing over your bottom lip. You didn’t really know what to say to all that – you had assumed Marco only cared about you for your fertility or for your humanity, or novelty, but never because of who you were as a person. Maybe you had misjudged him a little. And truthfully, you were feeling giddy now that you knew he did still want you. 

“You’re just saying that. You’ve only met one human,” you said, giving him a sly smile. Marco shook his head.

“No. I know it for a fact,” he said with complete certainty. OK, he was really making you feel wanted with all his talk about enjoying your company.

“So…out of curiosity, what would you do if you could touch me again?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation a little. Sure, that rose thing was fucking great, but it was different than the touch of another living being. And once you got back to Lafftale, it wasn’t like any of the men were interesting to you there so you’d be back to the celibate life. Marco laughed, his fingers lightly pinching your cheek.

“Mmh. Naughty little human tempting me, knowing I cannot act on my urges,” Marco purred. 

“You can tell me, it’s ok,” you assured him, eager to hear what he would do. Marco shifted slightly closer to you, his body nearly touching your own. 

“I will be honest. There is something I have always wanted to do together that we have not yet attempted yoi,” he said, his gaze boring into your own. You felt like you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he began painting a scene in your mind.

“I would love to train your throat to accept my cock,” Marco husked, his hold on your face shifted so his hallux was now pressing lightly on the front of your throat. Your breathing picked up as Marco continued talking, the rest of his fingers loosely circling your neck.

“H-how?” you breathed out. You’d heard of oral sex before, people did it on Lafftale all the time. You never personally felt compelled to try it yourself, but you weren’t completely unaware of what it entailed. Still, you wanted to hear Marco’s take on the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be all at once, of course. I would not overwhelm you, I am not a cruel master to you yoi.  I would guide you, telling you exactly how to please me. I would have you naked between my legs, your body still shivering from the orgasm I would have already given you on my own tongue. First, I would have you licking my cock like the treat that it is, your warm, pink tongue flicking out of your mouth all over my shaft. You would be hesitant at first, unsure if you were doing it correctly, but I would assure you that you were. You are always a good little human for me,” Marco purred, his fingers gripping the column of your neck a little more strongly.

“Next, you would wrap your warm little mouth around the tip of my cock, swirling your tongue around me. Your hands would rest on my thighs, your fingers curling as the tip of my cock hit the back of your throat for the first time. You would take me deeper and deeper into your mouth, the sounds of my pleasure increasing your own desire yoi,” he rasped, his words creating a hypnotic effect over you. 

“I would praise you as you took me down your throat, acclimating yourself slowly to my large cock. It would be a challenge for you, tears leaking down your sweet face and drool down your chin. I would wipe your tears away as my hands wrapped around your head, guiding you up and down my shaft as I shallowly bucked my hips. It would be at your pace, but I would not be able to stop myself from enjoying the sensations yoi.”

“Soon, I would come undone under your ministrations, keeping your head in place as I came down your throat. Afterwards I would pull you off my cock and into my lap, ready to repay you handsomely for a job well done,” Marco said, his eyes flashing. You nodded mutely, unable to summon a single word as a reply.

“But, that would only be if I could touch you. Which I cannot. Not without your permission,” Marco said easily, removing his hand from you entirely and shrugging. He rolled over onto his back, resting his hands behind his head and sighed, as if he was ready to go to sleep. You narrowed your eyes – he knew exactly what he was doing.

Meanwhile, you could feel your own slick between your thighs. Marco’s words had something to you, something wicked. You licked your lips, weighing your options. Really, you should go to sleep and get rested for your escape the following day. It would be long, challenging, and anxiety producing. There were many moving parts in play and everything needed to line up exactly right in order for you to actually get away from the Whitebeard Pirates and not just lead them to Lafftale. 

On the other hand, when you succeeded you would once again be stuck on Lafftale. No one would think you were unique or interesting or sexy or smart, or any of the things that Marco saw in you. You would go from being someone special back to regular old Luna. And there would be no one who would want to pleasure you like Marco did, that was for sure….Oh what the hell. You might as well get some while there was a hot being who wanted you and thought you were the greatest thing in the universe.

“I guess we could try it. If you think it would be fun,” you said as indifferently as you could. Marco’s eyes snapped to yours, his grin widening. He rolled onto his side, holding his head up on his palm. 

“I would ensure it would be fun yoi,” Marco said, his fingers creeping on the bed towards you.

“You said I would get to come first, though,” you pointed out, thinking about the fantasy he had woven for you. Marco’s fingers stopped their approach as he leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“So I did. Do you give me permission to push my tongue so deep into your sweet cunt that you scream?”

Sol POV

Sol looked at the sky, just about the only thing she could now do from her bed bound position. She was thankful that at least the pain had stopped, the paralysis now up to her shoulders. Once Oro’s virus ate through enough of the nervous system, the numbness and sudden pins-and-needles feelings gave way to nothing. Frankly it was a relief after living with the debilitating pain Sol had been in for months even if it meant that death was near. 

There was no denying that Sol was in the final stages of Oro’s virus – she had seen it happen to so many on Lafftale by this point. There was nothing to do other than accept what was coming for her. In her heart, Sol had held out a shred of hope that Luna would return. In her dreams, she sometimes saw Luna running to her, a syringe with a cure in hand. Luna would save her in her last moments, snatching Sol away from death’s door. They’d cry and laugh as Luna held Sol, the feeling returning to Sol’s limbs so she could feel her sister’s touch once more.

But that was never going to happen. Luna wasn't coming back, and Sol would never feel Luna hugging her or brushing her hair. They would never meet again in this life, never travel to Eurt, never eat chocolate, never go swimming in water. 

Sol smiled to herself, hoping Luna was faring well wherever she was. Since no one knew what became of Luna after her escape, Sol liked to imagine Luna met someone who loved her and was taking care of her. Someone who protected her, gave her water, food, love and anything else Luna could ever want. 

But that was merely another childish fantasy. Sol didn't dare think of what actually happened to Luna, this time preferring to keep her delusions.

Sol closed her eyes, ready to sleep once again. She was so tired nowadays, so tired. But at least Luna was with her in her dreams.

“You and Luffy are always yelling. I don’t think you have another volume setting between whispering and yelling,” you said, matter-of-factly. Ace laughed with his whole chest, which made you smile in return. Fucking charisma, both he and Luffy had it in spades. It made you wonder about their other brother and what he was like. Probably another black haired idiot with a sweet smile, inner turmoil, and a penchant for falling asleep after eating.

“You should meet my friends if you think I’m loud –”

“That’s me, right?” asked a tall figure in a red and white kimono. You looked up at them, your eyes noting the countless hours it likely took them to get their specific look. Unless that was all natural? Their hair was white, teal and green in absolutely stunning waves, starting from their…horns. Whatever, you decided. It seemed like this was one of those cartoons where people could have any kind of hair imaginable. 

“Yeah! That’s you!” Ace said, giving finger guns to a giant…person-ish being. “Misty, this is Yamato. He’s from Wano,” Ace declared proudly, reaching up to try to put his arm over Yamato’s shoulders. Ace was about two and a half feet too short to accomplish it, but Yamato didn’t seem to mind. And if the reveal that Yamato was from Wano meant something, you didn’t know what that would be. Maybe everyone in Wano wore a giant purple and white bow or had giant maces. Hard to say.

“Pleased to meet you,” you said easily, extending your hand. Yamato switched his giant spiky mace from one hand to the other and grabbed your own. He gripped your hand harshly and shook it vigorously before letting go. You winced but smiled, he was clearly trying to be friendly.

“Likewise. Ace usually hates the Readers, but he says you’re like a big sister to him,” Yamato declared with a giant smile. You raised an eyebrow at Ace, giving him a playful smile.

“Is that so? Does that mean I get to boss you around?” you asked, taking another big gulp of your coffee. 

“You already do. You made me help Sanji with the laundry,” Ace replied, stretching his arms over his head. Seeing Ace had you wondering…

“I didn’t hear you complaining. Wait, why are you up so early today? On the Merry you didn’t wake up before noon –”

“That’s not true –”

“Yeah it is. I had to flip your bed over to get you out of it,” you said, looking at the now rising sun.

“Me ‘n Yamato are gonna go fight in the melee. Represent the Whitebeard Pirates. Only a few of us are going, these small fry can’t take it –”

“Fuck off, Portgas-ya,” Law said as he sidled up, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. Ace didn’t seem to mind, giving a shrug.

“I mean, ‘s true. That’s why most of the Commanders and Pops aren’t fighting. Pops would kill you all in like, seconds. For real. So it’s jus’ me, Yamato, I think two or three others…oh, and Marco –” You glanced over at Whitebeard on his giant chair – just how strong was he?

“Izou is joining just for today,” Yamato said, rubbing his chin. “He said he wasn’t going to ruin his nighttime routine for a bunch of lousy, snot nosed nobodies so he’s coming back tonight.”

“We’re not nobodies. My bounty is already 200 million –” Law interrupted, his tone clipped.

“That’s not much around here,” Ace said with a cocky grin.

“And I’m not fighting, I’m on call for the first idiot who gets knocked out yoi,” Marco said, sidling up with his own cup of coffee.

“Tch. I’m a doctor too, I can do that,” Law scoffed, before gulping down some of his black coffee.

“You’re a doctor, you can fight, what can’t you do?” you said sarcastically, giving him a snarky look. Your eyes slid to Marco’s and he grinned back at you. 

“Kids these days –”  Another loud voice resounded across the deck before you could continue your thought.

“HE CAN’T FUCK –”

“Shut the fuck up Eustass-ya,” Law growled back at the larger man. Kid barked out another laugh, his painted smile wide across his face. Killer was with him, drinking an iced coffee through a straw. You waved to Killer with a smile. Killer waved back. You couldn’t see his face under the mask but you bet he was smiling. Man, Killer’s a great guy, you thought.

“Not that it’s your business, but I –”

“Whimper when Strawhat kisses your neck,” Kid interrupted in a high pitched register, his fists under his chin in an approximation of a cute gesture. You laughed despite yourself, it was pretty funny. 

“You like getting punched in the face while you’re going at it!” Law retorted coolly, though his stiffening posture suggested Law was actually getting riled up.

“How would you know that? You peepin’ on how a real man does it?” Kid asked with a shit eating grin. One thing was for sure – Kid was good at rage baiting Law. And based on how tightly wound Law was, maybe that was a good thing. They started arguing loudly which was your sign to leave. Too early, too loud. Except for Killer, of course.

“Killer, if you’d like a haircut, feel free to find me,” you tossed out. At that, Kid let go of Law’s blue jacket to look at you.

“Thanks –” Killer said with a thumbs up.

“He won’t need the help of a stupid Strawhat Reader, I can do it for him. I cut my own hair,” Kid retorted. You considered his strange, tulip-like head for a moment. 

“I can tell,” you deadpanned. Law snickered, which made you feel a sense of accomplishment. Getting a stoic person like Law to laugh always felt great. 

“IT’S NOT FUNNY YOU FUCKING QUACK –”

“I WENT TO MEDICAL SCHOOL! YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A DOCTOR ON YOUR CREW –”

“Bye, boys. Have fun out there,” you tossed behind you as you left the increasingly loud group. You began humming the tune of “Tiptoe through the Tulips” as you walked away. If Kid was rude to you again, that was the next song you’d be teaching Luffy. They would learn to fear your ways…

After finishing your surprisingly tasty coffee, you had gotten down to business. You didn’t want to start with the Captain, wanting to get your groove on other large faces before his. Since there were so many people on board, it wasn’t hard to find people willing to be your first snip of the day. You’d done a few easy haircuts and shaves, and refreshed Jozu’s lovely bantu knots for him. For pirates who were constantly on the seas, they certainly had a lot of unique hairstyles. But who were you to judge? At least it was interesting and not just hundreds of heads of ashy blonde beachy waves.

You had your scissors and straight edge razor ready from the last time you had sharpened them with Zoro. It had actually been kind of cute – you and Zoro were getting ready to sharpen your respective tools when Sanji came out onto the deck. He was bringing you an afternoon coffee like your personal waiter with a giant smile. As always, it fell when he saw Zoro sitting next to you.

“Tch. Move, you shitty moss,” Sanji said, kicking Zoro’s boot. It wasn’t a real kick, you knew that by now. If Sanji had really been kicking, Zoro would have had to block with a sword. Their feats were impressive, and you were a little curious to see them fight on Melee Island. But this tap was only a means to move Zoro. And for once, Zoro didn’t react other than moving his foot. You had realized that when either Sanji or Zoro were actually engaged in their respective crafts, the other would respect their time and space.

“Fuck off, Ero-cook. We’re gonna start sharpening,” Zoro said, pulling out his assortment of whetstones. It was a little cute that Zoro had lumped the two of you into a “we.” Maybe he was finally feeling more friendly towards you. You felt like tossing him a bone for his kindness.

“It’s true, I have my scissors and everything,” you said, showing him your disassembled scissors. Sanji’s head cocked to the side in that adorable way it did when he was considering new information.  “Thank you for the coffee, Sanji. Would you like to join us as well?,” you asked as you accepted your delicious beverage. 

“Hmm…I do have a few knives I need to sharpen. Would it bother you if I accepted your invitation?” Sanji asked, holding his serving tray under his arm. He was looking at you as he spoke but really, his attention had flicked to Zoro’s whetstones. Had they really never sharpened their implements together before? It seemed like a good bonding activity for them, something that they could do without arguing. They were both incredible at their respective fields – Sanji at cooking (and kicking?) and Zoro at swordfighting. Well, you assumed Zoro was good, you’d never actually seen him really fight before. So this might help them find some common ground that didn’t lead to actionable violence.

“Yes!” you replied cheerily.

“No,” Zoro said with a scowl at the same time you agreed. 

“I wasn’t asking you, molded moss–”

“I wasn’t inviting you, love-cook –” You gave Zoro a dirty look before overriding the first mate.

“I was inviting him and I’m dying so I get to say yes or no. Sanji, please join us,” you stated primly before giving Sanji a wide smile.

“You can’t use that to get your way all the time,” Zoro scoffed as Sanji walked briskly back to the kitchen.

“Sure I can,” you replied with an easy smile. “And once I die, you won’t have to hear it anymore,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. You’d always had a darker sense of humor and it didn’t seem to bother anyone on the Strawhat Pirates. Zoro grunted but didn’t say anything else, just took the rest of his tools out of his kit. Sanji returned moments later with three of his most used knives, along with a small whetstone and some towels. Sanji had set up his station on your other side, leaving you sandwiched between the young idiots. 

The three of you said few words between you as you each worked on your individual projects. Since you only had two scissors and one razor, you were done first. You quietly packed up your belongings and left the two of them to continue working. They spoke a few words here and there about the whetstones but otherwise were concentrating on their own work. Maybe you were a genius at love, you congratulated yourself…before hearing Zoro and Sanji erupt into an argument about who had the better estimation of a fifteen degree angle. Ah well, you’d try again later…

So now your sharp scissors were ready to give a shave and cut to one Whitebeard, Captain of the Whitebeard Pirates. Everyone who was fighting had left for the island, though they were waiting for some kind of signal to begin the fight. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but you had work to do before you could relax and have fun. Some things didn’t change from one world to the next. Though technically, you didn’t really have to work, you would feel bad if the Whitebeard Pirates helped the Strawhats and you contributed nothing. Besides, you were getting some good trades out of the Whitebeards. 

You hadn’t tried to find out much information about Whitebeard from the crew, you figured you’d get the story from him personally. Besides, you kind of got the gist already. Giant, powerful, aging GILF Captain, powerful DILF crew, Ace’s dad maybe, something like that. He kind of reminded you of a giant Boomer in the way he carried himself. If you didn’t know any better you’d ask him for his loyalty reward card to the local hardware store.

“So what’re we doing today?” you asked the Captain, eyeing his head and face. “Would you like a shave?” you guessed, looking over his impressive mustache. He was wearing a headwrap with nothing peeking out from underneath, so you guessed there wasn’t much there. It seemed that much like in your world, men in this one were just as sensitive about hair loss.

“Shave would be good,” the Captain boomed, tugging on his mustache speculatively. “You any good with a straight razor, girlie?” he asked. You held yourself back from rolling your eyes – you were a guest on his ship and needed to be nice. And really, he wouldn’t be the first boomer to doubt you. Thankfully, the ship had plenty of strops and shaving supplies already on board so all you needed to use from your own kit was your straight razor.

“You any good at sailing the seas?” you quipped back, already rummaging through the pocket you’d been given by Blamenco in trade for a cut earlier that morning. You really, really liked the pocket. In fact, it might be your favorite thing about the One Piece world. At first you had been hesitant because what on earth did a “never ending pocket” actually mean? But as soon as he showed you that it could carry your entire kit without weighing anything and be completely portable, you were sold. You’d given him a giant hug as well as a shave in addition to the cut. 

“GURARARARA. Some say so, Lass,” Whitebeard replied amicably. You smiled, getting everything out that you would need. It wasn’t more difficult to work on Whitebeard, it was just…more. You were actually more nervous to work on Izou, the Commander’s lovely hair clearly a source of pride, but you wouldn’t have to deal with that until tomorrow.

“I’m gonna need you to lean back in your chair. Er, wait. Maybe lay on the deck?” you asked, looking at his throne-like chair on the deck. How else were you gonna reach his whole face? The other men hadn’t been quite as tall as Whitebeard, so they’d just sat on the deck and leaned down so you could work on them. 

“You can stand on my hand –” Whitebeard suggested, scratching his head.

“Fuck no –” you mumbled, trying to think of a way out of this. One giant hand was enough, you weren’t going for two giant hand experiences. 

“I can take off the mustache if it’s easier for ya,” Whitebeard said, tugging on the end a bit. You laughed as you circled him, already thinking about what you needed to get the job done.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you said, tilting your head to think about other viable options. You didn’t really see a way out of it, he was gonna have to lay on the deck.

“That’s not a joke. He can do it,” Marco called out as he walked across the deck, his lower half shifted into talons. Kind of a cool party trick, you thought. Maybe the fighting was going to start soon and you’d get to see Marco fly. But then your brow furrowed as you actually thought about what Marco had just said.

“Wh- you’re shitting me,” you said, taking a step back to look at Whitebeard. He seemed like he had a normal face, what did that mean he could detach his mustache? Was that some kind of devil fruit thing?

“No. Watch and learn, brat,” Whitebeard said, reaching for the end of his mustache. “STEPHAN! FETCH!” Whitebeard yelled, before ripping off his mustache and chucking it across the deck. A gigantic white, fluffy dog bounded across the deck, catching it in his mouth. As he brought it back, you saw that the dog had a matching mustache. OK, now this dog was actually your favorite thing in the whole One Piece world, the pocket already in second place. He bounded up to the two of you, bringing the mustache back to Whitebeard. 

“DROP IT!” Whitebeard boomed, grabbing the mustache. Stephan played tug of war for a moment before dropping it, losing interest as Thatch walked by carrying a tray of steaming scrambled eggs. The dog tailed it after the chef, his tail wagging happily. Your hand reached out to pat Stephan, but he was long gone. 

“Actually what was that –”

“So between that and the lack of hair on my head, I should be quick for ya,” Whitebeard said with an impish smile. Your mental file of “things that don’t make sense here” was filling quickly, but you weren’t going to worry about it. Your eyes flicked to the bandana on his head. Did they have cancer in One Piece? Why wouldn’t they? You thought. But then again, there were so many things you had no context for in this world it wasn’t crazy to assume there was no cancer here.

“You’re gonna have to lay on the deck, sorry. I can’t really do much about your height and I don’t wanna be picked up,” you said, rubbing your chin. You were expecting pushback since Whitebeard was the captain, but he merely shrugged. Some kind of gunshot went off in the background, along with some roaring. Apparently the fight had started, but you’d have to watch it later.

“‘S alright with me, brat –”

“Stop calling me that –” you muttered. You weren’t a brat, and hadn’t been one in a very long time. You were middle-aged for gods sake!

“I’ve spent plenty of time on the deck,” he said, moving slowly to sit down on the massive deck. You gave him space but didn’t miss the way that all the working men on the deck stopped what they were doing to watch their Captain position himself on the ground. No one said anything, but the worry was plain on their faces as Whitebeard successfully made it to the deck. 

“You wanna take off the bandana? I can give you a fresh shave there too if you’d like,” you offered, spreading a hot towel over his face.

“No need. It’s gone, been falling out for a while now. Medicine caused it,” he explained. Ah, so maybe it was cancer, you thought as you placed another towel over his face. 

“You’ll be alright, Pops. The medicine is helping,” Jozu said as he carried several barrels, his shiny arm twinkling and scattering rainbows across the deck. Now was not the time to ask about the diamond arm, you thought to yourself. 

“Tch. Everyone dies, son. Even me,” Whitebeard said, his face now partially obscured by a steaming towel you laid across it. You looked at him, some pity unfurling in your chest. Sure, you didn’t know him at all, maybe he killed thousands of people or something. But he seemed nice enough and he definitely had a lot of people who loved him. No matter the circumstance, it was difficult to watch a loved one suffer long term illnesses. The tension on the deck made you fidget as you placed another hot towel on Whitebeard’s face. You started foaming the lather for his face, the working crew still watching their Captain.

So you did what you always did when you were uncomfortable.

Said something stupid.

“Gonna make a big ass skeleton,” you said, preparing the lather. The deck went completely silent, all the chatter of the crew suddenly stopping with your words. The only sound you could hear was the cawing of the sea birds near the ship.

“What did you say?” Jozu asked quietly. You slowed down your mixing, as you looked up in dawning horror. This was no slip up at work where you told some client that her perfume had expired or something like that.

“I – uh,” you stammered, unsure what to reply. 

“GURARARARARARARARARA,” Whitebeard laughed, his chest shaking with mirth. Thank FUCK, you thought. You let out a breath and a smile as the rest of the crew relaxed, some laughing too. You removed the towels from his face and began to apply the shaving cream.

“No one’s had the balls to talk about it to my face,” he said, his eyes closed. 

“No one else is dumb enough,” you replied, finishing the lather. “If it makes you feel better, I’m dying too,” you added.

“Aye. No way around it,” he said, nodding his head. In some way, it felt a little nice with someone validating your thoughts. Sure, you’d said it a bunch of times, but you were always met with concern or frowns. At least Whitebeard was honest.

“Now, Whitebeard, hold still and stop talking otherwise I’ll end up slicing ya,” you said, pulling a small section of his skin tight.

“Call me Pops, brat,” he said amicably before closing his eyes. 

“Whoa, you’re letting her call you Pops? No Reader has ever had the privilege before,” Thatch said, sidling up to you with a large plate of eggs and your first latte of the day. You finished the stroke you were on and cleaned off your blade.

“Never liked any of the Readers before. Snot nosed brats always think they know anything about piracy when they can’t even make a bowline knot,” Whitebeard murmured as you continued.

“Thank you, Thatch,” you said, giving a quick glance at the eggs. He smiled and leaned back against the railing, clearly ready to chat and linger. No way, you wanted to work as diligently as you could so that you could watch the fight. Not only that, it was always more annoying to work with someone watching your every move.

“Begone. I have to concentrate,” you said, dismissing Thatch with a wave of your hand. But he wasn’t an underling, so he ignored you.

“Nah. I wanna hang out with you and Pops. Besides, I was gonna ask – when we get new Readers, we usually put on a show at night. You guys have new music and well, it gets boring here. We’ve got a band, and we can learn almost any song or style if you wanna teach us something for tonight,” Thatch offered, his crooked grin widening. 

“Oh, you’re gonna play when the fight stops?” you asked. 

“No, they’ll fight for a few days I’m guessing,” Thatch speculated, tugging on his goatee. 

“A few days?!” you exclaimed. How was that even possible?

“Yeah. I’m thinking probably three. It’s a lot of players, but they’re all relatively inexperienced. So probably three. I mean, anyone who wants to can stop for the night, but their pride is on the line. They’re not going to,” Thatch explained. Now you were really glad you’d never arm wrestled Usopp to be able to fight in their crew.

“No more Mitski,” Pops grumbled. Thatch laughed, his scar winking in the morning sun. He looked like something out of a rancher fantasy, like a bad boy who could be good for a night…goddammit why was everyone on the ship so hot? But thinking about hot men only had your mind wandering to thoughts about Jinbei. You really wanted to see him fighting. He had mentioned that he was proficient in Fishman karate, and you wanted to see what that entailed. Ace had said Jinbei was incredibly powerful, and everyone had agreed…

“So what about it? And yeah, no more Mitski. Pops doesn’t like it. Says it’s too whiny,” Thatch said, bringing your thoughts back to the present. 

“Oh, uh. Sure. I can think of something,” you said, nearly done with Pops’ face. You thought through different songs he would like. Whitebeard was a boomer, a rough and tumble, an outlaw…what would he like? A smile broke out on your face as you figured out the perfect song.

“Yeah, I got something for y’all,” you said, already thinking about a roster of songs for the guys. Hopefully the previous hadn’t used any of your selections, you wanted these guys to love what you were gonna sing for them. You thought about your set while you finished Whitebeard’s shave, his giant face less of a pain than you’d been expecting. 

“You’re all set,” you said, wiping your hands on a towel.

“Feels alright,” Whitebeard said, rubbing his cheek as he sat up. Whitebeard put his hands on his knees in preparation to stand. Thatch was now in front of you, extending his hand to Pops to help him up. 

“I don’t need help standing up, whelp,” Pops said, batting away Thatch. He slowly rose to his knees, but eventually got himself back on the chair. 

“Take a look,” you said, handing Pops a mirror when he was finally back in his seat. Pops took the mirror and admired his fresh shave. You’d done pretty well for being on a large rocking boat, you thought. Whitebeard handed you back the mirror and smiled at you.

“You did a good job,” Pops said, giving you a pat on the back with his giant, warm hand. You blinked rapidly unsure what to say in return. You had been expecting a thank you but the praise combined with a pat was a heady feeling. No wonder these men loved their dad. You’d take being called a brat if it meant someone finally told you that you’d done something well. Hell, you’d probably go fight on that island if he told you he’d pat your head and thank you afterwards. 

“Thanks, Pops,” you said, giving him a smile before taking a sip of your latte.

“Ooh, it’s good. Thank you, Thatch. You got the cinnamon just right,” you said before taking another drink. 

“C’mon, let’s go talk to the guys in the band. It’s better if we have time to practice before the show tonight,” explained as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You raised your eyebrow and pushed it off with your index finger. 

“Can’t blame me for trying my luck,” he said, putting his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t hold it against him. And really, what was so wrong about having handsome and helpful men show interest in you? Thatch led you across the deck, passing in view of the island where the fighting was.

You looked out at the island, focusing on what was happening there for the first time. Stopping in front of the railing, you watched with your mouth hanging open. Never in your wildest fantasies could you have imagined anything like this.

It was complete mayhem and you were honestly shocked no one had died yet. Right now, Luffy was going up against Law and Kid. Kid somehow had made a giant metal gun, Law had his weird blue bubbles and his sword, and they were both being repelled by Luffy. Luffy! The same kid you had to convince to wash his hands after blowing his nose! And Luffy appeared to be holding his own against the two larger men. Right now he looked like he was charging up for something, kind of like those Goku memes you’d seen a few times. 

“TALK TO THE …..HAAAAAAAND!” Luffy yelled as he attacked with a giant palm strike. Oh, so Ace had used that phrase on him. Law and Kid dodged at the last minute, readying attacks of their own.

But before you could see what else he was going to do, your attention shifted elsewhere. Zoro was fighting Killer, who had some kind of swinging machetes. Zoro had his third sword in his mouth, which was…not what you expected. You had always thought he kept a backup or something! But apparently his jaw was strong enough to wield it like that. Maybe the skill was transferable, you thought, as he barked something at Sanji.

Robin was fighting Yamato, her limbs much more versatile in battle than you’d imagined. Robin was completely concentrating on Yamato – who had grown a billowing white tail? And was that Chopper? The giant beefy reindeer? He was fighting Penguin and Shachi, while Franky duked it out with a tall guy from the Kid pirates with fishnets, spikes on his head, and a trident. A purple haired guy (who really had the perfect shade of periwinkle hair, the girls would have gone crazy for him) was blowing fire at Brook. The musically oriented skeleton had whipped out a sword to parry the flames. Was there always a sword in that cane?

And holy fuck what was happening with Ace and Jinbei? They were both grinning as they fought, clearly enjoying themselves. You couldn’t tear yourself away, watching as Jinbei drew water in a circle around him before launching it at Ace. Ace dodged and sent a fiery cannonball attack back at Jinbei, who deflected it easily by punching the air and sending Ace flying backwards. 

“Oh yeah. Jinbei and Ace. They’ve fought each other before, actually. Ended in a draw after about five days,” Thatch said, looking out where you were gazing. “Well, they say it was a draw. I think Jinbei could have won if he used more underhanded tactics. But he won’t, that’s not his wya,” Thatch said as Ace evaded a hit that shattered the ground below him. Nearby, Law had somehow used electrical energy to stun Kid and crack the earth, though it was ineffective against Luffy’s rubbery body. A plume of black smoke rose as something exploded on the other side of the island. 

“Are they gonna blow up the island?” you wondered out loud as Ace landed a fiery kick on Jinbei. You winced but as Ace bounced back, you saw that Jinbei’s arms were black and he didn’t seem to take any damage. Jinbei’s aura seemed to be crackling around him, his fierce gaze trained on Ace alone. This was far from the calm, collected, well spoken Fishman you had come to know. Even so, watching him brought you a certain…thrill.

“Maybe, not sure. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. I would worry about getting booed off the stage tonight,” Thatch said, giving you a pointed look. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get going inna minute. Let me watch a bit, I was working this morning,” you humphed. You leaned forward as Jinbei took a cool stance. Maybe he was going to make a kamehameha or something. Did they have those here?

“You liking the fight?” Thatch asked, leaning on the railing next to you.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” you said truthfully as Ace launched himself into the air. Jinbei dove for a nearby pool of water and started hurling water spears at Ace. What in the hell…?

“Oh you’re liking it alright. You lean any further over the railing and you’re going overboard. There’s no shame in it, I got a radar for Battle Bunnies,” Thatch said. You finally broke eye contact from watching Jinbei to give Thatch a scowl.

“Excuse me?” you asked, pursing your lips. 

“You know…chicks who get their thrills from watching their men fight. ‘S really common, we see it all the time. The best part is that after the fight ends, the real marathon starts. Some guys call it pirate puss –” You made a fake vomiting noise to stop his speech. 

“Shut. Up. Or I’m gonna cut your hair crooked,” you said without any malice. Thatch put his hand on his chest and let out an exaggerated gasp.

“I’m just trying to teach you about our world, is that so wrong?” he asked in mock offence.

“Go say your nasty thoughts to someone else, I don’t wanna hear it.” Thatch laughed and pushed off the railing to begin walking.

However, St. Charlos quickly tired of your novelty and soon ceased to find you interesting for his personal pleasure. He still enjoyed showing you off to his friends, but soon delighted in sharing you around his cadre of World Nobles. Not for free, of course. No, he accepted various presents and trades for the ability to spend time with you. Nymphs were rare, after all, seldom seen by humans much less captured. 

Not only had your wings been kept tightly bound in their shut position, but the nobles he shared you with would sometimes pluck your feathers, making you wince in pain. Your popularity among the World Nobles rose even as you became increasingly injured and sick.A few of the nobles suggested having your wings removed entirely and mounted on their walls, but St. Charlos had sold you to St. Shamrock before that was actualized. You weren’t sure what prompted the sale, but you didn’t dare to think that what was coming was any better than what had been. 

You cringed in your tiny cell, your head ducked defensively behind your arms as you waited for St. Shamrock’s punishment.

Nothing happened. 

You cracked open an eye to see Saint Shamrock still squatting in front of you. He looked different from the painting in St. Charlos’ drawing room. His hair was shorter, he was wearing strange clothes from the Lower World, and he had a scar you didn’t recognize. He also appeared to be missing an arm, but there was no mistaking that face or his flame red hair. You had been sold to St. Shamrock at his personal request, so you’d committed his countenance to memory in order to make the fewest mistakes.

You quickly averted your eyes, fully aware that you weren’t supposed to be looking at him. A warm hand touched the top of your head and you flinched, waiting for the fist to curl and your hair to be grabbed. But the hand only lingered for a moment before moving back beyond the bars of the cell. 

What? What kind of game was this? 

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, a bead of sweat rolling down your back. You didn’t know what to do, you’d never played this particular game. And when you didn’t know what to do, it always ended badly for you. So you needed to figure out what to do – and fast.

Taking a gamble, you opened your eyes to fully look at your surroundings once more. The hold of the ship was familiar to you, you had been in the cargo hold of a ship for a few weeks along with other slaves. They had all been bound together with a length of chain, shackles at their hands and feet. But you were kept separated from them in a small cage that wasn’t even large enough for you to stretch out completely at night. 

At first your heart held a shred of hope that wherever you were going was better than where you’d been. But realistically, you knew it wasn’t so. The ship was bound for Marie Geoise, and the mood below deck was grim. The crew didn’t have to quell any chatter or rebellion, everyone was biding their time silently. Someone came in daily to feed the slaves, tossing their food at them and setting a plate down in your cell. No matter who it was, they always leered at you. A few hands had reached in, but no one had made contact with you since you were meant for St. Shamrock.

Everything on the ship had been fairly uneventful - you were served one meal a day as the ship rocked back and forth on the stormy seas. You yearned to be in the air, pushing and pulling with the winds, but all you could do was wait. It felt like waiting for your own execution, and perhaps the feeling was not far removed from your future. Only time would tell. So you and the slaves lived quietly in the putrescent hold, like barely sentient cargo.

Until today, when you heard the sounds of a scuffle on the deck. Some slaves pushed to look out the tiny porthole and said they saw another ship, one with a dragon for a figurehead. Even so you receded further into the darkness of your cell and mind, waiting for fate to take its course. What did you care about another ship? The outcome for you would be the same.

After the fighting sounds stopped, the hatch to the hold was flung open, the door slamming against the deck with a bang. Someone announced that you were all to be freed, that you were no longer slaves. The humans looked at one another, unsure what was happening. But sure enough, people were led out of the hold by various humans. Some slaves seemed happy to see them, but you didn’t recognize them more than anyone else. Your ears perked up as you heard the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from the deck, something you hadn’t heard in many months.

Finally, you had hope. A real, true shred of hope. Maybe everything would be ok. Maybe you wouldn’t have to play any more games or attend any more parties. Maybe you wouldn’t die at the hands of a Celestial Dragon or a World Noble. Maybe you could go back home and – your heart stopped the moment Saint Shamrock appeared in the front of the hold. You didn’t see the sneer that was so common on the faces of the nobles, but you weren’t wrong, this was definitely St. Shamrock. 

Oh. 

This was 

a game.

You

Were 

still playing 

Their games.

You weren’t actually being freed. This was an elaborate setup. It wasn’t completely unheard of, the nobles had unlimited time and money on their hands. Maybe this is what they preferred, a more immersive experience. Maybe Saint Shamrock was playing a role and you needed to act your part as well. So this was more of the same, and the same would be expected of you.

You licked your lips – surely he was the one you had to please? Sometimes they changed who you were serving but St. Shamrock was the highest ranking person on the ship. So it had to be him, right? Your hands shook as you kneeled, your hands already gripping the hem of your filthy frock.

“Never heard of a St. Shamrock,” a pirate with dreadlocks commented. You braced for the killing that would surely come to whoever said that. No one ever, ever contradicted or interrupted a Celestial Dragon. But again, nothing came. It only made your shoulders bunch tighter. The unexpected always yielded poor results for you.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Can you get me a cup of water and find the key to this cage,” the man in front of you said softly. Your eyes remained trained downward as you sat back on your heels. He had… requested something? Not demanded like a tyrant? This was the most confusing setup you ever had, but there was only going to be one outcome. Taking a shaky breath, you started the process that would surely be coming shortly.

You began untying the strings of your dress, aware that St. Shamrock would not want you clothed. You didn’t know where they got their information about nymphs, but it was almost completely incorrect. World Nobles believed you to be a sex glutton, your only desire in life to seduce men and have orgies with them. They thought you could heal their wounds, that you were able to turn into a tree, that you and your sisters frolicked about in streams, giggling about nothing. None of that was true, except that you did enjoy spending time with your sisters. 

The few things that they’d gotten right was that your lifespan was longer than theirs and that you couldn’t access your full powers with your wings bound. It was unclear if they knew you had the ability to manipulate the wind or if they just didn’t want you flying away, but they kept your wings tied shut either way. Someone had taken your blood several times but you weren’t sure why. St. Shamrock likely expected you to be completely sex crazed, so you’d play the part he wanted. You had only undone two ties to the sides of your dress before St. Shamrock stopped you.

“Whoa, don’t – don’t untie that. Leave your dress on,” St. Shamrock said softly, like he was gentling an animal. You didn’t understand, but you also weren’t going to disobey him right now. Too many injuries showed you what happened when you disobeyed.

“Take this. Drink,” the man said, passing you the cup his crew mate had brought him. You looked at it for only a moment, hoping it wasn’t drugged. You would still have to drink it even if it was, but you hated every time you were sedated.

“It’s just water,” St. Shamrock assured you in a low tone. You gulped it down greedily, savoring the fresh, cold water. After you were finished, you handed him back the cup, your fingertips accidentally grazing his own. He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes creasing. You blinked – no human had ever smiled at you before. Not like that, with no hint of malice or cruelty. You’d never spent time with humans prior to your capture, and what you’d seen of them didn’t make you want to continue the experience. St. Shamrock sat down outside your cage cross-legged, like he had done this a thousand times over. 

“Do you know where you are? Who I am?” Saint Shamrock asked. You nodded quickly, wanting to answer all his questions well.

“You are my n-new Master, St. Shamrock. I was a-awaiting your arrival,” you whispered, barely able to choke out the words he likely wanted to hear. Your voice was cracking due to the weeks of disuse, but you persevered. St. Shamrock shook his head, a shred of sunlight winking across his facial scars.

“I am not Shamrock and I am not your new Master. You are free,” he said to you, his hand reaching towards your face. You flinched but quickly opened your eyes, your Masters didn’t like when you flinched. 

“I am Red Haired Shanks, Emperor of the Sea, Captain of the Red Haired Pirates,” he said, pushing back his black cloak. The action highlighted that he was missing his left arm, unlike the portrait you’d seen of St. Shamrock. You blinked a few times, assimilating the information into your mind. Your brows hitched in confusion – you wished he would tell you what he wanted from you. 

You looked at his face again, cocking your own slightly to the side. His smile returned, feeling like the rays of the sun skittering across your skin. Something unfurled in your heart, something that you needed to tamp down lest it hurt you in the future. There was no comfort to be had from humans, not even ones who smiled at you kindly. He was your new master, regardless of whatever lies he said.

“So, what are you?”

Shanks POV

Shanks was a decisive man by nature. He often came to a rapid conclusion in his mind and seldom deviated from it. His quick choices had served him well in the past, during both fighting and peacetime. He’d trained his gut instincts during his time on the Oro, and honed them to perfection over his many years of pirating.

And yet Shanks had no idea what to do with you.

"Please, Saint Shamrock! I'm sorry I'll behave I promise I won't-" Shanks took a step back, as if burned by your words. Your instinct to protect yourself upon his arrival had shocked him. He was one of the strongest people in the world and yet your simple words injured him more than losing his arm had. 

You think he’s one of them? That he’s like his brother? Or perhaps that he is his brother…

It wasn’t your fault, and Shanks wasn’t upset at you for the outburst. Even now you were wringing your hands and staring steadfastly at the floor, as if awaiting corporal punishment. You were in a pitiful state, your skin sallow and ashy, mottled with bruises and dried blood. 

So Shanks sat down on the floor of the cargo hold in front of you, wracking his brain on what he should do. Usually, when they caught ships slaving through his territory, they killed the crew and set the slaves free. Gave them some supplies if needed, sometimes some money, maybe gave them a log pose if it had broken during the takeover. Catch and release. Easy, helped people, kept Roger’s legacy alive, ruined the finances of slavers, showed the strength of his territory – it was a win all around. 

Except.

No one had ever named his twin brother before, much less thought he was the same person. You were obviously not faring well, certainly worse than the other slaves. Anyone could see you weren’t in good health – your skin sickly and with bruises poking out from under your thin dress. You hadn’t celebrated with the rest of the freed slaves, instead huddling further into yourself. Maybe you’d been held in captivity longer, or had a worse experience. Anything was possible with Nobles.

Yasopp brought him the recovered key to the cage along with the water. Shanks thanked him briefly and turned his attention back to you.

But how had you known about Shamrock? Shanks frowned as he thought about how to help you, absently scratching his goatee. Your eyes widened even further, your chest rising and falling even faster. Shanks immediately relaxed even further, trying to put you at ease. Clearly, his displeasure was causing you distress, so he affected an air of comfortability. 

After you revealed that you were a nymph – and not just any nymph, but an air nymph – Shanks didn’t know what you would need in order to recuperate. Of all the things Shanks had expected to find on a shitty Celestial Dragon merchant ship, an Aurai wasn’t one of them. Shanks had never even heard of Aurai before now. Shanks noticed your beautiful wings, bound painfully behind you. Based on how they cut into your body, he had no doubt they were exceedingly painful. One more thing to learn about, he supposed.

He’d heard of nymphs, of course, but hadn’t met a single one during his voyages on the seas. They were notoriously difficult to find, much less catch. Roger said he had seen a group of mountain nymphs bathing once but they had run away before he could talk to them. 

“How can I help you? Do you need something from me?” Shanks asked softly. The door to your cage had been opened but you’d made no move to exit. You’d been trained not to try to escape, and Shanks was certain the methods were inhumane. He didn’t see the branding, but that didn’t mean much.

“N-no, p-please. I’ll - I’ll start, Master-” you stuttered, starting to crawl towards him. Shanks looked at you in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing as you made your way to him. What in the world…

“Wh-what? No, don’t do that-” You had crawled towards him, your nimble fingers already halfway done with unbuckling his belt before he could stop you. With his mild reproach, your face drained of blood. You wrung your hands together, tears filling your eyes. 

“I - I want to play, Master. Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just please don’t hurt me,” you begged. What had they done to you? Shanks was more worried than ever that your mind was broken. He couldn’t send you to the next island in good conscience. Unlike the other slaves they’d already freed, you clearly hadn’t been used as a laborer but as a pleasure slave. Shanks shuddered to think of what that entailed, but the damage was clearly severe. 

“Why don’t we go up to the deck?” Shanks suggested. He was going to take you off this ship, that was certain, but he’d have to do so in small steps. “Would you like that?” Your eyes flicked warily to him, as if you were unsure what the right answer would be.

“I’m not your master, you get to decide,” he said easily, resting his chin in his palm. Shanks kept his posture relaxed, like he would be fine with whatever you said. Really, being in the slave hold made his skin crawl, but he’d stick around here until you were ready to go. After another moment, you gave a minute nod, but Shanks really wanted you to regain your voice.

“Alright, let’s hit it,” he said encouragingly, giving you a smile. Shanks winced at his own poor choice of words, but at least you didn’t seem to notice. You nodded again, your face still void of positive emotion. He stood up slowly, still slouching a little to make you feel at ease. After watching him carefully, you repeated his action, standing up as far as you could and hobbling out of the cell. Shanks padded over to the ladder out of the hold, stopping as he approached the exit.

“Can you climb the ladder? Are you strong enough? I don’t mean to be rude, but if you need help going out, I can –” you averted your eyes as Shanks spoke, shaking your head vigorously. You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited, making yourself smaller as you studied the floor. 

The ship bobbed in the waves, making you take a half step towards him to stabilize yourself. You were now closer than you’d ever been to him, your mere presence alluring. Without thinking, Shanks reached out to touch your soft, downy wing, before retracting his hand immediately. He’d have to curb his own impulses and wait until you were ready, if ever, to be touched by a human. He steeled his resolve to help you, to heal you and get you back to wherever you were from. 

“No - well, yes. That’s a little too – he’s like my father. It would be weird for me – but, then again it might be hot – er, wait, no. Not that. Sunny, did you mean it when you said that you love me?” Sabo asked, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. You picked your head off his chest and gave him a frown.

“Of course I meant it,” you replied. “Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

“You were pretty out of it. You couldn’t tell what was real and what was a hallucination. And I know that you said it again after you knew I was real but…” Sabo began to explain before you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“That wouldn’t change how I feel. I said it to Dream Sabo all the time. I meant it just as much as I do now,” you scoffed and laid your head back down on his chest.

“Say it again,” Sabo prompted softly, his flesh hand winding into the hair on your nape. It wasn’t a command, his words more like a plea. You cracked open your eyes again and looked up at him through your lashes.

“I love you, Sabo,” you said dreamily, splaying your hand across his chiseled chest. Sabo shifted you in his arms, tugging you up higher so your face was next to his own.

“I love you too, Sunny. I never thought I’d get to hear you say it,” he replied with a small smile, leaning in to kiss you again. Your arms wound around him loosely before kissing his back, your fingers loosely gripping his skin. It was less sexy that they were all still bandaged, but you would take what you could get.

“I love you, Real Sabo. And I’ll say it as many times as I have to,” you replied dreamily, setting your head back down. 

“Stop calling me Real Sabo. I’m the only Sabo there is,” Sabo said a bit petulantly. You laughed a bit before closing your eyes again. All that was left was to fall asleep, enjoy each other once more when you woke up, before you went off to your lab to work. Now that Sabo was back you would be able to handle things a lot more easily. Sabo would help you and everything would be better, like it was before.

“But, Sunny, I want to talk to you about something else. You can’t work yourself to death anymore. Not even if something were to happen to me,” Sabo said, his nails dragging up and down your bare back. You groaned, you didn’t want to have this discussion right now. You rolled off Sabo and on to your back, rubbing your forehead with the heel of your palm.

“Sabo, I love you –”

“I love you too –” Sabo replied easily, turning on his side to face you. Despite having heard it before, your face heated. How was it still so easy for Sabo to rile you up?  You shook your head a little, you needed to focus on what was important. Despite everything that had happened, your resolve to help fix what the World Government had done was unmovable. 

“Right, but what I’m saying is – I love you, but there’s things I have to get done. Things that are bigger than you or me, or anything else. The World Government, their weapon – this is a turning point in history, Sabo. Now that Vegapunk isn’t around, I need to fix things. For everyone. This is exactly like when I was in the Marines and I unknowingly contributed to the SMILE program –”

“This isn’t like that at all –”

“Yes it is,” you said, sitting up in exasperation. “How aren't you seeing that this is my responsibility? That I need to fix everything – that the Mother Flame can be used to power the weapons and that the only other people – I mean, Vegapunk is dead now so it might just be one person – well, on our side – actually, I’m not really too sure he’s dead. I know they killed his body, but he’s too smart for such a vulnerability. He would have – but in any event, I can’t stop  working, Sabo. I can’t.” Your mind was spinning as you tried to have Sabo understand the magnitude of what you had uncovered in your research. 

“Sunny, stop –” Sabo said, cupping your cheek with his hand. You pulled away – this wasn’t the time for him to coddle you. 

“No, Sabo. This is important,” you stressed, looking at his good eye with your own. Sabo tilted his head, as if considering your point for the first time. It almost reminded you of when you had first discovered what your research in the Marines was being used for, and how no one would tell you that the consequences were your fault. Ace had chased you down the beach, but even his heart to heart hadn’t really dislodged the feeling that you had contributed to mass suffering in the world.

“I understand. I really do. It’s the same fire that fuels all of us here. But you’re not on your own anymore. You have me and everyone else who is fighting alongside you,” Sabo said. You forced a smile, which based on Sabo’s growing frown was not all that successful at deceiving him.

“Sunny, it’s true –” You sighed and grimaced, your face now matching your true feelings. You put your hands up began to gesticulate as you articulated your thoughts. You’d always done it, but it had really gone into overdrive once Sabo had left and you dismissed everyone.

“I mean, that’s nice of you to say. But I really don’t think – everyone was trying, I know that. And I was angry – er, mostly lashing out..which isn’t their fault, I know that. But they can’t – they don’t understand how to get to the innate workings – it’s really, really complicated, Sabo. This is the hardest project I’ve ever worked on. I don’t even know if I’m gonna be able to figure it out –”

“You don’t have to figure it out. No one is making you, like when you were in the Marines. We can defeat the World Government without the Mother Flame or ancient weapons, there’s more than one answer to the problem,” Sabo said softly. You sucked in a breath, trying to unscramble your brain before you tried again. Sabo understood and was listening, but he wasn’t really hearing you. 

“And you’re not alone. Like I said, you have me, Koala, Dragon, Ahiru, Kurasu, Iva, Mark, and everyone else here. We don’t need to understand what you’re doing in order to support you. But, you won’t be able to help anyone if you don’t take care of yourself. Look at you,” Sabo said softly, pulling the blanket down a little. Your fingers twitched with the need to pull it back up. It wasn’t that you were self conscious about your body, not exactly. Sabo knew what you looked like generally, but you weren’t exactly at your best right now.

“You’ve lost so much weight, your fingers are a mess, you haven’t been sleeping, you haven’t been drinking water…”

“Yeah, I know. You already said all that, I get it,” you said with a pout. You hadn’t noticed those things when they’d been happening but now that Sabo kept bringing it up, it was weighing on you. He’d gone after you before for the same behaviors, was he going to do something about it now? You closed your eyes and sighed, wishing you had handled things differently. “Don’t punish me or anything. I don’t think I can take it,” you murmured from behind your closed eyelids.

“I’m going to have to. You knew the rules,” Sabo said, stroking your cheek with a finger. With that, your eyes popped open as you thought of Sabo’s previous punishments. Maybe this time wouldn’t be so bad…maybe some more manhandling or more kissing…those didn’t sound too awful. You didn’t think that Sabo would put you in seastone again, you were fairly sure that was off the table. You licked your lips and looked at his frowning face, wiggling yourself closer to him to try to get a favorable outcome. A wave of exhaustion hit you as you laid there, you hoped you could do your punishment after you took a short nap. You brought your hand up to rub at your left eye, it was always itchy when you were nervous.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were able to enforce them anymore,” you said as Sabo stopped you from rubbing your eye. Goddamn it, that was an annoyance you’d forgotten about. Dream Sabo never stopped you from rubbing, you thought with a scowl.

“I told you I’d come back. Have more faith in me,” Sabo said with a wide grin. You sighed, there was no getting out of this it seemed. 

“Is it gonna be a sex thing? Because I could handle a little bit of –”

“No. You’re going to apologize to everyone for what you did when I was gone.” Your mouth dropped open at Sabo’s words.

Fuck.

“Wh- no. No, Sabo, come on. They know I’m sorry,” you pouted as Sabo held your hand. Now that Sabo had made his declaration that you would be saying sorry to everyone, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. The idea of having to say that many apologies to that many people was making you want to gag from the sheer amount of interaction alone. Besides, some of the things you could remember doing were rather…embarassing.

“No. You have to actually say it. It’s important to maintain good working relations among the ranks. You’re a senior officer –”

“I’m not an officer. No one reports to me anymore,” you whined as Sabo ignored you. God, you forgot about how obstinate he could be when he wanted to be. Maybe Dream Sabo could return and defend you from Real Sabo’s antics.

“We’ll remedy that too. But for right now, you’re still a notable figure. And you need to take accountability for your mistakes. It’s a lesson all leaders need to learn,” he concluded with a bright smile. 

“I’m not a leader –”

“You are. And this is your punishment. I think it’s fitting,” Sabo said, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Fine. I guess I can…apologize to everyone,” you grumbled, already thinking about the many, many unpleasant conversations you were about to have.

Sabo POV

“C’mon, It’s almost dinner time. We can go to the mess hall and start with whoever we see there,” Sabo urged gently, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You gave him a nervous look, your fingers balled into fists. Your shoulders were hiked to your ears as you nibbled on your lip, likely thinking about all the people who would need apologies.

It wasn’t completely a bad idea to start now either, Sabo thought. He wanted to get some food into you and dinner looked like it was going to be tasty. You had clearly deprived yourself of nutrients in his absence and you needed to eat. You had always eaten more when you were with Sabo, and he’d have to direct effort into ensuring that you regained the weight you had lost. Sabo had promised to take care of you and he took his responsibility seriously. He’d unintentionally caused you harm by nearly dying, and now he was going to work to remedy it. 

Sabo grinned at you as you nodded hesitantly, happy that he wouldn’t have to march you into the dining hall like a prisoner. He would if he had to, but it would look better if you did it of your own volition.

And it really was for the best that you apologized to everyone. He had meant what he said earlier – there were many people who you could depend on in the Revolutionary Army. Even with your escapades, it was clear that people respected you a great deal. And based on what Dragon had told him, you hadn’t truly harmed anyone. So a few apologies and everyone would feel better about you. People in the RA generally didn’t hold grudges, water under the bridge and all that.

You stopped in front of the doors to the dining room, rubbing your hands together to shore your resolve. A newer recruit was walking by, though she tried to sidestep and leave when she saw you and Sabo standing in front of the doors.

“No need to be shy. Come on over,” Sabo said with a bright smile, encouraging the nervous woman with a wave of his hand. Sabo had hired her himself before he left, she had an interesting devil fruit, though he couldn’t remember off the top of his head what it was. 

“H-hi,” the new recruit said, extending a few of her fingers upwards in an approximation of a greeting. You cocked your head and squinted, like you couldn’t place who she was.

“Hello. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m –”

“We have. Dragon sent me to you once, to try to get you to sleep. You, uh, shrank my head,” the woman said, trying to back away. Ah, that’s what it was. She was the owner of the sleep sleep fruit. You flushed furiously, your eyes flicking to Sabo before looking back at the young woman. Sabo inserted himself between you, ready to start remediating the situation. 

“And Sunny is –” Sabo began the process, but you quickly picked up the rest of it for him. 

“I - I’m sorry. I apologize for shrinking you –”

“Not all of me. Just my head,” the woman clarified, looking behind her nervously.

“That’s worse – uh, I’m sorry. You appear to be regularly shaped now, so I must have, uh, reversed it?” you asked, biting your lip as you took a step forward. The woman took a step back, her hands up defensively.

“It’s alright! Yes, you did reverse the situation. I, uh, accept! I definitely accept! And…I think I hear Morley calling for me,” she said quickly, pretending to strain her hearing. There was clearly no one calling for her but the woman slid inside the dining hall, away from you. You hung your head, sighing and rubbing your forehead.

“Well, at least it can’t get worse than that,” Sabo said lightly.

It did get worse than that. It seemed like you had fought half the RA in some way or another during his time away from you. You had won every “fight” to keep working alone in your lab. But it hadn’t won you any popularity awards, Sabo had to force people to interact with you. Even worse, you didn’t even remember everything that you’d done. It was honestly impressive, if not a little funny at times. 

But the effort of so much interaction was clearly weighing on you by the fifteenth or so apology. Sabo had gotten the two of you food and was sitting next to you, watching you push your noodles around your plate. Sabo reached out to rub your shoulder, feeling the large knots on your back caused by stress.

“It’s alright. We can do more later,” Sabo said, putting his hand over your own. Your movements stilled as you leaned into him. 

“Yeah. You were right about the apologies. I was worse than I remembered,” you said, rubbing your forehead against his shoulder. 

“We can go back to the dorms, I think you should go to sleep –”

“I need to call Ace,” you said with a yawn.

“He can wait until tomorrow. He’s probably sailing right now anyway, he wouldn’t pick up his den den,” Sabo lied easily. He wasn’t actually sure what Ace was up to right now, but you needed to go back to sleep now that you’d eaten a little bit.

“Where’s he going?” you asked, dropping your hands into your lap.

“You can find out tomorrow,” Sabo said, removing himself from the table. He extended his hand to you, helping you up from where you were seated.

“No. Today. I’m on a roll and I wanna get this worked out. It’s bothering me. He called me a few times, I don’t want him to worry,” you said, stifling another yawn. Sabo hummed as he picked you up, carrying you out of the dining hall. 

“I c’n walk,” you huffed, though Sabo noted you didn’t protest more than that. Either you were more inured to him carrying you than he thought, or you were really that tired. Regardless, you settled against him as easily as the last time. Sabo could get used to this, and based on how boneless you felt in his arms, so could you. 

Which was why shortly thereafter, you were sitting up next to Sabo in bed as Sabo called Ace. He’d contacted his brother after his arrival on the island, but Ace hadn’t been particularly surprised to hear that Sabo was alive. 

Puru puru puru   puru puru puru   puru puru puru

“BABO!” Ace-snail yelled out merrily, waving its little hands. Sabo smiled, it was always fun to call Ace when he was in a good mood. “Have you seen Sunny? I tried calling her but –”

“I’m here, Ace,” you said sheepishly, poking your head out from behind Sabo.

“Sunnifer! My sunniest sunshiney Sunflower!” Ace whooped, before shoving some kind of meat skewer into his mouth.

“I’m sorry for not returning your calls, Ace. You were probably worried –” you began, already back in apology mode. Ace waved you off, not caring in the least. 

“I was worried about you, yeah. Not Sabo, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ace said, talking with his mouth full of half chewed food. “But I called Dragon once and he said you were alive –” Sabo frowned, that was not enough. Ace had promised to look after you if anything had happened to him, and one call to Dragon didn’t cut it.

“And I knew Sabo would come back, so I wasn’t too concerned. I figured if I called enough times, you’d eventually answer,” he said with a shrug. Now it was your turn to frown.

“Wait, Ace, how many times did you call?” Sabo asked, putting his arm around your shoulders.

“Sixty six, I think? Something like that. Once every day or two,” Ace replied, the snail now looking down at something beyond the sight of the call. You flushed a bit and licked your lips. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was that many times,” you began to say, bringing a hand up to your mouth. Sabo intercepted it, bringing your hand to his face to kiss your poor little destroyed fingers. Maybe he could see if Marco was with Ace, and they could swing by the RA to heal you a little…

“Yeah, but like I said, I didn’t mind. Sabo was gonna find you eventually and everything would work out,” Ace said, the snail’s hands pushing on something.

“You knew because of the vivre cards, right? You know how I feel about those –”

“No, not the vivre card. That helped too, but this time it was ASL ESP. I could have told you the whole time he was gone that Sabo was fine,” Ace said, his attention focusing back on you to give you a wide grin.

“What.”

“ASL ESP,” Ace repeated, this time more slowly. “ESP is when you can –”

“I know what ESP is. It’s not real,” you protested, sitting up higher in the bed. Sabo smiled to himself, Ace really was good at baiting you. It wasn’t Ace’s intention right now, but no one could bring you out of a funk faster than Ace telling you some garbage to make you rage.

“It is so. Then how else would I know Sabo was ok?” Ace asked, his smile turning into a smirk. 

“Somehow you’ve found something even less scientifically viable than vivre papers,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Sabo couldn’t exactly explain it, but Ace did seem to have some preternatural way of knowing when his brothers were in trouble or needed help. Sabo didn’t need to bother you with that information, but there was something to Ace’s gut reactions.

“It works, though. That’s how I knew I had to get to Wano and I was right about that. Speaking of – ‘Bo, we gotta get to Elbaf. Lu is gonna need us both, I can feel it. I’m already getting Striker Plus One ready,” Ace said, turning serious for a moment. Sabo frowned, thinking for a moment. He had spoken with Robin a few weeks earlier, but he didn’t know the Strawhats had set sail for Elbaf.

“What’s Striker Plus One?” you asked, your head cocked to the side.

“I modified Striker and made it much bigger, with Deuce’s help. Now I can have Yamato, Izou, Deuce, and Marco on it at the same time. More people than that, but that’s who’s here now. It's actually a lot bigger, closer in size to the Spadille. It’s basically like having –”

“A crew again,” Sabo interrupted, giving his brother a soft smile. Ace scowled, pulling his hat down over his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Then why is it ‘Plus One’? Shouldn’t it be ‘Plus Five’? Or a whole different name?” you asked, tugging on your lip.

“Because Striker Plus Five sounds bad, duh,” Ace said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Captain gets to name the ship,” Sabo said in agreement, making Ace’s face flame once more.

“ ‘M not the Captain –”

“Yo, where do you want these extra ropes, Cap?” Deuce’s voice rang out.

“Under the hatch in the front of the ship,” Ace replied. “But that doesn’t mean anything! Deuce always called me that since we were in the Spade Pirates together!” Ace said with a finger raised.

“I think it’s great, Ace,” Sabo said, wishing he could hug his brother through the snail. “I’m glad you’re back with a crew. I think it’s good for you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just gonna pick up a few of the old guys before we head over to Elbaf. Lu prolly has about a month of sailing still, but I don’t wanna miss too much of the action. Something big is gonna go down, and I wanna be there for him when it does,” Ace declared, his attention back on Sabo. 

Sabo frowned – he wasn’t as good at ASL ESP as Ace, but he had felt the tuggings before as well. It was what had led him to Dressrosa to fight for the Mera Mera and to help Luffy with Fujitora. And a new feeling was unfurling in Sabo’s gut, just like Ace was saying. Ace was right, they had to meet Luffy in Elbaf. 

“Isn’t he much stronger than both of you? And doesn’t he have an Emperor’s crew? Do you really have to go?” you asked, picking at a loose string on your pants and worrying it between your fingers. Sabo covered your hand with his own, not wanting you to feel anxious about the upcoming event. 

“He’s insanely strong. And I think a literal god now?” Ace said, scratching his head. “But we’re his brothers, I’d do anything for him. And he helped me back in Marineford when I was ready to die. So I’m going to Elbaf. And Sabo should too,” Ace declared. Sabo looked over at your wan face and made a decision.

“Thanks, Ace. We’ll talk again soon,” Sabo said, already reaching to hang up.

“Don’t be a stranger, my Sunshine!” Ace said with a wave of his hand, the snail falling asleep seconds later as Sabo pushed on the button to end the call.

Your POV

Your heart sank as Ace had said he and Sabo had to go to Elbaf. By now you understood that the brothers had a profound bond and that nothing would come between them. You could be friends with Ace, and lovers with Sabo, but that would always pale in comparison to the relationship between them. 

And really, what were you expecting? For Sabo, the chief of staff of the Revolutionary Army, to stay with you on one island forever playing house? No, that wasn’t realistic. You had gotten your prayers answered by Sabo being alive, but there wasn’t a way to contain him for long. Sabo had his destiny to fulfill and you had work to do. Hopefully you got at least another day with Sabo before his departure, but you would understand if that wasn’t the case. 

You laid down in the bed, turning away from Sabo. It felt a little bratty, but that really wasn’t your intention. You weren’t trying to punish Sabo, you just needed a few minutes to yourself to recalibrate to the new situation. Sabo was going to leave again, you would continue working, and everything would be the same as before. It almost felt like when Ace left for Wano, but you had even less acclimation time than before. And you’d really try to keep yourself from falling in your old pitfalls like the last time. You didn’t want to become one more burden for Sabo to worry about while he was gone saving the world. 

“What are you thinking right now?” Sabo asked, laying down next to you and hauling your back against his chest. 

“How long do you think you have until you leave?” you asked, looking out the window. The moon was rising, giving you something pleasant to look at while your mind reeled.

“Hmm. I’ll contact Nami and see where they are. But based on what Ace was saying, I’ll probably want us to leave within a day or two,” Sabo answered, his fingers lightly stroking your thigh. You nodded, already making a list of everything you wanted to get done before Sabo left again. He’d said no to sex in Dragon’s office, but maybe you could drag him in there anyway…

“Sunny, did you hear me?” Sabo asked. You nodded again as a tear leaked out of the corner of your eye. 

“Yeah, you’re likely leaving tomorrow. I understand,” you said quietly, not wanting to make things harder than they had to be. You had heard this story a thousand times before when you were in the Marines – the painful separation of lovers, the yearning, the pining, the letters written and devoured in private. At the time you hadn’t really understood why people would want to make something like that work, but now it was you having the tearful goodbye.

“C’mere,” Sabo said, rolling you over to face him. You looked up at him with a watery smile, you didn’t want Sabo to feel guilty.

“It’s ok, I get it –”

“Sunny, I’m taking you with me. We’re going together,” Sabo asserted. Your brow furrowed with this news.

“But…but…you – Ace said that you need to go to Elbaf,” you protested.

“He did. And you’re coming with me.” Your breathing stopped as you blinked rapidly. 

“It’s not n-nice to tease me,” you said, rubbing away another tear. You sat up and rubbed your forehead. If he was joking right now, you would completely shatter. Sabo sat up and crossed his legs before pulling you into his lap.

“I’m not teasing. I don’t want to leave you again. And I think your powers will be useful in Elbaf. It’s the land of giants and you’re the expert in shrinking and magnifying–” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing – Sabo was going to bring you to Elbaf?

“But- I get seasick,” you said, your eyes looking into his own. It was the first question on the top of your mind and it burbled out before you could stop it. Sabo hummed as he thought.

“I know. It will be tough, especially now that you’re less healthy than I’d like. But we worked through it last time. I’ll bring more medication. And we’ll have to really keep on top of your hydration,” Sabo said, wrapping his arms around you. 

“And my work –”

“Take the lab. You can shrink it now, bring it with you. Maybe Robin or Franky will be able to help you –”

“B-but you said I’m not strong enough to come –” you replied, relaying a persistent fear you’d carried in your heart.

“Based on what I heard in the messhall, you’re a lot stronger than you used to be. And Ace and I will protect you. Luffy too. Not everyone needs to be a top fighter to be useful,” Sabo said, twirling your hair through his fingers.

“S-Sabo,” you said, more tears falling down your cheeks. This time they weren’t due to sadness, but overwhelming happiness.

“We’re going together. I need you –”

“Because I can’t take c-care of myself?” you asked, hiccuping through the tears that kept falling.

“No. Because I love you and can’t bear to be apart from you,” Sabo said, cupping your face. You laughed and sniffled before closing the distance and giving Sabo a long kiss. He pulled you closer, your legs now straddling his waist. You kissed Sabo with all the passion, love, and desire you could muster, chasing high after high with him. Sabo broke the kiss as you continued to kiss up and down his neck, taking his top hat off and tossing it on the floor across the room.

“And I hear their Owl Library has all of the knowledge salvaged from Ohara –”

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” you asked with a buoyant laugh. Sabo wiped the remaining tears from your face with his thumb before kissing you again.

“I’ll always be with you, Sunny. For as long as you’ll have me,” Sabo said reverently.

“Forever.”

And really, Nanami only had himself to blame for Gojo snooping on his little secret. Kento knew what Gojo was like. If Nanami really wanted to keep you off Gojo’s radar, he would have introduced you once in passing and Gojo would have let things go. Then Gojo’s curiosity would have been satisfied and he wouldn’t have thought any more about Nanami’s mystery wife. But as it was, Nanami seemed to want to keep you separate from his Jujutsu life. Or maybe just from Gojo. 

Which was how Gojo found himself watching you from outside Nanami’s city apartment. It hadn’t been completely intentional, not exactly. Nanami had blown Gojo off yet again, saying that he had plans to eat with you after he got off work. And this time, Gojo wasn't going to take no for an answer.

So he’d tailed Nanami from afar after school was out for the day, using his techniques to find out exactly who this woman was that held so much power over the reserved Nanami Kento. And even though Nanami wasn’t at Gojo’s level, he wasn’t a slouch either. Gojo concealed himself and his energy signature behind a veil and waited for Nanami to go home. It was annoying, to say the least, but it was finally time to rip the band-aid off and meet you.

All Gojo really wanted was to get one good look at you in order to understand what was happening here.  Gojo’s entire plan was to watch Nanami go into his apartment, then Gojo would come in through the balcony as a surprise. He would introduce himself, watch Nanami get annoyed, and leave. There wasn’t much more to it than that, a simple stop to figure out which woman had Nanami Kento wrapped around her finger. Maybe a drink if Nanami offered one, but Gojo didn’t think that was likely to happen given that Nanami didn’t seem to enjoy Gojo’s company generally. And clearly didn’t want Gojo around his wife.

And after seeing you for the first time, Gojo understood.

You were an absolute stunner.

And it wasn’t just about looks, though you certainly didn’t lack in that department. You were gorgeous and pretty, a real class act. Any man would want you by his side for your beauty, but it wasn’t only that. It was clear that there was something real between you and Nanami, more than simple affection. There was something rare and precious, something not even Gojo’s money could buy. 

It was love. 

You were waiting for Nanami as he came in from jujutsu high. Gojo watched as you practically threw yourself into his arms after he flung his briefcase aside so he could catch you. (The very same briefcase that Gojo had gotten an earful for touching, mind you). Nanami smiled, years easing off his face as he twirled you in a small circle. You squealed as he set you on your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. 

Gojo knew Nanami spent every night in his apartment rather than at the school, it couldn’t have been longer than a day since the two of you had last seen each other. And yet you were acting like you hadn’t seen him in years, like you were starving for him. Your relationship was evident in the way that you looked at Nanami like he was your everything, your entire world. The affection between you was so thick, Gojo could practically cut it with a knife. You held on to Nanami’s bicep like it was your lifeline, listening and laughing quietly as the two of you conversed in hushed tones.

At this point, Gojo should have left. Now he knew what you looked like, he understood why Nanami rushed home every single day, and the mystery was solved. Gojo’s curiosity was satisfied and he got the whole picture. He'd tease Nanami about you tomorrow and try and finagle an dinner for the three of you at an expensive restaurant one day. It should have been done there.

But.

After Nanami stopped spinning you, he kept his muscular arm around your back and pulled you to his chest. He leaned down and kissed you passionately, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. You tilted your head up towards him, moaning slightly as Nanami’s other hand wound itself into your hair and angled your head. Nanami kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, like he couldn’t survive another moment without you. One of your hands cupped Nanami's jaw, stroking his skin tenderly.

After a few moments like that, Nanami picked you up in one arm, which made you squeal in delight. Your feet dangled as he carried you towards the small island in the middle of the kitchen, you clearly felt safe with Nanami. He set you down and quickly began kissing you again, his hands planted on either side of your legs. You began to take off his tie, your smaller fingers working quickly to undo the buttons of his formal shirt. Nanami's shirt was soon open, and your fingers raked down his chiseled abs.

Gojo knew he was watching something intimate, something beyond private, but he couldn’t tear himself away. His dick was painfully hard against his pants, throbbing with every small movement and sound that you made together. Gojo palmed his aching cock over his clothes, not wanting to touch himself further despite the fact that no one could see him through the veil. It was enough for Gojo to know he was peeking, he didn’t need to make himself a complete pervert. As it was, Gojo could barely believe the passionate man in front of him was the same one who had yelled at Gojo earlier that day for being reckless and foolish. 

Nanami! Boring, stodgy, uptight Nanami! And here he was gently pushing you, his incredibly hot wife, backwards onto the kitchen island, caging you in with one arm. The skirt you were wearing was now pooled around your middle, leaving your divine legs on display. Nanami leaned over you, his blond hair falling in front of his face. Nanami said something in a low tone, making you laugh and wind your legs around his trim waist. You pushed the hair off his face and smiled up at him, pulling him down to kiss you once again. 

Now that your back was flat on the counter, Nanami’s hand ran up your exposed leg all the way to the apex of your thighs, before teasing your pussy over your panties with his long fingers. The damp spot in the middle of your panties told a story of its own. Nanami used his free hand to push up your shirt and tease your nipples over your lacy bra. You pulled him closer with your legs, planting open mouthed kisses on his neck and chest as Nanami’s fingers stroked you slowly. Your back arched as your eyes closed, your fingers scrabbling against his muscled back.

Gojo adjusted himself in his pants, much to his own embarrassment. He was Gojo Satoru, for fuck’s sake. He had slept with more women than he could ever count! He was powerful, and smart, and strong, and wealthy! Gojo could find a date within seconds if he so chose, he didn’t need to be watching Nanami hooking up with his wife. He was no random pervert, he was a grade S sorcerer, the sorcerer with the six eyes and infinity, the Strongest! 

And yet Gojo couldn’t look away as Nanami’s fingers slipped under the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs. Nanami gently removed them for you, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply before setting them aside. You whined, your need for your husband growing by the second. Your legs opened wide as your hands reached for Nanami’s belt...

But Nanami didn’t allow you to open it. Instead, he kissed you again, before pulling away and walking to the balcony window.

For a moment, Gojo thought that Nanami had spotted him. There was no way to explain what Gojo was doing outside Nanami's apartment. And Gojo would rather be sealed into a million prison realms than admit he was perving on Nanami getting it on with his hot wife. But instead Nanami grabbed the pole attached to the shades, pulling them halfway closed before looking out the window. Gojo let out a small breath, Nanami didn't suspect anything.

“Just closing the curtains, dearest," Nanami said clearly, his gaze piercing exactly where Gojo was hiding behind the veil. Gojo’s heart froze as Nanami smirked, shutting the shades completely.

“C’mon, Usagi,” Toji beckoned to you, curling his fingers into his palm. The gesture had a few drops of blood splattering on the floor. You got up and shuffled over to Toji, unsure if you could meet his gaze right now. Gojo – a high school student – was killed, and it was all your fault. 

“Someone’s gotta let her out. You, right? You’re S grade, yeah? So you can do it,” Toji demanded from Geto, who was rapidly paling. The other two younger students were looking at one another, the blond’s grasp on his sword tightening. You didn’t know what they were thinking but you hoped they wouldn’t try to fight Toji. If he’d defeated Gojo and Geto, none of the rest of them would stand a chance. But before Geto could respond, Shoko’s voice sounded out from outside the window.

“Geto, come here quickly!” Shoko’s panicked voice rang out. You weren’t sure what was happening but based on her tone, it was nothing good. 

“NOW!” Shoko screamed. With Shoko’s second yell, Geto bolted out of the room without care for his massive healing wound. The younger two students followed suit, running out the door. That left only you and Toji in the now quiet room. You didn’t really know what to say, what the appropriate words for someone who came to save you from being kidnapped. You licked your lips and settled on the simplest – there’d be time for more words later.

“Thank you, Toji,” you said, finally looking him in the face. He gave you an easy smirk that made your stomach flip. 

“No problem. Hadta get you back, yanno?” he replied, leaning against the doorframe. “C’mon, let’s get going. Gooms is with Shiu again and I think he’s gonna kill him if we don’t get back –”

“THROUGHOUT HEAVEN AND EARTH, I ALONE AM THE HONORED ONE,” you heard a voice yell from outside the room. Toji’s eyes narrowed as his smile fell. 

“C’mon. I’m not gonna leave you again,” Toji said, extending his calloused hand to you. Between that and his declaration that he needed to get you back, your heart was beating quickly. You were sure that it was only talk, just an easy way to express what he needed to. But even so, you didn’t think Naoya would ever say anything like that about you. If anything, he probably would have punished you for being kidnapped by Gojo. He still might if he found out what happened. You extended your smaller hand to Toji’s, but his fingers encircled your wrist instead of taking it in his own. 

“No time. Something’s happening. Gonna carry you,” he said, quickly pulling you close to him and picking you up bridal style. It all happened so quickly that you didn’t have a moment to consider how you felt before Toji was speeding through the buiding. It felt like you blinked once and you were by the gates of Jujutsu High, still held tightly in Toji’s arms. The students were all gathered and staring at the sky. Your gaze followed theirs and you saw a very alive, very strange looking Gojo. 

“Aw, what the fuck,” Toji gritted out, so quietly you were the only one who could hear him. Gojo landed on the ground a few meters in front of Toji, half his face still dripping blood. Toji’s arms tightened momentarily, cradling you further against his warm chest before loosening.

“Gotta deal with this. Some freaky shit is happening. Stay here,” Toji said, setting you gently on your feet. 

“Hey. It’s been a while,” Toji said, his smile maniacal. You shivered, this was not the Gojo you’d met before. Whatever had happened between him and Toji had caused some kind of irreparable change to Gojo. Toji was standing and staring at Gojo, as if caught completely unaware.

“For real?” Toji asked, his worm curling around his body. Toji moved in a slow circle away from you, leading Gojo in the opposite direction.

“I’m alive and kicking!” Gojo replied, pushing back his hair to show a healed wound on his head. You hadn’t seen Gojo without his glasses before, but now his blue eyes were open wide. His head was lolling from side to side, like he wasn’t in his right mind. 

“He’s high,” Geto interrupted from a few feet away. In the extreme situation, you hadn’t kept track of where everyone else was. 

“Yeah, no shit –”

“Cursed Technique Reversal: Red,” Gojo said while floating upside down. A small red ball formed in his hand before he flicked it towards you and Toji. It didn’t even seem like he was aiming his deadly technique all too carefully, aiming for the general area Toji was in. Shoko and the blond student had to run and jump out of the way to avoid being slaughtered by their own classmate. Before you could even react, Toji’s sword was out and he was being pushed back by the massive blow. 

“Toji!” you cried out, as he crashed into the building behind him. The sheer force of Gojo’s half hearted attack had shattered the outside of the building and created an impact crater where Toji stood. As the dust cleared, you gasped as you saw that he was bleeding from a wound on his head. Toji’s gaze flicked to yours, his face uncharacteristically open. He wore an expression of confusion and vulnerability rather than his usual cockiness. But just as quickly as it had come, his face shuttered again, and the self confidence you usually saw appeared in his easy half grin.

“These are all things I can handle,” Toji said, now swinging a chain with the sword attached to it as he looked up at a deranged Gojo. 

Toji POV

It had completely taken him out of the moment when you’d called out for him. Not because you’d done anything bad or interrupted his fighting. No, Toji was used to distractions during fights, it wasn’t that. What had really grabbed his attention was that it was like you cared about him. That you gave a shit that he could have died. No one had done that since Megumi’s mom was alive… but there was no time to think about that right now, he had to focus on how to take down the newly awakened Gojo and get you out of there.

When Toji saw Gojo initially, he was of a split mind. His gut was telling him to cut and run, that Gojo was now too powerful for Toji to deal with by himself. On the other hand, Toji really, really wanted to bring Gojo down again. He’d been told all his life that he was shit, that he’d never amount to anything, that he was inherently lesser for not having cursed energy, and all that despite being stronger than anyone else. Hell, he’d killed Gojo about ten minutes prior and that didn’t even count for anything anymore now that the kid had revived. His ego demanded that he fight Gojo, logic be damned.

But once you’d called out for him, your face drawn with tension, Toji’s plans had changed. He still needed to take care of Gojo in some kinda way, the kid was completely lost. And a dazed kid with unlimited power and the ability to regenerate was an issue. Normally, Toji would just think about himself, and what he needed to do in the situation. He still didn’t give a fuck about any of these sorcerer kids hanging around – if they wanted to get themselves killed, that wasn’t his problem. But you were here now, and Megumi was waiting for the both of you with Shiu. You couldn’t get out without  a sorcerer and they wouldn’t help unless he helped deal with Gojo. Something needed to be done, but Toji wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

“Satoru, this isn’t you!” Geto called out, his open robe swaying in the wind. There was something between those guys, but Toji didn’t care in the slightest what it was.

“Suguru,” Gojo replied softly, focusing all his attention on the other sorcerer. “I’m not even angry over you right now. It’s just that the world feels so, so wonderful right now.” Geto shifted his stance, widening his legs. 

“Suguru, should we kill these guys?” Gojo asked calmly, like he was asking if Geto wanted a cup of tea. Geto hissed as his eyes tracked the still floating Gojo. Toji tensed before swinging his sword again. If this was where the kid’s mind was at, he might need to be put down like a rabid dog.

“No, Satoru. There’s no point. There’s no point in creating more harm,” Geto replied. Gojo’s head tilted to the side, like that was a viewpoint he’d never considered before. Geto kept his eyes on Gojo as he ran over to stand next to Toji. One of Toji’s eye brows hiked – what the fuck was this now?

“I can deal with this alone,” Toji grunted, eyeing Gojo’s body in the sky. Gojo had gone lax, his limbs loose like he was resting on a beach instead of about to fight. Even so, Toji knew he was volatile, ready to strike at any moment. 

“No, you can’t! He’s too far gone. He’ll destroy everything and everyone here,” Geto said, his purple eyes only on Gojo. Toji thought back to the fight he’d had with Gojo earlier. He could probably still win, if he was careful.

“I’m strong enough –”

“Think about everyone else! Not just yourself, you dickhead!” Geto yelled. Toji rolled his eyes, the last thing he needed was to be scolded by some schoolboy. He had thought about you and Megumi, wasn’t that enough?

“Satoru!” Geto called out one last time. But the kid wasn’t listening to anyone, he was off in some lala land of sorcery or some bullshit.

“I won’t let you go this way!” Geto said, taking a fighting stance next to Toji. Toji sighed, this was becoming way more annoying than he had anticipated. He reached to the mouth of his worm, grabbing the end of a new weapon and pulling it out.

“Here, kid. If you’re gonna do this, you’ll need something better than your shitty technique,” Toji said with resignation. 

“I don’t need your help –”

“You do. You’re about one minute from keeling over. Take this. Don’t fuck it up, it’s one of my favorite weapons. Playful Cloud,” Toji said, handing over the tri-segemented staff. He didn’t even know why he was doing this, he didn’t care all that much about these kids. But still, if Geto was going to help, he might as well be useful.

“I have enough cursed energy –”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up. The staff doesn’t use cursed energy. It’ll help because you’re so physically weak and bad at fighting,” Toji groaned, already regretting helping the brat. Geto’s mouth slammed shut as he began poorly twirling the staff. Who the fuck was training these assholes? They fucking sucked at fighting. Two of the other kids were running towards Toji as well, taking up similar fighting poses next to Toji. What the fuck was happening? 

“Suguru. You’d stand against me?” Gojo asked, coming down to walk on the ground towards the other brat. Geto’s jaw clenched before he spoke again.

“I will. You’ve become –”

“The strongest,” Gojo finished, his smile sickeningly wide.

“A monster,” Geto replied, his eyes flashing. Toji tuned out as they began having some kind of intense, terse conversation together about whatever. He used Gojo’s momentary distraction to look for you, make sure you were okay. He immediately spotted you, that healer chick next to you again. Normally, he wouldn’t like her buddying up to you but she might be a good shield or be able to heal you if things really went south.

“We’ll help too,” some kid with black hair said. Toji didn’t even bother to respond, this punk was gonna be Gojo fodder.

“Mr. Assassin, I think I can help,” a young blond brat said courteously. Toji threw his chained sword at Gojo, aiming for his head again. Gojo considered it like it was a fly in his face before dodging it easily. Toji didn’t have time for fun and games with high school students any more, this problem needed to be solved. 

“Yeah, not sure about that,” Toji drawled as he thought about his next move. If direct attacks wouldn’t work, could he try to avoid detection and get Gojo that way? Or maybe Geto could use one of his shitty ass curses to…

“I can force a weak spot on Gojo using my technique,” the kid said. Now he had Toji’s full attention. Toji wasn’t one for working as a team, but he didn’t think there were any other ways around it given how strong and insane Gojo was at the moment.

“What?” Toji asked, already pulling out Black Rope. If the kid had a useful technique, he wouldn’t be able to use the Inverted Spear of Heaven. Otherwise, the sword would also nullify whatever the kid would be able to do, making his efforts useless. Toji didn’t like using the rope in battle, he’d gotten it in return for killing off some punk in Africa. The problem was that it burned shorter every time he used it, making it available fewer times. So this attack on Gojo better be worth the amount of rope it burned.

“My ratio technique forces a weak point on any target. If I use it on Gojo, maybe you can strike him hard enough to knock him out. It’s a 7:3 ratio, so the weak point should be right by his heart. You’ll see it,” the kid said, taking a sword out of a holster. 

“Got it. Could work, but we would need Gojo distracted,” Toji said, already thinking through the fight. “He’s too strong to take head on, I’d need to figure out…” Toji’s eyes slid over to Geto, who was now staring at Gojo intensely, some deep emotion running on his face as he watched Gojo walk around like an idiot. Fucking teenagers, Toji thought ruefully. Toji clapped Geto on the shoulder and pulled him back a step to join in the impromptu conference. 

“OK, kid. Your turn to be useful. This brat –

“Nanami Kento, sir –”

“Sure. Nanami is going to force a weak point on Gojo. You’re going to distract him so I can wrap this around him and kill– er, knock him out,” Toji explained quickly. He had nearly said he was going to kill Gojo from muscle memory. The kids probably fought as a team all the time, they could figure out this simple plan. They had one chance to get Gojo, and he didn’t want to waste it.

“Wh - how am I gonna do that?” Geto sputtered, still holding Playful Cloud like a security blanket. Toji took one last look at you before focusing entirely on what needed to happen.

“I don’t fucking know. That’s your job,” Toji said, taking off towards the forest surrounding the barrier. 

Gojo POV

Gojo slouched down in the leather chair in Masamichi’s office, familiar with the setting from the many times he’d been sent here before. It was so annoying to have to deal with Yaga right now, especially as he’d just become the strongest.

Well, maybe.

If Gojo was honest with himself, he still had a lot to learn. Sure, he now had mastery over the Six Eyes, limitless technique, and had finally understood RCT all within the span of one afternoon, but the four other guys in the office had still managed to knock him out. And that really shouldn’t have happened, Gojo thought with a scowl.

It hadn’t been a fair fight, Gojo thought sullenly as he crossed his arms over his chest. The four of them should have been easy pickings for him considering his new powers but they’d still managed to take him down. Which – it wasn’t like he was ever going to kill them. Probably not, anyway. Definitely not Geto. Maybe Toji, but even then Gojo hadn’t really been thinking straight at the time. And yes, Gojo knew that there was no fair fight in the world of Jujutsu sorcery and that every fight could be your last blah blah blah. Gojo could practically hear Yaga yelling at him. Which, Masamichi was yelling at him, but about something different this time. 

…but Gojo hadn’t expected Suguru to confess his love, and especially not in front of everyone. Gojo remembered the moment perfectly, Geto’s purple eyes screwed shut as he yelled out “I LOVE YOU!” in the main courtyard of Jujutsu High. They had been talking about their philosophical differences, something they did often when they were alone. Gojo had just brought up that he didn’t need their limits any longer, that they were beyond what everyone else could ever imagine. 

Gojo had been in a dream-like state where everything felt possible and beyond sublime. Everything had felt like watching a movie – a perfect life untainted by the reality of living. Gojo had been dreaming about his future with Geto when Suguru had blurted out those three words. In that same moment, Nanami had used his ratio technique and Toji executed the strike, knocking Gojo out with enough force to break the gates to Jujutsu High. It was enough to break him from his trance, his dream state lost once more.

It was impressive, but ultimately he really wanted to talk to Suguru in private and see if he meant it or if it was just the heat of the moment. Maybe he could get Suguru to say it again, Gojo thought, tilting his head to the side. He could have Geto at his mercy, pinning him down to kiss him over and over. Gojo would tease him until Suguru cracked, finally getting to the core of his reserved boyfriend. Then he’d make Sugu say it again and again until Gojo finally believed that he meant it, that someone in the world loved him for more than his ability to fight…

“ – GOJO! PAY ATTENTION!” Yaga roared, knocking Gojo on the head.

“Owww,” Gojo complained, holding the side of his head with a pout.

“Have you been listening at all?” Masamichi yelled while circling back to the seat behind his desk.

“No,” Gojo said with an impish smile. He didn’t have to annoy Yaga, but he sure did enjoy it.

“You caused such a massive problem and you’re not even listening! Yu and Kento, you’re dismissed. You’re to stay in your dorms for the time being. Geto, go back to your rooms as well. You’re not off the hook either, but I’ll deal with you later,” Masamichi barked out, dismissing the students with a wave of his hand. The two first years left the room after looking at one another, while Suguru lingered. He put his hand on Gojo’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze before sauntering out of the room, his long robes and hair flowing gracefully behind him. Gojo loved to see Geto coming, but he also loved watching him leave…maybe he could pull Suguru’s hair now that it was down. Geto didn’t usually keep it down but…

“PAY ATTENTION!” Yaga exclaimed, pounding his fist on his desk. Gojo pouted, this was cutting into precious free time. He’d pay attention and get this meeting over with – he wanted to make his way back to Geto as soon as possible. Yaga rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. Gojo frowned – this was not how a scolding from Yaga usually went. Masamichi was all bellowing smoke, not tired resignation. Maybe Gojo had finally broken him.

“Gojo, I don’t know if I can help you with this one,” Yaga said, tugging on his goatee in thought. “You really did a lot this time.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Gojo said, putting his hands behind his head. “Things worked out fine.”

“Gojo. You kidnapped the wife of Zen’in Naoya, brought the Sorcerer Assassin into the school, fought him to the death, and then had to be taken down by a team of sorcerers so you didn’t kill everyone,” Masamichi said, putting his sunglasses on his head to rub his eyes.

“When you put it that way it doesn't sound great. Usagi’s fine and I didn’t actually kill anyone so no harm, no foul,” Gojo said with a smile, crossing his legs. He wasn’t worried – what were the higher ups going to do? He and Geto were the strongest sorcerers, and it wasn’t like the assassin worked for them. Which reminded him…

“You don’t get the money, by the way,” Gojo tossed at Toji. 

“The fuck you mean I don’t get the money? I killed you,” Toji gritted out, crossing his arms. The more Gojo interacted with Toji, the more he liked him. Which, considering Gojo had wanted to kill him initially, was saying something. There was something about him that made Gojo want to bait Toji. Maybe it was the fact that Toji was the only person to come close to killing him, or maybe it was because he could actually learn something from the old man. Either way, Gojo’s opinion on Toji had shifted. 

“I’m not dead, am I?” Gojo taunted with a broad smile.

“You were the first time I left you,” Toji grumbled. 

“The elders are going to want to see Toji too –” Yaga interrupted. Toji rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“I’m not goin’, I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, staring daggers at Yaga. Gojo grinned again, Toji was a good person to know. Another powerful fighter who didn’t bow to the elder’s whims was another potential ally.

“Fighting Gojo within the walls of Jujutsu High –”

“So what?! He started it!” Toji exclaimed, throwing an arm out wide to point at Gojo.

“You’re over 30 and using the ‘he started it defense’?” Gojo asked with a laugh.

“You did start this, you punk. You made me fight to rescue my wo– Usagi,” Toji replied. “Besides, you’re not dead so what’s the problem?”

“Oh, you wanted to fight. And that’s what I said! I’m not dead so you don’t get the money!” Gojo said, crossing his legs.

“I definitely did it once, so give me half the money. S’what would be fair,” Toji complained.

“No way, you didn’t completely slice off my head –”

“And for the murder of several other sorcerers –”

“You don’t have any proof of who killed those sorcerers. No one does. Coulda been anyone. Maybe you did it, Masamichi,” Toji said with a smirk. Gojo laughed as Yaga took a deep breath before turning to face Gojo again. 

“The elders are going to order Toji’s execution –”

“Nah,” Toji said, picking his teeth. They would get along great, Gojo just knew it. There was a squeak from the corner of the room, behind Toji. Gojo didn’t need to turn his head to figure out who it was. You were so quiet Gojo had forgotten about you. Actually, he’d forgotten about you completely until now. You weren’t interesting or powerful, so Gojo had mentally filed you away in the same category as plants and cute animals. 

“And the Zen’in have been demanding we return Usagi,” Masamichi continued. You paled and looked at Toji, scuttling closer as if seeking protection from him. Toji stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowing. 

“No. She’s not going back,” Toji said, giving Masamichi a hard glare. Gojo’s gaze flicked between you and Toji. Oh? Sending you back to the Zen’in set him off but the possibility of being executed didn’t? So Gojo hadn’t been wrong before, not exactly. Toji was interested in Zen’in Naoya’s cute little wife…

“Unfortunately we have to acquiesce to their demands, they are partially in control of the school –”

“I’m not sending her back to the Zen’in. It’s not happening –”

“It would make everything much easier if we sent her back peacefully rather than them coming here–”

“Naoya beats the shit out of her. Nearly killed her. That’s why we’re in the city. I brought her to get healed by Shoko after he strangled her,” Toji gritted out. “So no. She can’t go back to the Zen’in. We’re never going back. I’m not raising my kid in an environment like that and I’m sure as fuck not letting Naoya choke her to death.” Masamichi was silent for once, his face settling into a look of disgust. 

Meanwhile, you had flushed at Toji’s words, your hands shaking. A small pang of guilt pricked at Gojo – he hadn’t meant to do anything that terrible to you. And he certainly hadn’t known your background information. It didn’t surprise him, the clans were complete shit, his own included. So if you couldn’t go back home then…

“You seem broke,” Gojo interrupted. “Where are you gonna go?”

“I’m a little down on my luck, sure. But I’ll figure it out –”

“You kill sorcerers for money. You gotta be broke to be an assassin,” Gojo speculated.

“Again, you can’t prove that. And maybe being an assassin is fun. I wouldn’t know personally, but seems like it could be,” Toji shot back, his grin returning to his face for a moment.

“Just shut up and stay here until I can figure this mess out,” Masamichi said with a long, tired sigh. He looked at Gojo over his sunglasses, his eyes more tired than Gojo remembered. 

“Really, Gojo. Stay here. Don’t make this worse for me than it already is,” he said with a groan before getting out of his chair.

Damn it. His talk with Geto would have to wait. 

And Gojo hated waiting.

No, I don't really think they could take down Gojo together but I thought it was cute. Also yeah black rope here bc it's fun. Miguel’s not dead tho, Toji bumped off one of their enemies or st.

After what Shamrock had revealed the previous day, you had tried to take the necklace off. In truth, the thought to take it off your neck had never crossed your mind previously. The necklace felt like a part of you, like a piece of your puzzle. But you didn’t want to project any kind of information for him to glean, not even if you were distressed or curious. Besides, now that you knew it came from him, you felt like it was tainted. You hadn’t wanted it off before, but now that you couldn’t take it off, that was all you wanted to do. So you had sat in front of the mirror in your room and tried to unclasp it.

You couldn’t.

It was infuriating because you could see the clasp wasn’t broken. It looked like it worked perfectly fine, as gleaming in the mirror as it always was. And yet you couldn’t get it to open. The necklace had stayed locked on your neck no matter how long you tried or which tools you tried to jam in it. You tried for hours and had even asked Ginny for help, but nothing worked. In your desperation you nearly asked Shanks before deciding against it at the last moment. Shanks was the one who had brought trouble to you, so you weren’t going to ask him for anything. It was yet another thing you’d have to ask Shamrock about, you thought as you dropped the necklace back down onto your chest, a scowl on your face. 

You stomped off to the library, already pissed off with Shamrock despite promising yourself to remain aloof and cool. Once outside the building, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. At the beginning of your stay at Kuraigana, you had a tremendous amount of control over yourself and your outward displays of emotions. You had let that control slip over the ensuing months and years, but surely you could summon it once more. Clearing your mind, you exhaled slowly and placed your fingertips on your chest. 

You could do this.

You opened the large, wooden doors to the library. You looked around for your target and spotted him quickly. Shamrock was lounging on a couch, his long legs crossed at the ankle. The late afternoon sun was coming in through the glass windows, highlighting the fiery red of his gorgeous hair as well as his cut cheekbones. His shirt was open nearly down to his bellybutton, revealing a chiseled chest and a smattering of red chest hair. Shamrock looked like he had been outside in the sun and the light tan he’d acquired agreed with him. Looking closer, Shamrock was reading your copy of your favorite book and looking unbelievably sexy while he did it. Shamrock looked up at you with the sound of the door creaking and smirked. 

You could not do this. 

Every fiber of your being had you wanting to either bolt out the door, punch him in his face, or sit next to him on the couch with your head in his lap, but you weren’t going to do any of those things. Unclenching your now balled fists, you walked over to a chair beside the couch and sat down. You tried to regain the peace of mind from minutes before but it was gone as soon as you saw the light dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose and sprinkled across his chest.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that your body wanted his. It definitely wasn’t love, it wasn’t even like – you were woman enough to admit Shamrock was incredibly attractive. And it wasn’t like you’d been with anyone in the years alone on Kuraigana. Definitely something to think about after your time with Shamrock was over.

“Good afternoon, Clover. It’s lovely to see you again,” Shamrock said, laying the book on his lap to shut it gently with his remaining hand. Even his stupid voice was sexy, you thought as you fought the urge to shiver. No, you thought as you straightened your spine. You were a warrior of the Revolutionary Army and you would not be controlled by any man, no matter how sexy he was.

“Hello, Shamrock,” you replied, specifically not returning the compliment. It probably wouldn’t serve you to be petty when you wanted information from him. But you really didn’t have it in you to simper for him while finding out what he had done to you as a slave.

“How are you faring today?” he asked mildly, setting the book to his side in favor of the wine glass on the side table. There was a half filled bottle of red wine on the table next to him, with another bottle and empty glass behind it. A lush like his brother, you thought with a small frown. Even so, you were thinking about asking for the other glass. This was going to be painful.

“Stop,” you said, putting up your hand. “We’re not doing this,” you stated. Shamrock hummed and took a sip from his wine glass.

“Doing what exactly?” Shamrock asked, arching a well manicured brow. You resisted the rising urge to punch him. It seemed he and Shanks brought this feeling out in you in equal measures. 

“I’m not chatting with you like this is a normal situation. I’m here because you forced Dragon’s hand and to get information about my past,” you stated, trying not to stare into his deep brown eyes.

“I understand,” Shamrock said simply before setting his glass of wine back down. “You may ask the first question.” You pursed your lips in anticipation of the main question that had been on your mind before you had another thought come to light.

“Wait, how do I know you won’t lie to me? You don’t really have any reason to tell the truth,” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes. 

“Is that your first question?” Shamrock asked in reply, the smirk on his lips growing wider. If there was any doubt he was related to Shanks, it had been removed from your mind. Definitely a familial failing rather than something you had to atone for.

“Stop being annoying. No, I am merely wondering aloud how I can be certain that what you tell me is the truth,” you said with a roll of your eyes. 

“I am not annoying, perhaps you are thinking of my brother. And I don’t lie as a general rule. I seldom have the need to,” Shamrock said with a shrug. He then looked you in the eyes, his gaze intense in its heat, and answered without breaking eye contact. “And I’ve never lied to you. Not once in the time we’ve known each other.” You swallowed thickly, surprised by the sincerity ringing through his voice. Still, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be cowed by Shamrock, no matter what the situation was. 

“That doesn’t really mean much since I don’t remember any of it. I suppose we will have to agree that we will tell only the truth to each other,” you said, wishing you had some of the wine at his disposal.

“I give you my word,” Shamrock replied, crossing his legs as he sat up on the couch.

“The word of a Celestial Dragon isn’t worth much,” you said, half to yourself.

“Former Celestial Dragon,” Shamrock corrected, flicking his hair over his shoulder. You sighed – it was going to be a long hour if he was going to be like this the whole time. Even so, you took a deep breath and readied yourself for the question that was at the top of your mind.

“My first question is – did you own me as a slave on Marie Geosie?” you asked, unconsciously leaning forward. You felt you knew the answer already but you wanted to have complete certainty. There would be plenty of time to ask smaller questions, but you wanted to cut to the heart of the matter immediately. It felt like the air was sucked out of the room as you focused on Shamrock, waiting intently for an answer.

“Yes,”  was Shamrock’s simple reply. You wanted him to elaborate but he didn’t, instead gazing out the window for a moment. It took you a moment to take in what that really meant for you, especially in relation to the man next to you. Your blood boiled at his answer, like your entire existence could be summarized in one word. 

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” you hissed angrily, your fingers curling into the material of the loose pants you wore. How dare he keep his cool while acknowledging that he had owned you?

“It isn’t your turn for a question. I will answer that, if you wish, after you answer mine,” he replied, his eyes devoid of emotion. His face was eerily blank, like he’d put a mask over his features. You sat back in your chair, nervous about the abrupt change. The thought that Shamrock was one of the strongest people in the world suddenly entered your mind, but you pushed it to the back. 

“OK.” You would have to play his game if you wanted more information. So you steeled yourself, preparing for whatever Shamrock was going to ask. Just as quickly as the mask had come on, it slipped away once more.

“What is your favorite color?” he asked, leaning back and laying his arm across the back of the couch. You blinked rapidly, completely caught off guard. What kind of question was that? Of all the things you had been anticipating from Shamrock, that wasn’t even remotely within the realm of possibility of what you had considered.

“Excuse me?” you replied, leaning forward again.

“You keep answering my queries with more questions. You will be in my debt shortly if I keep answering them,” Shamrock replied easily, drumming his fingers on the couch. Holy fuck you were going to kill this guy. You took a moment before answering, unsure what kind of advantage Shamrock could glean from this kind of information.

“I was surprised, that is all. And a new rule – rhetorical questions don’t count as a turn,” you suggested. Shamrock inclined his head in agreement.

“And the answer to my question is?” Shamrock prompted. 

“My favorite color is green,” you answered quickly, eager to get back to your turn. Clearly, you would have to be exact in your questions otherwise you wouldn’t get the answers you wanted out of him. That was alright, you were familiar with this kind of wordplay from your time spent with Mihawk.

“Are you ashamed to have owned me?” you asked again, this time softer. You weren’t speaking from anger this time, rather a mixture of sorrow and confusion. Did Shamrock regret anything about his past? About yours? Shamrock cleared his throat before speaking again.

“No. I am not ashamed. You were bought for me as a personal attendant when we were both children. I had no say in the matter. In fact, I didn’t want you and refused you at first,” Shamrock said, picking at the pilling on the couch. You blinked a few times with Shamrock’s answer. You hadn’t really thought about the possibility that he hadn’t wanted you as a slave, or that you had both been children. It made sense, since you appeared to be approximately the same age, but it wasn’t something you had considered before. There were so many more questions that sprang to mind but it was now Shamrock’s turn. 

“What shade of green is your favorite?” Shamrock asked, his gaze raking over you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, though you were grateful for the break in intensity from your own questions. At least his questions were easy to answer. You noticed your fingers had drifted back to your necklace, as they often did. Dropping your hand, you pressed your lips together before answering.

“Deep, emerald green.” For some reason, your answer had Shamrock’s eyes softening for just a moment. This wasn’t his smirk, this almost seemed like…affection. Shamrock took hold of his glass once more and sipped the red wine. 

“Ugh, I need some wine,” you said longingly. “And that’s not a question,” you said, pointing your finger in the air.  

“Naturally. I am aware of the difference between a question and a statement. I brought another glass for that very reason,” Shamrock offered. You glanced at the wine, it looked like a pinot noir. Red wine really wasn’t your favorite but you’d drink it in case of an emergency. And dealing with Shamrock made it an emergency.

At first you thought he might struggle to open the wine since he only had one hand and thought about offering your help. However, it quickly became apparent that Shamrock had already opened both bottles. A lovely looking white wine appeared in the second glass as he poured, though your nose wrinkled slightly. Everyone knew red wines should be room temperature but most white wines should be served chilled. Unless they were –

“It is chardonnay, the temperature in this room is perfect to open it up,” Shamrock said to your unasked (and out of turn) question. “I know you don't favor red wines.” He stood up and passed it to you, taking care to ensure that your fingers didn’t touch.

“You don’t know me at all. You don’t know anything about me,” you said, looking into the wine glass. 

“I did, once upon a time. And I’d like to again,” Shamrock said quietly, sitting back down on the sofa. You nearly groaned in frustration. It felt like a conversation that you were being left out of and you were the only other person in it. 

“Which is why my next question is – what is your favorite book?” Shamrock asked. He adopted his normal bored pose but his stiff pose belied his interest. Why did he care so much about such irrelevant things?

“The one next to you, actually. That’s my copy, I brought it with me from Kuraigana,” you said, taking a sip of the wine. Just like he had said, the wine was perfect in the slightly cool room. Shamrock’s fingers traced the cover of the book as he hummed, his gaze directed at the embossed cover. 

The book had been one of the few possessions you’d brought with you, along with your bow and arrow, your cloak, and a few clothes. You held a sentimental attachment to the book, feeling pity for the beast and enjoying the growth of the maiden he loved. You’d spent countless hours reading it time and again, especially the romantic bits. But real life wasn’t a fairy tale and you were no maiden locked in a castle. You half expected more questions on the matter, but he seemed to be content with that one answer. Your answer about your favorite color brought another matter to mind.

“My turn. Why can’t I take this necklace off?” you asked, tugging on your chain. Shamrock slowly brought his eyes to where you were drawing attention, making goosebumps rise on your skin. He wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, you’d brought the necklace up yourself. And still it felt somehow intimate for Shamrock to be looking at your clavicles like that.

“I had it sealed shut by the owner of the lock lock fruit. Only I can open it,” he explained, his eyes still on your decolletage.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, your fingers gripping the gem tightly. Now that you knew your former slave master had put it around your neck, you wanted it off more than ever. It was taking all your self control not to claw at your neck. It felt like the metal was burning your skin, almost like another brand. You scowled as you tugged on the necklace. What had you been thinking sitting here with him? Drinking with him? Talking with him? With your former owner?

“It’s not your turn,” Shamrock reminded you, looking into your eyes. You flinched back, something you hadn’t done since your first week living with Mihawk. Shamrock leaned forward, his sharp eyes looking over you in concern. But you didn’t want him looking at you or talking to you or doing anything with you right now. You needed that goddamn necklace off.

“Take it off,” you demanded, feeling your chest start to heat. It felt like a noose around your neck rather than the balm it had always been. Shamrock was still looking at you with his brow furrowed, like you were a puzzle he had yet to master. Your face was hot as he stared at you, collected and elegant as always. How could he just sit there when he’d…when you’d….when…

“TAKE IT OFF!” you yelled, your nails digging into the tender skin of your neck. Your breath was coming in short pants, and your vision was narrowing. Your skin felt too hot and too tight, like there was something that needed to burst out of you. Sweat was running down your back as buzzing grew in your head. It seemed like you blinked and Shamrock was kneeling in front of you. His fingers were gripping the arm of the chair so tightly it creaked under the strain. His eyes bored into your face, never ceasing to look at you.

“Clover. I will take it off. Take a deep breath,” he commanded, his presence overpowering your own. And yet, it felt like the fist around your throat loosened and you were able to take a shaky, shallow breath. 

“Again,” he ordered, not moving from his position at your feet. You had the gut feeling that if Shamrock was allowed to touch you, you would be wrapped in his arms, flush against his chest. Still, you took a halting, slow breath to calm yourself down, followed by three more. As your lungs filled fully with air, you realized your hands were shaking. So much for a valiant warrior of the Revolutionary Army, you thought wryly. One necklace and you were done for.

“Did…did you ever do anything bad?” you whispered, unable to look him in the eyes. You weren’t able to verify anything that he said; you had no memory of anything that happened in the past. But you needed some kind of cornerstone, something that would give you shelter in this confusion. Shamrock caught your gaze, his eyes softening as he spoke.

“I will not lie to you, Clover. I have done many horrible things. I am not a good man. But I tried to be the best I could be for you. I tried to protect you from harm. I don’t know if I’ve always made the right choices, but I’ve…I’ve tried,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion at the end. A few moments of silence passed between you as you caught your breath. You felt like crying – this was all too much to bear in one short hour. Instead, you bit your lips and closed your eyes, trying to keep from shattering. Shamrock stood up from in front of you and walked around you to the back of the chair you were sitting in. 

“In order to remove the necklace, I will have to touch you. Do I have your consent?” he asked formally behind you. The light scent of lily hit your nose, like a memory so close to the surface you could practically taste it. You kept facing forward as you nodded, you couldn’t bear to look at him right now after that tender confession.

“I need to hear you say it. I will not have any misunderstandings with Dragon,” Shamrock continued from behind you. You licked your lips and spoke quietly. Freaking out like that had robbed you of some of your anger and energy and you didn’t have much more in you. Looking at the clock on the wall, you were almost out of time anyway. 

“You may touch me to remove the necklace,” you agreed. 

“Thank you. Unfortunately with my single hand, it is challenging to open it from this angle. Would you mind standing up?” he asked after a moment of silence. Thinking it through, you supposed having only one hand would make it difficult. You nodded again and complied with his request, coming around the chair to where he was. You stood in front of Shamrock and turned around so that he could unlock your necklace.

The first thing you felt were the tips of Shamrock’s warm fingers grazing your neck as he moved your hair out of the way. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as he lightly touched you, picking the chain off your neck. Your hands flew up to move your hair out of the way for him, holding it away so he could more easily work. Shamrock’s body heat was warm against your back, his presence taking up all of your attention. It didn’t help that he towered over you, making you feel small in comparison. 

Shamrock’s fingers touched the skin on the back of your neck where the clasp was and he leaned down closer to you. You could feel his even breath ghosting along your skin, making goosebumps appear in its wake. He grasped the clasp with his fingers, fiddling with it. That subtle lily scent wafted towards you again as his deep red hair appeared in your periphery. 

As he worked, your mind kept wandering to the fact that if you took one half step back, you’d be flush against his muscled chest. And yes, Shamrock was detestable. But between the gentle way he was touching your skin, his confession of trying to be good for you, and the way he’d helped you calm down, you were like putty in his hands. If he leaned down just a few inches, he could kiss your neck. And you weren’t completely sure that you’d stop him.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you were surprised when Shamrock took a few steps back. Your neck felt lighter, like it was missing something. You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you almost wanted the necklace back on. It felt like a piece of you was missing, a weight that kept you grounded during the turmoil of life. You rubbed the back of your neck, half expecting to feel a groove where the necklace had always lain. But of course, there was nothing.

Shamrock moved to stand in front of you with an inscrutable look. You opened your hand and he pooled the golden necklace within it without touching your palm. The chain was open at last, long and lean like a snake that would bite you.

“So you are aware, the charm is not broken. It still will not unlock for you, only myself. And to answer your question, I put it on you in place of a slave collar,” he said, his gaze distant. Without saying anything else, Shamrock turned and walked to the large wooden doors. You stared at his back as he walked, completely silent. There was nothing to say. 

Your fist closed so tightly around the beautiful necklace that your knuckles turned white. As Shamrock’s hand was on the door, he hesitated for a moment. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, his brown eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t place.

“Until tomorrow, Clover.”

A/N: it was an angsty one but we knew there would be bumps in the road.

“It’s not funny! I look like an idiot!” you snapped back. “Really, would it be so hard for you to let me walk with my dignity intact?” Sabo gestured to the ground, which was covered in shrapnel, debris, and shattered glass.

“You’re not wearing shoes. As much as I respect your autonomy I’d rather not have you slicing them to ribbons,” Sabo pointed out. You huffed a little – he was right, but you weren’t going to admit it. In all the hubbub of the RA attack, you hadn’t remembered to put on your shoes. You hated wearing those stupid heels and often spent your time barefoot when you could.

“Besides, I doubt you care. And no one you know is here to see it anyway, you let everyone else escape. Oh! I have an idea! I’ll carry you like this instead,” Sabo said with a smile. Before you knew it he maneuvered you so he was carrying you bridal style, clutched tightly to his chest.

“This is worse!” you griped. Though, truth be told, it was a more comfortable position for you. If he insisted on carrying you, it might as well be this way. “Where are you taking me?” you asked, your bare feet dangling. 

“To our ship. Like I said, you’re coming with me. I’m not losing you again,” he said, making his way down to the docks. 

“Obviously. You know that’s not what I meant,” you scoffed as Sabo kept walking. Your estate wasn’t on a large island, so you could already see the RA flagship bobbing in the high tide. You licked your lips nervously – you hoped your servants could still get away. The man carrying you did seem to be Sabo, but you didn’t completely believe everything he told you about the Revolutionary Army. Not that you believed everything the nobles said either, but you didn’t want your servants to bear the brunt of their wrath if you were wrong about the Revolutionary Army.

As Sabo quickly made his way down towards the dock, you didn’t see the ship that your servants had been instructed to board. Perhaps they were still in the cove, waiting for the RA to leave. Either way, you didn’t want them to think they had to remain on the island and wait for your shitty husband to return. You wanted better for them – better than working for your shitty husband on some forgotten island in the middle of nowhere. 

“Sabo, can you do something for me?” you asked, looking him in the face. Your eyes unintentionally focused on the scar on the left side of his face. Your fingers were half raised as if to touch it, but you curled them back into your palm. It wouldn’t do to touch a strange man, no matter if you were childhood friends or not.

“Mmh. Anything for my wife,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. You rolled your eyes – Sabo clearly didn’t have the same concerns you did. 

“Sabo, I’m serious. I know you’re taking me somewhere, but I need you to promise me something,” you said, gripping his shoulder with one hand. Sabo’s eyes roved over your face before he gave you a curt nod.

“I need you to leave a message for the servants. Tell them they are free to leave the island, to stay if they wish, or to join the Revolutionary Army, whatever they want to do. They are all released from their contracts and can take what they wish from the mansion. I don’t want them staying out of fear for what will happen to them either with you or with…” you trailed off, not wanting the words to pass your lips. The less you thought about your lawfully wedded husband, the better.

“The current owner of the estate,” Sabo finished for you. His arms gripped you a little tighter but he didn’t falter in his footsteps. You nodded, stroking and tugging on your earlobe with your fingers. 

“Alright, I can do that. I can tell you don’t believe me about what the RA does –”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t believe you, but I also thought you were dead for the past decade until about fifteen minutes ago. Things can change quickly, you know?” you interrupted. Even though you didn’t really know Sabo anymore, your heart felt lighter with the hope that he’d be able to save your servants from being stuck on the island. 

“They’re in the cove, right? The hidden one on the far side of the island? I assume that’s where the tunnels under the estate go. I’ll have someone send a message over,” Sabo said, adjusting you a little higher on his arms. 

“How did you know?” you asked, your mouth open in shock. Sabo laughed as he approached the dock.

“This isn’t our first island takeover. We do our due diligence before we come. Besides, who do you think tipped us off that the brutal owner wasn’t here? A few of your servants aren’t as loyal to your ex husband as you think,” he stated, walking down the wooden dock. You were going to remark that he wasn’t your ex when Sabo took a few steps up the gangplank to the RA’s giant ship.

“EEE! BE CAREFUL SABO!” you yelped, twining your arms around his neck. You hadn’t been so near to the water in years, always afraid you were going to drown.

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Sabo asked, gripping you tightly. His head swiveled left and right, but there was nothing to see.

“No, no, not that. I can’t swim. I was just scared you’re gonna drop me,” you explained, holding yourself tightly to his chest. Your face was nestled in the crook of his neck and a long forgotten scent hit your nose. Carnations and cedarwood mixed together and created a scent that had you taking a discreet sniff of his shirt. Sabo took a few steps back onto the dock and pulled you away from his body to look at your face.

“Yes you can, what are you talking about? I don’t remember much but I remember you beating me in a swimming race,” Sabo said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You shook your head, which made Sabo drop his hand.

“I beat you in every swimming race, you were super slow. But I can’t swim, not anymore. I ate a devil fruit a few years ago,” you said glumly. 

“Oh! How wonderful! What does it do?” Sabo asked, his excitement growing. 

“Nothing good or helpful. It’s a stupid one. I regret eating it,” you said, looking off to the side. You’d found it in the small forest on the estate during one of your daily walks. You had been so excited, thinking it would maybe help you escape from your husband and get out of the terrible life you lived, but it hadn’t done much of anything. You hadn’t even told anyone until now, afraid of what other nobles would say to your husband if anyone found out. Rare devil fruits were excellent to have, but one like yours would bring shame to your husband.

“Come on, then. You can tell me,” Sabo prodded, his hand rubbing up and down the outside of your thigh. You should have told him to stop but it felt too good at the moment. No one had touched you kindly in years; you were completely touch starved. As it was, you wanted to purr like a spoiled cat as he patted you. Why had you wanted him to set you down again?

“You’re gonna laugh,” you pouted as Sabo took a few steps towards the gangplank once more. Your eyes flicked down to the waves lapping at the dock. Being so close to water made you nervous, even if the chance of drowning was so slim.

“Never,” he said, one foot on the plank. You gave him a small frown and narrowed your eyes. Sabo smiled back at you, filling your mind with visions of him as a child doing the same. Your frown broke as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“It was a zoan fruit. I turn into a… well, a giant uh, snail –”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA–”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T LAUGH!” you yelled, punching his shoulder lightly with your fist.

“It’s so funny though! A giant snail! You could have had any power in the world and you got stuck with being a gastropod!” Sabo said, still laughing. Truthfully, you didn’t mind if Sabo was laughing with you. It felt freeing to finally be able to tell someone about your devil fruit, even if it was completely useless. It was one less secret you had to keep close to your heart.

“I gotta tell Koala, that’s too good,” Sabo said with a happy sigh, starting back up the gangplank. Your arms gripped him tightly, your fingers digging into his skin. In turn, Sabo held you tighter, holding you higher so your ear was by his mouth.

“ ‘M not gonna drop ya. You’re safe right here in my arms. Nothing bad is going to happen to you,” Sabo said softly to you, breaking the joviality of before. You shivered as his sweet words skittered down your spine, his breath tickling your skin. You scrunched your eyes shut as he ascended to the ship, afraid to look down at the water. It was foolish, but you hadn’t really been down to the waterfront since you’d eaten your fruit. 

“We’re on the ship. See? Nothing happened, like I promised you,” Sabo said, his hands loosening their grip on your legs. You cracked open an eye and saw that Sabo had brought you to the main deck of the RA flagship.

“Oi! Who’s that? I thought we weren’t taking anyone,” a female voice said from across the deck as Sabo set you on your feet once more. 

“Koala, come here! There’s someone I want you to meet!” Sabo said excitedly, waving to a short, brunette woman with a puffy hat. She walked over quickly, her eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t kidnap her, did you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes,” you replied.

“No,” Sabo said simultaneously. Sabo slung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you a step closer to his side. You looked up at his face – Sabo was taller than you realized. You had towered over him for a few years as kids, but things had clearly changed.

“Koala, this is my wife, Grace,” Sabo said, gesturing to you.

“What do you mean wife –”

“My name isn’t Grace!” you erupted, pushing his arm off your shoulders to face him. “That’s a nickname you gave me because I fell off the log bridge into the river one time!” you said, poking his chest with your index finger.

“Again, what do you mean wife? What log bridge and river? Sabo, you’re married?” Koala reiterated, scratching her forehead.

“No, we’re not married,” you huffed as Sabo replaced his arm over your shoulders. This had to be the same Sabo you remembered – no one ever pushed your buttons like Sabo was able to.

“We are,” Sabo rebutted, now playing with the ends of your hair. You swatted his hand away but he remained undeterred, his fingers instead shifting to slowly drawing circles on your upper arm.

“It’s nice to meet you, uh, Grace. I’m Koala, one of Sabo’s childhood friends and an officer in the Revolutionary Army,” the brunette explained, offering her hand. You shook it and gave her a smile back. You weren’t going to be rude just because Sabo was annoying you. You were about to answer her when Sabo interrupted you.

“Oh, Grace was also one of my childhood friends. From before the accident. That’s when we got married,” Sabo explained, as if that was a totally logical statement. You gave him a dirty look and pursed your lips in annoyance.

“You remember your childhood? That’s incredible, Sabo! What can you remember –” Koala was speaking but you interrupted her just as Sabo had you. Of course Sabo remembered his childhood. He probably remembered just as much as you did – he’d been there along with Ace and Luffy. You’d ask him about them soon, you were so curious about what happened to them. There hadn’t been any news from the outside world at your home for so long, but surely Ace and Luffy had made their ways as pirates. But first you needed to nip this marriage thing in the bud before Sabo got any other grand ideas about your place in his life.

“Sabo, in case you don’t remember, I’m legally married to someone else. You know, the person you’re currently robbing and ransacking? We kissed once as kids, that doesn’t make us truly married,” you said, giving him a stink eye. Sabo stared back at you, unwavering in his intensity.

“Yes it does. The government is bullshit so what they say doesn’t matter. You’re my wife, Grace. And that’s all there is to it.”

Sabo’s POV

Sabo couldn’t believe it. 

He remembered you.

He remembered only you.

Sabo remembered spending time with you in the forests of Goa, hunting and fighting and  swimming and playing. It was like you had burst into his memories, bringing color where there had only been darkness. There were other shadowy figures on the periphery but he couldn’t place anything about them yet. You said something about others in his past, and he would take the time to dig into that later. For now there was no reason to divulge that his entire childhood was a void in his mind, everything between his parents and Dragon finding him a complete blank.

Except for you.

Sabo didn’t know how it was possible that he had recovered some of his memories of his childhood after so many years without. He also didn’t know how only his solo memories of you had returned, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Clearly, seeing you was the key to it all and he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Once he saw you brandishing a metal pipe at him in your stuffy manor, it triggered a flood of memories all at once. He’d nearly dropped to the ground with the overwhelming amount of information that came flooding back but held himself together. Sabo would fall apart later when there wasn’t anything at stake, but for now he’d pretend like nothing was amiss.

“Yes it does. The government is bullshit so what they say doesn’t matter. You’re my wife, Grace. And that’s all there is to it,” Sabo said while looking at you intently. He was framing it somewhat lightheartedly, but he wasn’t joking. Sabo now considered you his wife, as much as if you had been married the previous day in court. Yes, he knew you were legally married to another, but that asshole forfeited his rights to you the moment that Sabo laid eyes on you again. He’d figure out what to do about your soon to be ex-husband in the future. 

He’d known you were still the same person from the moment you saved your servants. Sabo had destroyed many mansions and estates of World Nobles, and none of them had ever given a single thought to their slaves or servants. Not only that, but he’d purposely destroyed that tacky, expensive vase to gauge your reaction. You didn’t even bat an eye, instead keeping your gaze trained on him. They could give you the appearance of a noble lady – and what an appearance that was – but underneath you were the girl he remembered, the one that he truly loved.

And he did love you, Sabo realized as he watched you scowl at him. As a child, Sabo had been completely enamoured with you. It had been the only secret he’d kept close to his heart, afraid that someone (who?) would make fun of him for liking a girl. But Sabo had loved you with all of his boyhood heart. You were strong and courageous and smart and funny and brave, all qualities that he himself wished to have. And that little girl had grown up to be an especially lovely woman, Sabo thought as he looked you up and down. 

“I have a question for you,” Sabo said, dragging his gloved finger across the exposed flesh of your back and shoulders. He didn’t like anything about the noble class, but he would thank whoever it was that made this dress for you. It was rather modest, with a mid calf skirt and a sweetheart neckline, but that only made Sabo’s imagination spark.

“What now? Are you gonna make fun of my fruit again?” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh yeah! Koala, listen to this. Grace–” 

“NOT MY NAME –”

“ – Ate a zoan devil fruit and she turns into a giant snail!” Sabo said, finishing with a bright smile. Koala smiled, though she had the decency not to laugh.

“Oh! Like a giant den den?” Koala asked, tipping her head to the side.

“What’s that?” you asked, scrunching your nose. Sabo blinked – surely everyone knew about den den mushi by now. Though, thinking back, he hadn’t seen any methods of communication at the estate. Maybe your ex-husband took them with him when he traveled. You certainly wouldn’t be the first stranded noble wife he had encountered. 

“You know, those telepathic snails we use for communication?” Sabo offered. Your face cleared of all expression, like you were playing a role of a noble wife. Sabo’s hackles rose – this blankness was something new in you. You were always so expressive when they were kids, what had happened to make you be able to act like this?

“Of course, silly me. I misheard you,” you lied easily. If Sabo hadn’t been a trained spy, he might have missed your tells. You must have become accustomed to lying during the time you and he had been apart, and Sabo wanted to know why. Oh well, one more mystery he’d uncover later when the two of you were alone.

“Hmm…once you show me your Zoan form, we can see if that’s the case,” Sabo offered. Your mouth twisted a little.

“Maybe. I don’t really like being in my Zoan form,” you hedged, crossing your arms and tugging at your earlobe.

“Oh? Why not?” Sabo asked, genuinely curious. “from what I’ve heard, Zoans love being in their counterpart form – or even a hybrid state. Is it because you’re so slimy? Or because you leave a snail trail?” Sabo asked, trying to rile you up. He didn’t know why he said it, it felt like he couldn’t stop himself around you. Your face heated up with his words but you gave no indication that you understood the double entendre. 

“NO. It’s not that. I don’t like it because it’s too loud,” you said, tossing your head. Sabo looked at Koala – she was on to something. She nodded in silent understanding that he wanted her to continue asking you questions. After so many missions together, they understood one another exceedingly well even without verbal communication. 

“What do you mean loud? Like you can hear too much? Or from greater distances?” Koala prompted, taking a few steps closer to you.

“Not exactly. It’s like if you had thousands of people in a room and everyone was talking all at once. Kinda like that. It’s overwhelming,” you said, taking a step backwards and bumping into Sabo’s chest. Were you…retreating? From Koala? Sabo didn’t mind that you were close to him, but he was rather surprised. He couldn’t remember you backing off….well, ever. Not that he remembered much, but it was more than before.

“Alright, makes sense. I’m gonna go below deck, got some things to do before we sail,” Koala said with a wave. She gave a curt nod to Sabo which he returned. If you really were a giant den den, the RA would be able to use your talents for an incredible advantage. You’d have to train of course, and Sabo could aid you with the help of his own devil fruit…but that was for later. Right now Sabo didn’t care about any of that, he needed to find out about his past.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, giving a curtsy. Sabo sniffed out his nose, yet another trapping of the upper class that had been drilled into you. Sabo danced his fingers along your arm, ending by wrapping them loosely around your neck. You shivered as he leaned down to speak softly into your ear, his fingers splaying over your carotid. Your heart beat fast as Sabo blew hot air on the exposed skin of your neck. 

“ Now that we’re alone, I do have one more question for you,” Sabo asked, watching goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Y-yeah?” you stuttered out. 

“You didn’t like wearing underwear when we were kids. Is that still the case?” he whispered. It was true, Sabo rationalized. You really hadn’t liked wearing them, something he had noticed one day. He hadn’t shared that information with anyone (WHO?) but did start letting you climb to the tree house first on days when you wore a skirt. Your eyes opened wide as you slowly turned to face him. Sabo grinned, he was going to be kissing you by the end of the night.

Instead, your arm reared back and you punched him in the nose.

Notes:

“Try this one,” Thatch urged you, as the yellow juice slid down your hand.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” you said after eating the fruit and licking the juice off your fingers. He had given you something called a mayngo, an Eurt fruit you’d never had before. Well, you technically hadn’t had any fruit from Eurt before now, but you didn’t think that was an important distinction to make. 

“Can I have some more?” you asked, eyeing the rest of the yellowish orange fruit. As you had long imagined, Eurt had delightful fruits and vegetables. Lafftale only had a select few varieties of Eurt plants that were constantly being regrown, so there wasn’t any variety to your diet there. And Marco was right, Thatch had a whole supply of Eurt foods, and you were all too happy to try every single one of them.

“You said that about everything I’ve given you!” Thatch exclaimed with a smile. He clearly wasn’t upset by your assessment, his chest puffed up with pride. He’d given you Eurt fruits like mango, apples, and papaya, and vegetables as well. He also had prepared foods like bread, cheese, and cookies. You thought you were going to pop, but you couldn’t stop yourself from eating everything he offered you.

“Yeah, but it’s true. Everything you’ve made has been incredible,” you said happily, your hand on your stomach. You weren’t even lying to satisfy him – you really hadn’t ever had such tasty food in your life. If you could eat warm bread forever, you would.

“What were you eating before? Dust? You said you didn’t have any meat on Lafftale,” Thatch said with a laugh, though his eyes were sharp. His tongue flicked out over his mouth as he waited for you to answer. Oh, he thought he’d glean information from you just like that?

“You’re right, only dust,” you agreed, giving away nothing. A small sound had Thatch glancing at his controller.

“Bah. Marco says it’s time for you to come back to him in his lab. He says he has something for you to do,” Thatch said, flicking away an incoming message. You frowned – what could Marco want you to do? You’d already orgasmed once that day, you didn’t need any more vaccines, you weren’t tired…you supposed you would find out. 

“I don’t wanna do anything else, I wanna stay here and eat more,” you complained. Maybe Thatch would intercede for you, though you doubted it. And actually, your stomach was pretty full from all the samples he’d given you. Maybe it was time to head back before you gave yourself a stomachache. 

“I bet he doesn’t even have anything for you to do, he’s probably just jealous,” Thatch scoffed. “He can’t stand that you love me more than him,” he said with a wide, teasing grin, his tail flicking once behind him.

“Yeah right. I love the food you give me for sure, but I’m not settled on you yet,” you tossed back, aiming for a joke. You were tense until Thatch laughed, placating your nerves. 

“We have plenty of time to get to know one another. I’m sure you’ll come around to me sooner or later, everyone does. I’m the only one with mangoes, and the cacao is almost ready to harvest. I’m sure you’re gonna want to try that when it’s ready. There’s a reason the crew like me more than Marco, everyone likes the chef more than the doctor,” Thatch said as he lifted you off the counter and set you back on the floor. 

When you first arrived at the kitchen, you had worried that Thatch would try touching you or initiating too much contact with you. But beyond helping you on and off the counter, he hadn’t really touched you at all, beyond a few finger grazes when offering you food.

“What’s cacao?” you asked, squinting your eyes.

“It’s what chocolate is made from,” Thatch clarified. Your eyes went wide and your mouth dropped open.

“I always wanted to try it! It’s been my dream!” you squealed, gripping his chef’s coat. Thatch nearly wrapped his fingers around your hand, stopping at the last moment with a small frown.

“Yes, but I don’t think I was supposed to tell you,” Thatch said with a grimace, scratching the back of his neck. “Vista wanted to be the one to let you know but I couldn’t help myself. Not when you look like that at me,” he explained, pinching your cheek. You thought for a moment – you hadn’t given him puppy eyes or anything. Thatch was definitely weak to the charms of humans, you thought. A ping on your controller told you that you had an incoming message and you didn’t have to be a real Three Eyes to know who was sending it.

“Alright, I think it’s time I go. Marco’s getting annoyed,” you said, not really reading the message as you flicked it away. Thatch also got a message, which he scanned quickly.

“Oh, uh, right. Luna, before you go, I have something I need to show you,” Thatch said, suddenly standing up straight. Whereas before he had been relaxed and cheerful, he now seemed rigid and wooden. Your senses were on high alert – change wasn’t always good. 

“What’s up?” you asked, suspicious of his sudden change in demeanor.

“Follow me,” he said, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. You crossed the kitchen floor with him as he led you to a cupboard that was roughly your height.

“If, for whatever reason, you ever need to get food and there is no one to help you, it is located here,” Thatch said, opening the cupboard. “Normally, Marco or I will bring you food, but in the event that we are not here, everything in this cupboard is safe for you to consume. If you open any of the containers, the food will be fresh. There are also meal bars that are suitable for you,” Thatch said, gesturing to the trays and bars. 

“Alright,” you agreed, giving him a slow nod. You could use these foods for when you made your escape. 

“So if you need to take food, take it only from here,” he reiterated, looking you right in the eyes.

“I got it. Only take food from here if I ever need it,” you repeated back to him, letting him know you understood. Thatch nodded at you solemnly, before forcing a smile over his mouth seconds later.

“But you probably won’t need to do anything like that, so I can stop worrying,” he said with an uneasy grin.

“Sure. Ok, well, um, I’m gonna go,” you said, pointing towards the door. That whole interaction had been so weird and stiff. What the hell was Thatch’s problem? It was good information but why had it made him so nervous to say it? You also didn’t want to die from poisonous ingredients and you hadn’t tried to eat anything that wasn’t served to you. 

“Aw, well, make sure to take time to see me again!” Thatch said, breaking into a true smile. “And let me know if you get lost on your way back to the lab. Wait, do you need directions?! You can ask me for them! Or Marco! Or Izou! Or –”

“No, I’m good. I have a map. OK bye,” you said quickly with a final wave before turning to leave out the main door of the kitchen. Any being in your way suddenly moved to the side like you were repulsing them, like they’d been told to get out of your way. You narrowed your eyes – something was definitely going on. 

You’d keep everything in mind but right now you wanted to walk around the ship by yourself. Pulling up your map once the door to the kitchen closed again, a blinking dot indicated where you were in the ship. The Moby was well structured, with its spoke and wheel design easy to navigate. You would have been able to find Marco’s lab and room even without the small picture of himself smiling that hovered above it on your map. You scowled, did Marco not remember you had navigated space by yourself? 

Setting out, you walked along the mostly empty hallways along the path to Marco’s lab. Your eyes flicked between your map and the hallways as you walked, making sure you were going in the correct direction. It was easy going and you really could have taken a direct route back to the lab. But instead you decided to take a longer route, a path that would allow you to explore more of the ship. After all, you could blame taking longer on being unfamiliar with the ship or taking a wrong turn. There was no way Marco would be able to fault you for your path as long as you eventually made it back, right? 

But as you passed the entrance to another wing, you noticed a discrepancy. You stood back against the wall, your eyes flicking rapidly between the map on your controller and what you were seeing with your eyes. Thankfully, the hallway was deserted and you could think to yourself without having to worry about anyone else watching you. You were in the general area of the Second Division, but you weren’t quite sure where this new area would lead since it wasn’t delineated on your map.

There was no doubt about it, some sections of the ship had been redacted from your map. Now what could be behind the doors that Marco didn’t want you to see? You chewed your lip as you considered your options. Maybe it contained something that was dangerous for you, something that you shouldn’t be near. You rubbed your forehead in thought. No, that wasn’t likely. If there was something on the ship you couldn’t be near Marco probably would have told you or highlighted the area bright red with a skull on it or something. 

Which meant that there was maybe something interesting or important behind that door, something Marco didn’t want you looking at. You licked your lips, thinking about what to do. You could always feign ignorance and tell him that you’d taken a wrong turn? Marco might fall for that, but probably not. You sighed and cracked your knuckles – hopefully whatever was behind that door was worth a spanking if Marco caught you.

You held up your controller to the panel, testing to see if it would work to open the door. Marco had told you that your controller now worked as a kind of key and that you could use it to open most doors on the ship like his did. Maybe he hadn’t thought to restrict your access to this one since it wasn’t on your map. Hopefully it didn’t send him an alarm or anything and you could plausibly deny doing anything wrong. You held your breath as the light on the control pad blinked for a moment, the door sliding open seconds later. Exhaling your breath, you stole into the area before the door could close. 

Inside was quite dark, you couldn’t really make out much. The lights probably hadn’t been adjusted for you since you clearly weren’t supposed to be in here. You walked along the wall, using your hand for guidance as you strained to make out anything in the murky blackness. Maybe you could convince Marco to put a light on your controller, you thought.

“Oi! What’s a little human doing in the old escape pod hangar? Lemme get a good look at’cha,” a voice boomed out from the inky darkness. Your head whipped around, trying to find the source of the sound. Before you could blink, your wrists were each captured above your head, a black tentacle pulling them higher and pinning them to the wall behind you. You grunted as you stretched up onto your toes – whoever this was, they hadn’t gotten the message that everyone else seemed to. Was this being another Cnidarian? 

“Marco’s been keeping you under lock and key all to himself. Never planned on sharing you with the rest of us, eh? ZEHAHAHAHAHAHA,” the being laughed, despite nothing being funny. You grimaced as a being finally came into view. This being was tall, easily twice Ace’s height, with a long beard, missing teeth, gold earrings, and crazed eyes. He looked almost exactly like a Cnidarian, but slightly darker. There was something different about him though, like he was wearing a costume over another form.

You had long learned to follow your gut instincts and right now they were screaming at you that this guy was dangerous. You swallowed thickly, trying to think of the best way to get away from him without alerting Marco. Luckily, the being didn’t seem to want or need interaction from you to keep going.

“Tch, such an ugly thing. Breakable, too. I heard what happened with Ace,” he continued, a sick smile coming onto his face as the grip on your wrists tightened. You wanted to scoff that it was rich hearing you were ugly coming from him but you didn’t think that was the best idea at the moment. The idea to call for Marco flitted through your mind, but you quickly dismissed it. If you cried for Marco, he’d never let you go anywhere on the ship alone ever again. Hopefully this being would tire of tormenting you soon and you could get away.

“Well, not really heard. Smelled. That meat of yours was absolutely mouthwatering when he seared it. And your blood? Oh, I can’t wait to get a sip. Don’t get me wrong, I can smell that sweet cunt from across the hangar, but that’s the thing about humans,” he said, a humanoid hand coming up to squish your cheeks together. Marco had done similar gestures before but it hadn’t made your skin crawl the same way this being was now. 

Holy fuck this being wanted to eat you, you thought as your breath came in short pants. With another tentacle he hoisted you higher by your arms until your feet were no longer touching the ground. A dark tentacle ran along the inside of your thighs as you dangled, making you squirm. It felt similar to Izou’s, but less solid, almost like it was made of sooty darkness. You cringed backwards, internally apologizing to Marco for disobeying his rules. Maybe they had been in place for a reason, you thought, screwing your eyes shut. Because this being was going to grill and eat you alive, leaving nothing but the suit you were wearing.

“You’re tasty any way you come. At first I thought I should sell ya, make tons of money and be done with you. But now, now, I really wanna eat cha. Meal fit for an Emperor,” he said, bringing his face close enough to yours that you could feel his breath on your face. He smelled rancid, even to your dull senses, like carrion and sewage. You tried breathing through your mouth to avoid the rank smell. His small, beady eyes were glued to you, watching every movement you made. 

“Nothin’ to say, girlie? That’s fine, that’s not what yer useful for,” he said, his long, thin tongue licking up your cheek. You shuddered, wondering if this was how you would meet your ignoble end. Hopefully Marco torched this guy after he ate you, you thought, preparing to kick at him. If you were going to be killed, you wanted to at least try fighting. It would probably be useless based on his size, but you wanted to try. Your controller pinged above your head, likely from your rapidly increasing heart rate. The being’s eyes flicked to your controller, a cold, cruel smile breaking out over his face once again.

“ZEHAHAHAHA looks like someone is missing you already. Well I won’t keep your current owner waiting. We’ll meet again, I’m sure,” he said, releasing you suddenly. You dropped to the floor, falling in a pile. You didn’t wait to hear this being’s next thoughts about humans. You scrambled to your feet and opened the door, running as fast as you could away from the darkened hallway. Your lungs and legs were burning but you weren’t going to find out if he wanted to fuck you before or after he killed you. The only sound you heard above your thumping heart was his booming laugh as you ran down the hallway.

Marco POV

Marco watched your little dot draw rapidly closer to the lab on his controller. He had been watching your progress the entire time after you’d left the kitchens, monitoring exactly where you were going and at what speed. Just like he had guessed, at first you had been taking your time and meandering through the ship. You were generally headed in the right direction, but taking every hallway and turn that would make the journey take longer. 

You had even detected an area that wasn’t on your map and had hesitantly entered it for a few moments. It was the deck where old escape pods were stored in case of emergency, some hangar in the back of the Second Division wing. He and Izou had redacted that location from your map because they were guiding you to “steal” one of the newer escape pods. The older escape pods, much like the one that you had navigated before, were harder to pilot and more finicky. It would be safer for you to use the newer ones, and they had been preparing a perfect pod for you to take. The crew was warned not to use pod 10-5 – it was able to be tracked and remotely controlled by the main ship, unlike all the other escape pods.

Marco watched your dot enter the hangar and stay still, not moving forward into the area. It was probably dark for you, you likely wouldn’t be able to see what was there. Marco didn’t blame you for going inside – he knew humans were curious by nature – but every second that you weren’t with a Commander was nerve wracking for him. Normally Marco would soothe himself by setting you on his lap and petting you, but that outlet wasn’t available to him either. Marco understood the importance of the plan he and Izou had put into effect, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. 

Within a few minutes of you being in the hangar, your dot had left suddenly and made a beeline back to his lab. Marco trilled at your wonderful behavior. Clearly, you had thought about the implications of disobeying him and had decided to leave the hangar of your own volition. Marco remembered you were afraid of the dark, so perhaps that was what was propelling your rapid motion. Either way, Marco was proud you hadn’t gone deeper into the area.

Marco turned off his holomap as you approached the lab, your dot finally slowing down. Your heart rate and blood pressure were elevated, probably because you finally ran for a brief moment. Marco tutted – thankfully he’d already made plans to start helping your poor cardiovascular system. Wherever Lafftale was, there clearly wasn’t sufficient space for you to exercise. 

The door to Marco’s lab slid open and you barreled straight into the room. Marco was slightly surprised, normally you were on edge when you were in the lab. You stopped right in front of him, placing your hands on your thighs and breathing heavily. 

“Mar – Marco,” you huffed, still out of breath from your run. Marco slid off his chair and went to the cupboard to grab your glass. He filled it with water before handing it to you, your face still hot from your brief sprint. You grabbed the glass and chugged the water, some of it spilling down the sides of your mouth. Marco took the glass back and set it on the table, watching your heart rate slowly lower on his controller.

“HAH th-thanks HAH,” you panted, finally standing back upright. It had taken you about seven minutes to completely recover from a 3 minute run. Not a great sign, Marco thought as he gave you a brief visual inspection.

“Are you alright yoi?” Marco asked mildly, standing in front of you. He really wanted to scoop you up and sit you in his lap but he was bound by the stupid rules. You looked up at him, your guilty expression quickly covered by an unconvincing smile.

“Yea-yeah! I’m great. Thank you for letting me walk back by myself,” you said, taking deep breaths. As soon as you stopped breathing heavily, you looked up at him, your human eyes opened wider than usual. You took a small step and flung your arms around his waist, rubbing your cheek against his middle for a moment. Marco blinked rapidly before tentatively winding his arms around you as well. Finally having you back in his arms felt so right, so perfect. And you had initiated the contact after all, so he couldn’t get in trouble.

You squeezed him briefly before letting go and standing up straight once again. Marco quickly let go of you in return, giving you full freedom of movement. 

“What was that about?” Marco asked as you leaned against his desk. You shrugged your shoulders and looked away, not answering his question. Marco didn’t want to prod you too much in case you became embarrassed and didn’t repeat the movement. 

“Alright, keep your secrets yoi,” Marco said with an indulgent smile. Maybe Izou was right – having you initiate the contact felt much more rewarding than when he commanded your presence. It was the difference between something taken and something given, he mused as you looked around the lab, your eyes darting among all his equipment.

“What are you working on?” you asked, standing up to walk over to a few samples on a far work bench. 

“I am synthesizing more vaccines and cures for Oro’s virus,” Marco said, trying to lay the bait for you without making it too obvious. Your nose scrunched as you touched the outside of your thigh where he had injected you all those times.

“Why? I thought you said I don’t need it,” you replied, drumming your fingers on the bench. Marco chirped in laughter, you were such a funny little thing.

“You don’t. But the Whitebeard Pirates may be recruiting soon and others might, Luna. You are not the only being who I concern myself with yoi,” Marco answered. You tilted your head in consideration, and Marco could almost hear the thoughts forming in your mind. 

The vials didn’t actually contain any live ingredients, they were filled with plain injection fluid. Administering any of those “cures” wouldn’t do anything to any being. There also wasn’t any recruiting event, and no one would have Oro’s virus even if there was. The virus wasn’t an issue any longer since Oro’s had been eradicated throughout the universe. The whole setup was so  you would think you were getting what you needed. It ultimately wouldn’t matter since they’d be following you to Lafftale and he could aid any ill humans, but Marco knew you wouldn’t leave without getting a “cure.” 

Marco had done a lot of thinking about your meager comments around Oro’s virus. Based on your surprise that there was a vaccine and a cure, he was guessing Lafftale hadn’t heard the news yet. He had long realized that the remote location that you had been living had at some point had been exposed to Oro’s virus, but that wasn’t unique to Lafftale. Nearly every corner of the universe had been exposed at one point or another. You had mentioned that you had gone to space for supplies, so Marco assumed that you were looking for more vaccines or cures for  the virus. He was going to find out if his hypothesis was correct when you made your escape.

“I keep many vaccines and medications on hand in case of need. The health of the crew is my highest priority,” Marco said, trying not to lay on the information too thickly. “These are done, actually. I’ll put them away and then we have to go,” Marco informed you as he began placing the vaccines in injectors. Marco could practically feel your eyes on him as he placed the injectors in an unlocked cabinet. Shutting the door easily, Marco turned around and clapped his hands together.

“Off we go to the gymnasium yoi,” Marco said in a chipper tone. Now your face really did fall as you gave him a nasty look.

“No. I don’t want to,” you said, your arms akimbo. You were cute when you were defiant but Marco wasn’t going to budge.

“I didn’t ask. It is time to begin working on your cardiovascular health. You are not in good physical condition yoi,” Marco explained instead of throwing you over his shoulder and simply carrying you as he wanted to. Really, he should be given a reward for how patient he was being.

“But…but you said I can make choices now,” you said with a pout. Oh, so defiance hadn’t worked so you were trying to work on him from a different angle. Without being able to touch you, it was easier to see how you were operating. Frankly, Marco wouldn’t have given in no matter what you did, but it was adorable to see you pout. 

“Yes, you are able to make some choices now. However, I told you that I would foster your independence as long as it didn’t interfere with your health. You must increase your stamina yoi,” Marco said with a frown. You looked at him for a moment before sighing, likely weighing your options. Marco wore a stern expression, and folded his arms across his chest.

“Fiiiiine. Lead the way,” you said dejectedly. You began moving slowly, with your limbs loose, like Marco was taking you to a torture chamber. Based on your reaction, it may have felt the same to you.

A short while later, Marco pushed open the door to the gymnasium for you.  Only Commanders were allowed to use the exercise room at this time, which was why Marco had reserved the loop for you now. You were hesitant to walk in, your eyes flicking around the various crew exercising. You were sticking closely to Marco’s side, your little fingers winding around his forearm. It was getting increasingly difficult to not touch you but Marco would have to persevere. Once the humans had been captured, he would again be able to touch you as much as he pleased.

Marco was a little surprised at your reluctance to enter the gymnasium given how much more comfortable you seemed on the ship. But then he remembered the first time he’d walked with you through the hallways – perhaps your trepidation remained when there were many crew members about. You were still frail and vulnerable, perhaps that was on the top of your mind given how large most of the equipment was.

“Who’s here right now?” you asked, trying to get a look at everyone in the exercise room.

“You know everyone here. Actually, Ace is on the piece of equipment that you need right now yoi,” Marco said, putting his hand behind your back to gently push you forward in a rare moment of weakness. He walked you towards a recessed area in the wall of the ship. It looked almost like an empty circular space, though there was a track that ran around the loop. Ace was running at his top speed, nearly able to climb the walls of the track with his speed and claws. He was running on all fours, the way he did when he was pushing himself to the maximum. Even Marco could see the beauty of Ace’s fluid elegance. Despite his young age, Ace was incredibly strong, and it was evident when he ran.

“Oi, Ace. It’s Luna’s turn. She needs to walk so get off the machine,” Marco said, waving his hand to signal Ace's attention. Ace grinned and ran with a burst of increased speed for a moment before jumping off. As always he landed gracefully on his feet, a feat which you admired with a sharp inhale of breath. Though after a second you looked between the still spinning track and Marco.

“I can’t go that fast, Marco! You’re gonna kill me,” you whined, clutching on Marco’s arm. Ace laughed as he drank some water, his tail flicking in interest.

“It only goes as fast as you go. It’s self propelling. You’ll do great! I’ll even walk next to you. It can be like we’re strolling together,” Ace offered, extending his hand. No way on Eurt, Marco thought with a scowl on his face.

“No, Ace. Luna needs to walk on her own yoi,” Marco said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Marco, this sucks. I don’t want to walk in there,” you complained, looking up at him.

“I know. But you have to walk. Each time you do it, it will help you get a little stronger. Eventually you will thank me. Who knows? Maybe you’ll run into my arms one day,” he said with a smile. You scowled at him. Marco’s smile brightened.

“I’ll help you get into the wheel.”

Your POV

This was it. 

This was what was going to spur you to kill Marco and everyone else who had gathered to watch you walk on the stupid wheel. It didn’t matter how, you were going to find a way to do it. They were all going to die and it wasn’t because they were jeering or leering at you. 

No, it was worse.

They were encouraging you. 

“THIS FUCKING SUCKS!” you yelled at the small crowd of Commanders, your face already hot. You were both embarrassed and already tired so your face had no chance of getting any less red. You’d only been walking for ten minutes but it felt like an hour.

“Luna, calm down. Save your breath for walking yoi,” Marco said, leaning against the wall near the wheel. He’d taken up his position to discourage anyone else from getting on with you, though you didn’t think he’d admit it. 

“You’re doing great, girlie!” Vista said, extending a scythe in an approximation of a thumbs up.

“GO AWAY!” you yelled back, running out of breath as you walked. OK, so maybe Marco had a point about your health. It wasn’t like there was tremendous space for walking or running on Lafftale. Besides, it was boring to walk in circles endlessly there. So, yeah, you couldn’t walk for a long time. But no one had cared until now. 

“Only a bit longer! You got this!” encouraged Blenheim from behind Marco.

“THERE’S NOTHING INTERESTING HAPPENING! YOU’VE ALL SEEN ME WALK BEFORE!” you objected again. You wished you could turn to face the wall so you didn’t see them but there was no way to walk other than forward. Like Ace had said, the wheel only went as fast as you walked. But as you continued to walk, the wheel continued to turn, making it so you had to keep walking. It sucked so hard and you hated it so much. 

“Five more minutes, Luna. You can have a treat after for a job well done yoi,” Marco said placidly, sharpening his talons. It was easy for him to say – he wasn’t the one on the fucking wheel. Though, based on what you’d seen of Marco, he didn’t need it like you did. If you had the power to vaporize him with your mind he’d be dust in an instant. 

“Five more minutes, Luna,” you mocked in a high, quiet voice to yourself. Marco hid his smile behind his mouth for a moment before frowning, which only made you angrier.

“Don’t mistake my recent leniency for a tolerance of disrespect. You wouldn’t want me to punish you here, would you?” Marco threatened.

“I’M SORRY AND I’M ALREADY BEING PUNISHED!” 

End Notes:

Luna is figuring it out, give her time. It’s not been long for her, only a couple hours since Marco changed his habits. I took some liberties with Teech. He’s disguised (kinda) as a Cnidarian rn but he’s not actually one what a stinker. And also she has to go in the hamster wheel bc i think it's funny. Does anyone else hate when people are giving encouragement at times like that or it's just me and Luna?

After Dragon confirmed your worst fears, you shut yourself off to the world, focusing only on what you could produce for the Revolutionary Army. You spent every second of your time in your lab and reacted like a wild animal when anyone tried to stop you. You knew you were lashing out but you couldn’t stop yourself from your violent reactions. Even Dragon had backed off after you shrank his whiskey and hid it until he let you back in your lab. You had the sense that everyone was concerned for you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.  You didn’t want to hear any pithy sayings, or get a pat on the arm, or pulled into a hug or anything like that.  No, there was no more time.

Everyone was scared for and of you, but they didn’t grasp the full impact of what the world had seen. No one did. Sabo’s death was destroying you from the inside, but the pressure to defend the free world was crushing you. The power that Imu and the World Government had shown was incomprehensible, something that you’d never thought you would witness in your lifetime. 

You alone could come up with something to help fight the World Government, to undo the damage you’d already wrought in the world. Dragon said that you were all working together, but what could they do against a weapon like that? No, you needed to work and create a solution to that horrible weapon. And how could you rest when so many people’s lives were at stake? You didn’t dare to take any time off – you needed to crack how the World Government had powered those weapons and quickly.

So you holed up in your lab day after day, endlessly toiling to understand the Mother Flame and the ancient weapons it was powering. Yes, your constant working was self destructive, but you didn’t care. You would rather spend your time working and thinking about your discoveries than have to process your feelings about Sabo and his death.

It wasn’t long after he left that you came to terms with your true feelings for him – you were hopelessly in love with Sabo. Yes, your meeting had come with a rocky start but by now you couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t include Sabo. Which made the news of his tragic and untimely death all the worse – you’d missed your opportunity. Someone had said something about more fish in the sea, but you knew better. There was only one person for you, and unfortunately, he was no longer.

So any second that wasn’t being consumed with work had you wracked with guilt and regret. How could you have let things end that way between you and Sabo? Sabo had given his life to free the people of the world and you couldn’t even be brave enough to admit your romantic feelings to him. Every time you thought about Sabo you’d end up in tears so you forced yourself to push him to the side, to deal with him later, once you finally cracked the Mother Flame.

Ace had called a few times, saying something about Sabo’s vivre paper, but you ignored the calls and let it go to message. You were sure Ace was having an extremely difficult time with the loss of his brother and needed support, but you were feeling selfish. You didn’t want to talk to Ace, you didn’t want to talk to Dragon, you didn’t want to do anything but bury yourself in work in the hope that it would kill the overwhelming grief and regret that stabbed at you every day. And without anyone to stop you, you worked until you passed out and then began the process again. 

But right now you actually felt somewhat alright. You must have fallen asleep on the floor rather than on your desk this time, you thought as you stretched your limbs out. Your hand was resting on something soft – was that a pillow? You opened up your eyes a little more and tried to rub at the other. Something was amiss – what happened before you went to sleep? Had someone finally dragged you out of the lab? Were you still asleep?

Looking around, your heart fell as you saw where you were. You were in Sabo’s room, the one right next to your own. When Sabo had first left, you’d spent your nights sleeping in his bed rather than your own. You deluded yourself into thinking you could still feel his warmth and smell his particular smoky scent, no matter how foolish the notion was. It was better than sleeping in your own room, alone, for the first time in however many months. Loneliness pricked at you night after night, but you had thoughts of Sabo returning home to keep you sated and happy. 

However, after the destruction of Lulusia, you’d taken to living in the lab rather than having to come back and see Sabo’s belongings time after time. Everything in his room was one more reminder of your failures, both personal and professional. You hadn’t ever confessed to him, and you hadn’t prevented the destruction of an entire nation at the hands of the World Government. You didn’t deserve better than living like a mangy dog. 

Sabo’s room felt more like a slap in the face than the gentle caress it had before, and you were too cowardly to confront the realities once more. So instead, you stayed in your microscopic lab, flagellating yourself by sleeping on the floor or on your desk. Sabo would have reprimanded you, but he wasn’t around to do that any longer.

As your thoughts turned back towards Sabo (as they always did) you brought your finger to your mouth and found them all bandaged. You picked at one of the bandages, trying to remember which one was the least bitten. At some point you had taken to bandaging them, since your fingers were bleeding all over your papers. But you usually left one available, your need to worry at your skin too overpowering to allow your fingers to heal. 

Instead, you looked out the window for the first time. Like your room, Sabo’s was arranged so that you could easily see out of your right eye without turning your head. It was one of the small details that you’d never think of, but that he always did. Your heart constricted with the thoughts of Sabo and his cleverness, his thoughtfulness, and his intelligence. That was all gone now, and you had to go back to work. Luckily, you could summon Dream Sabo at will now, who could be your companion until you finally snapped your tether to reality.

Wait, hadn’t something happened with Dream Sabo yesterday? You rubbed your forehead, trying to remember exactly what your dream had been. Even though Dream Sabo always hurt your heart when you woke, you didn’t want the hallucinations to stop. It was merely wish fulfillment, you knew that, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him to be real for the few moments you could still have him. It was delusional and self destructive, but you didn’t care. 

At first, you only saw Dream Sabo when you were asleep. You did some quick research on lucid dreaming and began interacting with your Dream Sabo that way. But you realized you were starting to lose it when Sabo started appearing as hallucinations while you were awake. It was a welcome change from the loneliness that you felt and you often talked to him or did other activities. Dream Sabo was your near constant companion. He was your outlet for everything you wished you could have said or done. You were aware that he was an illusion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. 

Thinking back to the previous night, Dream Sabo had been the most elaborate and wonderful creation you’d ever made, complete with sensation and smell. Dream Sabo had finally convinced you that he had come home again and that he was back in your arms. You didn’t go as far as you normally did, only kissing and some light fondling, but that was OK. Even the dreams with conversation were a respite from the emotions that threatened to break you. Your heart constricted at the thought of Sabo coming home. That was always the worst part – waking up.

You turned over in the bed, your overworked brain thinking you’d caught his scent one last time. Tears pricked your vision as you inhaled deeply – Sabo was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. You’d begged him not to trick you again, but your wishful thinking overpowered your loneliness time and again. 

Last night, like always, you told Sabo that you loved him and that you regretted not telling him sooner. You felt a tear tracking down your cheek as you remembered his warmth, his smile, and even his stare. You almost hoped you dreamed of him like that again, but it made living in the real world so much harder. Koala had told you that you needed to accept his death, but her words had made you too upset to listen to. You’d enlarged her hat to cover her before she could continue patronizing you. 

You looked down and humphed – you had changed your clothes before you went to sleep. Normally, you wore Sabo’s old blue shirt, but you had changed for a clean white one and nothing else. Eh, what did you care? You were probably due for a change of clothes anyway, and definitely a shower. 

You gave a heavy sigh in preparation for the day (looking out the window, it seemed it was late morning). Back to the grind, you thought, swinging your legs over the bed. 

“Time for work,” you said to yourself, trying to remember where exactly you’d left off on your experiments. You were getting closer to cracking the Mother Flame day by day but you were still quite far from finishing the project. As soon as your feet made contact with the ground, your head swiveled towards the sound of a creaking chair. You weren’t alone? You internally cursed, your drive towards a singular goal was always the cause of trouble.

“Absolutely not,” a familiar voice stated, set with determination. You smiled at your man, Dream Sabo coming into view as you turned your head farther to the left. He was sitting at the small writing desk by the wall, going through the stacks of papers that had been left for him. He looked like he always had, tall and slim, his blond hair over his bad eye, his familiar gloves on both hands. Even his goggled top hat resting on his desk, a detail that wasn’t always there in your dreams. You really must be feeling better to get something like that down.

“Hiya Sabo,” you said brightly, stretching your arms overhead. “Did you change my clothes?” you asked, mildly curious. Obviously, you had been the one to do it but maybe Dream Sabo would have something interesting to say.

“I did, yes. And I think this is a new record for you, you slept for 18 hours,” Sabo said, almost proudly. He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed near you, watching you calmly.

“No wonder I feel refreshed," you said with a hum, your mind already wandering back to your experiments. 

“Sunny, do you know where you are? What’s going on?” he asked, concern etched in the furrowing of his brows. You laughed a little, he was being so cute today. It seemed like you were really in Sabo’s room, so you’d have to make your way back to the lab. You could pass by the mess hall on the way and get fresh coffee, something you weren’t sure you’d had in a while.

“Yeah, I do. I think I’m actually in Sabo’s room, I must have wandered back here. It’s ok though, I can find my lab again. I probably left it outside,” you said with a shrug. “What’s going on is that I need to get back to work and continue working –” Sabo’s hand reached for yours, holding your hand loosely.

“No. You’re not working today. You’re in really bad shape, Sunny. You haven’t been taking care of yourself at all,” he continued, squeezing your hand.

“Aw, quit it Sabo,” you griped without heat. What was he going to do – stop you? Sitting up, you stretched your legs and prepared to get back to it. No sense in delaying what needed to be done, excellent Dream Sabo or not.

“Well, I’m off –”

“No. You’re not,” Sabo said, serious this time as his fingertips settled against your upper chest, preventing you from getting out of the bed. You laughed in his face, you loved when you imagined him this way. It was so similar to how Sabo actually was that it was impossible not to enjoy when he stood up to you in your imagination.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take a shower first. Is that better? And are you joining me?” you asked with a chuckle, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. Sabo sputtered, his eyes fixed to your naked thighs that lifting your arms revealed. You weren’t wearing anything underneath either, you remembered as cool air hit your ass. Sabo hadn’t missed that detail either, as his gaze was riveted to you.

“Oh, uh. I – yes. Yes. Yes, of course,” Sabo said, his attention not wavering as you started unbuttoning his shirt. He was already in the process of removing his gloves when he shook himself slightly. His hair fell back over his bad eye as he looked up at you.

“Wait, no. No, Sunny. I’m not joining you, not yet,” he corrected himself. You shifted your weight to one foot and jutted your hip, confused by his actions. Dream Sabo always joined you in the shower…

“What? But you always shower with me when you’re around. Do you not love me anymore?” you said with a pout. What an erratic Dream Sabo, you thought. He stood up and quickly reached for you, cupping your face in his warm hands. You smiled as you looked up at his sincere face, a little sorry for having teased him so much. Dream Sabo was only a dream, after all. 

“I love you with every fiber of my being. I would love to join you in the shower. I’ve dreamed of it myself many, many times. But I can’t do it now. Not like this. You still think I’m dead,” Sabo said with a frown.

“Sabo, don’t,” you said, backing away from him slowly. This Dream Sabo was persistent in telling you he was real, something that had bothered you the night before too. Dream Sabo stood up next to you, and took your hands in his own. 

“Sunny. Listen to me. I know it’s hard, I know. But I’m here. I’m real,” Dream Sabo continued. Your eyes bounced around his face as you bit your lip.

“Stop,” you said hesitantly, trying to pull your hands away from his. Dream Sabo’s strength was more significant than you remembered, you were unable to extricate yourself from his grasp. But Dream Sabo couldn’t stop you from doing anything…Dream Sabo never went against your wishes…Dream Sabo didn’t ever frown at you…

“No, I can’t. Sunny, please. Please, listen and understand. I’m not a hallucination,” he said, using one hand to push some of your hair off your face. You frowned at him, you didn’t want to hear all this again. 

“Send me away,” he said, looking into your eyes. 

“What?” you asked, taken aback. Dream Sabo never, ever asked to be sent away. You stared back into his eyes, your brow furrowing. His were brighter than you remembered them, the milky one reminding you of Uranus. Wait…Uranus…Lulusia…the mother flame…

“Hold on, I need to write something down,” you said, your moment with Dream Sabo slipping from your mind. Your eyes landed on the papers on Dream Sabo’s desk, where he’d been writing when you woke up. You pulled your hands from Sabo’s and walked towards his desk, needing to jot your idea down before you forgot it.

“Sunny, please. This is important –”

“No, not now. I had a thought about the ancient weapons and I need to write it –” Your words trailed off as you looked at the papers on his desk. Dream Sabo had written correspondences before, that wasn’t new. You’d seen Real Sabo doing that many times, so it was an activity your mind supplied occasionally. You spread the papers over the desk, glancing at them. Some of the names you recognized but some of them you’d never heard of before. It was strange to see Dream Sabo writing to people you didn’t know, but maybe your mind had supplied some new information? But Dream Sabo only knew what you knew… You brought your finger up to your mouth, remembering at the last moment that all of your fingertips were bandaged.

“What’s wrong?” Dream Sabo said, standing behind you. You felt his familiar warmth behind you, his breath fanning over your neck.

“I don’t know – you’re being weird today,” you said, while looking for a pen and blank piece of paper. You had a headache brewing, you needed to get some coffee. Dream Sabo kissed your exposed shoulder while you pushed things around on his desk.

“I have the pen. There’s nothing else to write with here,” Dream Sabo said, toying with the ends of your hair.

“Give it,” you demanded, holding out your hand. But Dream Sabo never interfered with your physical area outside of your dream, he wasn’t able to…

“No. Send me away,” Sabo said behind you, whispering into your ear. You turned to him and rested your forehead on his shoulder, sighing heavily. One of his hands settled on your waist and you leaned against him, enjoying how solid he was. You could really use another nap, you thought, but there wasn’t any time. The lab was calling for you and you needed to keep working.

“I don’t want to. Life is better when you’re with me. Tell me where the pen is,” you murmured, looking up at him. You twined your arms around his neck, enjoying the comfort he was providing. 

“No. But you can get rid of me, right? If I’m a hallucination, you can vanish me,” Dream Sabo said softly, his other hand running up and down your back. But Dream Sabo never said he was a hallucination…

“I can, yeah. When I need my full focus I send you away,” you mumbled, your words muffled by his clothing as your forehead rested against his shoulder.

“So do it. I’m not going to give you the pen until you do,” Dream Sabo said, cradling you against his chest. Even as he told you to get rid of him, he was drawing you closer. Your mind sputtered as you half heartedly tried to will Sabo away. He was being annoying, and you really did have to get back to the lab. Maybe you’d wake up and you’d still be in your lab, like a dream in a dream. It had happened to you a few times and it was always disorienting. But then again, you were usually working when you were asleep or awake, so it made little difference to you. 

…but wait….Dream Sabo hadn’t gone anywhere when you willed him away. You still felt his warm skin under yours, could hear his heart beating strongly. You could even smell his smoky scent, the one you tried to find in his old clothes and belongings.

Did that mean…?

Sabo POV

When Sabo and his brothers were young, Ace had frequent bouts of sleep walking. After a few nights filled with trials, errors, and blows to the head, Sabo found that the best way of getting Ace peacefully back to bed was by calmly assisting him without rousing him. He stopped trying to wake Ace up and instead guided him back to where he needed to be, allowing Ace’s body to relax and not wake in a fight or flight mode. 

Sabo had taken a similar approach to you once you woke from your lengthy sleep. You were still overtired and underfed, Sabo wasn’t under the illusion that one long burst of sleep would heal you, but at least your body had rested. You were brilliant, and your mind would work tirelessly to put together the pieces of the puzzle to finally convince you that he was real. There had already been a few glances that Sabo had interpreted as you thinking through the situation a little at a time. Sabo didn’t think there was a need to overwhelm you and bombard you with information when you’d figure it out at your own pace.

But after you’d said the shower comment, Sabo knew he had to push you a little bit. This was the second time you’d unknowingly teased him with a shower since he’d met you, and he didn’t know if he could bear a third. He wanted to gently prod you closer to the goal you were heading towards with a simple request.

“So do it. I’m not going to give you the pen until you do,” Sabo said, holding you close to his chest. Despite having slept for so long, your endurance was absolutely abysmal. You looked like you were ready to pass out again, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if you did. There had been absolutely no accountability for you while he was gone and you’d taken everything to the extreme. You were right back where you started, perhaps worse. 

“Sabo,” you whispered, looking him over all at once. Your hands roved over his back, before pushing away slightly to grab his face. There was a panicked look to your eyes, something half wild stirring within you. Sabo relaxed his shoulders – there was the crack in your delusion he was looking for.

“I’m here with you,” Sabo said, wishing he could feel every inch of your skin with his own.

“S-sabo,” you repeated, your face crumpling. Sabo was prepared for more tears, though it broke his heart each time you cried. He never wanted to be the reason for your sadness, even though this was unavoidable.

“Wh-why didn’t you sleep in bed with m-me?” was the first question that tumbled out of your mouth as your chest heaved. Sabo laughed lightly even as you ugly cried into your hands, your back shaking with the intensity of your tears. He guided you to sit on the bed and sat beside you, taking your hands again in his own and pulling them away from your face. Your fingers probed his hands, like you were unsure if he was truly there with you or not.

“Five months apart and that’s what you ask me?” he said, leaning in to kiss you. You stared at him, barely remembering to kiss him back in time. Your mouth was hanging open, like you couldn’t parse what was happening.

“And for the record, I did sleep in bed with you. I slept for about 10 hours next to you, but you’ve been sleeping for about 18. You kept trying to get up and I had to keep holding you so you’d sleep longer. Sunny, we have to talk about your health,” Sabo said with a frown. Your lower lip wobbled for a moment before you flung yourself into his arms, your scant body weight crashing against his own. Sabo landed on his back on the bed as you toppled over him, hugging him tightly.

“SabOoOoO –” you wailed, unable to control yourself any longer. Tears streamed down your face as you cried, clutching his shirt. Sabo ran his hands up and down your back soothingly, cooing at you as you cried. This was the second time in two days you’d soaked through his shirt, but he’d take 100 more if it meant you understood he was actually alive. You pushed your hand into his hair, turning his head to you. You pressed your lips to his and wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him in for a kiss. But your mind was already working overtime, and you broke the kiss to ask him questions. 

“But how are you alive? How did you survive the ancient weapon? Did you see the Mother Flame? How did you get back here? Why did you –” Sabo kissed you again, stifling your questions. His tongue swirled against your own as his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you closer. You groaned into his mouth, grinding against him. Sabo broke the kiss to answer the very questions you asked. He knew you wouldn’t stop for long and he wanted to answer you before it tunneled deeper into your mind. 

“I wasn’t on the island, I was on a boat nearby. I didn’t see the weapon directly, I only saw the destruction it caused. There was a rebellion on the island so some of the people were with me on the boat. They’re here on the island now,” Sabo explained, his thumbs stroking the exposed skin of your thighs.

“But besides that, we have some things to discuss,” Sabo said, turning serious for a moment. You bit your lip and looked away, like you knew what he was going to say. Sabo chucked your chin, pointing your gaze back to him. 

“I wasn’t able to keep my promise to you,” Sabo said softly, pushing some of your hair off your face. 

“Wh- what are you talking about? What promise?” you asked, still holding him tightly. 

“My promise to take care of you. I left you alone and you deteriorated. You’re in really poor health, Sunny. I can’t bear to see you like this,” Sabo said quietly before kissing you again. He couldn’t get enough of you – you had been on his mind since he’d left and you were finally back in his arms again. He didn’t mean to kick you when you were down but his concern for your health overrode everything else. You waved him off with a hand.

“Oh, uh. Well, I did that on my own. And it wasn’t like you meant to have everyone think you uh –” 

“Died,” Sabo supplied.

“Right,” you said sheepishly. “Well, I was upset and thought…well you know. I guess I went a little overboard, huh?” you said with a guilty smile. Sabo smiled back before shifting positions to roll on top of you. One of his hands was planted by your head and the other stroked along your exposed hip.

“That just means I can’t really die because you’ll be joining me shortly,” Sabo said with a small laugh before bending down to gently suck along your neck. Your breath was already hitching as he kissed you, your chest flushing and your nipples puckering. Sabo desperately wanted to continue but there was something he needed to know first. 

“Yesterday, you said that you had an immense regret. Something that you confessed to your hallucination more than once. Do you remember that?” Sabo asked gently, his hands leaving your thighs to stroke your cheekbones. You nodded your head, looking into his eyes. 

“Well, I mean. I don’t remember yesterday exactly. Time is a little, er, loose for me right now. But I know what my regret is - er, was,” you replied.

“Please. Tell me again,” Sabo whispered. You licked your lips before looking deep into his eyes.

“I love you, Sabo. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he said, before leaning down to kiss you tenderly.

The End <3

“Who are you?” you demanded again, pointing your gun at the wall. Looking towards where the voice was emanating, you couldn’t see anything amiss. You were still alone in an unused room, on some forgotten wing of Level 6. The Voice was clearly a prisoner, and given the shitty construction of Impel Down, you weren’t surprised that the sound traveled through the walls. 

You bit your lip as you thought about what to do. You weren’t familiar with the inmates on this level; you worked on Level 2. You mostly fed the beasts when they couldn’t catch inmates, or cleaned out their various living areas. It wasn’t a bad job, but being locked away in an underwater prison for months at a time with the world’s worst criminals wasn’t great either. 

“You’ve plateaued on this piece. I hear the same mistakes repeated over and over. It’s incredibly grating. You’ve stalled out. Stand up straight and play it again from the beginning,” the stern voice commanded. You pursed your lips and looked back at the sheet music. Unfortunately the voice was correct, you had stalled on the piece. After your contract with the Marines was over, you were finally going to follow your dreams. You wanted to secure an audition for a spot in Elegia’s prestigious music school, and you wanted this to be your selection. But something in the piece was eluding you and you hadn’t been able to crack it. 

“Again,” the voice commanded. Something about the voice made you want to comply, and really, what did you have to lose? There wasn’t anyone in the room with you and maybe the Voice had some insight. You slung your gun on your back and reset yourself. You poised your hands over the strings and centered yourself. Straightening your spine, you paid extra attention to your leg posture as you began the piece. You weren’t more than 10 measures in when you heard the voice again.

“Stop. Better, but not by much. Loosen your thumb, you’re gripping the neck of the violin like it’s your gun,” the Voice said. You looked down and found your thumb squeezing the neck of the violin tightly, just as he had said. The amateur mistake had you flushing even as you relaxed your fingers. 

“Well, I’m stressed,” you grumbled before loosening your thumb. You belatedly realized you didn’t need to explain yourself to a prisoner in Impel Down, but it had already left your mouth. 

“Irrelevant. Again, and stand up straight,” the Voice commanded. You squared your shoulders and stood in perfect posture. You took a deep breath and pulled the bow for the first note.

“For god’s sake, bend your knees slightly. Don’t lock them out like a child,” the Voice scolded, like he was exasperated with you.

“How can you tell-”

“Again. Stop wasting my time.”

You played over and over again for the Voice, beginning your playing only to be interrupted time and again. “Again,” the voice said as you raised your bow. Your arms were achy and heavy – you’d been practicing far harder than you had since you became a Marine. You took a deep breath and began again, this time getting a good fifteen measures in before the voice stopped you. By now your whole back was covered in a sheen of sweat. You hadn’t had such rigorous training since you had first started music, but you’d made such progress that you weren’t complaining. Well, not much, but some progress. And that was more than you’d had for some time.

“Do you know the title of the piece you’re butchering?” the Voice asked. He almost sounded like he was twirling a cigar in his hand, though that was only your overactive imagination at work. 

“Alabastan Nights,” you replied with a frown.

“Correct. Have you ever been to Alabasta?” the Voice asked.

“No, I’m from the North Blue,” you explained, looking over the dog eared pages of music you’d been poring over for so long.

“Then why did you pick it? Certainly not because you’ve mastered it already,” the Voice scoffed.

“I liked the theme,” you said, already fearing what the Voice would tell you next. 

“You liked the theme? Bah, no wonder you’re stalled. That’s part of your problem. You aren’t feeling the piece, you’re merely trying to perform it. It’s a task to you, you’re not letting the music flow through you. You have no imagination, no visualization, no passion,” the Voice drawled. The Voice’s words had tears pricking at your lashes, so you were glad he couldn’t see you from where you were. You hadn’t been reduced to so little since you were a child, first studying the violin. 

“Close your eyes,” the Voice commanded.

“OK, I am,” you agreed easily as you kept them open. Surely he couldn’t hear if you –

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t tolerate liars,” the Voice snapped at you. Your back instantly straightened as you nearly dropped your bow. The voice was commanding and clearly the speaker was used to be listened to. 

“Wh – how did you know?!” you asked, your mouth hanging open. Was this guy telepathic?

“Years of experience with unruly and disobedient…musicians. Now do as I say and close your eyes,” the voice ordered, though you thought you heard a hint of amusement in his tone. You begrudgingly shut your eyes since he could somehow tell if you weren’t.

“Imagine yourself in the endless swirling sands of Alabasta. The sun beats down on you from above, heating you from within even as it sets slowly in the West. With the sunset, the sands before you look like an ocean – vast, untameable, lethal, and breathtakingly beautiful all at once. You reach down to pick up a handful of warm sand, each grain unique and yet completely like the others as you roll them through your fingertips. Each is tiny and ultimately insignificant until they are pooled with infinite others of their own kind. The grains easily slip away, like water through a sieve, as indomitable as the air we breathe.” 

You were mesmerized, practically able to feel the grains between your fingertips. Was the voice capable of using some kind of magic on you? You continued to sit silently, waiting for the deep, rich voice to continue weaving the vision before you.

“The air cools rapidly, a chill goes down your spine. Soon you will be frozen to the core in this ruthless landscape. The night is not a reprieve from the day, far from it. But in this twilight, the sands of Alabasta seem ethereal. The sand turns a deep blue, in contrast to the endless hues of yellow of the day. You look over the endless mounds in wonder, in awe. The desert sands are home to some, enemy to most, yet strikingly beautiful to all. She shares her beauty with those who can withstand her cruelty, those who have earned her esteem. The sun sets and you are left under the stars, their multitude echoing the one beneath your feet. And there you stand, as meaningless as a grain of sand, yet somehow connected. Those are Alabastan nights,” the Voice said, drawing to a conclusion. You sat there silent, the imagery practically alive in your mind. 

“You have innate talent, though you need much more practice and polishing. Return tomorrow at the same time so we can continue your lessons,” the Voice commanded, as if you were a cadet. You were already nodding before remembering that violin wasn’t your primary job at Impel Down.

“Oh, uh. I have a late shift tomorrow, I don’t think I can come after that. I’ll be tired –”

“You’ll be here,” the Voice stated, like it was already a foregone conclusion. You swallowed and answered before you had time to think.

“Alright.”

You spent nearly all of the next day mulling over the events of the previous night. In fact, you were so distracted that a puzzle scorpion almost skewered you for not putting its food down fast enough. Who was behind the voice? Why were they helping you? What did they want in return? Whoever it was hadn’t asked for help or anything else in exchange for their services. Hell, he didn’t even ask your name, nor you for his. He had only given you (mostly) constructive criticism about your playing. 

And honestly?

He had helped you a lot. You hadn’t had time to practice yet today, but you could feel your growth playing the piece. But no one in Impel Down did something for nothing, and you didn’t want to owe anything to the Voice. On the other hand, you’d only have one shot at for an audition in Elegia, so you’d take all the help you could get. You mulled it over while putting out raw meat for the manticores, unable to make a decision.

You ambled into the breakroom during your fifteen, heading straight for the coffee bar. It was terrible, as was Marine standard, but regardless of the taste you’d need a ton of it to stay awake for your lesson tonight.

“Hiya,” you said, greeting your fellow Level 2 guards. For being a maximum security prison, most of the Marines stationed there were pretty chill. You were on good terms with a lot of people there, but some took the job to a whole new level. 

“What’s up?” Tiffany asked, sipping on a mug of coffee of her own.

“How’s it goin’?” Jerry chimed in, crunching on some fish crackers. 

“Hey Tiff, hey Jer,” you said, giving them a little wave. Your mind was still on the Voice as you poured yourself a cup of black coffee, blowing across the top to cool it down. The time for your lesson was approaching and you had to decide whether you’d be showing or not. You sat down at the table with Tiffany and Jerry, absently drinking your coffee while holding the stirrer off to the side.

“Question for you two – do you know if any of the prisoners play violin? Like, professional level?” you asked, your thoughts still on that goddamn voice. It was quiet for a moment before your attention snapped back to them as they burst out in laughter.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, pouting a little.

“We don’t ask their hobbies before torturing them,” Jerry said before laughing again.

“Yeah, I mean, I always wanna who’s gonna play the piano for me before releasing the basilisk,” Tiffany chimed in, her giggle turning into a guffaw. You frowned, stirring your coffee again. In retrospect, it was kind of a weird question but you didn’t know how else to gather the information. You didn’t work on Level 6, and you didn’t know any of the guards who did. It wasn’t like you could waltz into Magellan’s office and ask him to list off who he thought had the most classical music training.

“Whatever,” you griped, looking down into the brown liquid. “I’m gonna go finish my shift.” You took the mug with you as you left the room, you’d return it later. The time to meet with the Voice was getting closer, you really had to decide what to do.

About an hour later, you were plodding your way down the stairs, your violin case in your hand. Ultimately, the Voice had helped you a lot and it wasn’t like there was anyone else in Impel Down who you could ask. You were getting aid from one of the worst criminals in the world, so what? If it got you into Elegia Musical University, that’s all that mattered. You took a deep breath before entering the room.

“You’re late,” the Voice boomed from beyond the wall.

“Tch. I was working, like I told you,” you grumbled, setting down your case.

“Torturing prisoners on Level 4?” the Voice asked, curiosity in his tone.

“No, I work on level 2. I take care of the animals,” you replied easily, before cringing. You probably shouldn’t tell the prisoner anything about yourself, right? The voice was silent for a moment, as if he was adding that to his memory bank. Whatever, it wasn’t like he could escape or do anything with that information. 

“I see. Now, begin warming up. We have much work ahead of us,” the Voice snapped, making you jump. Even though you were the guard and the Voice belonged to a prisoner, you quickly did as the Voice commanded you. You had a fleeting thought to ask him his name, but instead began warming up. The less you knew about each other, the better, right?

Despite the intensity of the training that the Voice put you through over the next couple of hours, you listened to all the advice he had to tell you. Through his advice and criticism, you were finally able to play the piece better and break through the block that had been stopping you previously. By the time the few hours were up, you were drop dead tired, but felt more energized about your music than you had in years.

“Again. One last time,” the Voice commanded you, telling you to pick up where you’d left off on the development. “And slower,” the Voice chided you.

“Yeah, yeah. Practice makes perfect,” you complained quietly.

“Perfect practice makes perfect,” the Voice corrected you yet again. How on earth did he hear everything you said? You groaned and hung your head even as your fingers gripped your bow more tightly, preparing to play again.

“You need to practice more slowly for precision. Once you’ve mastered the piece, you can play at the correct tempo. Now with my voice to keep tempo,” he said before intoning for you like a human metronome.

Bum BUM bum BUM bum BUM

The sound was so smooth and resonant, you could have listened to him hum forever. It was the vocal equivalent of being wrapped in silk, the feeling skittering across your skin. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine what he looked like. He was probably taller than you, most of the prisoners were in Impel Down. He didn’t sound young, so he was at least in his late thirties. He had a loud commanding voice, and a huge bounty to go with it. Other than that, you allowed your mind to wander as you listened to the sonorous sound. 

“Enjoying yourself?” the Voice asked, breaking you from your reverie.

“Honestly, yeah,” you answered honestly. “You have a rich voice.” You had almost said he had a sexy voice, but saved yourself the embarrassment. The Voice laughed from beyond the wall, the sound hitting your soul even deeper than the humming had. Your mind supplied the ever helpful image of hearing that in a large canopy bed, as a mysterious figure approached…

“Be that as it may, I’m not doing this for my health. Play,” he instructed. You shook your head, the spell around you broken for now. You began again, this time imagining the sands of Alabasta, the freezing night, the vast dunes so familiar and so foreign. The music swept through you, pulling you along with the vision of the cooling sands, the stars shining bright overhead. Before you knew it, you were nearly done with the piece, the first time the Voice hadn’t interrupted you after a few measures. You concentrated and finished the piece, before lowering your bow. For once the Voice didn’t say anything immediately afterwards.

“Well? How was that?” you asked, already seeking the approval of the voice. Even if you thought you performed better, you wouldn’t feel satisfied without the voice giving you some amount of positive feedback.

“Barely acceptable,” the Voice said smoothly. It might have been scant praise but to you it was like being told you were getting the position of first violin in the Elegia orchestra. It sounded to you like whoever was behind the Voice was smirking, but that could have been your imagination.

“Really?! You think so?” you gushed, wanting to twirl in giddiness. You didn’t, of course, you were a Marine. But this kind of praise had your motor running. You’d always done better with praise than with criticism, but the latter was a necessary evil to improve your playing.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean. You’ve been a good little Marine, haven’t you? Obeying my orders,” the voice drawled. You wanted to preen before him, the words feeling like a long stroke of a hand down your bare back. 

“Yes, I’ve been good,” you agreed, thinking of all the advice you’d assimilated into your playing. Your music had never sounded so smooth before, so confident and dextrous.

“So you have. And good little Marines get rewarded with more lessons,” he continued. You smiled, wondering what the prisoner on the other side of the wall looked like. Maybe he wasn’t close to dying yet and was one of the sexier inmates. Your coworkers talked all the time about the best looking prisoners there, maybe he was one of them. He was down in level 6, so he was clearly dangerous…maybe dangerously sexy, based on that voice. 

All of a sudden it felt like a bucket of water poured over your head. What the actual fuck were you thinking?! You were strutting around like a cat in heat because some criminal on the other side of the wall told you that your playing was barely acceptable. Surely you had more respect for yourself than that, right? You needed to be firm, to set boundaries that you wouldn’t break. You weren’t going to be toyed with, no matter how helpful the sexy voice was.

“Be here tomorrow night. Same time,” the Voice stated.

“No, I need to practice on my own,” you said, wishing you sounded more assured than you were. The voice didn’t reply, the silence growing louder with each passing moment. Unlike the earlier silence of approval, this one held disappointment and displeasure. After about a minute, the weight was threatening to squash you completely, or at least you felt that way. Your people pleasing nature had you biting your lip, wishing the voice would say something. A few seconds later, you cracked. 

“Alright, I’ll be here.”

“Good girl.”

The next day you were really kicking yourself over agreeing to another lesson with the Voice. And just like the previous day, after your work was done, you found yourself back in the storage room, listening with rapt attention to everything the Voice told you to do. You preferred to work in smaller blocks of time than the two or so hours you were spending with the Voice, but it wasn’t like there was another option for meeting. Tomorrow you’d be strong and say no, but one more night couldn’t hurt, right?

“You’re improving,” the Voice commended you after your third practice was over. You felt heat rise in your cheeks – the Voice praising you yet again.

“Thank you. It’s a pleasant change to hear you telling me something nice,” you said meekly, glad the voice couldn’t see you from behind the wall.

“Good girls get praise,” the voice purred, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You felt yourself hoping he would continue to extoll your virtues. He said nothing, but the encounter left you wanting more – more instruction and more praise from the Voice. And the Voice was helping you so greatly, you didn’t think you could tear yourself away at this point. Besides, there was only a little left to work on before you wouldn’t need him anymore. So you made your peace with your decision to go down to Level 6 the following night for just one more practice.

But one practice turned into two. Which turned into three. You kept promising yourself that each night would be the last, that there would be no more lessons, no more sexy voice after you mastered just this one small part. You would go down the stairs each night, mentally preparing yourself to tell the voice that you were done, that you weren’t coming down anymore, that you were going to do the rest of the work on your own. But each night you descended the stairs, the deep, sonorous voice practically calling you like a siren song. 

Which led you to the next night.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

By the end of three weeks, you were practically racing down the stairs during the wee hours of the morning to get to your next lesson. The Voice continued to help you in your playing, and your Alabastan Nights improved significantly. But secretly you found yourself looking forward to the “good girl” kind of compliments that the Voice sometimes bestowed on you. It was a little embarrassing but the potential to hear the Voice calling you “his good girl,” or how “you listened to him so well,” was enough to get you down to Level 6. And if you thought about the Voice when you weren’t with him, or touched yourself to thoughts of his voice, well, he didn’t need to know that.

Late one night, you were practicing the coda of the piece when the Voice suddenly interrupted you, causing you to stop mid draw of your bow. 

“Quiet. Stop playing and be silent,” the voice said in a sterner tone than usual. You deflated – had you really been playing that poorly?

“I didn’t think I was that bad –” you stopped talking as the voice shushed you.

“No. Something’s happening,” the voice said, sounding strained for a moment.

“Like, with my music or –”

“No. In the prison. Do not play your violin and be quiet,” he hissed at you. Your eyebrows hiked – what was going on? The Voice was harsh at times, but never rude.

“If you don’t want to hear me play, what’s the point of inviting me back –” your words were interrupted by the den den alarms going off. To your immense surprise, the pereperepere sound told you at once that there were unauthorized visitors breaking into the jail. Who would break in you didn’t know, but you did know you had to leave your violin and go to active duty.  Within seconds there were already explosions and Marines yelling, the fighting sounds drawing closer.

Your hands shook as you put away your violin – there hadn’t been a successful break out or in to Impel Down in all its years, so why it was happening now you didn’t know. Still, you weren’t great at combat, only passing the standard tests and certifications needed to work at the prison. You grabbed your gun and walked towards the door, readying yourself for the battle that would surely come.

“Stay here,” the voice commanded you.

“I have to –”

“You are a Level 2 guard in a Level 6 situation. I didn’t train you up for you to become cannon fodder. Stay put and do not make a sound,” he ordered again. There was a large commotion in the hallway, and frankly, you didn’t want to see who it was that had broken into the jail. It sounded like there weren’t any Marines as backup either, you’d be all alone against whoever was crazy enough to willingly enter Impel Down. Sweat beaded on your brow – you were royally fucked.

“Do you really have that many lives to spare?!” you heard a new voice yell outside the room.

“If I give up now, I’m gonna regret it!” a higher voice said. There was a moment of silence before your Voice interrupted.

“But first of all, how can you get off this floor?” the Voice drawled with the same assurance that you’d heard before. The Voice interacted with two others for some time, going back and forth between the three of them. The other people were farther away and your Voice had moved away from you to talk to them. You couldn’t really make out what anyone was saying, only general murmur from the three voices. After a few moments, your Voice returned to the spot you were familiar with, and you were now clearly able to hear him where you had hunkered down.

“Stay here. I’m going to partially block the door so it looks like you were bombarded. No one will think to look inside for a lone Marine. Stay inside and silent until the fighting is over. If you do what I say you’ll be safe,” the voice urged you quietly.

“OK,” you whispered, afraid to say anything else. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode. Based on the sounds you were hearing outside the storage room, that might not be far from what ended up happening to you.

“Goodbye for now,” the Voice said, almost sounding regretful. “I will find you again, my little violinist. I’m not done teaching you.”

Four months later

You were on your fourth run through of the first movement, the notes swimming on the page in front of your eyes. Defeated, you let your bow hang to the side as you pushed the button on the side of your snail, stopping the recording. Sighing heavily, you quickly deleted it, ashamed of how terrible you sounded. 

Ever since the Voice left you, you felt like something vital was missing in your performances. You incorporated everything he had told you, but it just wasn’t the same without the Voice listening. You had a few (well, a lot) daydreams about him, imagining that he would come back and find you like he said he would, but you didn’t actually think that would happen. He was an escaped notorious convict and you were a low level, nothing Marine stationed on some nowhere island out in the middle of the Grand Line. Someone would have to do digging to find you, and frankly, you didn’t think you were worth it.

After the disaster in Impel Down, you and all the remaining guards had been transferred to new bases across the Grand Line. You didn’t care all that much – to you one base was much like the rest. All you needed was a small private room to practice and enough time to prepare for your audition. You were one of only three Marines on the small, peaceful island, and that suited you just fine.

You took a deep breath, trying to mentally go over everything the Voice had taught you. Reaching back to the snail, you pushed the record button before letting out the breath you were holding. Your bow was drawn, your shoulders were squared and you…

Squeaked as you felt something large, cold and metallic pressed against your back through your thin shirt. 

“Slipping back into bad habits without me, hm?” a deep, rich voice intoned. Your breath caught, it was the Voice. Were you hallucinating? Was this complete delusion? A large, calloused hand settled across your neck as the metal pressed against the middle of your back. Fingers with warm metal rings collared your throat easily, though they exerted no pressure. You swallowed thickly, was this how you were going to die? Did he have a gun pointed at you?

“Ah, ah. Maintain proper posture. We’ve talked about this many times,” the Voice chided, pushing you into a completely upright position. You wished you could turn around and face him, but with the metal at your back and his hand around your neck you felt trapped like a little rabbit. Even after you were in place to play, the Voice didn’t remove his hand from across your throat. Instead he gently drummed his fingers lazily along the column of your carotid. 

“I’ve tried to imagine what you look like many times, my little violinist. You’re even lovelier than I expected,” he said, as the scent of tobacco and cardamom hit your nose. Whoever was behind you was large, his body towering over yours from behind. You didn’t have to wonder what he had pressed against your back as he removed it from behind you and set the gleaming metal on your shoulder. Glancing down, you saw an enormous golden hook, the sharp tip lustrous in the early evening light. But the only prisoner in Impel Down that you knew had a hook was…

“Sir Crocodile,” you whispered. Sir Crocodile was an extremely powerful, notorious pirate who was said to have recently partnered with Dracule Mihawk after the dissolution of the Warlord program. Your legs threatened to give out – why had you played with fire for so long?

“Who else?” he asked, his thumb now stroking your jaw gently. Goosebumps spread over your arms as you slowly looked up at him. You saw a face you’d only ever seen on wanted posters – that handsome smirk towering above you now.

“Put away your violin. Our ship is leaving soon,” Crocodile ordered you, as if he was commanding you to play a section over again like at the prison. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you panicked. But really, what were you going to do? Sir Crocodile had a bounty in the billions, and you barely passed basic training. You were going to have to figure out what he wanted and fast. You teetered a little before Crocodile pressed you with a little more force against his chest. He was broad and well muscled, his body engulfing your own. 

“You’re not done with your lessons yet.”