mysteri0uz

Latest Posts by mysteri0uz

I'm gonna cry what the hell💔

Love Against Justice

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader

tags: angst, major character death

You were born into justice— Admiral Akainu’s perfect daughter, raised to obey, to believe that fire could burn the world clean. But then you met him.

Portgas D Ace. Son of the Pirate King. Wild, golden-eyed, and free. He showed you a world beyond orders, beyond duty—a world where you could choose.

You weren’t supposed to love him. He wasn’t supposed to matter. But on the night you met, everything changed.

And when the war came, you had to make the hardest choice of all.

Stand by your father…

Or die for the man who taught you how to live.

Word count: ~4,500 words

my masterlist here ♡

——

The island was supposed to be quiet—just another checkpoint. You were out past curfew, your boots light on the sand, the stars above your only company.

Until he spoke.

“You shouldn’t be walking around here in that uniform, you know. Might give someone ideas.”

You froze, hand hovering over your sword. But the voice wasn’t threatening—just amused.

From the shadows, a man stepped forward. Black tattoo on his back. Orange hat. The moment your eyes met his golden ones, something in your chest shifted.

“Portgas D. Ace,” you said carefully.

He tilted his head. “And you are… a Vice Admiral’s brat?”

You stiffened. “Admiral. I’m his daughter.”

He let out a low whistle. “Didn’t expect Sakazuki to have a kid. You don’t have his scowl.”

Your lips twitched, despite yourself. “I get that a lot.”

He smiled then, soft and crooked. “So what’s a good little Marine doing walking alone?”

“I could ask you the same. You’re a wanted man.”

“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “you haven’t drawn your blade.”

You didn’t. You couldn’t. For some reason, looking at him didn’t feel like facing an enemy.

“I’m not here to fight.”

He looked up at the stars. “Good. Neither am I.”

That night stretched longer than you expected—two hours of talking by the water’s edge. About justice. About pirates. About fathers.

“You trying to make yours proud?” he asked, picking up a shell and tossing it into the waves.

“…Yes.”

He turned to you, serious now. “You know that’s not living, right?”

Your voice faltered. “Then what is?”

He chuckled softly, plucking up another shell. “Living is… waking up and knowing the choices you’re making are your own. Not someone else’s. Not your father’s.”

You stared down at the water. “It’s not that simple. I was raised to believe in justice. That pirates were evil. That anything less than total obedience is weakness.”

Ace didn’t laugh this time. He just nodded. “Sounds lonely.”

You blinked at him. “It is.”

“Then why keep doing it?”

You sighed, fingers curling into fists at your sides. “Because it’s all I’ve ever known. Because I thought if I could just be strong enough, obedient enough, perfect enough—maybe he’d actually look at me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t just another soldier in his fleet.”

Ace was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “You matter without any of that. You shouldn’t have to bleed yourself dry just to earn scraps of love.”

The words hit too hard, too fast. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re free. You get to be who you are. You’re not being crushed under your last name.”

He tilted his head. “You think freedom means not being weighed down? I’ve spent most of my life wondering if I even deserve to exist. Carrying my father’s name like a curse I never asked for.”

You looked at him, startled. “Your father?”

Ace looked away, a shadow in his gaze. “Gol D. Roger. The Pirate King.”

You swallowed. “But that means—”

“Yeah,” he said. “Everyone thinks I should be something—good or evil, depends who you ask. But none of them care what I want. They only see what I was born from.”

You stared at him, quiet now.

Ace sat down in the sand, arms resting on his knees. “So yeah. I know a little about trying to run from your blood. Or trying to live up to something impossible. But trust me… it never works. Either way, you lose yourself.”

You sat beside him slowly, the sea breeze brushing your face. “Then what do I do?”

He turned to you gently. “Start small. What do you want? Not as a Marine. Not as Sakazuki’s daughter. Just… you.”

You hesitated, breath catching in your throat. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he said quietly. “Knowing you don’t know—that’s a hell of a start.”

You looked at him then, really looked. At the man who was supposed to be your enemy. Who was offering you more kindness in an hour than your father had in years.

“Why are you telling me all this?” you asked.

He gave a crooked smile. “Because you looked like someone who needed to hear it. And maybe… because I wish someone had said it to me when I was younger.”

You didn’t respond. You just sat there with him, watching the waves roll in.

The wind stirred your hair, the ocean licking at your boots.

“I want to see you again,” you whispered, surprising even yourself.

Ace blinked—then nodded. “Then we will. One day.”

That night, there was a pull between the two of you—something magnetic, impossible to ignore. Without a word, Ace closed the space between you, his hand finding yours, warm and calloused, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You didn’t pull away.

He kissed you then, a soft press of lips that deepened slowly as the tension between you both flared into something more. There was no rush—only the pressing need to feel alive, to be seen, to be wanted. You kissed him back, hands gently threading into his dark hair, your heart racing in a way that felt both terrifying and freeing.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, the stars above you like silent witnesses to something new and raw. Ace’s eyes were dark, but his smile was soft.

“You’re not alone,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek, a promise in the quiet of the night.

You didn’t say anything, just nodded, letting his words sink in.

There, under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, you found something unexpected. You weren’t sure where it would lead, or if it would survive the world that lay ahead. But for that moment, it was enough.

“I’ll see you again,” you whispered, a promise between the two of you.

He nodded, the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes. “One day.”

——

Marineford roared like a monster of steel and flame. Cannons fired. Blood painted the sea red. Above it all stood your father, barking orders with magma on his fists.

You stood with the other officers, heart numb, until your eyes found him—Ace, shackled on the execution platform, chest heaving.

You couldn’t breathe.

You hadn’t meant to fall for him. But those nights thinking about his laugh, the way he listened—like you were more than your name…

He found you too. His gaze locked with yours, even from the distance. You couldn’t tell what emotion flickered behind his eyes. Recognition? Regret?

Was this the future he’d imagined for your reunion?

——

“You seem distracted.”

Your father’s voice cut through the storm like a knife.

You stiffened. “Just focused.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t lose yourself. This war is for justice. For order.”

You nodded, throat tight. He’d never ask if you were afraid. He’d only care that you stood tall.

But inside, you were already breaking.

“Father…” you tried, voice trembling. “What if there’s more to this than justice? What if—”

“SILENCE.”

His voice boomed like thunder. “There is no ‘what if.’ There is justice. There is crime. And there is fire to purge it.”

You turned away before he could see the doubt in your eyes.

——

When Luffy burst through the chaos, a part of you hoped he’d fail. Another part—the part that remembered moonlight and laughter—begged him to win.

And he did.

The chains broke. Ace stood free.

You ran before you could think.

He was there, coughing, dazed. You called his name. He turned.

“…You came.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I couldn’t let you die.”

He smiled, pain flickering across his face. “You always were too good for them.”

You touched his arm. “We have to go.”

But fate doesn’t care about love.

——

Admiral Aikanu stepped into your path —raw, unrelenting, and burning with hate. His coat billowed like smoke in the wind, and steam hissed off his molten fists. You saw the rage in his eyes before he even spoke. It was the same rage you’d grown up under, now aimed straight at the man you loved.

“Portgas D. Ace,” your father snarled. “You dare escape judgment?”

Ace instinctively pushed you behind him. “Stay back,” he said, voice low and urgent. “Don’t let him touch you.”

But you stepped forward, shoulder brushing his. “I’m not hiding, Ace. Not from him. Not anymore.”

Akainu’s eyes burned into yours. “So. You’ve chosen your side.”

His voice cracked like fire through stone.

“I chose it long before today,” you said, lifting your chin. “You just never wanted to see it.”

“You would throw away justice for him?” His voice seethed, disgust curling in his lip.

“I’m not throwing anything away,” you said. “I’m claiming what’s mine. My life. My choice.”

Akainu’s fists ignited with fury. Lava spilled from his knuckles, hissing as it hit the ground. “Then you’re no daughter of mine.”

Something broke in your chest—but it wasn’t grief. It was the last thread of fear.

Ace’s voice cut through the tension. “She was never yours to shape into a weapon.”

Akainu turned his wrath back toward him. “You speak of freedom while hiding behind her skirts?”

And then he moved.

His magma-coated fist blazed through the air toward Ace. Time slowed.

And without thinking, without hesitation—

You stepped in front of him.

——

The pain was instant. A white-hot agony tore through your side as the lava smashed into you. You felt yourself being thrown back into Ace’s arms, the world tilting, fire blooming across your vision like a dying sun.

You were weightless and heavy at once.

“No!” Ace caught you, stumbling as he dropped to his knees. His hands trembled, cradling you like you were glass already cracking. “Y/N—no. No, no, no…”

Your blood was everywhere. On his arms, on your uniform, soaking into the dirt.

Your breathing came in ragged gasps, and yet—you smiled.

“Why…?” he choked out, eyes wild and wet. “Why would you do that?”

You reached up with shaking fingers to brush his cheek. “Because I love you.”

He held you tighter, pressing his forehead to yours. “You weren’t supposed to die for me. You were supposed to live. With me. You were supposed to live.”

Your voice was barely a whisper. “I know… I wanted that too.”

“Then why—why—”

“Because this was my choice,” you said, voice thin but steady. “Not my father’s. Not the Marines’. Mine.”

He shook his head violently, tears spilling freely. “You idiot… you beautiful, stubborn idiot…”

You tried to smile again, even as the cold crept in. “This… this is freedom. I finally got to decide what I’d give my life for.”

Ace was sobbing now, arms wrapped around you like he could hold your soul in. “No. No, don’t go—please, Y/N…”

You leaned closer, eyes fluttering shut. “Live, Ace. Please. Not for him. Not for Whitebeard. For you.”

Your fingers slipped from his, and the last thing you saw was the sky—vast, open, free.

And Ace—broken, holding you like the world had ended.

Behind him, your father stood still. Staring. Silent. Like even fire had forgotten how to burn.

——

They say Ace fought like hell that day.

They say he screamed your name like a prayer turned curse, tearing through enemy lines with fire that scorched even the sea-slick stone beneath his feet. Magma met flame, and still, he stood. Burning. Bleeding. Unstoppable.

They say it took Luffy, broken and battered, to drag him back—his brother’s arms locked around his chest as he screamed and kicked and sobbed. They say Ace didn’t want to run. That he wanted to die there, next to you.

But Luffy wouldn’t let him.

Not after you had already made that choice.

After the war, Ace disappeared from the public eye. But everyone in Whitebeard’s crew knew where he went.

The first place he returned to was your grave.

Buried quietly, anonymously, far from Marine monuments or war heroes. Your marine pin sat at the headstone, cleaned and polished. And on it was carved only what Ace asked for:

“She died free.”

He stayed there for hours the first time. Maybe days. No one knows what he said. But when he came back, something in him had changed.

He still laughed. Still drank. Still threw his arm around Thatch and teased Marco and got into brawls with the crew. But the light in his eyes had shifted.

He lived like a man with a fire he couldn’t put out.

Every time the Moby Dick passed through a new island, he asked for any news of the Marine girl with the burning eyes and the fireproof heart. Every time he met someone who believed they were born into chains, he told your story.

Not to make them mourn you.

But to remind them what choice could look like.

“Don’t live trying to prove yourself to people who will never see you,” he’d say. “She taught me that.”

He never said your name out loud. Not often. It hurt too much. But your memory followed him like a shadow—like the steady heat of a fire that never died.

Sometimes, when he thought no one was watching, he’d take the small locket he wore under his shirt—a single photo of you, tucked behind a scrap of your old Marine uniform—and whisper,

“I’m still burning for you.”

And he was.

Not for Whitebeard. Not for revenge.

For you.

Because if someone like you—born into war, raised under fire—could choose love in the end…

Then he could choose life.

Just as he was.

And he would live every day the way you wanted him to:

Free.

PEAK

How Many Today?

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Female Reader

“You count the freckles on my back when you’re bored.”

You once absentmindedly started tracing the freckles across Ace’s back, whispering numbers to yourself. Now, every time you lie in bed together, he’ll ask: “How many today?” like it’s a game only you two share.

Word Count: ~2,900

tags: established relationship, fluff, warm romance

my masterlist here ♡

⸻

It was rare that mornings aboard the Moby Dick were this quiet. The sea was gentle, the crew unusually slow to wake, and for once, the deck wasn’t alive with noise and laughter.

Which meant, for you, a rare treat: waking up beside Ace without someone banging pots, shouting about meat, or screaming about chores.

Your fingers rested lightly on his bare back, skin warm even in the shade of the cabin. The early morning sun streamed through the porthole, casting golden light over the room. Ace’s freckles danced in the light like constellations—scattered stars across the broad canvas of his shoulders.

You smiled, resting your forehead against his spine and letting your fingertips begin to trace each one, soft and slow.

“One… two… three…”

You whispered it so quietly he might not hear, but the low rumble of his sleepy chuckle told you otherwise.

“You counting again?” His voice was thick with sleep, but amused. His head turned lazily on the pillow.

You grinned. “How many do you think you have?”

“I dunno. Depends on how good you are at counting.” He yawned, lifting one arm to rest it over your back and pull you in closer. “Did I grow any new ones?”

“I’ll let you know after a recount,” you murmured, kissing between his shoulder blades. You paused at the sight of the massive Whitebeard tattoo that spanned his back, the only place without freckles.

Your fingers ran along the ink’s edge reverently. “I don’t count the ones under the tattoo. Feels wrong.”

He chuckled, still half-asleep. “Pops would be flattered.”

You smirked. “That I respect his territory?”

“No. That his logo saved you from losing count.”

⸻

Docked for supplies, the crew had temporarily set up camp on a small, sunny island. The beach was nearly empty, save for the occasional pirate lugging crates, and you had dragged Ace away from the loading duty under the pretense of needing his “professional fire-starting skills.”

Instead, you both ended up sprawled on a blanket beneath a palm tree, Ace lying on his stomach in nothing but his swim trunks, half-asleep again.

His back rose and fell in a slow rhythm. You couldn’t help it—your fingers were already moving.

“One… two… three…”

He cracked one eye open. “Y/N. It’s your day off. You’re really spending it counting my dots?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you teased, flicking one freckle between his shoulder blades.

He groaned, dropping his head to the crook of his arm. “I do, actually. Your fingers feel nice.”

You laughed. “So I’m a back-scratcher and a freckle accountant?”

“My dream girl,” he said with a lazy grin, eyes still closed.

“Romantic,” you muttered, leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck. “But hey… I think there’s a new one.”

He lifted his head immediately. “Seriously?! Where?”

You tapped it. “Right above the left shoulder blade. Probably from sun exposure. You should be more careful.”

Ace snorted. “You sound like Marco.”

You sat up. “Marco doesn’t kiss them after he lectures you.”

“Mm. Lucky me.” He reached back to grab your wrist and pull you down beside him again. “Don’t stop. I want to know today’s count.”

⸻

Later that evening, the crew built a bonfire on the beach. Music played, sake flowed, and someone shouted for Ace to show off with his flames. He obliged, of course, setting the fire pit ablaze with a flick of his fingers.

You sat beside him, shoulder pressed to his, watching the flames dance.

“I think you’re solar powered,” you teased, sipping your drink.

Ace chuckled. “I do nap more in the shade. But only ‘cause you always wake me up with kisses in the sun.”

You blushed, hiding it behind your cup. “And your freckles glow in firelight. It’s weirdly cute.”

He turned toward you with a playful smile. “You love ‘em, huh?”

You gave him a mock-serious nod. “I am in a long-term committed relationship… with your freckles.”

Ace threw his head back laughing. “Then I should be jealous of my own skin?”

“You should be,” you teased. “They don’t snore.”

“Hey!” he barked, grabbing your waist and tickling your side.

You yelped, nearly dropping your cup. “Ace!”

He laughed, pulling you into his lap. His arms circled around you, warm and protective. The world faded to firelight and laughter, his heartbeat solid against your back.

He rested his chin on your shoulder and whispered, “How many today?”

You smiled and whispered back, “Fifty-eight.”

⸻

It wasn’t always sunshine and laughter.

There were nights Ace returned from missions battered and bruised, cloak torn, face stained with soot and blood. He brushed it off, always saying “I’m fine” before collapsing beside you.

Tonight was one of those nights.

He lay shirtless on his stomach, bandages around his ribs and shoulder. The Whitebeard tattoo was slightly scuffed, the edges red from a scrape. You sat beside him in silence, cleaning dried blood from his back with a damp cloth.

He flinched only once—when your fingers lingered near a newer burn scar.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

He shook his head against the pillow. “Not your fault.”

You said nothing, just continued the gentle cleaning until the blood was gone. Then your fingers brushed his freckles—soft, reverent.

“One… two… three…”

His body relaxed. “You still do it even when I look like a wreck.”

You leaned down and kissed the side of his jaw. “I love all of you. Even the broken parts.”

Ace closed his eyes.

“…Sixty-two?” you whispered.

He smiled faintly. “Might be a new record.”

⸻

A storm rolled in at sea, waves thrashing the Moby Dick hard enough to shake the windows. You were both awake, lying together in the dark bunkroom, the thunder rumbling like a warning.

You curled closer to Ace, who—despite being fire itself—still radiated a warmth that felt like safety.

“You okay?” he murmured, arm around your waist.

“I hate storms,” you muttered into his chest.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

You shifted, turning so his back faced you, pressing your forehead to the place where the Whitebeard tattoo arched across his shoulders.

“Tell me something,” you whispered.

“What?”

“How many freckles do you think you had before we met?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “No idea. I never thought about them ‘til you started counting.”

You kissed between his shoulder blades. “You’ve got more now.”

“Think they’re multiplying ‘cause of you?”

“Maybe I’m magic.”

He hummed. “Then I hope you never stop touching me.”

⸻

The next morning, as the storm cleared, you sat with Ace at the bow of the ship. The sea was still rough, but sunlight peeked through the clouds.

Ace stretched his arms over his head, shirtless again, uncaring of the cold wind.

“You’re going to catch a chill,” you scolded.

He smirked. “I’m fire. I don’t chill.”

You rolled your eyes but came closer, hugging him from behind. He stilled when your lips pressed to the back of his neck.

“One… two… three…”

His voice was quieter this time. “I never liked how I looked. The freckles, the scars, the tattoo… felt like a mess. Like a walking contradiction.”

You rested your chin on his shoulder. “Ace…”

“But then you made all of it feel beautiful.” He glanced at you sideways. “You made me feel beautiful.”

You blinked back the emotion swelling in your throat. “That’s because you are.”

He exhaled, a small, quiet laugh escaping him. “You’ve ruined me, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Now every time I look in the mirror, I start counting. Wondering if you’ll notice the new ones.”

You kissed his cheek. “I always notice.”

⸻

Back in your shared cabin that night, Ace lay on his stomach again, head turned toward you, half-asleep.

You straddled his waist, your hands already drifting over his warm skin. The tattoo loomed, proud and bold, untouched by your count.

“One… two… three…”

He smiled without opening his eyes. “How many today?”

You leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Sixty-six. Same as yesterday.”

He chuckled. “Guess I didn’t get sunburned enough.”

“Nope.” You kissed his shoulder. “But you did get a new freckle on your collarbone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” You kissed that one, too.

Ace turned onto his side and pulled you into his arms, pressing a sleepy kiss to your forehead.

“You’re gonna keep counting forever, right?”

You smiled against his chest.

“Forever.”

when I request angst and it's good angst 💔

(tyy for writing)

hellooo I really like your work and would like to request some angst

maybe like reader dies or gets close to it. some more uncommon charcters too like nami, usopp, or franky please!!

thank you for really cool work and I hope you can do this!!

hii! thank u sm~ oohh~ thats a great idea, ive decided to put them all together, hope u like it!

What Remains

The Straw Hats survive a Marine superweapon test — but only because you don’t. You made a choice to save them all, and they didn’t see it coming.

strawhats x platonic gn! reader tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, platonic bonds, grief a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1k : 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Smoke curled upward from the scorched ruins of the Marine testing island. The sky was dim, bleeding orange as the sun tried and failed to burn away the choking clouds.

They found your body beneath the collapsed structure—arms still raised like you were shielding the others even in death.

It wasn’t the injuries that broke them. It was the look on your face.

Peaceful.

Like you knew.

ONE WEEK EARLIER.

"These weapons..." Franky said, examining the diagrams. "They’re worse than anything Vegapunk ever dreamed up. They’re built to erase islands."

“And they’re testing them here?” Nami’s voice trembled with disbelief.

Usopp peered over the map. “That’s not all. Some of this... it’s Poneglyph script. These freaks are mixing history with firepower.”

You didn’t say anything.

You just stared at the map. Quiet. Calm. Like a storm on the horizon no one else had seen yet.

“We have to stop this,” you said.

Of course, everyone agreed.

But none of them saw what you saw. None of them realized the cost yet.

Not even you.

THE BATTLE.

The Straw Hats split into teams. Luffy and Zoro drew the front lines away. Robin sabotaged the comms. Brook and Jinbei distracted the guards. Chopper tended to wounded civilians trying to escape.

You were supposed to go in with Franky and Usopp.

You didn’t.

You slipped away the moment they weren’t looking, whispering your last words to Nami before disappearing into the smoke.

“I trust you. Don’t look back.”

You found the core buried deep underground.

A thrumming vault of seastone and ancient script, glowing with stolen knowledge and raw destruction.

You knew what it meant.

You could read the Poneglyph fragments embedded in the weapons.

You knew what would happen if they were activated.

So you made a choice.

A selfish, irreversible choice.

You overloaded the core.

THE AFTERMATH.

When the blast hit, it carved a crater into the earth.

Luffy felt it first—his scream carried across the island like a cannon blast. “(Y/N)!!”

Franky’s stomach dropped. He bolted toward the smoke, ignoring everything—orders, pain, fire.

Usopp followed. Nami, too. She didn’t even speak. Her Clima-Tact sparked wildly, emotions bleeding into weather.

They dug with bare hands and bleeding fingers.

And finally, they found you.

Still. Burned. Crushed.

But unmistakably you.

And unmistakably gone.

THE SUNNY.

Franky hadn’t spoken in two days.

He sat in the engine room, back turned to everyone, arms blackened with soot and oil. He worked until his hands bled, building gods knew what.

Chopper had tried to check on him. Franky didn’t even look up.

Usopp wandered the deck in silence, eyes red, mouth dry. He hadn’t told a single story since they left the island.

He’d tried. He opened his mouth once to make a joke, and nothing came out.

So he just sat with your grave marker, talking to it like you were there.

And Nami—Nami was broken in a way no one had ever seen.

She didn’t cry loudly. She didn’t scream. She just shut down.

She went days without food. Sat curled in the crow’s nest, staring out to sea, clutching the note you left her in your final moments.

"Don’t look back."

She hated you for it.

She loved you for it.

She never stopped shaking.

NIGHT.

Luffy stood by the railing, his hat pulled low, wind in his face.

Sanji stood beside him in silence.

“You knew they were gonna die,” Luffy said suddenly. His voice wasn’t angry. It was hollow.

Sanji lit a cigarette, fingers shaking. “I knew they weren’t coming back.”

Luffy didn’t answer.

“They saved all of us,” Sanji added after a long pause.

“I didn’t want saving,” Luffy whispered.

Then he turned and walked away.

FRANKY.

The machine he was building exploded.

He didn’t flinch.

Robin found him hours later, crouched beside the wreckage, staring into space.

“They’d have slapped me for this,” he said quietly.

Robin knelt beside him. “For what?”

“For not stopping them.”

“They knew what they were doing.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

Robin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It never does.”

USOPP.

He buried the dials you used in a small, unmarked box.

Every trap you helped him design, every gadget you tweaked. Gone. Hidden away like a secret.

“I’m never going to be that brave,” he whispered.

Then he broke.

Ugly, shaking sobs that echoed across the deck.

NAMI.

She didn’t speak for three days.

Then, she found Franky. Slammed him into a wall.

“You let them go alone!” she screamed.

Franky didn’t fight back. “I know.”

“YOU PROMISED—YOU PROMISED ME THEY’D COME BACK—!”

He wrapped his arms around her mid-swing, held her as she sobbed, her fists pounding against his chest until they were too weak to lift.

ONE WEEK LATER.

Luffy called everyone to the deck.

No one knew why.

When they arrived, they found him standing in front of a small, newly-built monument.

A single beam of the destroyed fortress. Carved with your name.

And beneath it—your jacket. Cleaned. Pressed. Folded neatly.

Luffy didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

They stood together. Silent.

One by one, they left offerings.

Sanji placed a bottle of sake.

Robin left a single violet flower.

Chopper tied a string of charms around the wood.

Zoro leaned his sword against it for a moment. A quiet nod of respect.

Brook played a low, mournful tune on his violin.

Jinbei lit a lantern and pushed it into the sea.

Usopp placed a small slingshot on the beam.

Franky left a blueprint.

And Nami… Nami placed your note. The last one you ever wrote.

“Don’t look back.”

She whispered, “I’m going to.”

Then she walked away.

.

.

.

They kept your room the way it was.

No one said it aloud—but they all visited.

Nami would sit on your bed when the nightmares came.

Usopp would fix the shelves you always overloaded with junk.

Franky recharged your tools every week, even though you weren’t there to use them.

And Luffy…

Luffy would sit on the figurehead, facing forward, holding your jacket in his lap.

He never cried where anyone could see.

But the jacket was always warm.

As if it still remembered you.

OMG I LOVE THIS SM

Closer than Infinity

Summary: No one touches Gojo Satoru without permission. No one bypasses his infinity. And yet here you are, clinging to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Paring: Gojo x Reader who’s cursed technique is cursed energy absorption

Word Count : 9.6k

Cw: choking (as in the trying to kill you kind not the sexy kind), potential jjk spoilers, kidnapping, mahito, kenjaku performing experiments on you. let me know if i missed any pls mostly just tooth rotting fluff with satoru being whipped for you (and some heart wrenching angst as well... but with a happy ending!) Read on ao3

The sun glares down at you, searing and relentless. It was bright. Too bright. A moment ago, you were in your room, lulled by the soft patter of night rain against the window. Now, you’re here, disoriented and overwhelmed, standing in the middle of a bustling Tokyo street.

The sky feels heavier here, the air thick with something you can’t quite place; cursed energy, though you don’t know it yet. People bustle about around you, eyes glued to their screens, their expressions vacant. No one spares you a second glance.

You don’t understand where you are, and the anxiety starts creeping in, your vision blurring as tears threaten to spill.

Then, you hear a voice.

"Hey, hey, you okay there? So, you’re the one displacing all the cursed energy in this area, huh?”

You turn toward it, and he’s just standing there, hands shoved into his pockets lazily. Clad in an all-black attire, his blindfold is tugged just above his sharp grin.

His name, you would come to learn, is Gojo Satoru. The catalyst for your new life.

There’s something about him, something undeniably safe despite the power that hums around him, distorting the air. The oppressive weight pressing down on you seems to lift in his presence, and instinctively, you take a step toward him.

But before you can reach him, a careless passerby bumps into your shoulder, sending you stumbling.

Your hand shoots out, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself.

His smirk falters.

His mind blanks for a second, and his eyes widen just slightly; a flicker of shock. His Infinity didn’t activate. Didn’t even react.

You had bypassed it entirely.

Why… why did my Infinity not activate?

He didn’t drop it. He knows he didn’t. And yet, your hand, small, soft, and trembling, touches him like it’s nothing. Like touching Gojo Satoru is the most natural thing in the world. His brain scrambles for an explanation, but all you do is blink up at him with wide, confused eyes, unaware of what you’ve just done.

It fascinates him. No one gets this close to him without permission. No one just touches him.

But you did.

And you're clinging to him like he's the only safe thing in this entire strange world.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, is rattled by a single touch. He masks it quickly, of course. A sly grin spreads across his face as he leans in, eyes narrowing with interest.

"Oh? You must be special, huh?" he teases, but there’s an edge to his words, a curiosity that borders on obsession.

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer, not that you could. Before you know it, he’s taken your hand, his grip light yet unyielding.

Because now he needs to know.

Why you can touch him. Why his Infinity doesn’t react. Why he can’t see through you with his Six Eyes.

You’re like a puzzle he can’t solve, and Gojo is obsessed with solving things. He takes you back to Jujutsu High, deciding to figure out exactly what you are.

---

At the school, he watches you quietly, letting you stick close to him. His explanations about Jujutsu society, cursed spirits, and techniques are frustratingly vague, always seeming to leave out some crucial detail. You scramble to piece things together, devouring books from the school’s archives and pestering him with endless questions, to which he mostly responds with amused grins and teasing remarks.

“You’ll figure it out,” he’d casually reply, lounging back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “You’re a quick learner.”

Despite his carefree demeanor, you soon realize that he’s much sharper and more perceptive than he lets on, and he takes a certain delight in testing your limits. Through a series of spontaneous, almost playful experiments, you both begin to uncover the nature of your cursed technique: cursed energy absorption.

“Let’s see what happens,” he announces one afternoon, tossing a small flicker of cursed energy your way. It’s harmless, just a wisp, really, but the moment it touches you, it vanishes, swallowed into the void of your body. You barely feel it, just the faintest tingle, like static electricity dissipating against your skin.

Gojo’s eyes narrow slightly, his interest piqued. “Huh. That’s neat.”

He doesn’t stop there. For extra measure, he releases a low-grade fly head into the room; a harmless cursed spirit. The creature buzzes around erratically, its movements jittery and unpredictable. But the second it brushes against you, it crumples up and disappears completely, as if sucked into a black hole.

He lets out a low whistle. “Scary,” he murmurs, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

But you’re not invincible. Physical attacks, you quickly discover, can still hurt you. The realization makes Gojo frown thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he processes the implications.

“So cursed techniques don’t work on you, huh? But a punch in the face would?” He leans in slightly, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “That’s… not good.”

You huff at his bluntness, crossing your arms. “Thanks, mister obvious.”

He chuckles at that, but his expression grows serious as he continues. “All this cursed energy you absorb, it has to go somewhere, right? Energy can’t just vanish into thin air. It’s gotta build up or… redistribute somehow.”

His words linger in your mind for days, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. Where does all that energy go? You find out soon enough.

It happens by accident, during another one of Gojo’s experiments. He’s been pushing you harder lately, testing your capacity to absorb larger amounts of cursed energy. You’re already tired, your body humming with the energy you’ve collected over the past hour, when he suddenly says, “Alright. Let’s try something new.”

Before you can protest, his hand lands gently on your shoulder. The moment his palm touches you, the world shifts.

It’s like a thread pulls taut between you and him, an invisible line that snaps into place and yanks you forward. The energy within you stirs violently, surging toward him as though drawn by an irresistible force. And then, without warning, you’re pulled in.

Your physical body seems to dissolve, your consciousness folding into his. It’s not painful, more like slipping into warm water, the boundaries between you blurring as you’re absorbed into him completely. You’re disoriented at first, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of sensations. His cursed energy roars around you, infinite and untamed, but instead of drowning in it, you find yourself amplifying it. Strengthening it.

And then you feel his thoughts.

They’re loud and clear, vivid and raw. His confidence. His focus. His endless, swirling intellect. But underneath it all, there’s something else. A quiet loneliness, buried so deeply that even he might not realize it’s there.

You know he feels you too. His awareness brushes against yours, tentative at first, then curious. He’s seeing all of you. Your awe, your nervousness, the way your heart stutters when you think about him.

A voice echoes in your mind. His voice, but softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Is this… you?”

And then it’s over.

Your body emerges from his in a rush, like being expelled through a barrier. You’re weightless for a moment, reeling from the sudden separation, before his arms catch you instinctively. One hand steadies your waist, the other bracing your back, holding you close as though afraid you might collapse.

You’re trembling, your head spinning, but his grip is firm, grounding. His expression is unreadable, his gaze flickering between concern and amazement.

“That,” he finally says, his voice low and breathless, “was… unexpected.”

You nod weakly, still trying to process what just happened. “What… what was that?”

Gojo tilts his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite the obvious seriousness of the moment. “Looks like your cursed technique has a little bonus feature,” he says. But there’s an unmistakable gleam in his eyes, something almost giddy, like he’s already thinking of all the ways this changes things.

“Merge,” he murmurs thoughtfully, his grip on you tightening just slightly. “You can merge with me. Boost my energy, maybe even my technique… and I can feel everything you feel.”

You blink, the weight of his words sinking in. “I… merged with you?”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone light. “I could feel you in there. Your thoughts, your emotions. It was… intimate.”

The word makes you flush, but Gojo doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and he’s just enjoying your reaction. He allows you to remove his hands from your body and step back, regaining your composure.

“This changes everything,” he continues, his mind already racing with possibilities. “With an ability like that, you could turn the tide of any battle. But…” He trails off, his expression darkening.

“But what?”

He meets your gaze, his tone unusually solemn. “It also makes you a target. If people find out what you can do, they’ll come after you. And not just curses—the higher-ups, other sorcerers, maybe even people we don’t know about yet. You’ve got something they’ll want to control.”

The gravity of his words makes your stomach twist. You realize, perhaps for the first time, just how dangerous your ability could be. Not just for your enemies, but for yourself.

Gojo must see the worry on your face, because his grin returns, softer this time. “Don’t worry,” he says, ruffling your hair playfully. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m the strongest, remember?”

---

Word of your ability spreads fast. It’s not long before the higher-ups find out. They hear whispers of an anomaly. Someone who can bypass Gojo’s infinity, someone with a cursed technique powerful enough to absorb energy itself.

You first hear about their unease from Gojo himself. He brings it up casually one day, as if he’s commenting on the weather.

“The higher-ups are wary of you, you know.”

You glance up from the book in your hands, frowning. “Wary? Of me? But I haven’t done anything, have I?”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, as if the answer is obvious. “You have. You can do what no one else can.” He leans back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, a small smile playing on his lips. “You can touch me.”

To the higher-ups, you’re a threat. An unpredictable variable that could shatter the delicate balance of power.

If she can bypass Gojo, she can kill him.

And if she can kill Gojo, she can destroy everything.

The order is swift: Immediate execution.

Gojo only laughs when he hears it. Laughs in that cold, dangerous way that makes the air around him tighten.

“Oh? You want to what now?”

They try to argue.

“It’s a precaution. You can’t possibly guarantee she won’t turn on us.” “It’s too dangerous to let her live.”

Gojo’s smile sharpens. “No. You’re not laying a hand on her.”

And that’s the end of that conversation.

Even though the higher-ups were afraid of you, the one they were most afraid of was Gojo. They knew better than to risk provoking him. Instead, they compromise. If they can’t execute you, then they’ll find another way to control you.

That’s how you end up being appointed as Gojo’s personal assistant. Or, as you later realize, his handler. It’s a political move, thinly veiled under the guise of practicality. They claim it’s to “help you grow as a sorcerer” and to “ensure your potential is properly utilized,” but the truth is far simpler: they want you close to him, where they can keep an eye on you both.

Gojo seems happy enough with the arrangement, informing you of it with a wide grin.

You frown. “How is this a good thing?”

“Because,” he says, ruffling your hair playfully, “it means I get to keep you close. And you’re safer next to me than anywhere else.”

---

At first, Gojo is determined to keep you emotionally far away from his heart. He knows better than to get attached to someone like you, someone vulnerable and still finding their footing in the world of curses and sorcery. He’s lost too many people he cared about already. He can’t bear to go through that kind of pain again.

But you’re like gravity to him. The more time he spends with you, the harder it becomes to stay away. Not to mention the way your cursed technique pairs so naturally with his, like a missing puzzle piece. He tries to keep his feelings at bay, but he keeps getting pulled closer.

And slowly, before he even realizes it, he’s falling.

The first time you merge with him during a mission is a nightmare for you. As he’s cutting through curses with ease, beneath the adrenaline, he feels your awe and your admiration for how effortlessly powerful he is.

Your thoughts begin drifting to the image of him while fighting, the way he can effortlessly fight hand to hand, the way you can sometimes catch a glimpse of his well-built stature and abs when his jacket lifts up slightly mid battle…

God, he looks so attractive when he’s fighting.

He smirks mid-battle. Shoot.

“Oh? Is that what you’re thinking right now?”

You flush with embarrassment, mentally scrambling to cover it up, but it’s too late. He finds it adorable. He doesn’t stop teasing you about it for a week afterwards.

You find that you can merge with other sorcerers too. It isn’t just Gojo’s cursed energy that’s compatible with yours, as much as he likes to loudly claim that his is the best match. Nanami, for instance, has a steady, almost soothing flow of cursed energy. Organized, predictable, and oddly comforting in its calmness.

But there was admittedly something about Gojo’s cursed energy that stood apart. Merging with him felt... natural. Like his energy wasn’t just accepting of yours, but welcoming, pulling you in with an ease that was almost magnetic. You last longer in the merged state with him, your abilities amplified in a way that feels effortless. It’s a fact he takes great pride in, often teasing you about it with a smirk.

“Guess my energy is just built different,” he says, smirking. “No one else can keep up with you like I can, huh?”

It’s infuriatingly true, and he knows it. But his smugness doesn’t stop you from practicing with others. After all, you can’t rely on him for everything.

One day you decide to practice with Nanami in one of the training rooms. His cursed energy is steady as always, and you focus on syncing your flow with his, attempting to enter his body the same way you do with Gojo. The process is slower, less intuitive than when it’s with Gojo, but you’re making good progress.

You’re in the middle of a successful merge when you feel a strange presence, faint but undeniably familiar. Turning your head slightly, you spot a flash of white hair peeking around the corner of the doorway.

At first, you think you must be imagining it. But then the head tilts, and you catch the unmistakable glint of Gojo’s dark sunglasses reflecting the light.

Was he seriously spying on you?

It takes all your self-control not to burst out laughing. You can’t tell if Nanami is unaware, or just ignoring the figure at the door, though you assume the latter. He just continues with his usual calm focus, adjusting his stance and refocusing his cursed energy.

You glance back at the doorway, only to find Gojo glaring. Not at you, but at Nanami. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his expression is a mix of a pout and a death glare, like a sulking child who’d been told to share their favorite toy.

He catches your gaze and immediately straightens up, feigning innocence. With exaggerated casualness, he leans against the wall, whistling as if he hadn’t just been caught.

“Don’t mind me,” he calls out, his voice entirely too loud and cheerful. “Just passing by. Carry on!”

Nanami sighs, clearly unimpressed. “Gojo, if you’re going to spy, at least be subtle about it.”

“I wasn’t spying,” Gojo retorts, strolling into the room with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I was monitoring. Big difference.”

“Sure,” you say, smirking. “You’re monitoring my progress with Nanami. That’s why you were hiding behind the corner and glaring at him, right?”

Gojo’s eyes widen in mock offense, one hand flying to his chest. “Glaring? Me? I don’t glare. I radiate charm and positivity.”

Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about Gojo’s inability to take anything seriously.

Gojo ignores him, turning his full attention to you. “Anyway, you’ve been practicing enough with him. Time to come back to the one and only,” he declares, pointing at himself with a dramatic flourish.

“Jealous much?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Me? Jealous? Pfft, never.” But the faint flush creeping up his neck betrays him.

Nanami, ever the professional, simply rolls his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he says, stepping back. “Good luck.”

You both know the last part is directed towards you.

As soon as Nanami leaves, Gojo sidles up to you, his grin a mix of smugness and relief. “So, how’d it go?” he asks, his tone casual but his eyes betraying his curiosity.

“Fine,” you reply, being deliberately vague.

“Just fine?” he presses, leaning in closer.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “…Your cursed energy still feels the best.”

The triumphant grin that spreads across his face is both endearing and irritating. “Knew it,” he says, ruffling your hair.

---

Your new life is strange. But you grow used to it. You grow close to the staff members and students at the school and become more familiar with your cursed technique.

Over time, merging with Gojo becomes second nature. But what surprises you the most isn’t how well your cursed energies sync. It’s the emotions you begin to feel through the connection.

At first, it was fleeting impressions. An ache that wasn’t yours, a flicker of sadness that disappeared almost as soon as it surfaced. It was like catching shadows in the corner of your eye. Easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention.

But you were paying attention.

Through these merges, you truly begin to understand him. Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer alive, but also someone who carries an almost invisible weight on his shoulders. You can sense his loneliness. It’s heavy, quiet, and constant, masked by his confidence and easy laughter. You begin to see the cracks in his carefree facade, the moments of vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see.

Beneath the teasing remarks and self-assured smiles was a man who bore the pain of loss and the burden of protecting a world that barely understood him.

You can’t shake the feeling. It lingers long after the merges end. You find yourself wanting to do something, anything, to ease that aching loneliness.

You start paying attention to him in ways no one else had.

When he cracks one of his terrible jokes, you laugh. Though not out of pity, but because more often than not, he’s actually hilarious in his own absurd way. When he tugs you away during missions to slack off, you go along without complaint. You let him have his fun, matching his playful energy with a smile of your own. You find his cheerful grin and happiness worth every second of it.

The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself saying “yes.” Yes to his impromptu plans, late-night snack runs, and the ridiculous detours he insists on taking just because something caught his eye. Every spontaneous moment and silly adventure feels like a glimpse into a part of him the world rarely gets to see. A part he doesn’t let anyone else in on.

And slowly, things began to shift.

He doesn’t have to beg Nanami or Shoko to join him anymore because he has you. You’re the one he starts to seek out. Because you’re one of the few people who can offer him genuine comfort.

You see how his eyes light up when you listen to him ramble on about various topics, how his posture relaxes when you’re around. Slowly but surely, the walls he had built around himself start to crumble for you.

---

The streets of Tokyo are alive tonight. Lanterns light the pathways, casting a warm glow over the festival-goers. The scent of grilled skewers and sweet treats lingers in the air, mingling with the distant crackle of fireworks. You walk beside Gojo, his towering frame impossible to miss even in this crowd. His blindfold is in place as always, covering his eyes from your view. But you can tell he’s enjoying himself from the faint but genuine smile tugging the corners of his lips.

You had toured the festival together, eating your fill of tasty street food, and laughing as Gojo tried (and failed) to win you a stuffed animal from a claw machine. As the night winds down, the streets grow quieter, the hum of the festival fading into the distance. Gojo suggests taking a walk, and soon, the two of you find yourselves on a secluded hill overlooking the city. The soft glow of Tokyo stretches out below.

Gojo tugs his blindfold down, letting it rest loosely around his neck. His snowy white hair ruffles in the wind as he closes his eyes for a moment, letting the cool night breeze brush against his face.

He’s still holding his dango stick, though it’s down to one last piece. With a smirk, he holds it out to you.

“Wanna try?” he asks, his voice light and teasing.

You lean down, taking a bite. The sweetness of the sauce melts on your tongue.

“It’s good!” you exclaim, glancing up at him with a smile. But you pause when you see the way he’s looking at you.

His gaze isn’t teasing or playful like usual. It’s different. Softer, unguarded. His vivid blue eyes are fixed on you, admiring you like you’d hung the very stars that shine down upon you both.

The vibrant hues of the fireworks reflect off your face, your hair gently blowing back in the night breeze. And in that moment, with the way your eyes sparkled when you spoke, the way your smile lit up the world around you, he realized something he couldn’t deny any longer.

He was hopelessly, utterly, entirely in love with you.

You tilt your head, a little confused. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

That snaps him out of it, and he lets out a soft laugh. “No,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost reverent. “…You’re perfect.”

As the city lights sparkle below and the wind carries the distant echoes of the fireworks overhead, standing next to you, he wonders if this was the happiness he had been craving.

He doesn’t even realize his Infinity begins instinctively sneaking around you, hovering just above your skin, careful not to be absorbed by your technique. In time, it becomes second nature to him. Because in Gojo’s mind, you’re not just beside him, you’re a part of him.

He never realized how much he needed you until you were here with him.

But happiness, you learn, is fleeting in the world of jujutsu sorcery.

---

Kenjaku had heard of you. Your cursed technique, the ability to merge with other sorcerers, and amplify their power. Such a gift was dangerous, especially when paired with someone like Gojo. He recognizes the danger you pose if you’re allowed to grow stronger, especially under Gojo’s protection. But Kenjaku is patient. That’s why he waits. Waits for the perfect moment, when you would be at your most vulnerable.

Shibuya, 9:27 PM. Gojo Satoru was sealed.

You wander the winding halls of the subway alone, eyes frantically darting all around you. Where was he?

You two had arrived at the scene together, alongside the other sorcerers, but it soon became clear the situation was much graver and more calculated than anyone had first expected. Gojo headed towards Fukutoshin Line Platform alone, entrusting you with Nanami and the remaining sorcerers. Nanami made sure you stuck close to him, not letting you out of his sight for a second as you two split off from the other sorcerers to search for Ijichi, who had mysteriously gone silent on the intercoms a while ago. You couldn’t help but feel pity for the man. You already knew how insufferable Gojo could sometimes be towards him. You hoped he was alright.

Nanami led you through the streets above, the city now a warzone. Buildings shook, the air thick with cursed energy. You followed his lead, searching for Ijichi amid the destruction. The cursed energy in the air continued to grow heavier, more menacing. And then you heard it. The sound of a swarm. A wave of curses emerged from the shadows, surrounding Nanami in an instant. He fought them off with a calm precision, but there were too many.

You couldn’t get close enough to touch him, couldn’t merge with him to amplify his strength. You tried to fight, but without a partner, your cursed technique was nearly useless.

“Run,” Nanami ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos. “I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Go!” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart pounding, you turned and ran. The only place not teeming with curses was the underground subway entrance, so you slipped inside, cursing yourself for your own weakness.

---

That’s how you end up in your current predicament.

The subway is eerily quiet, the faint tremors of battle above shaking the walls. Dust particles fall from the ceiling as the yellow tinged led lights overhead flicker on and off. The air is thick with the stench of blood and curses. You swallow your fear and keep pushing forward in the dimly lit corridors. The sound of your footsteps seem to echo too loudly off the walls as your eyes dart around, searching desperately for Gojo.

“Gojo?” Your voice trembles as you call out for him, the silence swallowing your words. Something wasn’t right.

The floor beneath you shudders violently, and for a brief moment, you think the ceiling might collapse. You didn’t know it, but Sukuna and Mahoraga were clashing above, their battle shaking the city to its core.

You turn the corner. And you freeze.

You come face to face with a humanoid curse. Dead, greyish blue eyes and hair, and a patchwork face. His eyes widen with excitement as he spots you. You had seen the report from Nanami. His name was…

Mahito. A crazed grin stretches across his face, eyes glinting with manic glee as he pushes off the wall he was leaning against.

“Ohhh, you’re the one they’re all talking about.” He tilts his head.

Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to remain calm, or at least give off the pretense of it. “Stay back,” you warn, your cursed energy flaring.

He keeps talking like he doesn’t even hear your words. “I wonder… what happens if I do this?”

His hand lashes out faster than you can process, aiming for your arm, intending to twist your flesh and warp your body just enough to incapacitate you.

But nothing happens.

His palm presses against your skin, and he feels it. That pull. Like his cursed energy is slipping away, getting swallowed into a void.

Mahito’s grin falters for the first time.

He jerks his hand back, staring at you with narrowed eyes. Then realization dawns.

“Ah… right. That’s your cursed technique, isn’t it?”

His confusion quickly twists back into delight.

“Oh, this’ll be fun. No wonder Kenjaku wants you alive”

You take a step back to run, but he moves faster. His fist connects with your stomach, and the impact sends you lurching into the concrete wall, where you slump to the ground.

“Alive doesn’t mean unharmed.” He crouches down to grab you by the collar. “You’ll come with me now.”

The damp, musty air clings to your skin when you wake in the dark, your head pounding. The walls of a dingy cell press in around you, suffocating in their emptiness. No sunlight reached here, only the faint, flickering light of a distant bulb that barely illuminated the room.

Your limbs feel like lead, barely able to resist as Kenjaku runs countless experiments, one after the other on you. The sting of a needle piercing your skin feels all too familiar now, followed by the burn of whatever strange liquid he would inject into your veins. Each time, it drags you into unconsciousness, the edges of reality slipping away.

You have the same reoccurring nightmare every time. You see Satoru walking ahead of you, but no matter how fast you run, how loudly you call out to him, his back only grows smaller and smaller. Your hands reach out futilely towards him, but he doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t stop. Then he’s gone. And all you’re left with are the whispers. Cruel, taunting voices in the back of your mind.

If only you had done something differently.

You let him down.

He’s not coming for you.

The ground beneath your feet cracks, a void forming and swallowing you whole. You let out a soundless scream as you fall, knowing he wouldn’t be there to catch you. Then you wake in a cold sweat. There was no solace for you, no relief. The darkness of the cell is no better than the darkness of the void.

You’re growing weaker. You miss him. Desperately. Miss that familiar warmth of his cursed energy, miss his teasing voice, miss those kind, comforting eyes.

Groggily, you open your eyes, the faint sound of voices breaking through the fog in your head. Kenjaku and Mahito are speaking just outside your cell. You don’t know how many days it’s been. Your throat aches, you’re so thirsty. Their words come slowly, distorted by your exhaustion, taking time to process in your mind.

“…too dangerous to use…” Kenjaku’s voice is measured, clinical.

“Absorbing curses if she’s near them too long…” Mahito adds.

“So then, a waste of time.” Kenjaku concludes, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Her ability is far too advantageous for the sorcerers. If she remains, she’ll only become a liability to us.”

Your eyes widen at the realization. Were they planning on getting rid of you? Then that meant… Your body jolts as the barred gate is thrown open loudly, and you scramble to your feet using what remains of your strength. Mahito steps towards you wearing a terrifyingly wide smile. Too wide. He’s still talking to Kenjaku, though in your panic you can’t hear what he’s saying properly. The sound of your pounding heart fills your ears. You attempt to back away from him but you can only move so far before your back hits the wall. You see his mouth move again.

“If she serves no purpose to us then… why don’t we just get rid of her?”

His cold hands wrap around your throat, before you can process it. He’s squeezing, watching you choke and claw at his hands. He only laughs at your attempts to struggle, clearly unhinged. Tears fill your eyes, flowing down your cheeks. He coos in mock sympathy at the sight. It was sickening. Was this really how you were going to die? Your vision becomes hazy as your hands slowly drop to your sides.

The ground trembles beneath you as a deafening explosion tears through the air. The crushing grip around your throat falters in shock, and you collapse to the floor, gasping for air. Shards of debris cascade around you like a deadly rain, but all you can feel is the warmth of sunlight spilling across your skin. It’s warm. A warmth you’d almost forgotten.

Blinking through the haze, your eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden brightness. You see a tall silhouette standing within the light, his white hair illuminated like a halo, his piercing blue eyes filled with raw fury. It’s him.

Satoru.

He looks frantic, his gaze locking onto you. You don’t remember what happens next as you finally pass out, but you swear you can hear your captor’s pitiful screams weaving their way into your dreams.

---

When your eyes open again, the harsh glow of artificial lights fills your vision. It takes a moment to register where you are. Shoko’s clinic. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air, and the faint beeping of monitors accompanies the sluggish rhythm of your heart. Your body feels impossibly heavy, and the stiff brace around your neck prevents you from moving your head.

Your eyes begin to dart around the room, searching, desperate. The heart monitor beside you spikes erratically. Panic claws at your chest, tears stinging your eyes before you even understand why. You don’t know why you’re crying, just that you need to see him, badly.

Then a warm hand wraps firmly around your own. You recognize the touch instantly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” his voice is soft, steady, pulling you back from the edge. “I’m right here. You’re awake… thank god.”

Your body relaxes hearing his familiar voice, and a shaky breath escapes your lips, one you hadn’t realized you were holding. The bed shifts slightly as he leans over, his face coming into view.

And that’s when the tears fall in earnest.

You try to speak, but your throat is raw, the words breaking apart between hiccups. “I— I m-missed you so much— I…”

He silences you with an understanding smile, his thumb brushing gently at the tears streaking your cheeks. “I know. I know. I’m here now, okay? You’re safe.” His voice is quiet, soothing, but there’s a tremor of something beneath it. Relief, fear, maybe both.

He stays by your side, his hand never leaving yours, as silence settles between you. You finally notice how exhausted he looks. Dark circles shadowing his usually bright eyes, his normally neat hair a tousled mess. Even so, to you, he’s never looked more beautiful.

“You scared me, you know?” he murmurs after a while, the words almost too quiet to hear. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You want to apologize, but your voice catches. So instead, you squeeze his hand weakly.

---

A few days later, as you’re discharged, Shoko explains your injuries in her usual clipped tone. Your body is severely malnourished, and the curse had nearly fractured a vital bone in your neck. If Gojo had arrived even a few seconds later… she doesn’t finish the sentence, but her expression betrays the relief she doesn’t say aloud.

“You need to rest—no overexertion, no training, no missions,” Shoko warns, fixing you with a stern look. “I mean it. Don’t make me hunt you down.” Although her tone is clipped, you can tell she’s just as relieved as everyone else that you’re okay.

You manage a small smile, thankful for her concern for you. You make a mental note to gift her a bottle of her favorite wine later as thanks. Checking your phone, you notice a timid message from Ijichi, kindly pleading with you to try not to get kidnapped ever again, because Gojo was an absolute pain to deal with.

You find out later from reports that there was nothing left of the place, just rubble and ash. He had obliterated it all. Somehow Kenjaku had managed to escape during the chaos. But Mahito… it was a bloodbath. He didn’t stand a chance. The sheer devastation speaks volumes, but what hits you harder is the knowledge that he hadn’t stopped for even a moment. The second he was unsealed and heard about your disappearance—your likely kidnapping—he was livid. He didn’t rest once until he found you, until you were back in his arms where you belonged.

It was the first time you saw just how deep his need for you went.

You’re badly shaken. The events will haunt you for the rest of your life, your first taste of the brutality and violence of the Jujutsu world. But it’s clear Satoru fared even worse. After that he doesn’t leave your side for days, hovering constantly, as if afraid that you might disappear again the second he looks away. The whole experience serves as a painful reminder to him of your vulnerability. Without him, you were a target, easy prey for those who sought to exploit or destroy you. The thought eats away at him.

“You’re moving in with me,” he says one day, standing over you with an air of finality that left no room for argument.

You blink up at him from the couch, still recovering. “What?”

“It’s not up for debate,” he continues, arms crossed. “You’re safer with me. No one can get to you if you’re in my home.”

You take a moment to consider, but you find that you don’t really want to argue with him anyway. You can hear the hidden plea beneath his words. A part of you knows he’s right. If this is what he needs to find some semblance of peace of mind, then so be it. And a quieter, more selfish part of you doesn’t mind the idea of being close to him, spending more time with him.

“Okay,” you finally relent.

That’s how you find yourself standing in his penthouse a few hours later, what few belongings you own packed neatly into a bag at your side.

The penthouse is just as over-the-top as you expected: floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, sleek furniture, and little touches of Gojo’s eccentric personality scattered throughout.

“This is... a lot,” you murmur, taking in the sprawling space.

“Only the best for me, and now for you,” he says with a wink, tossing your bag onto the plush couch.

What catches your attention the most is the care he takes in making space for you. Your favorite snacks fill a section of the fridge, an extra toothbrush sits beside his in the bathroom, and a cozy corner of his study has been cleared out for you. It’s the little things, the quiet gestures, that tell you just how much this means to him.

But even as you settle into this new rhythm, something doesn’t sit right with you.

Satoru starts taking on more missions, alone. Where he used to insist on dragging you along for backup, now he refuses. Each time you bring it up, his excuses are vague, his tone dismissive.

Lately he had been returning home later and later, some nights not at all. His once-vibrant energy feels dimmed, like he’s burning himself out trying to shoulder more than even he can bear.

You hate seeing him like this.

The curses have been more active than ever, and you know he’s overworked. You try your best to help him with what you can, managing the paperwork, maintaining the space you shared, even preparing meals for him. But it’s not enough. He’s still stuck with the belief that as the strongest, he had to carry everything himself. You frown at the thought. You wish you could do more for him.

You hear the front door open, and you rush out of your shared bedroom to greet him. But your smile fades as you see him standing there, shoulders sagging with exhaustion, his usual carefree grin nowhere to be seen.

Your heart aches at how drained and worn out he looks. You tentatively step closer to him, wanting to soothe him but unsure of how. His blindfold keeps you from seeing his eyes, as if acting as the barrier between you and his true self. You feel an urge to pull it down. He lets you, hands resting at his sides as you gently tug down his blindfold. His weary eyes meet your own. Those usually sparkling eyes, now dull and lifeless.

You don’t know why you do it. It must have been instinctive. You just want to be able to lighten his pain and offer him rest, even just the slightest amount. Your hands move on their own, rising to lightly rest over his tired eyes. Covering them completely.

But the second your hands cover his eyes, his breath hitches. He can’t see anything. No cursed energy, no shapes, no flickering auras; its just darkness, pure and quiet. He’s stunned. His hands shakily reach up, wrapping around your wrists. Not to stop you, but to keep you there. Like if he lets go, that peace might disappear.

“What do you see?” you ask softly, almost afraid to disturb the stillness.

“Nothing. Nothing but you. Only you,” he murmurs, his voice is barely a whisper, as if he’s afraid saying it out loud might shatter the moment.

Gojo, burdened by his Six Eyes from birth. He had spent his whole life seeing everything, constantly overwhelmed by the endless stream of cursed energy and the weight of being the strongest. He can only find true relief with you. For once, he isn’t the strongest sorcerer, the invincible figure everyone relies on. With you, he’s just Satoru, resting in the soft comfort of your hands, shielded from the constant noise of the world.

From that moment on, it becomes your thing together. After long, grueling missions where he’s pushed to his limits, when his mind is frayed and his vision is burned with cursed energy, he’d search for you, tugging gently on your hands, silently asking for comfort. He leans into your touch like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. Sometimes he pulls you into his lap, burying his face into your neck, quietly asking, “Just for a minute… please…”

And you allow him as long as he needs, stroking his hair gently. Letting him enjoy that rare, sacred peace.

The intimacy deepens his attachment to you in ways he never thought possible. You’re no longer just his assistant, his partner. You’re the one person in the world who truly understands him, makes him feel human. It’s in these stolen moments, when the world falls away and it’s just the two of you, that he realizes how much he truly needs you. And when he thinks about how fragile you are, how vulnerable, it terrifies him.

You’re my everything, he thinks to himself one night, as your body rests above his. The room is quiet, save for the faint sound of your breaths and the steady rhythm of Satoru’s heartbeat beneath you. You lay sprawled across his chest, your cheek resting against him as his arms hold you close to him.

Maybe that fear is the reason his arms wrap around you just a tad tighter, why he holds you flush to his own body as if afraid you’ll disappear.

“What do you think about having kids one day?”

Satoru blinks, caught completely off guard by your question. He stares at you, his mouth opening slightly before closing again. For once, Gojo Satoru, the man who always had something clever to say, was at a loss for words.

“You—kids?” he finally manages, his voice slightly hoarse.

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah. Kids.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, tilting his head back against the pillow as he processes your words. “Huh. You really know how to throw a guy off, don’t you?”

Your smile widens, and you prop yourself up on his chest, looking down at him. “I’m serious, Satoru. What do you think?”

His eyes flicker to yours, searching your expression for any hint of doubt, any sign that you might be joking. But you aren’t. You’re completely serious.

“I… I never thought about it,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “I never thought I’d want something like that. Or that I could even have it.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “Why not?”

He lets out a soft sigh, his gaze shifting to the ceiling. “Because I’m me,” he says simply. “The strongest. The guy everyone depends on. The guy who…” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “I never thought I deserved that kind of happiness. Not with the life I’ve lived. Not with all the things I’ve done.”

You feel a pang of sadness at his words, and you reach up, brushing your fingers gently along his jawline. “You deserve to be happy, Satoru,” you say softly. “You deserve to have a family, to have someone who loves you unconditionally. And you know what?”

He turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes shimmering with something you couldn’t quite place.

“I think you’d be an amazing dad,” you continue, your voice steady and sincere.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, his expression unreadable. But then his lips quirk into a small, almost shy smile.

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” you say, your voice firm.

He lets out a quiet laugh, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You make me believe it,” he murmurs.

You smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When you pull back, his eyes are still locked on yours, searching, as if he was trying to commit this moment to memory.

"We'd make a cute kid," he eventually says, a genuine smile spreading across his face, one that makes your heart swell.

You can’t help but grin back, bright and contagious. His hands slide to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he guides you gently toward him.

And then he kisses you, slowly, deeply, as if pouring all of his emotions into that single moment.

In his arms, you feel it. The warmth, the love, the unspoken promise of a future that seems a little brighter, a little fuller.

With him, it feels right.

---

The kiss lingers in your mind, even as the two of you walk side by side toward the battlefield. The warmth of his hand in yours grounds you. His long fingers curl tightly around yours, as if to anchor you to him. To remind you of his silent promise.

I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you.

But even with his reassurances, there’s a weight in the air, heavy and oppressive. You both know this fight isn’t like the others. Ahead of you, Sukuna’s cursed energy crackles in the distance, dark and suffocating, a storm that threatens to swallow everything whole.

Gojo’s grip on your hand tightens as you near the edge of the battlefield, and the two of you come to a stop. You glance up at him, and the sight takes your breath away. His white haori catches the breeze, billowing behind him like the wings of an angel sent to bring judgment. To you, perhaps he is.

His hair is wild, tousled by the wind, and his blindfold is gone, leaving his piercing blue eyes on full display. They glimmer with an intensity that’s equal parts terrifying and beautiful. But beneath the crystalline clarity of his gaze, you see something softer. Something meant only for you.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice soft yet steady, the calm within the chaos.

You nod, your hand squeezing his in quiet reassurance.

For a moment, the world seems to fall away. It’s just the two of you standing there, bound together by something deeper than words. You wish he didn’t have to fight. You wish things were different, that there was another way. But you know this is the path he has to walk. The world is counting on him. It always has.

So you’ll stand by him, no matter what.

Somewhere in the pit of your stomach, the uneasy feeling that something is about to go terribly wrong begins to take root.

---

The air crackles with cursed energy as Gojo and Sukuna stand, facing each other. The battlefield is in ruins, the ground scorched and torn as the clash of the two strongest sorcerers continues. Gojo stands in the center of it all, his body aching, his cursed energy reserves dangerously low. But inside him, he can feel you, your cursed energy merging with his, amplifying his strength, your unwavering determination giving him the edge he needed to keep fighting. Your presence is warm, steady, even as you pour every ounce of your strength into helping him.

But he knows what you’re doing.

“Stop it,” he growls, his voice strained as he sends another powerful attack towards Sukuna. His words aren’t aimed towards his enemy, but at you. “You’re pushing yourself too far. I can handle this.” “No, you can’t,” your voice echoes softly in his mind, calm yet firm. “Not alone.”

Gojo’s jaw clenches as he blocks another strike, his fingers trembling from the strain. He can feel it, feel your energy fading, slipping through his fingers like sand. It’s not just his body weakening. It’s you giving everything you had, pouring your soul into protecting him.

“Damn it, stop!” he shouts, his frustration boiling over. But you can hear the desperation and worry beneath the words. “I’m telling you, don’t do this! I won’t let you-”

“You don’t get to decide this, Satoru.” There’s a bittersweet smile in your voice, one he feels deep in his chest. “If it means keeping you alive, I’ll do it a thousand times over.”

He freezes for a fraction of a second, Sukuna’s cleave grazing his shoulder. His eyes widen in a panic as your words register. “No- no, don’t talk like that. We’re getting out of this together, you hear me?”

You don’t reply. Instead, he feels his arm raising on its own, his hand forming the symbol for a hollow purple. But he’s not the one in control. You are, your cursed energy overriding his will, guiding his body. The over exertion from the devastating technique would drain you completely. You both know it.

“Satoru,” you whisper, your voice barely audible now. “Thank you… for everything. For making me feel like I wasn’t alone. For loving me. I’m sorry...”

“No. No, no no!” Gojo cries out desperately, as he tries to force his arms down. But his own body doesn’t listen to him, controlled by you using the last of your energy. The blinding glow of purple grows bigger at his finger tips, ready to end the battle. “Don’t you dare say goodbye to me! Don’t you dare-”

But then, he feels it. The moment you fade entirely. That comforting presence, the warmth he’d grown so used to. It was gone. His fingers release in that instant, his hollow purple launching forward with imperceivable speed, overpowering Sukuna in a brilliant burst of energy. It was over. Gojo had won. But victory feels like ashes in his mouth.

Because you were gone.

As the dust settles, he falls to his knees, his chest heaving. His hands claw at his heart, trying to feel for you, trying to sense even a sliver of your presence, but there was nothing. Nothing but a hollow, aching void, filling every crevice.

“No,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “No, no, no. Come back. Come back to me!” He clutches at his chest, tears streaming down his face as he calls your name over and over again. “Please… don’t leave me. I need you. I need you…”

Then, a faint glow emerges from his chest. He freezes, his breath hitching as he watches a small, delicate gem form in his hand. A teardrop shaped crystal, shimmering faintly with the last traces of your essence. It’s beautiful, radiant, and it breaks his heart into a million pieces.

He stares at it, tears dripping onto the gem as he cradles it in his palm. All that’s left of you. His hands shake as he holds it to his chest, gripping it tightly as if afraid it might vanish. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the sobs wrack his body. “I should have protected you… I should have stopped you… Why did you do this for me?” His voice cracks, raw with pain.

“You promised we’d stay together…”

---

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months. He barely sleeps anymore. Reduced to a shell of the man he used to be. He has the gem crafted into a necklace, the delicate pendant resting over his heart at all times. He clutches it during sleepless nights, fingers brushing over its smooth surface as he whispers your name into the silence.

“Do you know how much I miss you?” he murmurs one night, his voice hoarse. He’d been crying, again. He always did when the nights were too quiet. “Do you know how much it hurts to wake up every day without you here?” His thumb traces the edges of the gem as if it could bring you back.

Sometimes, when the moonlight hits the gem just right, it seems to shimmer, and he swears he can feel a faint warmth radiating from it. As if you were reassuring him. It’s foolish, he knows, but it’s the only thing keeping him sane at this point.

“I still look for you,” he admits quietly. “In the crowds. In my dreams.”

His voice cracks, and he bows his head, tears falling freely. “I miss you so much. I miss everything about you. Your laugh. Your touch. Your stupid little jokes.” His grip on the gem tightens. “God, I’d give anything to hear you again. To feel you again. Just… once.”

He pauses, his breath catching.

“If I had known…”

His voice trails off as he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Had I known I wouldn’t see you again,

I would have said goodbye.

Unbeknownst to him, the gem begins to glow faintly, a soft, warm light pulsing from within. At first, it’s subtle, almost imperceptible. But then the light grows brighter, more radiant, until it fills the room, making his breath hitch. He freezes, staring at it with wide eyes. For a second, he thinks he’s hallucinating, his grief playing cruel tricks on him. But then he feels it. The familiar hum of your cursed energy. A presence he hadn’t felt in so long.

“…No,” he whispers, weakly shaking his head in disbelief. “No, this can’t be…”

The light begins to shift and shape itself, materializing into something he thought he’d never see again.

You.

“Satoru,” you say, your voice soft and warm, filled with love and longing.

He doesn’t move at first. He can’t. He just stares at you, his entire body trembling. “…Is this real?” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Are you real?”

You smile at him, stepping closer. “It’s real,” you say gently. “I’m real.”

He reaches out, hesitant, as if afraid you might disappear if he touches you. But the moment his hand brushes against yours, his composure shatters. He pulls you into his arms, clutching you tightly, face buried in your shoulder as his body shakes with quiet sobs.

“You’re here,” he says breathlessly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re really here…”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him just as tightly. “I’m here,” you murmur, your voice soothing. “I’m sorry it took so long, Satoru. My cursed energy… it was all but gone after the battle. But there was a sliver of me left in that gem. Over time, I slowly regained my strength… enough to come back to you.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks at you, his tears streaming freely. “I thought I lost you,” he chokes out. “I thought you were gone forever.”

You smile, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. “I was never really gone,” you say softly. “You kept me close the whole time. Thanks for taking such good care of me, even in gem form,” you can’t help but add with a chuckle.

His laugh is shaky, barely more than a breath. “Of course I did,” he says, his voice low and trembling. “It was the one thing that kept me sane. The only thing I had left of you.”

Your heart aches at his words, and you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry for putting you through all that,” you whisper against his lips. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he lets out a long, shaky breath. “You’d better not,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t lose you again. I can’t…”

“You won’t,” you promise, your hands resting against his chest, right over his heart. “You saved me, Satoru. You saved everyone. You were so brave. So strong. I’m so proud of you.”

He shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I didn’t save you,” he says quietly. “You saved me. You always have.”

You smile softly, your hands brushing through his hair. “Then let’s call it even,” you say, your voice light and teasing.

For the first time in a long time, Satoru smiles, warm and genuine, brimming with everything he feels for you. He pulls you back into his arms, holding you tightly as if he’d never let go.

His warmth was the first thing you felt as you entered this strange world. You hope it’s the last thing you’ll feel as you one day leave it behind, together with him.

WHAT IS THIS MASTERPIECE THAT DARED GRACE MY TUMBLR

Puppeteer

Pairing: Doffy x Reader

SFW

Summary: Your life is perfect. Doflamingo has made it that way. But a small slip of the tongue makes you think maybe your husband had more of a hand in the events that lead you to him that you initially thought. Warnings: Fem!Reader, Angst, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Possessive Behavior, Yandere, Doffy is...Doffy Word Count: 7.7k Notes: I've been working on this piece since November, so I'm SO excited to have finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy it!

Your life was perfect. Your husband made sure of it.

You had anything you wanted, when you wanted it, without exception. The life of a queen, even before he had gifted you a crown.

But that wasn’t what mattered to you, really. It was nice, but what you were truly grateful for was how Doflamingo had saved you. From the world, from betrayal, from yourself. You were at risk of falling into a dark place when you met him, and he lifted you up, brought you comfort and protection. To you, his cloak might as well be the wings of an angel.

He insisted that it was nothing. That was simply his job as your lover. He tended to ignore the fact he was not your lover at the time. Destined from the moment you met, you suppose. 

“You might not have known it, but you were always mine. I was simply doing what’s right.”

You had always thought that line was sweet. You thought he meant you were destined, that you were his and he was yours.

For the first time in your life, you were having doubts about that.

It was a small slip up. Almost nothing, really. Baby 5 often goes on long tangents, so it’s a wonder you even noticed what she said, let alone processed it. But while extolling the virtues of her latest obsession, claiming this was true love (as they always are), you couldn’t help but notice an odd phrase in the middle.

“He’s so reliable! He was so worried about me, he said I’m ‘too naive’, and that I need someone to look after me. It reminds me of how Doffy is with you! Isn’t it so sweet that he wants to protect me?” She’s beaming, and you can barely get out your question as she tries to continue her ramble.

“Why does he remind you of Doffy?” Your husband is reliable, of course, and he does his best to look out for everyone in the family, but he would never call you naive. He had never, once, in your decade of marriage implied even for a second he thought you were incapable of looking after yourself.

You had asked him once, very early on in your relationship, why he insisted on doing everything for you, why he waited on you hand and foot when he knew that you would never ask that much of him. He had smiled at you gently, an expression you were sure no other person on the planet had seen, and spoken with such fondness you couldn’t help but melt. “I do this because I love you, little bird. You don’t need to read anything else into it.”

So when Baby 5 smiles again, saying, “He looks at me the way Doffy looks at you,” you can’t help the way your heart drops. You haven’t met this suitor, but you know the way men look at Baby 5. She isn’t a partner to them, she’s a target. A victim. Prey to be lured in and devoured. Your instinct is to say this is simply another delusion on her part, another desperate illusion from her need to be needed. But the way she says it, the look in her eye, it seems far more based in reality than the rest of her spiel. 

But that can’t be right. Your husband loves you, respects you. This is just another part of Baby 5’s incurable lovesickness, her romanticization of any man that gets his claws in her. “The way he looks at me, huh?”

“Yeah! It’s so romantic.” And then she’s off to the races again, completely unaware of the seed she’s planted.

You can’t dig it up, no matter how hard you try. Once a thought is in your head it cannot be unthought. So instead you bury it, as deeply as you can, and you pray that it will not take root, will not be strong enough to break through the soil. You love your husband, your life together. You will not ruin it through unearned paranoia. 

When he comes to bed that night, he finds you lying awake, staring at the ceiling. His voice and hands are gentle, as they always are with you. He has never spoken to you the way he does most people, has always given you the kindness he denies others. He still has a temper, of course, but on the very rare occasions it has turned to you it has been mild, and the apology has been quick. 

“What’s wrong, little bird?” He lays next to you, his arm immediately coming to wrap around you. The weight is comforting, familiar, something that has made you feel safe for as long as you can remember. You try to relax into him, but a voice in you whispers we’re trapped. You feel like you can’t breathe. You want to ignore it, suffer in silence, but your ever observant husband notices immediately, removing his arm with a frown. “Did something happen?”

You sit up, moving toward the window. You need air. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just anxious, is all.”

“Anxious?” His frown deepens. “Darling, you have nothing to worry about. What is it? Let me help.” He follows you, reaching around you to open the window for you, letting the night air in. Your turn to face him. With his arms on either side, his eyes flashing in the moonlight, for a moment you feel like nothing more than an animal in a cage, with a predator bearing down on you.

But then the cold air hits your back, those terrifying eyes are filled with concern, and your husband is back. Of course everything is alright. Of course you have nothing to worry about. You’re happy. Doffy has made sure of it. “It’s just…a horrible feeling I can’t shake. Nothing is actually wrong, I promise.”

He purses his lips a moment, displeased. “If you need something, you’ll have it. You know that, right?” His hand rests on your cheek, cradling you as though you’re the most precious thing in the world. To him, you truly are.

“I know, my love. I promise, it really is nothing.”

He lets out the smallest puff of a sigh. “Alright. I’ll let it go for now. Come back to bed, darling. I won’t be able to sleep without you.” His words start as an order, but his tone turns almost pleading. Doflamingo does not beg, of course, but for you he can at least command politely.

“Of course.” You practically fall into his arms, allowing him to carry you back to your bed. He holds you tightly, as though he’s scared you’ll slip through his fingers the moment he loosens his grip. For a moment you swear you see some tension around his eyes, a slight clench of his jaw, but when you rest your head on his chest it all seems to vanish.

“Goodnight, little bird,” he whispers, pressing the ghost of a kiss to your temple. You fall asleep pressed firmly against his chest, where you’re meant to be.

You bury your doubts. You love him. He loves you. Why is such a small comment enough to throw you? Do you have that little faith in your husband?

Or did it simply uncover concerns you were ignoring? Force them into the light of day when you would much rather have let them rot?

You’re happy. What else could you want or need?

A month passes, then two. You’ve forgotten the conversation. You must have. You don’t lay awake at night, overturning small interactions in your head, desperate to find some hidden meaning in it.

He always calls you little. Is it simple affection, or is it demeaning? Does he see you as less than?

Of course not. Not your Doffy.

“I think I might want to visit home.” You bring it up casually, as you’re tucked against his chest. He’s in his throne, lounging, perfectly relaxed, with you perched on his lap.

He laughs. “Darling, you are home.”

“I know. I mean–I want to visit my home island.”

A miniscule tightening around his eyes. “Why would you want to do that? After everything that they put you through?”

You knew he wouldn’t be keen on the idea. You can’t even figure out why you want to go back, because he’s right: they put you through hell. You were miserable before Doffy got you out of there. Your home had chewed you up and spit you out, and there’s nothing left for you there. It really wasn’t home at all, not anymore. Doffy never liked you referring to it as such.

But a few bad years can’t erase everything it was before the fall. You can remember your childhood, sprinting through the most beautiful flower fields with your friends. Diving into the creek, coming up soaking wet, freezing cold, and feeling freer than you had since. You remember the taste of the pastries at the cafe you used to work at, the same one you met Doflamingo at. In many ways, it was still and would always be home, no matter how long you had been away. No matter what the people there might have done to you.

“I know everything ended terribly, but…”

“But?” A raised brow, a slightly bulging vein on his forehead.

“I still have a lot of good memories from before. Places I miss. People I might be able to forgive, if I saw them again.”

His nostrils flare. His controlled smile finally falls. “Forgive? Darling, they don’t deserve your forgiveness. They don’t even deserve to live in the same world as you, let alone have the privilege of seeing you again. This has been a fun joke and all, but let’s end it here. Going there will only hurt you.” His arm tightens slightly around your waist, hugging you to him protectively.

Possessively, part of your mind whispers.

“It’s been nearly a decade, love. I’ve changed. I’m sure they’ve changed. And…I feel like all of that still hangs over me, sometimes. Even though I’ve tried to let it go. I think going back to see it would help me finally loosen the hold it has over me.”

He doesn’t say no, because you hadn’t been asking for permission. You were simply informing him of your thoughts. He couldn’t make your choices for you. He had never taken away your ability to decide, not once. But somehow his displeasure makes your heart quicken, your stomach churn. When Doffy is displeased, something in you screams that you’ve done something wrong, something you need to fix. You didn’t do anything that he would disagree with, not if you could help it. You always told yourself it was simply because you were partners, that it was natural that you would factor in his opinion.

But how many times had he asked you about his comings and goings? How many times had he told you his plans, instead of just disappearing and reappearing when he decided the time was right?

“You should protect that delicate heart of yours, darling. Who knows what going back would do to it?”

“But I’m different now. Older. Stronger.”

He chuckles, like you’ve told him some silly joke. “But still soft.”

You want to disagree, but there’s something in his tone that makes you feel so horribly small. Weak and vulnerable, some storybook damsel waiting for your prince (or king, in this case) to come sweep you away and fix everything for you. “Do you really think that?”

His eyes narrow slightly at the tone in your voice, the hurt hiding beneath it. His own voice grows softer in turn. “You’re a sensitive soul. It’s one of your best qualities, dear.”

You nod, pushing your face into his neck. You can feel him relax beneath you as you desperately try to stop your thoughts from racing. Are you sensitive, weak, soft? You cannot recall anyone else ever calling you such things. You had been so headstrong when you were young. Perhaps that’s what drove everyone away.

You clutch his shirt tightly, as though tethering yourself to him will simply fix all of this, calm your mind and bring back the peace you used to enjoy. That’s how you got all of this in the first place, really. A strong hand on your back, guiding you away from the burning flames of your old life.

The feeling doesn’t leave. It infuriates you how deeply it’s weaseled its way into you, such a small thing turning over and over and over in your mind. Something so meaningless threatening to pull you apart at the seams. You can feel your edges fraying, feel the way you’re starting to fall apart.

You can still hear Baby 5’s voice whispering in your head. Just like how Doffy looks at you. 

For the first time in your life, you intend to keep a secret from your husband. You scribble the messages quickly, shoving the papers back into your desk when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. You know that you aren’t doing anything wrong, but the idea of disappointing him, disagreeing with him, makes you sick to your stomach.

It’s only once you feel his hand on your shoulder, see his pursed lips as he looms over you where you were lost in your work that you remember that the reason you have never kept a secret from your husband is simply because you couldn’t. He knows everything about you, everything that happens under this room, everything happening within the borders of Dressrosa. You never stood a chance. 

“Darling…” he doesn’t need to continue. His sigh says enough, sets you on the defensive. 

“I never said I wouldn’t send them,” you mutter, a childish anger overtaking you. “And I don’t need your permission.”

His lips set in a thin line. “I never said you did.”

“It’s been nearly a decade. They’ve probably changed. And if they haven’t, then at least I can say I tried.”

His free hand pinches the bridge of his nose as his brow furrows. “Little bird, you’re the only one who ever tried. They never gave you a thing.”

“They gave me plenty.”

“What, then, did they give you? Pain? Suffering? An unending desire to please everyone around you?”

“They gave me plenty, before everything happened.” You can feel your muscles tensing, an unfamiliar anger bubbling up in your chest.

“I can’t recall a single kind thing they ever did for you, my dear.”

“I had a life before you, Doflamingo,” you snap. “Do you really think I’m so helplessly stupid I’d try to reconnect with someone who was nothing but cruel to me? They used to be kind. They used to care about me. Something changed. And if something changes once, it can change again. I’m not some doe-eyed fool begging for a kind touch from a hand that’s only ever bruised me. I’m just going to give them a chance to redeem themselves, or at least explain themselves.” You’re breathing heavily, teeth clenching. You very rarely raise your voice at your husband, but you’re tired of this. Of him looking at you like you’re so defenseless, so pathetic.

There’s a strange look in his eyes when you finish, something you can’t place. He takes his hands off of you, putting them up in surrender. “Of course, dear. I didn’t mean to imply you were incapable. I simply worry about my wife.” There’s an emphasis on his last words, on your title, your role. “But I suppose I shouldn’t presume to know about…your life before me.”

He spits the words like they’re poison in his mouth.

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before you realize the situation you’re in. You’re the one keeping secrets. You’re the one who snapped. You’re the one who wouldn’t drop the issue. You, you, you. A part of you screams that he’s the one who pushed you, but aren’t you still the one who jumped?

“...I’m sorry, love, for snapping. I know you worry.”

He doesn’t move.

“I understand why you’re concerned, really. I just…this feels like something I have to do.”

Still nothing.

“If they don’t respond, then I’ll drop it. I just want to take a chance.”

He lets out a breath, before he wraps his arms around you. “Of course, dear.” His grip on you grows a little tighter. “I just can’t help but want to protect you. It’s my job, after all. And I take it very seriously.”

“I know. I appreciate the sentiment, I just wish you trusted me a bit more.”

His voice grows softer. “Oh, dear, of course I trust you. It’s everyone else that I don’t trust.” He chuckles quietly. “Well, if it’s really that important to you, I won’t stand in your way. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

You sigh, burying your nose in his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And so the envelopes are sealed the next day, handed off to a servant to be shipped off.

You keep telling yourself the letters don’t mean anything. Don’t have anything to do with the creeping dread slowly overtaking you. This is simply an act of connection, of potential forgiveness. It has nothing to do with your home life. But you can’t deny the way your eyes keep nervously drifting over each envelope labeled with your name, the disappointment when it never has the return address you were hoping for. Weeks pass, then months. 

Whenever he catches you lingering near the mailbox, Doffy always gives you a sympathetic look, a small click of the tongue. “Don’t you see, darling? You expect too much of them. You give people far more credit than they deserve.”

“It’s all the way in the North Blue. Mail can take a while to get there.” You don’t sound convincing, even to your own ears.

He sighs. “I hate seeing you hurt yourself like this, dear.” He approaches from behind, wrapping his arms around you, tucking you tightly against him, rocking you slightly. “Don’t give your attention to those unworthy of it. You have everyone and everything you need right here.”

He’s right. He’s always right.

You wait anyway.

The letters never come.

You expected this, it stings anyway. Even now, they can’t even spare you a thought. Your life was ripped to shreds, and they can’t even give you this. You don’t even exist in their memories anymore. You’re the only one who carries this pain, and you do it alone.

You try to talk to Doffy about it again, and while he plays the doting husband, you can see the satisfaction in his eyes. The pity in his face as he cradles you, the condescending, “Oh, dear, I knew you’d hurt yourself like this. You don’t need them," just screams I told you so. You can only be thankful he doesn’t say it aloud, his smile all teeth as he chuckles and pets your head like some pampered pet.

But he wouldn’t do that. He loves you.

The restlessness you feel doesn’t subside. You’ve taken to wandering aimlessly through the palace, as though you’ll suddenly find the answers hiding around a dusty corner and you’ll find the peace you so desperately crave. You want normalcy again. You want to lay in your husband’s arms and not wonder how much of his softened gaze and gentle caress is a lie, a carefully constructed act meant to keep you where he wants you. You know it isn’t true, really.

But the gnawing continues all the same.

The answers you wished for come in the form of an overfilled trash can.

You occasionally bring snacks to Doflamingo while he’s working. He doesn’t like you being in his office for long, preferring to keep you separated from the messy goings on of his work life, but you can tell he enjoys these small visits. Sometimes, on days when he isn’t busy, he pulls you onto his lap, allowing you to curl into him and enjoy the feeling of safety in his arms as he fills out miscellaneous paperwork or checks over maps. You used to cherish those moments.

Today’s conversation is brief, Doflamingo’s frustration with some issue or another clear in his every action. His teeth are clenched even as he thanks you, even as his lips brush against your temple before you turn to leave. You can’t help the jitteriness you feel, the way his discomfort sends a buzzing through your body. Once he makes it clear you cannot fix the issue (in as gentle of a tone as he’s capable of), you’re ready to make your escape, to hope the nausea subsides once you’re far enough away. You’re so upset you almost miss the envelope in the trashcan next to the door, no writing visible except for the return address.

It’s from a little island in the North Blue, known for its beautiful flower fields. 

You can’t help the choked noise that escapes your throat.

“Are you alright?” His eyes glance up from the paper in front of him, the slightest hint of concern behind them.

“What’s this?” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your hand begins to reach for the trashcan, but you pull it back at the last second. No, it can’t be. And if it is, you don’t want to know.

“What’s what, darling?”

He wouldn’t do this to you. It’s a coincidence. There’s dozens of businesses on the island, many of which might be useful for a king and even more useful for a pirate. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, do this to you.

“This letter.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, your hands shaking. The only thing that keeps you from exploding is the genuine confusion on his face. “What letter?”

You fish it out of the trashcan, slowly bringing it back to him. It’s covered in spilled ink which has soaked through the paper. It’s clear that the letter inside is ruined, and the only thing you can make out on the front is a street name and the island. “Why was this in the trash?”

He frowns, his brow furrowing. He reaches for it, investigating it so thoroughly you can convince yourself this is the first time he’s seen it. It’s only when his gaze falls to the address that his eyes light up in understanding. “Oh. Oh, dear.”

“Was this for me?”

“I don’t know, dear, but there’s certainly a chance.” His voice is gentle as he reaches for you. “I’m sorry if it was. I don’t know what happened.”

It’s unlike him to apologize. It’s unlike him to admit to not knowing, to not being in absolute control. But god, you want it to be true. You want the comfort he offers. You fall into him, pressing your face into his chest, barely holding back a sob. “What if it was? What if that’s the only response I’ll get, and it’s gone forever? What if my only chance at peace has slipped through my fingers?”

His hands are gentle as they rub circles on your back. “I’ll figure out what happened. I promise whoever did this will be punished, little bird. I’ll never tolerate someone hurting you.” His lips brush against the top of your head, kind and caring and protective, exactly how you’ve always known him to be. “I had others in my office earlier, I’m sure one of them did this. I’ll find out who.”

It takes him nearly an hour to calm you down, but he does it without rushing. All of his work, his empire, set aside for you. How could you doubt him, even for a moment, with your proof of his devotion right here?

He tucks you gently into your shared bed after you calmed down, encouraging you to take a nap to recuperate. A glass of water is left by the bedside for you, and he places an extra blanket on top of you to keep you warm and cozy. 

You don’t know how long your nap is. It certainly isn’t long, considering the sun is still in the sky, but it was enough to ease the pounding in your head from the sobbing. You aren’t thinking as you crawl out of bed and begin to wander in the direction of your husband’s office. You’re still a little upset, a little off kilter, and while it may be selfish to interrupt him twice in a day you want to bask in his care a bit more.

An angry voice stops you in your tracks.

“You threw them out?” He sounds furious, his voice booming down the hall. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, should trust your husband to take care of it, but you linger near the door anyway.

“You said to get rid of them!” You don’t recognize the voice, but you recognize the fear. It’s how everyone sounds in front of Doflamingo, faced with his power and grace. With the knowledge he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever he needed to them to get what he wanted.

“Yes, and I expected you to do it right! Burn them, rip them up, whatever it takes! To make sure nobody finds them! Not leave them sitting at the top of a trash can, in my office, where anybody can see them! I’m used to being surrounded by fools, but this is beyond comprehension!” You hear the cracking of wood, and somehow you know he’s broken his desk. As much as you want to stay and hear the rest, the bile rising in your throat forces you away, back to your room, where you can hide under the covers and finally break down.

He had been taking your letters. You knew that, really, but you had so badly wanted to convince yourself otherwise. He had made sure you would never want to go back, simply because he didn’t want you to. He took your choice away. Why was he so desperate to keep you here? What harm was there in you finally letting go of everything that happened?

You had been miserable. You had spent years terrified that Doflamingo would abandon you next, just like your family and friends did. You had clutched him so tightly your knuckles turned white, and he had cooed and assured you he would never leave you, not like they did. “I love you, little bird. You’re mine. It’s my job to protect and care for you, and I intend to do that for the rest of my life.”

Is that how he wanted you? Insecure and desperate to remain at his side? Perhaps he loved you because you were easy. So eager to please, to bend yourself to his will until you nearly snap as long as it keeps him around, keeps anybody around. Maybe he was as desperate as you were, in a way, because it didn’t have to be him you latched onto.

You bite your cheek hard enough to draw blood. No more thoughts like that. It had to be Doflamingo. He was your husband, your family, and nothing can take that away. Not even this betrayal. Surely he thought he was doing what was best for you. He may be selfish, but never when it comes to you.

This was controlling, it was wrong, but it wasn’t cruel. And as loathe as you are to admit it, it wasn’t out of character. He’s always been in control, his entire life. It wouldn’t seem wrong to him for that to extend to some of yours.

You should go in and talk to him. You should figure out why he would do this. Some twisted form of protection? Jealousy? Fear? You should do something, anything, to get to the bottom of this.

You crawl back into bed instead.

You accept his embrace when he joins you. You don’t push him away when he rolls on top of you, whispering how much he loves you, how happy he is that you’re his. You fall asleep in his arms, as you’ve always done.

You spent months begging the universe for answers, for some sort of proof, and now that you’ve gotten it, you’re sticking your head in the sand. What a coward. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry with him. Maybe you’re in shock, or maybe he’s just done such a good job at clipping your wings you simply don’t know what to do without him, and you don’t care to find out. You tell yourself you just love him, trust him. You ignore any whisper in your head that says the contrary.

The days pass normally, as quickly as they always do. You almost feel normal, after a while, have almost convinced yourself that everything is fine, as it’s always been.

The bird at your window is a surprise. It taps hurriedly, almost as though it’s afraid to tarry for too long. The letter tied to its leg somehow isn’t.

The script is hurried and messy. You recognize it immediately. It was written by a boy you had once run through the wild with, one you had shared every step of growing up with. It was his betrayal that had hurt the most.

The letter is nearly impossible to decipher. Your friend always did have terrible handwriting. You used to tease him for how nobody else could figure out what he meant, how sometimes even he couldn’t read his own writing. But you were always good at it, somehow always on the same page as him, no matter how small his chicken scratch was.

I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again. I’m glad I did. I’ve missed you, all of these years. I’ve wondered if you were safe, if you were happy.

I’m sorry for my cowardice. I’m sorry for pushing you away. But I was scared. That pirate made himself very clear: get away from you, or he was going to kill me.

No.

No, no, no.

No, that can’t be right.

I don’t know if he meant it. But with everything else that came after, I suspect he did. I don’t know what he said to your landlord, or your boss, or anyone else. But I know he spoke to them, and I know you were gone soon after. I’m sorry I was never brave enough to tell you in person, or to send you this letter until now. I didn’t know where you went, and I was sure you’d never want to speak to me again anyway. 

I’m glad you’re safe, or as safe as you can be. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I would be now, if I could. Not that that means much, really.

You place the paper down, shoving your head in your hands. No. This can’t be true. He may be controlling, he may be overprotective, but he would never hurt you. Not like this. Your husband would never have purposefully made you miserable. He would do a lot, but not that.

But you can’t help but remember how perfect his timing was, every time. How he’d gently encouraged you to open up in the days after you realized your friends were ignoring you. How he found you sobbing outside of the cafe after you’d been fired. How he found you idly wandering the streets after your landlord kicked you out. How he found you every time, right on time, assuring you that you didn’t need to worry anymore, that you could just rely on him now. That he always looked after his family, and he would love for you to be a part of it.

You look back on your life together. Had you ever made the choice to be here, or did he simply lure you in with the right bait every time? How many steps had you taken without realizing he was the one leading you here?

You could excuse a lot, deny even more. You can tell yourself again and again that he loved you, that everything he’s done has been for your own good. But hurting you? Hurting the people you loved? Even you couldn’t justify that.

He doesn’t even look up when you walk into his office. He hums quietly in acknowledgement, his pen scratching softly against the page. It’s only when you furiously slam the letter down on his desk that he finally looks at you.

“What’s this, darling?”

“I finally got a response. An intact one.”

He glances down at it, sneering slightly. “Intact? Dear, that’s illegible.”

“Did you threaten my friends for talking to me?”

He’s an excellent liar, a well practiced one. But you’ve known him for a decade, spent hours staring at him, starry eyed, tracking his every move. You can see the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the slight narrowing of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“How many people have you done this to, Doflamingo?”

He huffs. “None. What are you talking about? Who said this to you?”

“Why do you want to know? So you can make good on your promise to hurt him?” You begin to pace, fury bubbling beneath your skin. “I can’t believe you would do this.”

“I want to know so I can know who you’re believing over your own husband.” He puts on an air of hurt, one that tugs at your heartstrings, but you won’t fall this time.

“I have tried to believe in you again and again, pushing down my doubt because I was so sure my husband would never do anything like this. But the evidence just keeps coming.”

“What evidence, exactly?” He snaps, annoyance slipping through. “The crazed ranting of some jealous old acquaintance? One who hurt you beyond repair a decade ago?”

“The first goddamn letter you tried to get rid of, first off all.” He opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “Don’t try to deny it, I heard you losing your mind on whoever you told to do it. I tried so hard to tell myself you were doing it out of some misguided attempt to protect me, but this proves you just did it to protect yourself. You just didn’t want me to know what you’d done.”

He sighs. “Dear, you’re working yourself up into a frenzy. You couldn’t have heard something that never happened.”

“Don’t lie to me! God, you must think I’m so stupid. You always have. And why wouldn’t you? I’ve fallen for everything, this entire time! I kept telling myself that this was normal, that you loved me, that this was what I wanted. I was so scared of losing you I let you look me in the eye and lie to me every goddamn day.”

“You want the truth?” He’s standing now, walking around the desk that separated you. “Can you handle that, dear? We can’t take back our words.”

You barely suppress the frustrated sob working its way out of your mouth. “Yes, please, give me the truth. That’s all I want.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, the way it always does. God, he has to make this so hard. “I’ll always give you what you want.” He reaches out, but you take a step back. He gives you your space, for now. “When we first met, I may have had a few…long talks with some people you knew. Just to make my intentions clear.”

“How many people?”

“I can’t recall exact numbers.”

“Are you why I lost my job at the cafe?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

“Are you why I got evicted?”

“Yes.”

You curl in on yourself. “God. What the hell? Why would you do this to me?” You can feel your world crashing down as every memory of the last ten years is tainted, rotting from the inside out. It was never real. None of it. “Why would you ruin my life? What did I ever do to you? Why did you pick me up after like some stray dog? Did you feel guilty?”

You expected anger. He was always prone to it, after all. You had expected his tense shoulders and gnashing teeth, a fierce insistence that you were wrong to be upset, to question him. That he was right like always, and that anything he did was simply the best option to some grand end goal you couldn’t see. What you hadn't anticipated was the confusion: the look on his face so lost it was almost childlike. "Ruin your life? You wanted this. I gave you what you wanted."

"You think I wanted–what, to be miserable?”

He has the audacity to look concerned. “Are you miserable? You’re supposed to be happy.”

“Happy? You hurt people! Hurt me!"

He bristles at that. "I never hurt you. You are my wife, my family, my responsibility. I look out for you. I protect you. Those obstacles were–"

"Obstacles? Doflamingo, they were people!” 

“They’re nothing compared to you.”

You feel like you’re slamming your head into the wall. What is he not getting? Why does he not seem to think he’s done anything wrong? Why would he hide it if he thought he was right? “Nothing? I–God. What would ever make you think I wanted any of this?"

"You told me yourself!" He says it with such conviction.

You’re about to scream, to run out of this office and into the night, never to be seen again. He must be insane. More than you ever thought possible. 

But suddenly you remember it. A small conversation, a month or two after you first met. You didn’t even know his name yet, only knew him as the handsome blond who always tipped well. He had been sipping his coffee slowly, an excuse to keep occupying the table and, in turn, you. His question had seemed so innocent then.

"Do you want to leave this place?"

"What?"

"Are you happy here, I mean. Do you really want to stay here, working yourself to the bone, when you could be living in the lap of luxury?"

You laugh. "I don't know what kind of luxury I could get so easily. Things like that don't just come to people like me. I have bills to pay."

He hums quietly. "But if it could come? Would you really still be here if you had someone to take care of you? If you didn't have to worry about all of this?"

You give a sardonic smile as you wipe down his table. "Mister, you say it like it's so easy. I have things to do, people to help. I couldn't leave them behind just because it'd be better for me."

You can't see them through his sunglasses, but somehow you feel his eyes pierce through you anyway. "But if all of that wasn't a concern? Then you'd want to leave?"

"Sure, in that fantasy world, I'd love to see what the world has to offer. But I live here, in reality, and I have another table glaring at me, so I'll be back in a few minutes."

And that was it. Such a small exchange, barely worth noting.

You never thought much of the conversation. You really didn't. But sitting here, now, you're starting to see it for what it was to him: permission. An invitation to do whatever he thought would get you here. Why wouldn't a pirate act on such an opportunity?

You can barely swallow the bile rising in your throat.

“You couldn’t have possibly–” Your voice catches, and through his frustration you see something almost resembling pity peek through for just a moment. Somehow that’s the most infuriating part of all of this.

“Couldn’t have what? Thought you were being honest? I knew you were, darling. I knew you were meant to be here. I knew you would never have taken the first step with everyone in that shithole holding you down. What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should have fucking done! You don’t ruin lives over a stupid flight of fucking fancy–”

“Don’t call it that.” There’s that oh so familiar rage. His teeth clenched, his nails digging into his fists, his eyes burning so hot from behind his glasses you can feel the room raise a couple degrees. “Don’t you dare demean what we have. Don’t dismiss the last ten years. You are my wife. My partner. Mine.”

He’s stalking toward you, long past worrying about frightening you.

“Don’t you dare treat my devotion like some schoolboy’s crush.”

You think you would laugh if your heart were not beating out of your chest. Before today, you would have sworn your husband would never hurt you. But now, you don’t know if you can trust anything you think. Not anymore. Clearly you’re an idiot, naive and foolish, incapable of sensing danger even when it’s right in front of you. So when he reaches for you, you flinch.

He has the gall to look hurt. His posture relaxes as he reaches for you again, slower this time. His hands reach to delicately cradle your face, but you pull away, curling in on yourself. “Don’t touch me.”

“Darling–”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me. I’m not your darling. I don’t even know who you are. My entire life is a lie.” You barely manage to hold in a sob. He boxes you in, trying to pull you into his arms, wash away your pain as he always does. You fall to the floor, curling into a ball, desperately trying to avoid him. This familiar softness might break you. “Don’t touch me.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, but he doesn’t back away. “Your life isn’t a lie, little bird. Everything that matters is still true: I’m your husband and I love you.”

“Do you?”

The corner of his eye twitches. “Of course I do. Do you think I would do all of this for anyone? Only for you, my dear. Only you’re worth all of this. I’m sorry for frightening you, but I promise everything I have ever done is for you.” His voice is soft and cautious, as though he’s trying to lure in a wounded animal. You suppose in a way he is.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You pull yourself in tighter, your nails digging into your legs, the pain the only thing grounding you.

“You didn’t have to do anything. You were mine from the moment I saw you.” He says it with a dreamy tone, one that could be easily confused for a normal husband, so deeply in love with his wife. But beneath it there’s an obsession, a depravity to it.

“I don’t want to be yours.” The pitiful protest of a child, weak and wavering.

“Oh, darling, you don’t mean that.” He bends down to look you in the eye, put himself on your level. The condescension sets your teeth on edge. “I know you’re upset, dear, but you shouldn’t say things like that. A lesser man would be hurt.”

“A better man would believe me.”

You see the flash of rage that he swallows down before he opens his mouth again. “You’re lucky I’m patient, lover. Who knows what would happen if I took these little provocations seriously.”

“You never take me seriously.” So much of your life spent under the thumb of a man who didn’t even trust you to choose him yourself. Who didn’t trust you to choose a life together.

“You’re clearly overwhelmed. Take a minute to collect yourself.”

He didn’t disagree. So many lies for so many years, but he can’t give you the one you really want to hear.

“I want to go home.” Your voice is so pathetic, so broken.

“You are home.” His voice is gentle, but firm. A statement, a command beneath it. He leaves no room for disagreement.

“No. No, I’m not.” You close your eyes, picturing fields of your childhood. The smell of the flowers, the feeling of the sunlight on your face. The last time you had truly been free.

“You’re home, and you aren’t leaving.”

You feel yourself being pulled forward, your arms moving of their own volition.

No, not their own.

His.

His strings force your arms around him as he engulfs you in a suffocating embrace. His voice is no less sickeningly adoring than it was before. "Do what you want to me, darling. Hate me, fear me, hurt me. Rip me to shreds with your own two hands if you wish. But don't you dare leave me. You can do whatever you want as long as you're home safe."

Your voice trembles as you whisper, "And what if I wanted to leave?"

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, the condescending amusement of someone hearing a child wish for the impossible. "You don't. If you wanted to leave, you wouldn't have come here. Wouldn't have confronted me. Hell, you would have left the moment you found that first letter. Face it, little bird, you chose your cage. You love it here."

"But if I really wanted to?"

He smiles, all teeth. "Then I'd find you and bring you home.”

When he leans down to kiss you, you don’t have the energy to pull away. You can’t even feel afraid anymore as a deep sense of resignation washes over you. Ten years. Ten years of your life, gone if you leave. Your past burned under Doflamingo’s watchful eye, ensuring you have nowhere to return. Where else can you rest except your marriage bed?

It is that same bed he carries you to now, as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. The same bed where he takes you, as he has all these years. The same bed you’re pinned to, weighed down by an arm thrown across your waist. Despite everything, despite the fear and rage choking you, the feeling is somehow comforting.

Neither of you speak of it the next morning. What is there to say, really?

Your life is perfect. Your husband has made it so.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

orpheus

synopsis. he looked back.

pairing. portgas d. ace x f!reader (afab)

word count. 7.1k | masterlist

content warning. marineford/post-war arc spoilers, reader is coded black (written ambiguously. anyone can read), character study, childhood friends to lovers, open-ended

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

my premiere fic on this acc! as someone who was watching op back when it aired on 4kids, ace has been my favorite character for over a decade. so come to my inbox and let's talk about how much we love him! the 'poem' the reader recites is actually a quote from this short film you should definitely watch

Dadan is doing your hair before bed when you learn of this story.

The night is late on Mt. Corvo, baths taken and house cleaned after the chaos of dinner. Much too late for you to trek down to your home in Windmill Village, ensuring that for the fifth night in the row you'd be spending the night at your friends' house. ("You're going home tomorrow," Dadan insisted, hands on her hips sternly. "This a base for bandits, not a daycare!")

The one who mentions the story is Leif.

The man is a strange case among Dadan's brood with his glasses and delicate mannerisms. Someone who seems like he should be a normal person in society rather a bandit. Perhaps that's what makes him so useful to Dadan's team; he looks like a normal person. He seldom swears, seldom drinks himself tired. Most evenings, like now, it isn't strange to see him reading a book in the living room among his friends by the window. Suddenly, he shudders, setting his book aside and closing the window firmly with a click of his tongue. "Orpheus must have looked at Eurydice," he mutters.

"Who- hey!" Luffy cries belligerently when the brief moment of distraction leads to Sabo smacking his hands. They're playing some sort of hand game where you're supposed to move your hands before your opponent hits them. 'Reflex training' Ace called it. "No fair!"

Sabo grins with a victorious laugh, ignoring Luffy's demands for a rematch. "You snooze you lose, Luffy!"

Ace's expression is just as smug, "your reflexes suck."

Amusing as their antics are, you wave an arm to regain Leif's attention. "Who's Orpheus and Eurydice?"

"Ohoho," Leif perks up, pleased. "They're characters from an old story."

Luffy cocks his head, "how old?"

"Older than Dadan probably," Sabo surmises without a second thought.

"Brat," Dadan seethes under her breath. She turns your head to an angle, beginning the first of your french breads.

Eyes wide with intrigue, you lean forward eagerly before Dadan's grip on your hair reminds you your actions are limited. Dadan picks carefully through the accumulated naps and tangles. The woman's only solace is that you're not tender-headed. You can't afford to be when most of your daytime activities lead to your hair being filled with sticks and leaves. ("What on earth are you brats doing for your hair to get like this?" You and Luffy share a look, snickering mischievously. It's no secret to anyone in this house that the woman's exasperation is worse than her bite.) "I wanna hear the story!"

Leif is more than happy to recount the tale of two lovers.

You liken the story to the life and death of spring.

The new life of spring is in their love as their dance causes petal after petal to bloom in the wake of their steps. But spring's death is in Orpheus’ turn and the sorrow that follows. In that stillness of spring that one seldom notices.

Orpheus’ delight in seeing the sun.

Eurydice's stumble.

Her silence.

Maybe he thinks he’s been tricked.

Regardless the variety of the tale, it all ends the same Leif tells you gravely. Dramatically, as if singing a song. Orpheus looks back and his beloved disappears.

The death of spring itself.

It's the most beautiful story you've ever heard.

"Well that's dumb," Ace crosses his arms, thoroughly unimpressed. "The exit was right there. He couldn't wait five minutes?" It doesn't take long for Luffy to agree with the eldest of his brothers, arms crossed with a matching expression.

Sabo rests a hand on his chin thoughtfully, "and if he heard her stumble in one version, he should have known she was actually there and not a trick."

Ericht, a hardy man with a throaty voice chuckles, raising a tankard at the boys' words. "See, Leif? Even the kids think it's ridiculous!"

"I don't think it's dumb," it's hard to be taken seriously when your head is at 45 degree angle, however. "It's sad and pretty."

"At least one of you lot have taste," Leif huffs, index finger raised indignantly to the air. "The rest of you are completely missing the point! It’s human nature to look! That’s what makes the story beautiful! It’s human to love. Love is why Orpheus looks back. He wants to tell Eurydice the sun is right around the corner! He’s worried for her safety. He’s afraid he’s been tricked-”

Luffy stands firmly, hand resting on his puffed out chest, "I wouldn't have looked back!"

"Me neither!" Ericht proclaims.

"Hear, hear!"

A clank of mugs and a chorus of cheers ensue and his audience is lost. Leif plops down beside yourself and Dadan in annoyed defeat. "This is what happens when you try to bring classics to criminals."

"You're a criminal," Dadan reminds the man with a snort.

It's a comment that causes the mild bandit to laugh. "I suppose you have a point there," he chortles. Moments like this makes you wonder once more why he turned to crime instead of academics. In another life, perhaps Leif becomes a teacher. Leif gives you with a small smile, sparing a glance the rest in the room. "They would have looked," he says just quiet enough for you to hear and you giggle as if you've been told a funny secret.

The rest of the night is uneventful as Dadan finishes your hair. She rushes the four of you to bed as soon as possible and even then, you rowdily have one final round of sparring before settling down. (At least Luffy doesn't fall through the floorboards this time!) Sleep doesn't find you as easily, your mind full as Sabo and Luffy snore around you. Turning onto your side, you stare at Ace's back.

"Ace," your whisper is just barely audible over the cacophony of sleep. "You awake?"

There's enough beat of silence before Ace shuffles, turning around to face you. You blink, unsure if its surprise you feel or otherwise. You'd suspected he hadn't been sleeping when you noticed how quiet he'd been. Yet you're taken aback he turned around anyway. It's strange. “What?”

"Would you look back if you were Orpheus?"

"That story again?" Ace whispers incredulously. You don't need a light to know his brow is furrowed in disbelief.

"I feel bad for Orpheus," you murmur as you recall Leif's words. It was a beautiful story as much as it was sad. "He just wanted to be with his wife again and now he can't ever be with her again." It's human nature to look, Leif said. It's human to love. It's what makes the story beautiful. With more quiet than noise in the room, it's not as easy seeing the beauty. But I can, you squeeze your hand into a tiny ball in quick protest. Apparently it is also human to be contradictory. I think I can see the beauty. Maybe the beauty is what makes it so sad.

There's a brief sigh that leaves the boy and you wonder if he's annoyed until he asks, "well would you look?"

The dance of spring. The death of it in Orpheus' turn.

If it was Ace or Sabo or Luffy behind me…

When you look behind you to see how far away Luffy is.

When Sabo swallows his saliva the wrong way and coughs.

The moments where Ace falls quiet and suddenly, even if he is with you and his brothers, he looks like the loneliest boy in the world.

You look back every time.

"Yeah," you curl into yourself into a small ball. A sigh escapes your lips in your admittance. "I guess we'd never see each other again, huh?"

You half-expect Ace to balk at your words. 'Why am I Eurydice, huh? I'm a guy!' Instead he's quiet and you wish you could see his face so you can try and guess what he's thinking. It's when Ace is quiet when he's the hardest to read. "Well," Ace proposes after a moment. "Maybe Hades'll be nice and Orpheus can try again some day. That time he won't mess up." He pauses, scratching the side of his head. "So stop being all sad about it."

A warmth settles in your chest at his clumsiness. "Yeah."

A particularly loud snore from Luffy makes you both snort silently. You hope the bright-hearted boy never changes. Once your amusement subsides, you yawn. "You never answered my question though," you yawn once again. Sleep will be upon you soon. "Would you look back too?"

"No, dummy," Ace replies without a second thought.

Your cheeks puff into a petulant pout, "Leif said looking is what makes us human."

There's another beat of silence.

"Maybe I'm not human then," it's a reply void of Ace's typical cocksure and defiant attitude. There's a shuffle and Ace turns around, his back facing you once more. "Night."

"… Night."

The next day, life continues as it always does. If anything, this nest of thieves in the mountains is as much a home to you as it is for the actual residents. A stray shoe of yours there, a few shirts that belong to you there. Even the rituals of the morning are your own, rushing out of the house before Dadan can wrangle your band into chores.

Hunting for your own breakfast with steel pipes and vinegar and a healthy dose of throttling thugs for your pirate savings.

Ace and Sabo with wide smiles, making sure Luffy and his tiny legs are keeping up.

Ace huffing when you trip and fall on your face, reaching out a hand for you to grab regardless of his gripes.

Orpheus and Eurydice aren't far from your thoughts.

"What are you smiling about," Ace raises an eyebrow as he tugs you onto your feet.

"Nothing," you laugh airily in return. You're human.

Ace looks back at you again another time, more concerned than his grouchiness let's on as he grumbles you're not talking as much as you always do. It's rich coming from the guy who constantly complained you talked to much your face when you were first getting to know him. "It's better when you don't shut up than when you're quiet," he barks when you point this out. "It's weird."

(You're human.)

The island is covered in snow the day you decide you'd join Ace's crew after months of indecision. Your vision of freedom is different from your friends'; you don't want to be a captain of your own crew. You don't want the worries of having to lead. So, the boys decide, you have to join one of theirs. It's hard picking between your friends. That indecision goes out the window the day you meet Old Man Naguri and you listen to his tales about his battle against Roger for all of until whenever you notice Ace leaving quietly.

"Ace," he turns around, surprised at your sudden appearance. He must have been deep in his thoughts if he didn't hear the snow crunching underfoot. "Are you okay? It's okay if you were scared of Naguri's story." Although the man had told it warmly ー fondly, even ー it's a haunting thought that they were defeated so easily when the older man was so strong.

Despite your attempts to comfort him, Ace is quick to shut down that train of thought immediately. "I wasn't scared," he retorts. "I just don't feel like hearing stories about Roger." He doesn't expand on his reasons and you decide not to ask. You only one the look on his face ー the lonely one ー to leave him. You never want to see him make that face ever again.

So you change the topic; ask him if he thinks Naguri's old crewmates would ever want to sail the seas together again as you walk back to your secret base. "I dunno," the dark-haired boy shrugs. The freckles on his face almost seem like snowflakes in the surrounding weather. "Probably not," he decides with a grumble. "Their adventures are over now so what's the point in staying together at that point?"

It crosses your mind not for the first time that Ace is the most independent kid you know. Maybe one of the loneliest. Even if it's different, you understand the feeling. You were the weird one in your group of friends in Windmill Village. The one too loud and too strange, lost in daydreams and content to play all the roles yourself if it came down to it. The kid with animal bones and dead flowers mixed into your collection along with seashells and stones. You couldn't curb those interests.

Not for any lack of trying, however.

You did try.

You just couldn't. You tried talking less, you tried being normal but you inevitably would open your mouth and your oddities rolled off as naturally as breathing.

No one on Mt. Corvo is normal, however. That's what makes you fit in. Ace's problem, whatever it is, doesn't seem like it's the same.

"Well I'd stay with you," you tell him earnestly; vehemently. It isn't enough to say it if Ace doesn't believe you. "Even if the adventure's over too. You're my friend." The adventures could be over and there could be no more treasures left to find but you'd still stay with him. "We can find another journey to go on after the first one and another one after that. And even we don't have anymore to go on, I'll still stay with you! Then you won't be alone when the journey's over because I'll still be there."

There's a pause, a blink and Ace lets out a sound of surprise. "But you said you didn't want to ch-"

"I'm choosing your crew right now, duh!" You rest your hands on your hips, nose pointed in the air. "Got it, Captain Ace?"

Ace's cheeks are cherry red from the cold but his usual frown shifts into a something as bright as the sun. "Fine, but I'll be a strict captain, you know!"

We're all Orpheus, you kick up snow with wide footsteps while you and Ace excitedly discuss all the things that would be on your ship. All the places you should go on your ship. It's because we're human. You think as much as your hands brush against one another, cold and warm at the same time.

You think as much when you both turn to Sabo and Luffy loudly returning home with a-

"Oh, hey guys! I didn't know that you were home!"

"Oh, Ace! I didn't know that your father was Roger!"

A look akin to horror blossoms across Ace's face as he looks back at you at break neck speed.

(You're human.

You knew Ace was human all the times he looked back at you before. You still know he is human when he meekly asks one week later if you still want to be part of his crew. It's the smallest you've ever seen him and the most uncertain.

"You're stuck with me forever, you dummy!")

𖤓

Orpheus and his dilemma doesn't return to the forefront of your mind again until the Burning of the Gray Terminal. You hug your knees to your chest, pressed against Ace firmly now that it's over. He doesn't make to push you away, nor does he call you a 'baby' despite how quick he was to disparage Luffy and his tears earlier.

You can still hear the fire roaring in your ears; the smoke thick, darkening the sky and Bluejam holding you at gunpoint. Sabo was gone, taken by his noble family and far from the chaos unfolding in the slums of the Goa Kingdom.

For the first time in your young life, you understood what hell on earth looked like.

The screams of the helpless drowned out in fire; a mysterious power knocking all but Bluejam himself unconscious. You were never one for believing in gods but Dadan and her band's intervention was nothing short of a miracle. Still fear had gripped you in your entirety, draped over Ericht's shoulder, when you saw Ace wasn't running behind you guys.

"I'll never run away," he proclaimed, defiant as ever. The sparks surrounding you look as if they were stars leaping from his body. A display that, in any other situation, would have looked breathtaking. He was that boy ー your boy ー in the fire. Your boy who never turned around, not even when Dadan went to stay with him.

Look back, You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream it for the whole world to hear. Look back!

He didn't.

You didn't see them again until over a week has passed and the belief they'd been reduced to nothing but ash nearly took hold of you.

You never want to experience anything like that again.

You're sure you'll love Dadan for the rest of your life. Her skin is wrapped nearly head to toe in bandages and the burnt ends of her coily hair will need to be cut off. Still she's alive. You'll take Dadan bandaged and bruised over any other possibility. She speaks for all of you when she wearily asks Ace, "why didn't you run away?"

The answer isn't immediate as Ace mulls over his answer. You're too tired to press him to hurry in divulging his secrets. "Sometimes, I get so angry," the boy begins gingerly. Tenderly, as if he doesn't want to touch a bruise too firmly. "And I feel like if I run away, I'll lose something I could never get back. And this time, Luffy and," he trails off unexpectedly. Your head dips as he shifts to scratch his head, one of his tics. "They were behind me. I don't know why but that's probably the reason."

They're words that make your lips tremble. "It's 'cause you're human," you mumble, exhausted. "You're human. Like Orpheus." You close your eyes, ready to drift asleep on Ace's shoulder. You won't cry; you've cried enough to last a lifetime. "Being Orpheus is scary."

Dadan sighs testily, "that old story again?" Her words are more amused than disgruntled. "Leif, quit teaching weird stuff to the kids."

"They're taking after my love of the classics," Leif sniffs wetly. "There's nothing weird about it at all. She's right," it must be a vindicating feeling for the both of you. "It is scary to be Orpheus."

Maybe it's why Ace didn't look back. You press into his shoulder more firmly. "You don't have to be scared next time, I'll be there too." I'll protect you.

"I wasn't scared," he protests, resting his head atop yours. "You were the scared one." There are no arguments to be had there.

(It's a few hours later Dogra comes home, news pertaining to Sabo freezing your blood.

You never see the boy with the missing tooth again.)

𖤓

You leave Dawn Island when you're 17 on a small boat sturdy enough to get you and Ace by until you get your actual ship. You're pirate savings are long gone. "What pirates having savings anyway," you said when you remembered the silly notion you had as children. "We were so dumb for that!"

That's right, we were kids.

Kids who, for the longest time, could only talk hypotheticals about your ship and your adventures. That precious promise of the forever beyond journey's end. Now you're finally on the sea, you inhale in shaky belief at the long stretch of blue surrounding the two of you. We're finally doing this.

You run your hand over the water's surface, admiring how it feels silky to the touch. The distant cries of seagulls in your ear and the briny smell of the sea breeze in the air. You sure that you're going to blink and suddenly you be back in the boys' room, groggily staring at the ceiling in puddle of your own sweat as Ace and Luffy hold you tightly. Their snores sound vaguely enough like seagulls that they could be tricking you into thinking you're sailing right now.

It's spring, you breathe.

"Where to now, first mate?" Ace's voice pulls you from thoughts and you see him smiling. Frowns are no longer commonplace on his face anymore. It suits him as much as the sun shining down on him does. A sun child, that's what you are.

"Wherever the wind takes us, captain," you salute before breaking into a laugh. You aren't sure what to do with all the giddiness swelling in your person.

Ace matches your energy tit for tat, tugging the sail in the direction the wind. "Then off we go to uncharted waters!" You whoop excitedly, water droplets following your hands as you raise your arms.

You initially think it rotten luck you shipwreck on Sixis a few weeks into your journey, following legends of bountiful treasures. After acquiring Deuce and Ace eating the Flame-Flame Fruit to boot, you're more inclined to say fate works in mysterious ways.

Deuce is nice; you like Deuce.

The start to your friendship may have been rocky with his comments about Roger's son ー as well as you subsequently throwing your shoe at the back of his head ー but things ultimately had been smoothed over. It's hard to tell there'd been any foul feelings before, at least on Deuce's part. Not with how Ace throws his arm around Deuce's shoulders as he cheerily recounts a story about Luffy for the millionth time.

It's sweet.

It makes your stomach churn uncomfortably.

You groan, palming your forehead. I'm jealous. This is so stupid. It isn't even like we're not best friends anymore. You know that is fact. It's the 'whys' behind your jealousy that you don't understand.

The Spade Pirates have grown considerably since it was just you and Ace in a rickety boat. There's Deuce, Cornelia, Pinnacle, there's even a lynx in your crew. All of whom who joined this crew because they liked Ace. Most of them liked him almost immediately; it's darling in how effortlessly he does it. There is no effort, you realize not for the first time.

Even when you were 10 and Ace found more reasons to try and keep you at arm's length, you liked him. You always wanted to be his friend; it's something you and Luffy have always had in common. Your old friends in Windmill Village were unable to see your vision, however.

In hindsight, it's objectively not hard to see why.

Ace had been an angry, belligerent child with a harsh mouth. The Ace on the deck before you is practically a different entity entirely. Polite, gentle and extroverted. It's hard believing how easy making friends comes to him now when before the only friends he was able to gain were you, Luffy and Sabo. Which it is why it's so great Ace has so many now, truly. Truly.

This is what you wanted, isn't it? You've always wanted this ever since you were able to further understand Ace's complexities.

You are happy. As such, you're unable to grasp why you feel so gross. No, you sigh. That's a lie. I do know why. You're not Ace's only confidant anymore. He'll still go to you when he needs you, of course. It's just that you're no longer the immediate choice. It's simply a period of adjustment. You hold back a huff but Wallace, your friend in the crow's nest, is quick to notice your mood.

"Everything alright over there, partner." It's not truly a question; you can tell by the lack of rising intonation. It's a prod.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you tell the fishman offhandedly. "Just thinking."

"Oh no," Wallace grins wickedly, dark eyes dancing mirthfully. Even if he worries, Wallace seldom pushes if you really don't want to talk about it. It's his best trait after his humor. "Sounds like we're in trouble."

"Oh shut up," you hiss playfully, giving him a light shove. "See if I haggle for you again the next time we go to a market." Despite your sharp words, you're both laughing. From the corner of your eye, you see a flash of black turn around into tan and freckled flesh. You ignore wishful(?) thinking in favor of reality. You're not Ace's number 1 confidant anymore and that's alright. It's an awkward feeling having to share the role with someone else after so many years in that best friend role.

It'll pass; it'll pass.

𖤓

You realize you've been in love with Ace for the better part of your life one year later after the Spadille washes up on the shores of Amigasa Village. The entire affair is an ugly thing. Tears at the weight of your emotions; tears from realizing how much weight you were carrying in your heart to begin with.

What's worse is there's no grandeur in what causes your awakening.

It came to you slowly then all at once watching your oldest friend, snoring into a bowl of tororo soba. His face was a mess, flecks of tororo smeared on his face while the locals panicked assuming he had died mid-meal.

I love you, you chuckled silently, chin propped on your palm.

Then you blinked and everything else hit you like a surge of conqueror's haki.

"How could I be so blind and stupid," you screamed into your hands, Wallace patting your back all the while. Even being around Ace was a struggle. I told him I needed to go and forage mushrooms when he asked if I wanted to learn how to weave kasas with him. Mushrooms that even locals barely were able to find themselves. It wasn't your smartest attempt to process your emotions alone and far away from the cantankerous heartbeats Ace caused. "Was it obvious? Tell me it wasn't obvious!"

"I mean," Wallace's strained, sharp-toothed smile offered zero comfort. "It isn't to Ace?"

"Kill me."

"Hey, the hard part's over now," the weedy stingfish fishman shrugged. "It isn't like it isn't reciprocated."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumbled.

"You know Ace is in love with you, right?"

"Wallace."

"He is, though! Not that he's noticed but- come on, now," Wallace's tone was pressing, as if he was stating a long known truth. "You have to have noticed you're special to him, right?"

'Because I'm his oldest friend,' you wanted to say. Somehow you knew it wasn't an answer Wallace would accept.

It was a trying five days of woes and sorrows; scouring your memories.

(You can pinpoint the exact day you fell in love with Portgas D. Ace.

A day only a few months after Sabo's death and Luffy's inability to even begin the process of healing from it. When he begged Ace on that windswept cliff not to die to which Ace vehemently declared that he wouldn't.

In that moment, Ace was sparkling.)

By day five, you've gone through most of the five stages of grief. In all honesty it felt like you'd gone through ten, you truthfully believe as you recuperate by the shore.

There's not another place in the world as healing as the sea at sunset. In a world of power holders and haki, it's almost an impossible magic to perceive. How the sky becomes shades of indigo and vermilion and the sea becomes wine-dark. You close your eyes, breathing deeply as you lean your head back as if in meditation.

It's hard to tell what you notice first ー the crushed sand or the rise in heat behind you. You whip your head over your shoulder, a motion practically second nature.

"What are you sneaking around for," you smile lightly as Ace winces, brow furrowed, like he's been caught doing something wrong. His fidgeting is almost secondary to how he looks in the light of the setting sun.. It's a good look on Portgas D. Ace even before he adopted his gentle demeanor. For a second, you feel like Orpheus when he sees the light and turns, forgetting he wasn't supposed to gaze at his beloved until after they'd left Hades' domain. How Eurydice looked in his memory when bathed in its light. I get it, your eyes feel hot looking at the boy turned man behind you. I get why you looked.

"Mind if I join you," comes a hesitant reply, Ace.

"Since when do you ever have to ask to do that?" Nonplussed, you tap your fingers against the sand. He waits, as if gathering his bearings, before gingerly taking a seat to your left. Your heart flutters as your knees brush against each other and you wonder if this reaction has always been present. If you've merely been blind to it. "Your shadow isn't with you."

"Tama?" You raise your eyebrows with a questioning smirk as if to say 'who else would I be talking about?' A light chuckle falls from Ace's lips. The young girl had been attached to Ace's hip ever since you washed up on the shore. "Yeah, she's a sweet kid. But Kotatsu stole her away from me. Cats always win over over people at the end of the day."

"Tragic," your chuckle as you picture the yellow lynx allowing the girl to sleep atop him as he purrs and purrs. The thought inspires memories of Luffy, clinging to your person even as you try rolling out of the sleeping boy's grip. "Tama's lucky. It took me and Luffy three months before you could start tolerating us. It took her basically nothing."

"Aaah," Ace makes a sheepish sound at the reminder. If it were up to him, he'd be more than happy to pretend that weren't the case. In fact, that part of your knowing each other always fails to be brought up in Ace's many, many stories about Luffy and your childhood. "That… is something I don't rightly remember," he coughs out at last. "Maybe you're remembering wrong."

"Oh am I now," you snort, equal parts incredulous and entertained.

Ace nods, black tresses dancing with the movement. "Pretty sure. We've always gotten along."

"Luffy told me you punted him off a bridge his first day at Dadan's."

"I-"

"There was also that time you basically threw boulders at us for following you."

"That-that was-"

"And I'm pretty sure-"

"Okay, okay, I was a brat!" Ace throws his arms in the air, you guffawing all the while. "Stop reminding me!"

"What's funnier was your first etiquette lesson with Makino! I half expected you to call Red-Haired Shanks a bastard when we met him last month!"

Ace groans your name in embarrassment, face in his hands and the tips of his ears blazing red. Resting your arms on your knees, you lean forward against your chest in. Sitting there on the beach, ocean singing in the background, you could almost delude yourself into thinking you're the only people in the world. There is no Amigasa Village, no World Government and no concepts like Emperors and government-sanctioned pirates.

It's simply you and Ace.

What was I panicking about so much before? Watching Ace settle into himself, stardust dotting his skin and wavy hair moving in the breeze only cements the feeling. I love you; so much.

Enough that you'd traverse the realms beyond to bring him home.

Enough that you'd damn yourself right when victory is on the horizon.

And that's okay.

"What are you thinking about," brown eyes glance in your direction, lips twisted into a suspicious pout.

"Nothin'," you reply petulantly. I'll tell you one day, you vow silently. Once I get used to it. I've spent the better part of my life being in love with you without knowing. I wanna enjoy it now that I do. Treasure it like you're holding something precious because you are. "What are you thinking about?"

His eyes dart away following your question, Ace opening and closing his mouth a beat after. You shuffle your feet, shifting back and forth between the tips of your toes and your heels. Remembering your odd behavior the past few days, you don't doubt it is at the forefront of his mind. "... are you mad at me?"

You make a sound of bewilderment, leaning back and brow furrowed. "No? Where did that even come from?

"Sorry that isn't-," Ace stumbles over his next words. "It wasn't what I meant to- I just meant I knew something is bothering you but I didn't know how to bring it up but I know you talked to Wallace and I didn't want to come off as nosy or... I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Ace breathes, the deluge of words slowing down. "I'm always here to talk. But if you don't that's okay too. I just don't... It felt like… maybe you were avoiding me or something." He is mumbling by the time he finishes, abashed, after thoroughly exposing all of his cards.

Oh, I definitely was doing that. It will be a a cold day in hell before you admit that, however. Ace would only feel worse.

"I know how it must've looked but I promise that was just me making a bigger deal out of something than it actually was." Wallace will certainly agree with that sentiment. You can only imagine how he must have felt watching you be so obviously smitten. "But it wasn't you! It was just me! I didn't want to worry you and I was getting in my head and well, Wallace just kinda happened to be right there and well... it kinda just got word vomited onto him. Otherwise, I would have kept stuff to myself."

Ace rasps the back of his hand against your arm, "you're sure you're okay?"

You know Ace is in love with you, right?

"Yeah," you press yourself into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm good. I just had to freak out about it, I think. Everything's perfect." Nice isn't enough to describe how it feels, being enveloped in the warmth that flows from his body. I could die like this, you remember a poem Leif recited a long time ago. Softly; peacefully. In the middle of a dream.

𖤓

"Gimme my props."

The only response you have to your sing-song demand is a playful groan.

You nudge into Ace's arm with your whole body, "come on, flame boy! My props!"

The night is young on the seas, the Moby Dick alight with drink and song. Pirates never miss a reason to party, Ace becoming the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates is no different. He deserves the position more than anybody, in your extremely biased opinion. He's more than earned it and you're happy to see him accept it, even if it was with an uneven stride.

"Ace, we're on the ship of the world's most tolerant pirate," you told him the night before when the two of you sat alone in one of the crows nests. "If you trying to kill him a hundred times didn't get you kicked out, I don't think Roger being the cherry on top is going to do anything either."

"You don't know that," he replied quietly, shoulders to his ears. It was like you were children again and he was so sure you'd take back your promise. As if him being Roger's son would be a dealbreaker. Ace could have been the son of the devil himself and you'd still have kept your promise.

"I don't," you agreed promptly. Still, you knew Whitebeard's character. He was the father to an entire fleet of vagabonds and rejects; what was one more with a large secret?

"And what if you're wrong?"

"Well, first as your friend I would tell you that you really picked the wrong tattoo," you grinned at his snort, watching as he failed to keep his lips from curving upwards. You raise your right hand, showing off your own, smaller Whitebeard jolly roger on your inner forearm. "Alright, alright, I'll say we both picked the wrong tattoo. And that we really fucked ourselves over burning down the Spadille." The ship was long gone now, only existing in your memories. "So assuming we have to battle our way dramatically off the Mobyー we'll jump on the Striker, head to the closest island to get some cover ups and we'll start over," you wink and Ace's eyes softened, looking as if he was staring through you. "But I doubt things will go that route and I look forward to you telling me I was right."

"Okay," Ace drapes himself over you, pulling your back into his chest. You squeal as rough fingers tickle your sides. "You were right so be humble about it!" Perfect. Ace is absolutely perfect.

"Stop it already! I'll be humble!" It doesn't take much time for the tickles to stop with your ceding, Ace's arms lying lazily across your stomach. In the far distance ー as distant as distant can be on a ship so ginormous ー Binks' Sake is being sung on loop with Jozu and Haruta particularly off-key. There's something comforting in how terrible they sound, you giggle softly. "Hey," you press your back further into his chest. "I love you."

"Yeah, I love you too," Ace snickers, lips curled into a lazy half-smile. There's no deep pondering at all behind those eyes. No inclination to look deeper into your words.

Not quite, you brace yourself with a quick in-breath. "No; Ace," while not enough to pull yourself out of his hold, you lean forward enough to look over your shoulder with ease. "I love you."

There's a pause.

Panic then flashes across his face, nothing but a grunt of shock escaping his ajar mouth. You stumble at how quickly Ace is to separate from you, attempting to make his exit to Oden knows where before you grab one of his hands.

"Ace," you squeeze his hand delicately as he stands completely still, face buried in the hand he has left. "Ace," you call again and Ace looks back at you ー truly looks back at you, brow furrowed and eyes wet with conflict. "I'm in love with you. You and no one else. You, Portgas D. Ace, and you can't run away from that. And," your throat clenches. "I want you to admit that you're in love with me too."

"You shouldn't-"

"Do you love me?"

A choked sound escapes him, "you can't-"

"I can and I do," you interrupt him belligerently, both your hands wrapped his tightly. Like he's begging you to end this torment for something he can't have; that you shouldn't want. That maybe he never wanted to know he wanted in the first place. "I'm in love with you. You don't have to love me back just don't," the breath you release is shaky. "Don't run away from it. Don't run away from how you feel about me."

You know Ace is in love with, right?

"You're in love with me," you ask with a falsetto pitch, face warm and throat tight. It takes more strength than you're prepared to admit to tug Ace into facing you directly. It takes more strength than you're prepared to admit to hold his gaze. "Aren't you?"

"I," he starts, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. It's a steadying process of half-formed words, stumbles and shaking shoulders. A steadying process of deep breaths. "Of course I love you," he chokes at last. "I've always… always," it's enough for you, those words. More than enough; you can tell from how Ace's figure suddenly becomes unclear. Whatever else he wants to tell you can wait for later when he's able to say them.

Finally, something you in whispers. Finally.

"Can we kiss?" The two of you can't help laughing at your own words. It's a clumsy affection, unsure what to do with itself. You look forward to figuring it out together. We have forever, after all. It's what you promised one, long winter ago.

"Yeah," Ace nods with a sniff. You wonder if he's remembering the same winter. His smile tells you he is. "We can kiss," the first of many, chaste with the underlying taste of salt. Warm and yours; your personal spring in the sea.

𖤓

For the second time in your life, you're seeing hell on earth.

You're battered, bruised and the ground is littered with more corpses than you can count; pirate and marine alike. Your blood roars through your ears, your breath just as loud. Breath after breath, stride after stride.

The scent of death, fire and everything in between is cloyingly thick but it doesn't matter.

None of it matters.

Ace is safe; alive.

The Moby is gone and Pops will soon be another memory along with it you acknowledge sorrowfully as you leave the strongest man in the world behind.

You'll grieve later, you decide. When you're far from Marineford, far from Garp who'll never choose his grandsons no matter the cost and far from the people who nearly took your beloved from you.

We're almost there, you pant. We're almost there, the edge of marine headquarters so close you can almost taste the sea salt.

It's surprisingly easy to pick out the sound of Ace's shoes and Luffy's sandals drumming against the pavement.

Your boys are fine, your boys are well, your boys are alive.

You'll cry all you want after you make it back to the ship.

"Well your captain is that guy so you can't help it, can you," Akainu's voice is velvet smooth. Too calm in the chaos but still so loud. "Whitebeard is just a loser from the old times, isn't he?"

Ace's footsteps come to an abrupt halt, "loser?" Why is he stopping?

"Ace," Luffy cries out, just as confused.

It's strange how Orpheus comes to mind as you nearly fall over in your attempt to stop running. Your lungs burn white-hot from exhaustion, only seeing the purple and white of Ace's tattoo. Your body stopping doesn't feel like your own, like an out of body experience.

This whole war feels like you're one of the thousands of civilians watching the broadcast from all parts of the world. All watching with bated breath to see who will claim victory; watching to see how the season will change.

You feel like your that little girl again, confined to Dadan's work on your hair as Leif tells you the most beautiful story you've ever heard.

It's new life of spring when it was all Luffy could do to cry out joyfully Ace's name, the flames of his now unextinguished powers on fully display. The chill of late winter still clings to the season with how Whitebeard has to be left behind. The stillness of spring that one seldom notices.

Orpheus’ delight in seeing the sun.

Eurydice's stumble.

Her silence.

Maybe he thinks he’s been tricked.

Regardless the variety of the tale, it all ends the same Leif told you gravely.

He looked back.

ima just die

die with a smile

daeho x reader

warnings — angst, pure drabble, death, typical squid game shit, crying, gunshots, mentions of blood, inspired by bruno mars and lady g’s song “die with a smile.”

you and daeho had known each other before you joined the games. you both always had a thing for each other, neither wanting to confess. you always feared that if you got together, what if he died in the marines? and he always worried that what if you’d say no? but both of you being in terrible debt, neither one fessing up to the other, joining the games and seeing each other across the room, it felt like the world just stopped for you two.

after the first game and realizing this was a life or death type of thing, you found him once it was over and gave him the tightest hug you could give. he squeezed you back as you cried into his shoulder.

“why would you come? why wouldn’t you tell me? how stupid could you be dae?”

he wipes your tears with his thumb as they keep flowing and he laughs softly.

“you’re here too, remember? no need to yell at me about it. why wouldn’t you tell me?”

you just stay silent and place your face in his chest as he rubs his hand through your hair.

“we’ll stick together. i won’t let anything happen to you, i promise.”

you press your face away from his chest and look up at him.

“really?”

he smiles at you. that signature smile that could light up the whole room.

“wherever you go that’s where I’ll follow”

the second game, you guys were on the same team. you guys made it but seeing all those people die around you, all the blood on the floor that you almost slipped on while racing to the finish line for your life had opened your eyes completely. you couldn’t stay here. voting came around and you pressed the big red ‘X’. you watched as dae-ho’s turn came around and prayed he’d make the smart choice. he hits the red ‘X’ and switches out the blue ‘O’ on his chest before walking over to you and smiling, hooking his arm underneath yours as you lean your head against his shoulder.

after the night comes around he gets up and nudges your shoulder, trying to wake you up. you start to move and finally get up and rub your eyes, immediately smiling once you see it’s him. you pat a spot on your bed, giving him a sign to sit with you. he hops up and you lean your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around yours.

“dae, do you think we’ll get out of here?”

he goes to speak but you cut him off.

“alive.”

he thinks for a little and it’s silent but then he squeezes your shoulder before speaking.

“i think we’ll get out of here together.”

you take a deep breath and almost hold it there. all the tension in your body threatening to spill. he looks at you concerned before a shaky breath spills out of your mouth.

“dae, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

the tears well up in your eyes before you can even speak but you stop yourself from talking more and hold your breath once again to keep them in. he pulls you into his chest and wraps his hand around your head and keeps your face in the crook of his neck as he feels the spot get wetter and wetter. he takes a deep breath now before speaking.

“i love you.”

you still and move away, looking at him with your teary eyes in shock.

“what..?”

“i love you.”

he holds his breath. scared of what you may say. hoping he read all the signs correctly and that it was the right time to admit it.

“dae, we can’t.”

he chokes on his own breath, upset about what you may be insinuating.

“why? im sorry.”

you put your hand on his cheek and squeeze his hand with your other hand.

“don’t be sorry. i love you too. but we can’t. if you were to die here, i don’t know what i’d do. if i was left here without you, i—”

he presses you into a tight kiss, bring his free hand up to your cheek while you’re still holding his other and pulls away.

“that’s only going to make me love you even harder. knowing that you feel so deeply about me. i feel the same. but i told you,”

he cups your face with both hands now.

“wherever you go that’s where i’ll follow. as long as you’re here i’m not going anywhere.”

you stare, almost looking through his eyes now and you speak, taking a breath.

“nobody’s promised tomorrow.”

he smiles at you before leaning his forehead into yours and looking into your eyes.

“but as long as you’re here i am.”

—

the third game comes around and was finally announced. it was definitely intense and quite nerve wrecking but daeho makes sure to give you a smile of reassurance.

he squeezes your hand tight as the platform spins around. the speaker called for five people in a room. you run together but you end up getting separated. he’s in a room, the perfect amount of people, but he notices you out there instead of in with him. somebody else was right next to the door he was in, so he opens it and lets them in, allowing them to lock it behind him. gi-hun screams for him, but he just runs to you. he locks you in a hug and you guys pull away and just look each other in the eyes.

“dae-ho, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

he cups your face in his hands.

“we don’t have to anymore, my love, i love you so much.”

you place your heads in each others necks, hugging as tight as possible, just like before when you first arrived, and then you both tense against each other. gunshots ringing through the air, into your ears, and through your bodies. you both fall to the ground, still in each others arms. with the few breaths he has left, he cups your face in his hand one last time, sending a smile your way. tears filling your eyes before they finally shut, you smile back to him. and even when you both pass, that smile never fully fades.

I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH AGHH I WAS ALREADY CRYING BEFORE I READ IT TS DIDNT HELP

OUR CAFE IN JEJU

You and Dae ho plan to open a cafe in jeju after you both leave the games

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Kang Dae ho x gn!reader

It's night time, or atleast you guess it was as you sit awake, your eyes slowly drifting to all the people who slept blissfully, as if though they all didn't just witness multiple killings

The sight almost disgusted you,

Almost

Gi hun, or no. 456, the man who oddly reminded you of your father, decided that everyone should take turns watching over your group as you all slept

Currently, it was your turn,

you find yourself leaning against the cold steel railing of the bed, your feet swinging softly going along with your steady breath

You don't mind the silence, it was a good break from the constant chaos, you didnt mean only in the games but also from real life

You always did prefer the silence anyways

"Oh y/n" followed by a stretched yawn, you watch as Dae ho sleepily crawled out from underneath the bed

"It's my turn now to watch over" he says despite his eyes still being closed shut and his speech languoress "you should get some rest"

A soft smile etched your face unconsciously upon seeing his drowsy state

You swear, you almost found the very sight cute

You shake your head softly "It's alright, i don't mind staying awake. I doubt I'd get any sleep anyway. You should rest"

Dae ho's eyebrows knitted upon hearing your words, immediately waking him up from his drowsiness

"Then I guess we'll both be staying awake" he props himself next to you, his signature grin on his face

This time your the one frowning, sighing as you insist the brawny man "Dae ho, seriously it's fine, you look sleepily anyway"

But this just seemed to make him even more stubborn as he shook his head, pieces of his long hair moving along with his head causing you to laugh softly, your hand covering your mouth

Dae ho lazily smiles back at you before the both of you nestle in the silence that surrounded the entire room

"You were amazing in today's game, i feel like i haven't mentioned it enough" you nudge his shoulder as you say, choosing to be the one ro break the silence

You half expect him to tell you that it's because hes a marine and marines can do everything but instead you find him with an uncharacteristic shy smile on his face

"I just played the game alot with my older sisters" he admitted in a rather bashfull manner

You nodd your head "you guys must be really close then?"

Dae ho nodds back without much comment, you take it as a sign that he might not like talking about them much

"Sorry" he awkwardly laughs "i know I'm usually not like this"

You raise your eyebrow

"I mean" he pauses before rubbing the back of his neck, you quickly note the way his t shirt sleeve pushed back, showing his arm muscle "im usually talkative and all. I usually don't like the silence but i guess i dont mind it when I'm with you"

You bite back the warmth that attempts to streak your face as you let out a soft hum

"I know you don't like talking alot" Dae ho says as he quickly takes a peek at your face "I've noticed that you keep to yourself most of the time"

He awkwardly chuckles, looking down "maybe you don't enjoy talking that much-"

"No-" your voice interrupts him, startling both you and him with your sudden interjection

Immediately his posture straightens as he whips his head towards you, his eyes locking into yours, almost desperate to hear what you have to say

"I don't mind" the words unwittingly tumble out your mouth before you could stop yourself

You notice Dae Ho's intense gaze which noted was unusualof him, his eyes fixated on you as he hangs on to your every word

Your clear your throat "I don't mind it too" you whisper softly "talking I mean"

Dae ho blinks, once, twice, before he shakes his head lightly as if though he was in a trance

"Right. Talking" he repeats your words while still rapidly blinking

You internally curse yourself, why do you always have to say things the wrong way?

"Yea..." your voice trails off and once again the both of you were surrounded by odd tranquility

You take a glance at Dae ho, his eyes up at the piggy bank of money that hanged on the ceiling. Your eyes follow his as you stare along at the stacks of paper

"What are you gonna do after all of this is over?" You whispered out of the silence to him

Dae ho realized you saw him staring at the money, before briefly looking back at you and then the money

"Pay off all my debts I guess" he said with a tight lipped smile

"No I mean" you tilt your head towards him "after that. I'm pretty sure your gonna have some money left"

Dae ho leaned behind as he wondered outloud "uhm"

He clicks tongue when he gets his answer "that's right! I've always wanted to open a cafe"

"A cafe?" You ask puzzled, that wasn't something you'd expect from a ex marine, that too someone like Dae ho

"that's right! In jeju" his eyes sparkled as he grinned ear to ear, speaking excitedly

"oh" He turns to you "and what about you? After paying your debts. What do you want to do?"

You think thoughtfully before you contemplate your answer

"I guess i wanna start my life over, maybe somewhere in an island"

Dae ho grins brightly when he hears your words "Hey! You should come with me then"

"What?" You ask slightly taken back at his sudden invite, you didnt think he considered you to be close enough for him to invite you to join him after all this was over

"Yea it's the perfect plan !!, you wanna start your life over in an island and i want a cafe in Jeju. Well isn't jeju a island? And the best one too!!"

You almost want to laugh at his childish demeanour but you don't, instead your grin matches his as you watch him continue

"Think about it, i'll open a cafe in jeju and you can help me run it"

"Can we adopt a pet dog?" You meekly ask

Dae ho's eyes widened as if though the very fact that you had to ask him made him feel offended "ah ofcourse!" His voice boisterous which caused you to shush him

"Sorry!" He whispers while turning over to look at the people sleeping, checking if anyone awoke.

You lean in towards him as he whispers "I mean- ofcourse. We can adopt as many dogs as you want"

"I guess I'll have to start picking names from now" you quip which made him beam

"Alright! It's settled then" he points at you "you, me, and our adopted dogs will open a cafe in jeju together. You can manage the cafe and I'll make coffee for our customers"

You watch as he smiles and talk animatically, suddenly feeling downcast, you can't help it when a feeling of dejection befalls your face.

You hope that Dae Ho doesn't notice but the look on his face says otherwise as he softens his voice "Hey, are you okay? Did I go to far?"

"No, you didnt" you say with a wistful smile "It's just, we don't know what's gonna happen next. I dont know whether I'll survive the next game or not"

You hear Dae Ho take in a deep breath before releasing a deep sigh "I guess you have a point there too"

"Sorry" you feel the urge to apologise "I ruined the mood-"

But Dae Ho intervenes your apology, he won't have you saying sorry, not to him

"I guess that just gives you more reason to stick around me huh?" He says playfully, he nudges your shoulder with his signature grin on his face "i'll make sure we get out of here together no matter what"

You snort, an attempt to hide your amusement but he catches on. He always did when it came to you

"Hey seriously!" he puts his hand in his chest when he begins reciting in a loud voice "I, Kang Dae Ho promise to take y/n l/n to jeju and open a cafe together"

You cover his mouth with your hand amidst your quiet giggles "people are sleeping silly" you scold him, despite your light tone and the smile on your face

Dae ho shuts up, but the twinkle in his eyes says otherwise

"Y/n" he whispers as he sticks out his pinky finger towards you "Promise me too"

"Promise you?"

"Promise me that when we get out of here, we'll both restart out lives in jeju"

You interlock your pinky with his, he noticed the spark in your eye

"And you'll open a cafe in jeju" you continue

Dae Ho's face lit up even more than before "and we'll adopt three dogs- no five dogs!"

He corrects himself while you stifle in your laughter

"I promise to help you run it" your voice soft and warm as both of your pinkies layed interlocked with one another

"Promise"

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

The child's voice plays over the speaker as it sings the same song over again and again,

you've lost count for how many rounds this game has been going on, feeling dizzy on the spinning carousel as you feel Dae ho's tight grip on your wrist.

"Just one more time y/n" he insist to you over the blaring sound of the childish song "just one more time and this game would be over"

You nodd, unable to say anything as you sweat profusely, your heart beating rapidly

Dae ho takes in your silence as your answer as he gives you a quick nodd, turning over to look at gi hun and song il, letting go of your hand for a moment

Suddenly the carousel stops to a halt, you find yourself falling down harshly before you could even realise that it stopped

A feminine voice declares a number but your unable to coin what it was as your layed on the ground, only being able to hear the sound of people running and screaming

Dae ho looks around frantically, eyes widened when he realised your not next to him

"Y/n?" He mutters at first before he began shouting your name like a mad man

You scream his name too, but with no avail, as a hysterical crowd of people separated the both of you

Dae ho's eyes widen as his brows lift, he breaks away from jeong bae's grasp as he runs away from his team, searching for you in amidst the chaos

He doesn't realise the way his trembles or the way he stutters when he shouts your name, all he wants right now was you to be back at his side

He should have never let go of your hand

He runs around the room as he belts out your name as loud as he can, pushing people away, shouting at them while he asked whether they saw you or not

Suddenly he finds himself being pulled back by Young ill and Jeong Bae

"Wait! Wait! stop!" He screamed against their hold, thrashing and moving "y/n! They're still out there!" He hysterically screamed

Young ill gripped the younger man tightly as Jeong Bae pushed him into a room

"Time is running out, the count down has begun" jeong Bae attempts to appease to his junior who refuses to listen "im sure they'll be safe with others"

But there was an unexplainable feeling in the pits of Dae ho's stomach that says other wise. Every single cell in his body screamed at him, telling him that you weren't safe

He promised to be always by your side didn't he?

"Hyung please" he mumbled his words rapidly while clutching the arms of the two other men who held him back "hyung please! Let me go! let me go i need to find-"

Jeong Bae and Young ill push him into a room despite his refusal to enter, opposing his wishes

"Stop! Stop don't close the door" Dae ho pushes Young ill away from the door as he prys to keep it open "they're still out there-" he splutters

Young ill grabs Dae ho by the neck, putting him in a headlock while dragging him away from the door, urging jeong Bae to shut it

"The room is full" he mutters under his breath into Dae hos ear "do want all of us to die?'

"No! You dont understand" Dae ho splutters against the older man's hold, not paying attention to his words at all

"no let me go, i need y/n, i told them" Dae ho begs, his face getting red "I told them I'll protect them"

His breathing becomes more shallow and rapid when he hears the lock of the door, finally prying away from young ills grasp

He shakes his head as he tries opening the door which simply stood unmoving against his force

"No no no" he repeatedly muttered "no y/n" his sweaty palms trying to pull open the steel door while all the other two men in the room could do was look bleakly at him

"Dae ho... I'm sure they'll be safe wit-" jeong Bae words are cut short by a familiar defeaning shriek which causes Dae ho's face to pale

"Dae ho!" You scream his name as you pass by all the closed rooms, searching for him

Dae ho shouts your name back through the small hole in the door, exerting more force on trying to open the door

You press yourself to the door of the room Dae ho was in, only seeing his widened eyes

"Y/n! Y/n!" He shouted repeatedly while banging the door "Fuck the door isn't opening! Why won't the door open" he wailed while hitting the door

You whisper his name in between hiccups, your eyes filled with water as you watched him pry to open the door

"Please y/n" Dae ho sobbs "please" his breath shallow

You shake your head against the cold door "im sorry"

"Y/n?" Dae ho watches you horrified

"I'm so sorry Dae ho" you breathed out "I don't think I can come to jeju with you"

A loud bang, followed by even more shouting and screaming and more shooting could be heard

Dae ho watched as your eyes once which looked at him with joy was now lifeless and empty, he hears your body thud on the floor, he falls down along with you, body pressing to the door

Now, only the steel door being in the path of both of your bodies from being once again reunited

"Dae ho" you whisper from the other side of the door while he hears you take your last breath

"I would have loved opening a cafe with you in jeju"

this wasn't very fun why do i like angst so much😓

Until death due us part

You and Daisuke know you are not going to get out of the ship.

It was a scary prospect, but at least you have each other to console yourselves.

So what else could you do?

Get Married.

The five of you, Daisuke, you, Swansea, Anya and Curly, even if the latter couldn't move anymore. You didn't invite Jimmy, you told Daisuke that he probably was too stressed to understand this.

Anya was the wedding officiant... And the maid of honor.

This didn't have to be a very professional thing.

Swansea was the best man. He was fumbling all the time, saying that your kids were so stupid and all of that. But both of you knew he was feeling otherwise.

Curly was the witness, witnessing.

Daisuke cried when he saw you. Even though you were using your uniform and maybe one or two accessories, maybe even a sheet that was white enough to simulate a veil if you are into that.

You teared up when he said his vows; he loved you, you gave him a new purpose in life. He decided, here and there, that if he was going to be something in life, he would choose to be your husband.

You promised each other that if you got out of this, you would get married for real, you would grow old together and love each other until death do you part.

...

Only the last part became true.

THIS WAS JUST WOAH

.•° ✿Flowers in the Sand✿ °•.

Word count: 2.4k

FLUFF TO ANGST, dark content? slight nsfw (literally like, 1 sentence)

yuuta okkotsu x gender neutral reader, no gendered pronouns used, mage!yuuta x dying!reader

cw; heavy unhealthy thoughts, delusional thinking, details about being ill

tw; character death, depictions of a dead body

People who are gifted with magic are highly appreciated in society, for they can help out not only villages, no, cities in struggle, but whole countries, entire nations if they so wish. However, they’re incredibly rare to appear.

Throughout the whole world, there will barely be even 30 people with those gifts. Being able to have inhumane abilities, unable to get sick, increased strength and agility, with each one given a unique gift, they truly were amazing souls. 

That's why you were so surprised when you met Yuuta, and even became friends with him. Why would a person like him talk to a person like you? You don’t stand out well, you’re a pretty average person, in both skills and appearance. You live in a shabby house in a tiny village, with a job as a farmer. Meanwhile Yuuta is probably the most stunning person you’ve ever met, and his magic always blows you away. 

He loves to show you little tricks and see your reaction. Summoning water to float around you, or manipulating the wind to teasingly twirl leaves around you. Your face always brightens in awe, no matter how big or small it is. He’s always nervous to show you in case you don’t find it impressive, but when your eyes shine, and you say how amazing and great he is, he can’t help but flush as his chest feels all fuzzy and his stomach flutters.

He enjoys helping you out in your fields too. Sprinkling water on the crops you ask him to, and even just cooling the air around you on hot days.

You two met because Yuuta got injured while helping out nearby towns. His mana was drained after constant use for multiple days, and thus, when he crossed paths with monsters, he wasn’t able to fight properly.

You stumbled upon him right as he narrowly escaped, and when he looked at you after he crashed into your chest, stuttering out apologies, you couldn’t help but take him back to your tiny house to help treat him. 

You saved him, and he can’t help but feel like he owes you his life.

Thus, your relationship bloomed. And even now, 4 years later, he still visits you whenever he can. You both send each other letters when Yuuta has to travel far to help aid other places, and you both can’t help but feel so stupidly happy when your eyes carefully gaze upon the ink placed upon the paper from your new messages.

You cherish your moments with Yuuta, he’s just so pretty, so amazing, so perfect that sometimes you can’t help but wonder if he’s even real at all. What if he is just part of a wonderful dream that you don’t want to wake from?? 

But when he gently caresses your hand with a flustered look, timidly looking you in the eye, you can’t help but not want to leave him. Not that he wants to leave either, he wants to stay by your side forever.

Yuuta adores you, you are the light of his life. His savior. He always struggles with people, especially with that voice constantly in the back of his head telling him to be careful, to not trust them.. But with you, everything seems wonderful, and he never wants to leave.

Whenever he gets summoned to a place far from you, it's like a horrible pain in his chest, a constant pressure. He even gains more praise from people now, ‘he gets it done so quickly, he is so amazing!! Truly gifted!’, ‘So powerful!’. ‘He must be the best alive!!’  but only he knows, it’s only done quicker so he can go to you as soon as possible. 

It’s almost a need for him to be with you. 

You love being with him, hearing his stories, seeing new spells, everything about him is amazing. He loves being with you, experiencing your cooking, your warmth, you. 

The gentle caresses you give each other, the long tender holds from a long separation, the comforting hugs given, the soft kisses given to one another thinking the other is asleep… 

You are each other's joy. Each other's warmth. 

Even after you both confess, the warm cozy nights spent together, affectionate heart-filled promises for the future, giggling under covers as if you were children, the poorly sung songs you both love to sing together, shy kisses given to each other, gentle gazes given throughout all the hours you spend together– it never seems enough, even though the euphoric rush given always seems too much, you’d happily accept more and more. 

The childish joy in the days with the two of you is almost beautifully precious. 

Even when he is a mess underneath you, harsh pants leaving you both as you press against each other as much as physically possible… The messy kisses exchanged, the hushed ‘love you’s spoken throughout those times…

Although Yuuta hates leaving you, you always make him cute little trinkets to take with him. ‘A little piece of me to accompany you’, you’d say. It gets to the point where he has his own bag he carries with him just full of them. He’d never tell you how he kisses them when he’s away though, secretly hoping you can somehow feel them despite the distance.

Just a glance at the bag has him smiling with joy. You are his world. You are his life. His everything. 

He loves it when he returns, walking up the path to the house he calls home. He always sees you waiting by the door, or already outside. You are usually tending to the lavender patch you have outside, or harvesting some of the herbs hanging out front. The moment your name leaves his lips, the way your face lights up when you see him, when you run up to him and scoop him into your arms, he can’t help but smile til his cheeks hurt. Loving laughs leaving both of you.

He ignores the nagging feeling, though. The way those voices drip into his ears, warning him that you will leave him. But he knows you won’t. He won’t let you.

The first time a fever fell on you, Yuuta panicked. He has never been sick himself, and when he sees how tired and weak you look, he’s scared. Why are you sick?? What does he do? You’ll be okay, right? Although he can help out whole countries, he can’t heal people. He can’t heal you. How is he so useless when it comes to this?? It was a struggle the first time, that's for sure. 

However, as time moved forward, he learned how to take care of you, as you did him, when you ever got ill. He owes you his life, after all, and he’d lovingly do whatever you asked. He will take care of you, sharing the joy and appreciation he felt for you since the first time you both met. 

That’s why when another fever fell, he wasn’t as worried as he was the first time. Obviously, he was still concerned, you never got this hot, you never looked this weak– but he knows you will get better. He will help you get better.

You smile so lovingly, so brightly, so gently as he gives you medicine and feeds you. You can’t help the way it spreads on your face as he tells you about what new story he has to share with you. The animated way he talks when he gets into it, only to snap out of it with timid embarrassment, the way he still clumsily caresses your hair, not minding how sticky and damp it feels through the sweat. 

The way he quietly asks how you feel, the way he kisses you softly, almost as if he was worried you would break, the way he gently wipes your lips after you eat, how he worries over you, worrying if you’re sleeping okay, is your stomach sore? Your throat?? Any headache? Chills??  you can’t help but want to kiss him all over. How is he so cute??

He gives you the best medicine he can find, he makes sure the house is at a good temperature all the time, he makes sure you are as comfortable as you can be.

He’s giving you all he can, he owes you that much. He owes you so much

So why.

Why aren’t you getting better?

He doesn’t understand. He did everything he has done before, you got better then, so what’s different now?? Why does nothing seem to work??

The feeling of dread heavily climbs up him as more days go by, but your condition only seems to worsen. Why??

You seem to know something is wrong, too. You were having headaches before your fever, but you shrugged it off. You were doing your best to look better, but from the way Yuuta looked at you as the days moved forward, you know that you aren’t doing a good job. You just feel horrible. You feel like something is wrong, very very wrong.

But you can’t let Yuuta know that. 

You two promised to be together until you both grew old and wrinkly. To travel around the globe, meet new people, see new things. To live in this shabby but comforting home until nature holds it long after you two leave its warmth. To wear matching clothes, have matching trinkets. Try new foods, and enjoy old ones. 

You promised you wouldn’t leave him.

So why does it feel like you’re getting further and further away? You are right here. Right in front of him. He sees you, he sees your weak form, smells you, smelling your scent, lavender with a mix of herbs, he feels you, your worryingly hot skin. He has you right here. So why does he feel that way? 

You’re not leaving him, right? You wouldn’t. He would never let you. He owes you his life. His life, his whole being is yours, so why won’t you get better? He’s doing his best, please know he is doing his best, so don’t go. He doesn’t think he can live anymore without you by his side.

He knows he needs to find a healer right away when you sleep more. The way your breath is so, so heavy as wheezes leave your mouth. You’ve lost so much weight, you are more in a daze than you are not. He hears you when he leaves the room, the way you croak about how sorry you were and how sore everything was.

Oh no no no nononono, "No dear, no, don’t apologize," he loves you dearly, can’t you see? He’d give you the world if you asked. He will do anything for you, so just get better. Okay? He will get you the best healer alive, okay??

You barely understood what he was saying when he told you that he wouldn’t leave your side. Your mind was so groggy. Everything hurt, and you could barely stomach food, drinking was becoming hard too. Everything was spinning, and you couldn’t help but feel both scalding hot and freezing cold simultaneously. You were so tired. Gods, so so tired.

Yuuta can’t help but cry sometimes as he sees you now. He can see you changing. Leaving. A fellow mage he knows is on their way. The letter said they should be there in less than a week. They’re an amazing healer, they’re known for their miracles, so they will help you. They will.

He should be happy, help is on the way! But when he looks at you, he doesn’t know if that will be good enough. They should be here now. He feels like a child throwing a tantrum. 

Tears of frustration and angry sobs leave him. He doesn’t get it. What the hell is going on? Why is this happening?? You’re leaving him. You're so sick, why can’t he help? He is useless and is fucking up every second as you’re still not better. Why can’t you get better? Did he do something wrong and your mad at him? He’s sorry. He’s really really sorry, so please stop this and get better, please? Go back to normal, pretty please?? Please stop.

He lays his head next to you, too anxious that he might make you feel uncomfortable with his body heat if he gets too close. When your gazes meet, a worried look versus a muddled one, he can’t help himself from crying. "Oh, love," he’d take this all away from you if he could. He’s trying, he’s really fucking trying. Please know that he’s trying so hard.

Gripping your hand, tenderly kissing it, he gently sings the songs you two would love to sing. Your weak smile, your awfully quiet hums, they hurt him. Where did your brightness go? Your energy? "Oh, my dear," he will get you better. You have to. 

But you don’t. 

He doesn’t know what happened. You fell asleep, still gently smiling, he even slept next to you tonight. His palm was on your chest, feeling your heart's scarily slow and calm thumps, but it will be okay. Help is almost here.

It should have been okay. 

But, as he awoke, he felt something was wrong. Stiffening, he slowly moves his gaze to his palm. Why can’t he feel anything? Why can’t he feel any thumping?

He suddenly is aware of just how stiff you are, how you seem cooler than before… How you aren’t waking up.

Hey, wake up.

Yuuta sits up quickly, tenderly shaking you at first, “C’mon, dear, wake up.” He says. 

No movement. 

As more minutes pass, his grip tightens. He shakes harder, speaks louder until he is eventually screaming for you to ‘Wake up! Wake up, please!’

Panic is all that runs through him. This is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. 

No, no no nonono this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.

Ah.

You’re just sleeping! That’s right. You’ve looked so exhausted lately, you must be taking a deep rest, that’s all! Of course!

He lets out a chuckle, of course! How could he be so stupid. You used to sleep a lot in the past when you were sick, you will wake up soon. No, no you won’t, you’re dea– 

He lovingly strokes your hair before going to grab some medicine.  

That’s right, you’re all okay. Everything is okay. 

The healer should be here any day now, any day. Soon. So soon, then you will be okay. 

Yuuta can’t help but smile tenderly when he looks at your face, it’s stiff why is it stiff–

Leaning over, he presses a kiss on your forehead. 

Yes. You are okay.

ONGGGG

HIS NEW SELFIE IM LITERALLY GOING TO COMBUST??????? ONE CHANCE PLEASE ITS ALL IM ASKING DINNER WILL BE COOKED BREAKFAST WILL BE SERVED THE HOUSE WILL BE CLEANED YOUR CLOTHES WILL BE IRONED PLSSSS OH MYGODDD

IM INLOVE WITH THIS SERIES SM I CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART OMG

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch7 Date Weekend: Sunday

(Or alternative title- Obligatory anime shopping montage. Just an excuse for Y/n to get to know everyone before the real romance starts. I'm using the chart above as headcannons ages for Sanemi's sibs for a modern au for future reference. Short chapter. 

Warnings for some nudity mentioned but nothing NSFW.

Hearts conquered so far: Mitsuri and Gyomei and secretly Kanae.)

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml @tengensangel

@miniverse-zen

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Bright sunlight shown down from the sky and illuminated the entire world in a nice warm glow. Soon fall would be hear turning the leaves shades of yellows, reds, oranges, and brown. Cold weather would soon follow after with the spookiest day of the year right around the year before eventually snow would fall and bring with it icy sidewalks and the likelihood of being pelted by snowballs. 

So it was a good idea to get out and enjoy the warm weather while you could.

"Dammit! Im fine!" Obanai scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes but didn't stop his girlfriend from pushing his bangs from his face to frown at him.

"But what if you get lost?"

"We're going on a hiking trip to see a waterfall and then we're going to the movies," he deadpanned, "It's not like we're going skydiving."

"I know but what if you run into a wolf? Or a wild bear?! "

His hands were held up bluntly. "We'll be fine. It's not the first time we've been in the woods. You go have fun at the mall."

She still frowned at him but didn't argue- Only reach over to give him a big kiss to his forehead leaving a red lipstick mark he'd wipe off later. Right now they were in front of the local park waiting for everyone else to arrive. Most of them were already there, minus Shinobu who needed to wrap up some last minute emails concerning her part time job at an office and Gyomei who was coming by bus after picking up his .. Girlfriend? Did she count as his girlfriend if they've only been on three dates? He guessed they were still just casually dating right now and testing the waters. Y/n seemed like a nice girl or 'unicorn' as Shinobu put it but he still wasn't too sure what to think..She seemed ok at least to him. Maybe that'll change later but who knows?

The sounds of the park around them continued through the air as kids ran around giggling and squealing their little heads off playing. Swings to be swung, slides to slide, and jungle gyms to climb. Lots of little smiles on little cute faces running around playing or toddling after parents walking around. Or in Sanemi's case allowing his little brothers and sisters to be climb all over him where he stood eating an energy bar in one hand while his other arm was slowly lifted up and down with two little boys and one little girl clinging to him. Three of his little siblings with a fourth standing just standing off to the side. The second oldest other than himself. No doubt babysitting a few of their little siblings today.

Kanae was letting one of their other little sisters mess with her hair and admire how pretty she was. She was rather pretty. However the sounds of a little PING sound took his attention off his friends and towards the pocket on Mitsuri's right side as her hand automatically dug out her phone and looked at the screen. 

"It's Shino! She says she's running late so she's just heading to the mall to meet us there."

"Oh. That's convenient." He didn't think they'd be able to leave on their hiking trip until Mrs. Shinazugawa came back to take over her youngest children. "Anything else from Mei?"

She shook and one of her braids smacked against his cheek. "Nope! But the bus should be here soon! Ooh! This is gonna be so much fun!"

Considering if they'll get here already. They were taking so long and it was already painful enough to have to fork over fifty bucks after loosing that stupid game Tengen decided to make them do. Sigh. Oh well still better than loosing a hundred dollars each. He didn't want to lose that too-

"THEY'RE HERE!"

Well it's about time!

The tall, unmistakable form of Gyomei walked down the road and started making his way towards them walking slower than normal because of the smaller woman walking next to him holding his arm. You smiled at them all and waved an arm at them all as you got close enough to be heard.

"It's about time you all showed up. I was starting to grow a beard from how long it took."

"My apologies." Gyomei smiled despite his apology. "But we're here now. Is everyone else here?"

"Except Shinobu. She's gonna meet the girls at the mall. We still gotta wait for Sanemi's mom to come back before we leave too-" he gestured behind him at the giggling little kids despite Gyomei obviously not being able to see them. "-but she should be back anytime now. The girls can go ahead and leave." 

"Are you sure?" Mitsuri gave him a puppy eyed look. 

"Yeah. We'll be fine. You girls go enjoy your frilly spa day. Well meet up with you after Sanemi drags us to the movies."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

It wasn't him her cupping his face and gifting him a giant smooth to the forehead before excitedly looping an arm around your arm and excitedly began to pull you towards the other girls. In fact you were barely able to shout a goodbye to Gyomei before the unusually strong woman literally dragged you off towards the other girls. They were all there except for Shinobu whom Mitsuri briefed you about meeting you all there, and Kanae who had to wrestle one of Sanemi's baby sisters off her before joining you all there. Mitsuri and Suma both super giddy with excitement.

"This is gonna be great! We're going shopping and then to Salan,Sauna, and Beyond!"

..You blinked. "What's Salon, Sauna, and Beyond?"

As if you had insulted her,her family, her friends, and cat- Suma gasped so loud you jumped as she clutched her turtleneck. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT SALON, SAUNA, AND BEYOND IS?!"

"Um. No? Should I?"

"YES!," She yelled at you waving her arms around, "It's like only the greatest place ever to get your nails done and get pedicures and it has like these REALLY good massages that help melt stress awa- HEY!!"

MAKIO shoved her head aside with a hand with a deadpanned look. "It's a salon and spa with an attaching sauna room and one. It's a pretty popular place to go unwind and relax."

"Oh. I've never been there before."

"YOU'VE NEVER BEEN THERE?!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO REPEAT IT, BLOCKHEAD!!"

"Kanae, tell her to stop being mean to me!"

"Ok. Let's calm down now. C'mon. We don't want to end up missing our bus."

Hinatsuru was lightly surprised you didn't run away or show annoyance at the fighting but remained smiling as Kanae hered the still arguing wives towards the bus station where you first arrived with Gyomei. It also turns out the boys were not going to be going with all of you like they did Friday night and all day Saturday when you weren't around. Instead they planned on having a few hours to just bond with the boys as the girls just bonded with each other which includes a nature hike, movie Sanemi insisted on dragging them too, and then they planned to go somewhere to eat before meeting back up with the girls near the end of the day at the sauna. Sounded like a plan. 

The ride to the mall was pretty generic. On the way there you sat by Mitsuri and talked with her about your pets. Her cats and bunnies and your goldfish you named Goldielocks.  It was a peaceful ride up to the ginormous building that was your city's local mall complete with a lot of stores inside. And conveniently waiting for you all in the parking lot was Shinobu, eating what looked like a granola bar while she was waiting for you all to show up by the entrance. It got a raised brow from Makio.

"Really?"

Shinobu shrugged again looking at you all. "You all were taking too long. I got hungry and ate something."

"Too long? It's eight in the morning still!"

"Let's not fight anyone! I wanna swing by CePora's! They have this new Summer's End eye shadow palette I've been wanting!" 

"I think the yellows and oranges would look good on Makio," you added trying to get the group moving, "Let's go in and see if it's still there!" Your arm gestured towards the large building.

Luckily that seemed to have worked and the group ended up being dragged by Mitsuri all the way to the escalator and up to the second floor where she then proceeded to not stop until she was dashing through the automatic front doors of the famous make up chain of stores. It was ok. You got a cute little compact mirror in the shape of a Tanuki so it all worked out before someone directed your group towards the check out and then a few different stores. This time a few clothes stores.

Honestly you were surprised one mall could have five different clothes stores and no one seemed to care. 

Your attention was mainly upon the plethora of outfits Suma and Mitsuri thrusted into your arms and insisted you try on because-

"You'd look even cuter next to Gyomei if you wore these!"

Nice to know that they cared about their friend at leas and you did end up liking a few of the outfits so that was a plus. Until Hinatsuru pointed out something with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

"Hey. We've been going to all the places we like. It's not fair to Y/n to just drag her everywhere without stopping where she wants to go as our guest. Let's go where she wants." She smiled at you. "Pick wherever you want to go, Y/n."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Where do you want to go?"

"Well, there's a bookstore here that has a new recipe book on deserts from Canada I'd really like to get."

"Consider it done!"

It was a nice trip to said bookstore where Mitsuri bought herself at least three romance novels and you think Shinobu got herself a book of space sciences. It was another small thrift store or two before it had occured to you all that it was noon already and you all were very hungry. Mitsuri's immediately reaction was to suggest going to the resident cat cafe, but knowing her appetite Shinobu suggested that you all go to the other mall restaurant that had an all you can eat buffet instead. Yeah. That was probably the better idea considering that Mitsuri had finished off her twelveth plate by 12:45 and about ready to go back for her thirteenth. You weren't even done with your own plate yet but giggled as she looked at you in question before you held up a napkin to her and smiled sweetly.

"Here. You have some gravy on your cheek from the mashed potatoes."

She blinked at the kind gesture but smiled widely. "Thanks!"

It was a mutual agreement that they approved of your gesture by the many smiles you've gotten from them. "So, Y/n. How's your day so far?"

You beamed brightly. "It's been wonderful! I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun!"

"Don't you go to the mall?"

You shook your head. "Only sometimes if I need to pick up something or if I'm shopping with my family. I don't really have a lot of friends who're free or like to go shopping with me."

"You don't have friends?"

"Well...Not a lot. My one friend is usually working and studying hard for his bachelor's and he's already busy enough with his boyfriend so we don't get to hang out as much as we used to."

"AW! That's so sad! It's ok!" You were suddenly grasped up into the arms of one pink haired girl who squeezed you tight enough to make you wheezed and pop a few of your bones as she hugged you to her. "We'll be your friends now! We can go on trips and I can do your nails and-"

"Mitsi! You're suffocating her there!"

Green eyes blinked before looking down at your pale face before she squealed out and pushed you away with a worried look. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh my gosh! Are you ok?!"

You slowly gasped a lungful of air after getting squeezed like a lemon before nodding. "Y-Yeah. I'm ok." 

If you counted being squeezed like an orange ok. But you weren't going to fault her for it especially since she's been so nice to you so far. After a moment of you all just talking, mostly about what they were doing for classes starting Monday tomorrow or what they all did at the beach together yesterday when the waiter stopped by the large table to collect the dirty dishes ..and gave an annoyed dirty look at Mitsuri who was scarfing down the remainder of her thirteenth plate before adding it to the stack he had to take away eventually.

"Eh...Is there anything else I can get you ladies?," he asked despite still eyeing the stack of plates with narrowed eyes. His tone not hiding his annoyance either.

"Can I get some of the devil's food cake on the menu?" Mitsuri beamed up at him widely as his nose wrinkled up. 

"I'm sorry but we're OUT," he bluntly stated before reluctantly grabbing the tall stack of dishes and grunting annoyed. "Can I get anyone else anything?"

Mitsuri blinked giving a glance at the stack of dishes the waiter was forced to carry away before guiltily and ashamedly looking down at her own hands. It caused a chain reaction of glares and frowns from the other girls glaring at him annoyed back.

"No. Just bring us the check."

The waiter seemed annoyed still but relieved to start collecting everyone else's plates adding it to the big pile in his arms before pausing as you gently reached out to gently tug on his sleeve and smiled politely. "May I please have some of the devil's food cake on the menu? Just add it to my part of the check please."

Now this time every gave you wide eyed looks at the audacity of the situation especially when Mitsuri was literally right THERE next to you but the waiter was all too happy to smile at you. "But of course. Give me just a minute to get back to you."

"Thank you very much!"

There was just dumbfounded silence as he walked away after picking up Kanae's dishes and hauling them away from the stunned group as you all sat there stunned other than you who only smiled... Eventually Mitsuri broke the silence with a mumble. 

"I thought they were out."

"What the heck, Y/n?!," Makio demanded as you just smiled at her as she gestured to Mitsuri and you. "She's right there! Did you freaking forget or something?!"

"Oh no. I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Why you-"

"Makio, calm down. We can't stop her from buying her own dessert if she's paying for it herself." Despite Kanae's soft tone, her look was obviously disapproving. "It's not like we can demand someone that they can't eat something."

Makio didn't say anything but she shot you a glare as you still smiled at her and Mitsuri sunk down further into her seat as everyone awkwardly waited for the checks to be delivered along with your dessert. About five minutes later the same waiter returned looking a little less annoyed but still had that blunt tone to him as he placed down at least seven checks for you all and a second later a VERY big delicious smelling, mouth watering, chocolate upon chocolate cake slice in front of you. 

"Here you are, Ma'am."

"Oh thank you! If you wait just a second, I'll give you your tip!" You clasped your hands happily as he smiled at you... Before you bluntly reached over, grabbed the plate, picked it up, and just placed it back down in front of Mitsuri who blinked in surprise. "Look, Mitsuri! They had some after all and what luck we were able to get you the last piece!" Her eyes widened bigger at you. "Aren't you lucky?"

Everyone stared gobsmacked as you just hummed along going to dig around in your purse for a second to pull out a five dollar bill before holding it up to the waiter whom looked like he was slapped across the face. The moment you waved the bill in his face, he glared at you before snatching it from your hand and stomping away from you table. There was another awkward moment as you left the thirty dollars for your part of the meal on the table before you blinked at the wide eyed stares given to you.

"What? Did I get her the wrong cake?"

Instead of an answer you were given a squeal from Mitsuri and then after another bone crushing hug as she hugged you with a large smile. "THANK YOU SO MUCH!  THIS IS LIKE THE NICEST THING A NEW PERSON HAS EVER DONE FOR ME!!"

You smiled wider looking at her. "No need to thank me. You shouldn't be treated badly just because of your appetite." She blinked as you patted her arms. "That guy's a jerk. Forget about him and just enjoy your cake. My treat."

She continued to stare at you before her face turned to a bright red and her hands let go of you to clasp her cheeks. "I-I don't know what to say. Oh my- Such a gesture!"

"You don't have to say anything. Just enjoy yourself. Sorry if I didn't explain it earlier."

"Oh. So that's why you ordered it." 

Makio slowly relaxed as you nodded.... Oblivious to the lovestruck, blushing face Mitsuri was giving you before you slowly got up to excuse yourself to the bathroom and asked them to watch your shopping bags in the meantime. The SECOND you disappeared from sight, Mitsuri slammed a determined palm down on the table and clenched a fist.

"Ok! It's official! Let's do all we can to get her together with Gyomei! She's absolutely perfect!"

"Huh? Where did this come from?"

"Oh..N-No where but we owe it to Mei to try and get him a great girlfriend like he deserves! So let's make her feel welcome! I mean like c'mon! She's literally perfect! She even tipped the waiter so we didn't have to!"

"Are you..blushing?"

"N-NO! I'm just very flattered at the gesture!"

By the time you got back, Mitsuri was already done eating and giddy again especially when you came back. The group gathered up the bags and decided to stop by two more small shops to pick up some pre-ordered stuff Tengen already paid for (a canvas and a box of hard to get paints) before they ushered you back out of the mall and on the street. At least four shopping bags hung from your own arms as Mitsuri held your hand and pulled you along behind her continuing to babble on about...Well you lost track after the part where she told you about how she got into ballet but you politely listened since she seemed so happy now dragging you down the road as cars drove by and people passed by on the sidewalk.

The building they stopped in front of was a smaller building than the mall but still bigger than your house. The sign on the front saying Salon, Sauna, and Beyond. Ah! So this must be the place that they were so excited to go. You allowed Mitsuri to excitedly drag you in after the others and the nice smells of rose air freshener hit your nose along with the cool air from the ac. The inside of the building was mostly white with a few paintings on the wall, some soft looking chairs, and a reception desk where a middle aged woman smiled at you all. Ah. This must've been the waiting area. 

The woman smiled at the group and waved a hand. "Good afternoon. Are you here to book an appointment?"

"I have a reservation for a group under Kocho actually!"

The lady took a moment to rummage around on her desk and look for something.. before nodded and happily looked at Shinobu. "Of course! We have your party booked for our three o clock reservation. If you'll follow me, you can get a locker for your belongings before proceeding to the salon floor."

In an instant Mitsuri looked excitedly at you. "Have you ever been to an onsen before, Y/n?"

You nodded. "My cousin had everyone go to one for her bachelorette party, so I've been to one once."

"Oh you'll love it then! The water is from natural hot springs so it's got minerals that's really good for your skin! But first we're getting our nails done and-"

And off she went again. 

It was ok still. You still were going to have a good time. It was just a small matter of getting a small safe place to put your shoes and bags before following the others to the other section of the salon separate from the onsen addition. Other an an older woman getting highlights in her hair, your group had the entire place to yourselves. 

It was a strange and new but not unpleasant experience there. After all you've never had your nails done let alone had anyone else take a nail file to your nails or had your feet soaked before getting a pedicure for the first time. As said it wasn't a bad experience just new. However you declined the massage offered to you. By the time three hours had passed and everyone had a turn to everything that was offered to them(none of you noticing the second group being escorted towards the onsen), it was time for the onsen according to Suma. There was only one problem however-

"Hey. Um..I don't know how any other way to say this,  but I don't feel comfortable washing with you all before we go to the onsen."

You weren't actually planning on getting into any onsens either and was just going to sit on the edge as they soaked, but you had to bath before going into the onsen and you didn't feel comfortable doing that as a group. Luckily Shinobu seemed very understanding and smiled at you. 

"That's fine. We're not going to make you do something you're not comfortable with so why don't you want outside for about fifteen minutes? We'll all be done by then and you can join us when you're done."

You sighed relieved. "That's great!"

"Good. When you're done just go through the doorway and down the hall. We'll be through the green door."

"Ok! I'll remember that!"

Guess who decided to show up in your life again? Yep that's right. Bad luck.

You had waited outside of the bathing area with the long fluffy white robe and the soap the spa ladies had given you to use and waited about twenty minutes for them all to get done (an extra five minutes just to be sure) before deciding to see if everyone was clear. A quick shout didn't get any response and a careful peek inside revealed that indeed no one else was in the room. Perfect! You were able to scrub down really quick and change into the robe you were given before wrapping a towel around your hair. Now let's see. Shinobu said they'd be in the room down the hall from here through the green door. Perfect! Easiest directions ever!

...or it would've been if you weren't staring at two exactly identical green doors at the end of the hall. 

You stood there dumbfounded staring between the doors again. There was a sign saying which one was the men's section.. unfortunately it had fallen off the wall where it was hung up and for some reason had been kicked to the middle of the hall so you had no idea which door it had been hanging above. Was someone trying to play a joke?! Or did no one notice the sign on the floor?! Or did they just not care and just kick it out of the way?! Either way you were screwed in this situation. Great.

Ultimately you decided to go through the right door. There was no one else in the spa besides yourself, your group, and the employees. The worst you'd do is enter an empty room or run into an employee who you'd just explain that you were were lost, and you might just run into the group. So you didn't think when you pushed open the door. When you stepped inside. When you smiled at first hearing the sloshing sounds of water. When you called out happily.

"Hey! I'm sorry I took so long! I got lost so-"

You froze as at least six heads turned to look at you in the doorway. 

It felt like an eternity to process what you were seeing as your mind just blue screened, but at the same time it felt like someone dropped a boulder into your stomach and jabbed ice into your veins with a syringe. There was definitely a group occupying the onsen in here alright...however it was uh...

They were definitely not girls. 

Six pairs of eyes stared at you. Some frozen in shock, some confusion, and at least in Sanemi's case it was a big 'wtf' look. Speaking of which-

IT WAS THE WRONG DAM ROOM!!

The boys all stared at you from somewhere in the room. Rengoku, Tengen, and Sanemi from in the water. Obanai sitting on the ledge looking wide eyed frozen at you with a towel around his middle and his mask still on his face. And Gyomei and Giyuu standing off to the side looking like they had been having a conversation but stopped when you walked in. However-

HOW WERE THEY ALL SO RIPPED-

"*ahem*" Eventually it was Gyomei who broke the extremely awkward silence by clearing his throat making you jump and calmly gesturing a hand back to the door. "Y/n, I believe you meant to enter through the o-other door."

"IMSOSORRY!!OHMYGOD-"

The door all but slammed behind your quickly disappearing form and the sound of your quickly retreating footsteps left everyone else staring there stunned in the aftermath.. before Tengen snickered body shaking lightly before his entire head was thrown back with his loud booming laughter echoed off the tiled walls.

"HAHAHAHAHA!! Well if she didn't think you were good looking before she does now!," he loudly announced with more laughter that turned into sputters and coughs once Sanemi splashed water into his face.

You didn't mention anything about this to the others. Didn't even answer them when they asked what took you you so long and why your face was burnt red. You only squealed out that you got lost but didn't answer anything else. Thankfully they didn't push it and you were able to try to forget about it..but failed. You were horrified by the time you all left and the guys were literally RIGHT THERE  in the lobby and...

Absolutely chill?

They didn't look the least bit out of the ordinary and just greeted their girlfriends like it was any other day except for Tengen who gave you a deeply amused smile but before he could say anything Obanai kicked his leg hard enough to make him wince. So hopefully he wouldn't be telling anyone else about this- A gentle large hand placed on your shoulder causes you to jump out of your stupor and snap up to a concerned looking Gyomei. 

"Are you alright?," his tone was gentle and concerned. "If you're uncomfortable being around after..*ahem*" His own face dawned a light pink. "I-I can pay for a taxi to take you home."

"N-No! I-It's ok! That was m-m-my fault! Um...How was your hike?" You quickly changed the subject.

Taking the hint he nodded clearing his throat. "I-It was wonderful. The forest was very vibrant with life and the waterfall was especially alive. There's not really anything that sounds quite as powerful as the Earth's own power."

"It sounds beautiful."

"It was."

*Until Sanemi dragged us to that ghost story knock off."

"HEY!!" You turned to catch Sanemi pointed and angry hand to Obanai. "SUPERNATURAL ACTIVITY TWO IS A FANTASTIC HORROR MOVIE! WAY BETTER THAN THAT SNAKE CRAP SHOW YOU BROUGHT!!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW GOOD STORYLINES WHEN YOU SEE THEM!!"

"That is enough!" The sudden shout from the otherwise soft spoken Gyomei was so out of the ordinary that it made everyone turn on the spot in shock and surprise. His face turned down on a frown towards the both of them. "This entire day was supposed to be about spending time with one another not argue over who has better taste in films. Further more you both are being very inconsiderate to make such fools of yourself in front of our guest for this trip. Now will you both please kindly stop going at each other's throats?"

There was a stunned small moment of silence as the both of them slowly relaxed back looking suddenly guilty. After another few seconds Gyomei nodded before looking back to you apologetically. 

"I'm very sorry."

"It's ok. I really don't mind anyways." 

"No. It's not ok. We were supposed to relax today without any fighting. They promised and now-.." He just sighed. "It's getting late and we all have classes and work tomorrow. We should all return home and get a good night's sleep. Do you need me to drop you off?"

You shook your head at him. "No it's ok. I can walk home after I take the bus back." 

"Then allow me to walk you home. It's the least I can do."

After such a kind gesture,how could you say no? That's what lead to you both walking down the street with your arms linked and the sun barely in the sky, and him carrying your bags in his other hand even though you told him he didn't have to but he insisted. It made a warm fluttery feeling go off in your chest that barely let you register saying goodbye to everyone else. And you definitely didn't see the way Mitsuri was giving you the 'first crush' eyes or the very approving look Kanae gave you. Only focusing on the fact that you were home now and the good feelings in your chest didn't go away even when he handed over your bags. 

"Thank you for walking me home."

He smiled. "As I said before it's the least I could do. I'm just happy you had fun with the girls today. I hope Mitsuri and Suma weren't too overwhelming. I know they can be a lot." 

"No they're great! I had so much fun. It's the best time I had for a long time to be honest." 

He chuckled too and looked like he was going to say something but at the same moment and elderly couple smiled at you while walking into the building next to your home. "Oh look, Dear. A young man walking his lady home. How charming. I remember when you used to walk me everywhere-"

"Oh no. He's not my boyfri-..He is?"

The look of surprise on his face as his head turned to you wide eyed. "I am?"

There was a silence other than the chatting older couple just entering into the building and leaving you both alone staring at each other for a long moment. Eventually you looked down at your feet and rubbed your arm.

"I-I mean.. Would you like to be?"

His white eyes widened to the size of plates as he was taken aback before the brightest shade of red came over him as he just.. couldn't believe it. Before a big smile replaced the shock and he nodded. "Y-YES! I mean- *ahem* I would like that very much. However are you sure you'd like to have me for a boyfriend. I will not sugarcoat the obvious." A hand gestured to his face. "I am blind and scarred."

"If I was really shallow to not date because of looks, then I wouldn't have agreed to that first date with you."

"I am seeing other people whom I love and care about very much. .. I'm not going to break up with them or any other outrageous demands."

"I wouldn't even dream of asking you to break up with them! I think they're wonderful people so I couldn't ask you that. And it's not going to be me dating them. I'm going to be dating you and I'm ok with that." You smiled. "You're the first guy I dated that's been completely honest with me and so kind. It makes me feel like I'm the luckiest person in the world."

"I-... Don't speak like that please."

You blinked. "Huh. Why?"

"Be-Because the beauteous genuity of your words only make you sound more beautiful to my mind."

Huh. You were both closer than he remembered. Just a few inches from one another twinkling under the lights. And you blinked at the sudden closeness too. Face going a dim pink and a few chuckles from the moment escaping you. Barely anyone was outside now, too busy inside mingling, eating the food, and enjoying the evening. So it was just you two. Alone out here with nothing but each other for company. His mind felt completely blank and numb but in a good way, compelling him to reach his hands up and cup a cheek of yours something his rational brain wouldn't allow himself to do. Inches away now. You didn't move away.

He stared at the woman in front of him, this silly silly woman with the beautiful voice. If he was watching this as an outsider, he would've laughed at how they were literally just strangers less than a while ago, but right now it didn't seem any of that or anything else mattered. Not even the topic they had been discussing just a few seconds ago. Or removing the hand that now cupped her cheek. Maybe it really was a mutual madness they both shared or some form of chaos in their lives, but right now....With them being so close...And so vulnerable. It was only natural of course-.. It's what soulmates do-.. Of course they would since-...

They kissed.

"Hey. Do you think Gyomei is going to be angry at us still?" Sanemi gave his girlfriend a glum look as she patted his back. 

"Of course not. He's just stressed trying to make a good impression is all. I'm sure he'll be just fine." Her boyfriend didn't look convinced as he gave her a pout. Oh well. She was distracted anyways by the ringing of her phone in her pocket to which she promptly pulled out and automatically held up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Kanae! Quickly I need help!"

She blinked as Gyomei's voice cut through the phone. "Mei? Are you ok? What happened?"

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BOYFRIEND!!"