#Fire Writes :D

[firefly464]

Scott | Pearl | Martyn | Cleo | Scar | Grian (You are here!)

Word Count: 5,408

Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Charles | Grian & Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Charles | Grian & Pearl | PearlescentMoon, Charles | Grian & Scott Major | Smajor1995

Characters: Charles | Grian, Pearl | PearlescentMoon, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Scott Major | Smajor1995

Additional Tags: POV Second Person, Character Study, Only Winners Remember the 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, Post-3rd Life SMP, Post-Last Life SMP, Post-Double Life SMP, Post-Secret Life SMP, Post-Wild Life SMP, oh boy this one goes through them all :DDD, Memory Alteration, 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series-Typical Character Death, Charles | Grian-centric, Avian Charles | Grian, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Charles | Grian/Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, kinda. again its more implied than anything, so! read as either /r or /p either way works :D, Implied/Referenced Suicide, its the end of third life. but he DOES in fact do it. and it IS talked about, Grian and his relationship with memory, Hurt/Comfort, GUYS THERES ACTUAL COMFORT IN THIS ONE I PROMISE

Series: Part 6 of Life after Life (again and again and again)

Summary:

You’re back. You’re back home and you’re safe and you’re alive.

You’re not in the desert and you’re not in your little panic bunker and you’re in your hobbit hole and you’re alive.

Your body doesn’t feel right. The skin is too loose. Your muscles feel too weak. It’s like someone ripped your soul from your body and couldn’t quite figure out how to put it back.

You numbly stare at your hands.

~~~

Or, an exploration of Grian and the memories that he is forced to carry.

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62846907

Or read it under the cut :D

~~~

There is no celebration when you win. There’s no applause as you hold your partner's broken body. No cheers as you push yourself up. 

There is no one to reach out and scream your name as you step off the towering cliff. 

There is only the ground rushing up to meet you. 

And then there is only darkness. 

~~~

You’re back. You’re back home and you’re safe and you’re alive.

You’re not in the desert and you’re not in your little panic bunker and you’re in your hobbit hole and you’re alive.

Your body doesn’t feel right. The skin is too loose. Your muscles feel too weak. 

It’s like someone ripped your soul from your body and couldn’t quite figure out how to put it back. 

You numbly stare at your hands.

Your hands.

Something’s wrong with your hands. You have no idea what it is but you know that something’s not right. 

They’re still your hands obviously, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right as you stare at them. 

…

Your scars are gone. They’re gone.

You raise a hand to your face, feel the skin along your cheek. Nothing.

Every scar and mark and piece of evidence that you survived the past two months are just… gone. 

You may not have liked them, but they were yours.

It feels wrong. Your body feels wrong, it’s broken, it’s completely disconnected from you and your breathing is speeding up and you know that you need to calm down but you can’t because it was always Scar that would help you calm down from a panic attack but Scar isn’t here right now because—

Scar. Scar.

The name cuts through your panic like a knife. 

You’re back on Hermitcraft. Which means that Scar might be here. 

Which means— 

You need to find him. 

~~~

Your flight to Scars base is far from graceful. Your landing even less so. 

You can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Scar could be alive. Not when he could be so close. 

“Scar!!!” You pound your fist against the door. “Scar open the door!!!” 

No response. Shit.

This is taking too long. What if he isn’t here? Or what if he’s injured and he isn’t able to get to the door and he needs help and—

The door creaks open. 

Scar is standing in front of you. He’s in front of you and he’s alive and his skin is warm and his eyes are green and he looks like he just woke up but he’s alive and you can’t stop the sob that bubbles up from your throat as you launch yourself at him and hug him tightly. 

Later, you will look back and chide yourself for being so blind. For not noticing how wrong everything feels.

But that is later. And now is now. And right now all you care about is the fact that he’s here with you.

He stumbles back slightly, but he hugs you back regardless. “Whoa! Whoa… hey, it’s ok, you’re ok…”

It’s the same tone he used whenever you woke up screaming. It’s warm. It’s kind.

You pull back from the hug and grab his face so you can see it better. 

He looks so different. His face is fuller, his hair is clean, most of the scars that you had spent so many weeks mapping out are gone, but it’s still so clearly him.

God. He looks so much better than he ever had back in the desert. 

And his eyes… they’re green. Not blood red or sickly yellow or even the violent green of someone who has never lost a life. They’re simply… dark green. 

You think you might start crying again. 

“Uhhh, G? Not that I’m not flattered or anything but… are you ok?”

It’s such a ridiculous question, you want to laugh. He’s really asking if you’re ok. As if he’s not the one that was just beaten to death by the person who had stayed by his side through everything.

“Your eyes are green…” is what you say instead, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Yes…?” He looks confused. “Are they not supposed to be…?”

You don’t bother to hide the small huff of amusement. “No… no, green is good. Green is very good.”

“Good! That’s good! Um… remind me why it’s good?”

Something dark starts to form in the back of your mind. You grip his face slightly tighter. “B-because it means they’re not red.”

“Right, right, of course.” No recognition. “Uh, why would they be red?”

It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on your head. You stumble backwards. You force yourself to look at him, to really look at him. 

Oh. Oh god. 

You’re so stupid.

The way he holds himself— it’s all wrong. It’s too relaxed, too gentle. There’s none of the harsh corners that had been carved out in the desert. None of the cruelty that had once lurked behind his gaze. 

This isn’t your Scar. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember.

He doesn’t remember the desert and he doesn’t remember what you’ve been through together and the world is crashing down around you and Scar is reaching out to grab you and your wings are unfurling out behind you as your face contorts into a snarl and Scar looks horrified and confused and you—

You don’t dare look back as you fly away. 

~~~ 

You’re the only one who remembers. You’re the only one who remembers the hell that you went through. 

Everyone that you mention it to asks you if you’re feeling ok. If you’ve been sleeping enough. They ask you if you’ve been having nightmares, or perhaps you’re feeling stressed? Have you considered taking some time off? Maybe you should take a vacation before everyone migrates to the new season, it might do you some good!

It doesn’t take long for you to stop asking. 

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you really did make the whole thing up and it was nothing more than a dream. It’s not like you have any proof. Even your skin contradicts your story. 

All you have left are your own memories. 

You really hope everyone else is right. 

~~~ 

The hope doesn’t make the nightmares go away. It doesn’t stop you from waking up screaming or flying over to Scar’s base in the middle of the night just so you can make sure that his skin isn’t grey and his eyes are green and that he’s safe.

It doesn’t change the fact that it takes weeks for you to be able to talk to anyone without a hand on your sword. Or the fact that it takes even longer for you to be able to talk to Ren without feeling sick. Or the fact that you constantly have to remind yourself that you have wings that work, that they aren’t just dead weight attached to your back.

But you hold onto the hope regardless. You’re not sure what you would do without it. 

~~~

Season seven ends and season eight begins. You’re almost able to forget the entire thing ever happened. 

Almost. 

~~~~~

And then you’re pulled back in.

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry. On one hand, this means that it was real. It was real. The two golden hearts on your arm are proof of that. Proof that you weren’t losing your mind. 

But on the other… you’re back. You’re back.

You reach out and grasp the memory of home. You find it and you hold it tight. 

You don’t want to lose it again. 

~~~

It doesn’t hurt as much when you wake up in Boatem this time. There’s no crushing guilt, no desperate need to find someone and check that they’re ok. 

There is only the phantom ache in your gut of a respawn gone wrong. 

Your injuries have been erased again. It feels just as strange and uncomfortable as it did the first time. Your skin doesn’t feel like your own anymore. 

It’s going to take you a while to get used to it again.  

You have no way of knowing who won. You were killed long before a victor was crowned. 

You try not to think about it too much. 

~~~

You find Pearl a few days later, sitting on the edge of the Boatem hole. Her feet dangle over the edge, over the gaping maw of certain death. 

You have to stop yourself from reaching forward and pulling her back. 

She’s fine, you tell yourself. Death is nothing more than an inconvenience here. You all sit there all the time. She’s fine.

She doesn’t react when you come sit next to her. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on empires?” That’s what the Boatem group calendar had said at least. 

Her face scrunches up. “Decided to come back early. Scott was acting weird.”

“What?”

“Not like— mean, weird, just… weird. I don’t see him normally, but he keeps coming over and visiting. I heard someone say that he’s doing the same thing to Jimmy.”

You have a sinking feeling that you might know where this is going. “And?”

“He keeps looking at me like I’m already dead.”

~~~

<Grian> are you ok?

<Smajor1995> yeah, what’s up?

<Grian> Pearl said you’re being clingy

<Smajor1995> oh

<Smajor1995> yeah, I’m fine. Had a pretty bad nightmare a few days ago. Guess it freaked me out more than I realized. 

The excuse would make you laugh if the circumstances were any different. It’s the same one that you’ve used over and over again. Normally, it’s enough to make people back off and stop asking questions. 

Not this time. 

<Grian> that’s fair. I did the same thing last time

<Grian> I wouldn’t let Scar out of my sight for a solid week after I woke up

You decide not to mention the way that you had panicked every time your communicator had buzzed with another death message. Or the way that you had rushed to his base so you could be there when he respawned. Or the crushing fear that he would wake up and his eyes would gleam red. 

Scott doesn’t respond for several minutes. You don’t blame him. 

<Smajor1995> why does no one else remember?

<Grian> I don’t know 

~~~

The two of you plan to meet up on a separate server. There’s so much to talk about, so much to piece through. Far too much to try and talk about through messages. 

And then season eight falls apart, and you’re never given the chance.

~~~~~ 

Soulmates. Soulmates. Who in their right mind thought that soulmates was a good idea. It’s ridiculous! 

And the fact that you’re partnered up with Scar, of all people? Really?!

Not that you don’t enjoy being around him. Quite the opposite, actually. 

That’s the part that scares you. 

Because you know yourself. You know that if you don’t shut him out completely you’ll latch on tight and never let go. 

Just like the desert. 

You can’t go through that again. You can’t.

He’s going to think that you hate him. 

That’s fine. It’s not like he’ll remember it.

~~~

You’re not surprised when Scott shows up at your door. You’re really not. The two of you still had to talk after all. 

There had been an unspoken agreement between you that you wouldn’t bring it up around the others. No use in inviting unwanted questions.   

What you are surprised by is the fact that he catches you as you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night. 

He tries to ask you what you’re doing. You make up something about needing some fresh air. 

It’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you. That’s fine. You don’t really need him to. 

You talk about nothing for a bit, both of you dancing around the subject. As if that’ll make it any easier to handle. 

In the end, he’s the one to bring it up first. 

“I sort of expected you to be a bit happier about all this.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Happier? Why on earth would you be happy about this?

“Yknow, being paired up with Scar, considering…” he waves his hand vaguely. “Yknow.”

Oh. That’s what this is about. You can hear the light teasing in his voice, but you’re not exactly in the mood. 

“Right. Considering how I got to kill him with my own two hands, I’m absolutely thrilled.”

“… oh. Is that… is that what happened?”

“Yeah.” You don’t brother keeping the bitterness out of your voice. 

“Were you the last two left?”

You glare at him. He seems to realize how stupid of a question it is. 

“Right. Right, sorry. Um… have you tried talking to him about it?”

A startled laugh bursts free. “Talk to him? Really? Like how you’ve talked to Jimmy? Or Pearl?”

Scott flinches like he’s been hit. You try to bring yourself to care. 

But then you think of Pearl, abandoned and alone in her tower, and it doesn’t quite work. 

“I— that’s not—”

He’s stepping away. You’ve backed him into a corner. 

Good.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take my walk now.”

He doesn’t try to stop you from walking away

~~~

Your ears are still ringing when you wake up. God. You hate wardens. You hate them so much. They’re big and loud and they smell.

You’re such an idiot. Bringing a warden to the surface? Really? That was your grand plan? In what world was that going to end well?

You’re glad that Scar isn’t going to remember what happened. He’d never let you live it down. 

Your communicator buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s a simple message, but reading it is enough to make your blood freeze in your veins. 

<Smajor1995> Pearl won

You’re out the door in an instant. 

Flying is never easy right after you wake up. It always takes you time to get re-accustomed to having working wings.

Last time, you had given yourself a few days to recover before you tried to fly, and even then you had made sure to practice on your own. 

You can’t afford to give yourself that same luxury this time. 

Because Pearl won and you had seen the way that she had unraveled in her tower on her own and oh god she’s going to remember that for the rest of time. 

Your landing isn’t particularly graceful. You can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Pearl remembers everything she went through. 

“Pearl? Pearl!!!” You bang your fist against the door. “Pearl if you don’t open the door in the next 10 seconds I’m coming in!!”

A few moments of silence. You hit the door again.  

Then she calls out—

“You really wanna take that risk?” 

“What?”

“That’s a closed door that opens inwards. You have no way of knowing what’s on the other side. You wanna take that risk?”

You desperately want to say that yes, of course you’ll take that risk. Of course you’ll walk through a shut door just so that you can make sure that she’s ok. 

The words die in your throat. 

She’s bluffing. You know that she’s bluffing. There’s no way that she would have had time to rig a trap. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that your hand freezes on the doorknob. 

Because what if she isn't lying? What if she’s telling the truth and there really is some horrific trap that’ll kill you the second you open the door?

Scar would never let you live it down if you get the both of you killed because you walked into a trap that you knew was there.

Except— no. Scar isn’t here. You’re not tied to him anymore. There’s no marks on your arm telling you how many lives you have left. 

You’re fine.

You push open the door.

There’s no explosion. No potion or lava dropping from the sky, not even a weapon swinging down at your head. 

There’s only Pearl. Clutching an axe and staring you down. She’s trembling.

Her eyes are narrowed in an expression that you’ve grown far too used to over the past few weeks. You have no doubt that she’ll cut you down with that axe the second that you so much as breathe in the wrong direction. 

You can’t bring yourself to care. Because her eyes are blue again and the frostbite that had covered her fingers and legs is gone and the bright red jacket that she had shielded herself with is gone and she’s ok. You don’t think before you launch yourself at her, enveloping her in a hug. 

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know full well how bad of an idea this is. You know full well just how easily she could cut open your stomach. 

The rest of you couldn’t care less. All that you care about is the fact that her cheeks are streaked with tears and you don’t want her to go through this alone. 

The axe falls to the ground. She wraps her arms around you. Her shoulders are trembling. 

Later, she will tell you the full story of how she won. She will tell you about how Scott had looked her in the eye and decided her fate for her. You will watch as her face will contort with rage as she realizes the extent of the curse Scott has placed upon her. 

You will watch as she storms out of the room, determined to find him and give him a piece of his mind.  

But that is later. And now is now. And right now the only thing that’s important is that you wrap her in your wings and hold her tight.

~~~~~ 

You try to take a different approach during the next game. You allow yourself to go along with the lighthearted jokes that Jimmy and Joel come up with.

It helps for a while. You manage to forget that you’re all going to kill each other eventually. You forget about the heavy weight of time pressing against your neck.

But all good things must come to an end. And all the laughter in the world isn’t quite enough to drown out Jimmy’s scream as he falls to his death.

It’s not quite enough to make you forget the way that Joel begs for just a few more minutes.

You don’t even get to see him die.

You wonder how long they’ll haunt your nightmares.

~~~

<Smajor1995> martyn won

<Smajor1995> ill talk to him

At least it’s not you this time.

~~~ 

The next time you see Martyn, you can see the weight of his victory upon his skin. His smile is sharper than it was before, his eyes are more cruel. 

You’re not surprised. It’s a change that you have seen before, and it’s a change you will see again. 

You try not to think about it too hard. 

~~~~~  

This sucks. This really sucks. You can’t remember the last time you felt so alone during one of these games. 

Well. You’re not technically alone, you have Etho and Cleo, but it feels… wrong. It’s like there’s a pane of glass between you and them. 

You suppose that’s what you get for joining so late. 

You should probably be grateful. It could always be worse. Scar is living proof of that. 

You can’t help but feel bad for him. 

It’s fine, you remind yourself, it’s fine.

It’s not like he’s going to remember. 

~~~

Thirty minutes. That’s how long you’re given to recover from the game. Thirty minutes.

Maybe even less. You don’t really know. 

But now your communicator is open and you can’t tear your eyes away from the message on it. 

<PearlescentMoon> scar won’t wake up

You can’t move. The world has frozen around you. Or perhaps nothing has changed. You don’t know. 

Your communicator buzzes again. 

<PearlescentMoon> hello?

<PearlescentMoon> please don’t tell me you’re also still asleep

<PearlescentMoon> I don’t think I can handle that right now 

<Grian> I’m awake

<Grian> on my way

~~~

You’ve never thought about what happens to you during the games. All you know is that you spend nearly two months killing all of your friends, and then you wake back up in your bed with no one else even aware that you were missing. 

Now, as you stare at Scar’s sleeping form, you really wish it had stayed that way. 

Pearl had explained what happened when you arrived. She had explained how Scar had won.

It’s a miracle you didn’t start crying. 

You don’t know where she is now. With Gem and Impulse maybe? They were the ones that had been looking for her. She had wanted to stay by Scars side, but you had encouraged her to go. You’d said something about how spending time with people who didn’t remember would be good for her.

You both ignore how obvious the lie is. 

She must have realized that you needed time to yourself. You can't help but be grateful she knows you so well.

You had broken down the moment she had left the room.

The games were bad. They were always bad. But the bad was supposed to be contained. It wasn’t supposed to affect things out here, you were supposed to be able to move on.

You’re not supposed to be sitting by your friend's side, unsure if he’s going to wake up. 

No. No he’s going to wake up. He has to wake up. 

You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t. 

~~~

Pearl’s back. She looks a little better now. 

That makes one of you at least.

~~~

“He’s going to hate me when he wakes up…” The admission cuts through the silence with ease. 

“What do you mean?”

You open your mouth. Close it again. Try to figure out how on earth you’re going to explain this. 

“I… How much have I told you about third life?”

And for the first time in nearly three years, you tell someone about the desert. 

Pearl, to her credit, is a wonderful audience. She gives you her full attention, reacts in all the right places. She even teases you when your face turns red. 

It’s nice. Almost enough to make you pretend that you aren’t describing one of the worst things that happened to you. 

And then you reach the end. You tell her about the cactus ring. You tell her about the cliff.

“I didn’t think I was going to wake up…” you whisper. The realization sits heavy upon your heart. 

The games always did that. They made you believe that each final death was permanent, that each time you took a red life, you were ensuring that your friend would never open their eyes again. It didn’t matter how many times you had woken up on Hermitcraft afterwards or how much of the old games that you remembered. The guilt was always there. Always.

You don’t think any of the winners had expected to wake up after all was said and done.

But the difference between them and you is that their deaths were all caused by an outside force. Yours? Yours had been a choice.

You can see the moment that Pearl comes to that same realization. She looks like she’s going to cry. 

You keep talking. 

“But then I did and no one else remembered.” You force yourself to take a deep breath. “I had to look him in the eye and realize that I was the only one who remembered what we had been through.”

You can see the moment that the pieces click together in her head. 

“Oh…” She says softly, “That’s why, in double life, you…”

You think you might be crying too. “It was easier than losing him again.”

“He thought you were ashamed of him.”

“I know.” 

“He thought you hated him…” 

“I know…” 

There’s nothing else you can say.

~~~

Mumbo is looking for you. You don’t want to leave Scar. 

Pearl throws all your own arguments back in your face. She reminds you that you haven’t spoken to anyone since you woke up yesterday. You haven’t even gone outside.

Besides, you had agreed to not get anyone who hadn’t won involved. It was something you had agreed to when Pearl had first won. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to find out that they had killed each other over and over again. 

It seemed more important than ever to stick to it. 

If you ignore him he’ll probably come looking and you know that this will be one of the first places he checks and then you’ll have to explain why Scar is passed out and why you and Pearl have clearly been down here for the past day and… 

Ok fine. Maybe Pearl is right and going with him is definitely the right call. That doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it.

~~~

You don’t remember much from your time with Mumbo. You just remember checking your com every few minutes, trying to see if Pearl had messages you. 

He had threatened to take it from you if you kept checking it. You’re still not sure if he was joking or not. 

Not that it mattered. 

Scar is still asleep when you get back. 

~~~

Another day passes. He still hasn’t woken up. 

Pearl is the one who finally says what you’ve both been thinking. 

“We need to tell X.” 

You know. Logically, you know. One of the Hermits is in danger. He needs to know. He’d probably be able to actually do something, and then you wouldn’t just be sitting here doing nothing and being completely useless.

You really don’t want to. 

Because telling X means telling him about the games. Telling X means that Scar is actually in danger. Telling X means admitting that something is actually wrong. 

“One more day,” you say, “Give him one more day.” 

~~~

Pearl isn’t there when it happens. She isn’t there when Scar opens his eyes with a gasp. And she most certainly isn’t there to see you jump five feet in the air and have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from screaming. 

You want to launch yourself at him, to hold him tightly and make sure that he’s ok, but you force yourself to wait. You don’t know if it would make things worse. 

He’s staring up at the ceiling. You’re not sure if he’s even realized that you’re there. 

“Scar…?” You whisper gently.

Something is wrong. Something is deeply wrong. 

Winning the games was a curse. It left a mark on you. A piece of canvas torn away. 

You can always attempt to fix it, you can replace the fabric, attempt to remember what was over there, do your best to match the colors that once existed. 

With time, you might get close. You might even reach a point where an outside viewer would never be able to tell that a chunk had been violently ripped out. But the damage will always be there. It will forever be changed. 

You’re unsure if yours will ever come close to what it once was. You sometimes wonder if the people around you miss what it used to look like. 

When Scar turns his head towards you, you feel your breath freeze in your lungs.

There’s no damage in his painting. No canvas missing, no smeared colors, nothing. 

There’s nothing. It’s gone.

His gaze returns to the ceiling. He looks so tired.

“Now that’s just cruel…” 

Words get caught in your throat. How are you supposed to respond to that?

He takes a deep breath, pushes himself to a sitting position. 

He’s staring at you. You feel like you’re being studied. 

You force yourself not to squirm. 

“Scar?” 

“Hold on.” He holds up a hand. “I’m trying to decide if you’re real or not.”

“If I’m— what?”

“If you’re real. It’s gotten very hard to tell. Come here.”

He reaches out. You stumble forward. 

He grips your hand tightly. A finger presses against your pulse point.

He drops it. Pulls you down so that he can hold your face. Tears are starting to well up in his eyes. 

You don’t dare move away. 

His thumb presses into your cheek, right below your eye. 

“Your scar is gone…” 

You know which one he’s talking about. You had tripped over your own two feet while carrying supplies and hadn’t been able to catch yourself before slamming face first into the side of the mountain. Your cheek had been sliced by the exposed sandstone. 

Scar had still been yellow at the time. 

The wound itself had healed just fine, but it had scarred pretty badly. 

He used to trace it with his thumb and say you were a matching set. That the desert had claimed you as her own. 

“Yeah.” You lift your hand and gently place it on top of his. “It disappeared after 3rd life…”

It was the one scar you were truly upset about losing. 

“Oh…” he doesn’t move his hand. “I’m so used to seeing you with it.”

You… you really don’t want to think about the implications of that. 

“Is this real? Are you real?”

You can only nod in response. 

“You promise? I’m not going to wake back up in Trader Scars?”

“I promise.”

“Ok.” He takes a deep breath. “Ok…”

Later, after Pearl arrives and tears are exchanged, she will be the one to ask the question that you’ve been dreading. She will be the one to ask him how long it’s been. 

He will think about it for far too long before shrugging and saying something about how the sunflowers had started to wilt again, and your heart will plummet.

A year. What had been three days for you had been a year for him. 

And you had done nothing to get him back. 

~~~ 

Season nine comes to an end. You can’t help but feel a bit relieved when it does. 

There’s too many bad memories here. Too many memories of sleepless nights with Pearl and Scar as you all tried desperately to forget the hell that you’ve been cursed to remember. Too many memories of finding Pearl clutching a bucket of snow in her hands, of walking in on Scar talking to the open air. 

Season ten will be a breath of fresh air. A new start. 

~~~ 

Time passes. You get settled in the new world. Things get better for all three of you. According to the message that you’ve been getting from Martyn and Scott, things are getting better for them as well.

There comes a moment when you realize that you can’t remember the last time you had a nightmare. It’s a wonderful realization to have. 

You wonder if it’s over. If you’re finally free. It’s a kind thought. It feels warm. 

And then you’re pulled back in. 

~~~~~

Something is different this time. You can feel it from the second you wake up in that damned circle. 

The Universe must have grown tired of you. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why it’s decided to interfere so directly this time. 

You think you might hate it.

~~~

You manage to find Scar after things settle down a bit. He looks different. 

His posture is more relaxed, his shoulders less tense. He seems more comfortable here than he has in the past year on Hermitcraft. 

The realization makes you feel sick. 

You can’t let it happen again. 

You won’t let it happen again. 

~~~

You reach the end. One of the last two. 

There’s no ceremony this time. No fair fight, no pausing to burn the last few reminds of those you had killed. 

There is only you and Joel. 

And then you fall.

And only Joel is left.

~~~

He tells you that there was no celebration when he won. That there was no one there to cheer his name as he had knocked you off the tree. No one to join him in his victory lap. 

He stares at you, demanding to know where all the other winners are. They all remember, right? Why on earth aren’t they here to congratulate him?

You shrug and attempt to explain that winning has never been something to celebrate. That it’s always been a more solemn achievement.

He tells you that you’re being stupid. That acting miserable about it only makes you feel worse. You won, didn’t you? You might as well act like it. 

And for the first time, the thought of winning the games doesn’t weigh quite as heavy on your soul.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

01/01

NEW ACE BIRTHDAY ART FINALLY DROPPED! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KING

[wetdeadroses]

ace loves it when you’re sleepy, because you’re just so damn soft and cute. he never thought he’d find so much joy in lazing around into the late hours of the day, your legs tangled with his in the sheets. he’d pretend he has work to do, all so he can see that precious little pout on your lips as you pull him even closer with those delicate hands of yours, pleading for five more minutes. he would give in, and he would try his hardest to hide that cheeky little grin, but when he buries his face in your neck, you can feel his smile playing across your skin. he craves every second, every moment, of your touch; he basks in this sanctuary made up of the two of you. even if it is just five more minutes, he can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: You can't help but tease Ace and rile up this hothead. Pairing: Ace x afab reader CW: SMUT MINORS DNI, Ace is a little shit, fingering • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

You didn’t think much about putting on the sweater. It wasn’t supposed to be provocative- not at first. It was a simple, oversized thing of his that you slipped on after your shower. But the way it draped over your bare thighs, paired with your panties peeking out just beneath the hem if you bent the right way, had Ace’s attention locked onto you the moment you walked into the room. 

You could feel his gaze, heavy and burning, tracing your legs as you reached up to adjust the star on the tree that had fallen lopsided. The motion caused the sweater to ride up just enough to see the plush of your ass and the barely-there fabric hugging them.

“You’re gonna kill me wearing that,” he said, voice rough around the edges, a telltale rasp slipping through that betrayed how tightly wound up he was. 

You glanced over your shoulder, feigning innocence as you tugged the sweater down with a small shrug. “What, this? I just picked out something comfortable.”

You walked toward him slowly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame with each sway of your hips. When you reached the couch, you placed one knee beside his thigh, leaning in just enough to hover over him. His breath hitched, and his jet-black eyes narrowed with desire. 

His hands inched up, aching to grab you as you kept him on edge. Your lips hovered over his, so, so close that he could almost taste you, and just as he leaned forward to close the gap, you shifted. Reaching past him, you grabbed the remote sitting on the cushion beside him. 

“Oh here it is,” you said, leaning back with a triumphant smile. 

Ace blinked in an almost comical way, dumbfounded by the last second, before realizing what you had done. An incredulous laugh escaped him, but the glint in his eyes turned sharper, hungrier. 

“You think that’s funny?”  he asked, tone dangerous in the best of ways. 

You barely got your footing on the ground before his hands shot out, gripping your waist and pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a half gasp half laugh as you straddled him, your knees pressed into the couch on either side of him. His grip was firm, fingers digging into your skin with enough pressure to remind you exactly who was in charge now.

“If you keep doing that,” he murmured, lips brushing against your ear, “you’re going to make me end up on the naughty list tonight.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly as his cocky smirk spread even wider. His hands roamed, sliding to grip the curve of your hips and guide you more flush against him. 

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” he added, tilting his head to meet your gaze. Ace’s grip on your hips tightened as he shifted beneath you, his voice low and teasing, but his actions were anything but playful. He flipped you over with ease and you yelped as the world tilted and the cushions of the couch suddenly cradled your back, Ace’s body now hovering over yours like a predator who has finally caught his prey. 

His calloused fingers danced teasingly slow over the hem of your sweater, skimming your thighs before slipping underneath it. The sweater bunched higher as his hands roamed, skimming over every curve and dip, each touch unhurried as he savored the way your body reacted to him. The cool air kissed your skin as he pushed the fabric up further, his gaze dripping with desire as the last remnants of your modesty slipped away. 

“You’re stunning like this,” he said, the growl in his voice making your pulse quicken. His thumb traced the edge of your panties, teasing but never quite giving in, absolutely tormenting you with each passing second. 

His fingers traced the lace for a moment longer before you bucked your hips upward, guiding his hand to where you needed him most. He glanced at you with a smirk, chuckling as he muttered something about how needy you were, but he was not one to leave you hanging for too long. The first touch was electrifying, sending a sharp gasp tumbling from your lips. His thumb circled your clit lazily, testing the waters, while his other hand gripped your thigh and grounded you beneath him.

The pace of his thumb on you was maddening, each movement meant to draw out every pretty noise and expression you had to offer. He watched you with a hunger that made your cheeks burn, his gaze drinking in the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted with each moan, the way your hips moved of their own accord, chasing the high you so desperately needed.

He paused just for the briefest of seconds to slip a finger inside, following right after with another, pulling a mewl from your lips. He slowly pumped his fingers, resuming the circling of your clit until he had your breath hitching and your vision hazy with pleasure. Every sound you made spurred him on, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that almost felt like it could swallow you whole. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice barely reaching you through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. “So beautiful. So… perfect for me.”

The utter awe in his voice seemed to have your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more. “I can feel the way you just squeeze around my fingers more when I do… that,” he punctuated his words with a particularly well-aimed thrust that had you crying out. 

He trailed off, continuing to angle his wrist so his fingers would continue to hammer against that perfect spot inside of you. Your body arched into his touch as the pleasure crescendoed rapidly. 

Ace leaned forward and pressed his lips against your sweat-dampened jaw, leaving a trail of kisses as he murmured just how good you were doing for him. A broken moan escaped you, your hands grasping at the cushions, his arms, anything, as your body tensed, right at the precipice of bliss. Ace knew your body all too well, and you could feel his smirk against you, the confidence just radiating off of him as he pushed you just a little more until you--!

The coil in your belly snapped, the pleasure busting through your veins, consuming each and every cell of your body. Your hole clenched rapidly around his fingers and your thighs tightened around his waist as tremors rippled through you head to toe. He didn’t stop, even after you wailed out his name along with a string of profanities that you didn’t know was in your vocabulary. He just guided you through every pulse of your high, his fingers never faltering as he milked every ounce of pleasure from your trembling form. 

When you finally came down, your breaths were ragged, your body pliant beneath his hands. Ace eased his fingers out slowly, a string of your essence still connecting you to him before it snapped.

Ace didn’t give you a chance to recover before his hands were already sliding under your thighs, hiking you up so now your core was a breath away from his mouth. A teasing smirk pulled at his lips as he leaned in and kissed right where you had just soaked the fabric of your panties. His tongue traced your swollen clit, drawing a high-pitched whimper from you. He pulled back slightly, chuckling as you squirmed, your hands flying up to push him away from your over-sensitive core.

“Calm down, that’s not what this is for,” he chided. “Just need to get these out of the way.” 

His teeth grazed the edge of your panties, and he bit down gently, catching the fabric between his teeth before pulling back, the fabric slipping down your legs. He tossed the undergarment aside as he guided your hips back down to his lap. Though, now there was something warm and very hard lying against your thigh. You didn’t even need to glance down to realize that he had freed himself from his pants while your hips were busy hiked up in the air just a moment ago.

Your eyes darted down just in time to witness him grabbing the base of his cock and tapping it against your thigh, his smirk smug as ever as he made eye contact with you. “There,” he said, settling into a more comfortable position between your legs. “Now that you’ve been taken care of, it’s only fair you return the favor, don’t you think?”

[aerodyssey]

Hermit-a-Day May || Day 3: Tango !!

Honestly really proud of how he turned out, especially my first attempt! I reallly like how it came out :D I did have to redraw some bits because my first attempt at the full design seemed too basic, but glad I did because I love the cool arm !

[lady-of-moths]

PDA Headcanons - Ace

Word count: 655

Suggestive (N/SFW)

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Ace’s initials are not “PDA” for nothing. He’s not ashamed of showing the world how just hopelessly in love the two of you are.

He loves to touch you - whether it’s holding hands, a hug, a hand on your waist, caressing your hair, a sweet kiss on the top of your head, or a passionate kiss on your lips, he loves to feel you near.

He will often have an arm around your waist or shoulders, or a warm hand resting on the small of your back. His ego will swell to the heavens and beyond if you grab onto his arm while strolling around on some island - it makes him feel loved, wanted, and needed.

When holding hands, he’ll often give it a random squeeze to make you look at him for no reason in particular, other than just wanting to see your smile.

Ace loves to feel your fingers trailing through his hair, especially when he lays down for a nap. A sunny day and a nap on Moby Dick’s deck would be incomplete without his head resting in your lap, and your fingers slowly combing through his dark, shaggy mane. Ace hasn’t known much mildness in his life, not even as a child, and especially not now that he is all grown up and an infamous hot shot. This is why your gentleness towards him makes you and your moments together that much more extraordinary.

Ace loves to show you off. He’s damn proud of himself for scoring someone like you. Anyone with eyes can see how hot you are, but to Ace, what’s inside is worth so much more. Not only are you a treat to look at, but you’re also one of the kindest people he’s ever met. And as the object of your affections, Ace is thoroughly convinced he must be the luckiest guy on Earth.

He often lets you wear his hat, especially when he’s not around. You love carrying a little piece of him with you when the real deal is unavailable, and he loves seeing you wear his things, cus that’s what couples do, right? He doesn’t really have a shirt for you to steal, so then his hat it is. He thinks it’s both cute and funny how you keep insisting on wearing it, despite it clearly being too big for you.

His kisses are passionate. Just like his devil fruit, just like his temper, and his taste in food, Ace brings hotness all around. He’ll capture your lips and kiss you with reckless abandon. And if someone’s watching? Then who gives a fuck? Let them see how much you love each other. You’ll usually be the one to break the kiss - the intensity of which makes you feel a bit awkward in public. Ace will just laugh it off.

When you guys are alone, and he can really let loose, no one can match his passion. His kisses are hot, messy, and sloppy. His tongue will invade your mouth at the slightest chance. It’s not uncommon for him to bite your lip or pinch you so he can slip his tongue into your mouth the moment you gasp.

Ace’s lips are not the only ones to express his passion. His hands will be all over you if given the chance - rubbing, stroking, squeezing, kneading, and pinching.

Ace does not shy away from biting or nipping - whether it’s your lips, earlobes, neck, shoulders, or nipples.

In the same trend, he loves to leave love-bites on your skin - a reminder of your fun times, and a heads-up to any other interested parties that you’re his, and his alone. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he gets a bit of a kick from marking you, especially when others notice and joke about it.

Conversely, however, he’s not big on getting hickeys himself but will proudly show off the red marks your nails dug in his back. 

[anmechokola]

Fire, Flame and Inhereted Will

(Spoilers for up to chapter 1138)

In chapter 506, when Rayleigh is talking about Roger's execution, he says:

In Japanese, the words he used were

僅かに灯った "命の火"を - barely burning "fire of life"

and

燃え広がる"業火" - spread "hellfire"

What he meant was that Roger used what little life he had left to change the lives of people all over the world. So fire here has an association with not only change, but also life. Roger (and Ace) is also associated specifically here with 火 (fire) and not 炎 (flame), but I'll get to that.

Now we, as readers, can think what we want about Ace's death, but from the perspective of the World Government, he was easily the most dangerous man alive. He was the biological son of Gol D. Roger, the natural inheritor of his Will. He was in fact the son of two people of the D. clan. He was literally made of fire. Ace had everything to be the Pirate Prince come to burn their world to the ground.

And yet, he wasn't. He didn't. It was never his dream. He never wanted to be a part of Roger's legacy and didn't inherit his Will. His execution mirrored Roger's (deliberately, probably) and yet his fire wasn't the one to bring hellfire to the world. While Roger gave a speech and, more importantly, chose to be there, Ace didn't choose any part of what happened to him. He was just a pawn in a larger war, a warning the Marines could give to the world and an excuse to bring an Emperor down. He was the catalyst, but it wasn't his Will that got him there, he wasn't the one who spread the flames.

(chapters 1 and 569)

In contrast to Ace, look at Sabo. Ace is Firefist (火拳) but Sabo is Flame Emperor (炎帝), and I think that distinction is important. As far as I could find out (better speakers can correct me), 火 is used for fire in a more general sense, while 炎 is used for the actual image of a burning fire, or a more intense fire. Sabo, Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, is a much more concrete and pressing danger than Ace ever was.

As a side note, the move Sabo uses in Dressrosa in chapter 743 is called Dragon's Breath (竜の息吹). 息吹 means breath, but also a sign (of something new and fresh), or a breath (of spring, fresh air, etc).

In the end, Sabo is the one who is bringing a "breath" of change into the world. He is the one who inherited Ace's fruit and Dragon's Will and fanned the flames of Revolution. Sabo may not be a D., but he carries two of their Wills. He is the one who is turning the smoldering sparks of rebellion into an inferno, he's the one who is actually threatening the World Government.

(chapter 1054)

(Also, seeing Ace die was the trigger for Sabo to recover his memories and eventually go after the Mera Mera Fruit. So, in a sense, it's an interesting bit of cosmic karma that the World Government ended up lighting the flames of their own hellfire.)

Fire links all three brothers, actually. Their lives were all changed by the fire at the Gray Terminal that ultimately drove Sabo to run away, lose his memories and join the Revolutionary Army. That loss caused Ace and Luffy to honor Sabo's apparent death and promise to live with no regrets and caused Ace to promise Luffy that he would never die.

Luffy ended up being the one to inherit Roger's Will along with Ace's. Whitebeard even explicitly tells Teach that Teach isn't the one Roger was waiting for, then cuts to an image of Luffy:

(chapter 576)

You can sever Gol D. Roger's bloodline, but not the flames of their Wills. What he says in Japanese is

炎が消える事はね - flame isn't/won't be extinguished

It's worth noting that the kanji for Vegapunk's Mother Flame (chapter 1116) is

消えない炎 - undying flame

消えない is the negative form of the verb 消える, which means to disappear/vanish, but also to go out (of a fire or light), to fade (of a feeling), to be lost or die out. So the Mother Flame is "undying" in the sense that it will not disappear, but also in the sense that it will not fade from memory or be lost to the world

The phrasing is different, but both the name of the Mother Flame and what Whitebeard said use the same words and mean the same thing.

Likewise, Roger's and Ace's Wills are undying, they will not disappear or fade away.

Luffy and Sabo will carry the flames that continue spreading change (hellfire, to the ones in power) to the world.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Ace, Shanks, and Robin reacting to their female S/O saying “I love you” for the first time (Scenerios)

@sacredwarrior88

So I had a lot of fun writing the first one I went and wrote the second one but with a different setting and different ideas on how one would confess their love and made it in to scenarios. I hope you enjoy Headcanon

🔥Ace🔥

Word Count: 263

The first time she confessed left Ace speechless, he had been sipping his drink after such a hot day of training and taking the cool drink she offered him. His best friend and crush for years he watched as took a seat next to him whipped the sweat off her brow and panted.

“You still get hot even with your Devil Fruit?” she questioned a bit amused glancing away from him. There was something on her mind, he knew her enough to know this, and she usually had better eye contact with her.

“I do get cold too,” he finally answered, “I just have to learn to regulate my body temperature,” she was playing with her hair and not looking at him she was nervous and that made him a bit anxious too. Normally she would have joked and teased him but right now, “Hey-“

Before he could say anything she turned to him, “ACE,” she almost shouted his name,  “I LOVE YOU,” she blinked surprised at her actions before standing up. Ready to run but Ace caught her arm stopping her.

“You…you love me?” he questioned his mind was rushing at the unbelievable sense of rush he was feeling. Her cheeks were red, and she was avoiding eye contact with him he frowned trying to figure everything out. Did she really love him, despite knowing his past, knowing who his father was?

“I love you too,” he blurted out his own feelings on the line. Wrapping his arms around her shoulder and pushing her close.  She only smiled before pushing him into a kiss.

🍶Shanks🍶

Word Count: 294

She had been avoiding them all day, whenever he headed her way, she would run in a different direction. It left him a bit confused and the lighthearted man a bit frustrated as he tried to remember what happened the night before that left her so scared of him.

The red-haired man ignored the aching in his heart while she shrugged it off, whenever he asked his men what happened. They would only chuckle a bit and tell him something good happened. But he had a hard time remembering what happened.

He would see her whisper to his crew before his crew men would chuckle, when they made eye contact with him they would act like they were doing something else.

Shanks tried not to let it bother him, secrets in the crew were normal. But was hurting was the woman he loved seemed to be holding on to a bigger secret that everyone knew about but him. He sighed annoyed but continued his day till late at night when his crew invited him to a drinking party.

He found it unusual when he entered the bar and it was empty except for her. She stood at the end of the bar with two drinks in hand. But he relaxed a bit when she smiled at him and handed him a drink.

“There is something I want to tell you,” she whispered, she spoke of last night and how he got drunk and confessed his love to her, “I love you too,” she finally admitted leaving Shanks speechless as his crew slowly rolled in cheering for them. He smiled wrapping his arms around the woman he loved and cheered as well holding the sake cup up before kissing the side of her temple.

🪻Robin🪻

Word Count:262

Robin had been in a relationship with the beautiful woman for a while. While Robin herself wasn’t expressive, she did love sitting with her lover in silence while they read their books or watching the Straw hats shenanigans. But expressing emotions of deep seeded love or evening saying the word as foreign for Robin.

When her lover first expressed that she had a crush on Robin it left Robin confused but, in the end, accepted, feeling the same thing.  When her lover planned beautiful romantic dates for them it left her feeling strange, but she could only smile and chuckle as they spoke of their adventures. Gifts or praises left Robin feeling pleasant as she would always smile and accept spending her next day shopping for her lover as well.

But what she didn’t expect was her lover to confess her love to her one day. She sat in her chair blinking a bit confused, she had no idea how to react. She could feel her heart fluttering in her chest from…excitement?  She watched a nervous twist on the woman’s face as she fidgeted in the seat next to Robin.

Robin blinked a bit before a smile came on her face and she hugged her lover’s shoulders pushing her closer. She wasn’t sure if she could ever feel this way, a sense of peace and belonging but knowing that the woman in her arms loved her the way Robin loved her she couldn’t help but feel at ease.

“I love you too,” she finally answered placing a soft kiss on the woman’s forehead.

[very-gay-poet]

I don't know if this is my broken sense of humour or me making the nerdest joke ever but today in English we had to write a short story inspired by that one story where the women killed her husband with a leg of lamb and we had to choose a object to be of importence later in the story

and my fucking smart ass chose Chekhov's gun.

I chose a fucking gun because of a stupid literary rule.

I made a LITERAL CHEKHOVS GUN.

DESCRIBING THE CHARACTER AS A HUNTER AND THUS GUN COLLECTER AND HAD HER SHOOT HER CHEATING GIRLFRIEND.

I WAS FUCKING CACKELING IN MY HEAD PLANNING IT.

[fire-bugged]

🎶it would be so awesome…it would be so cool…🎶 if you could write headcannons with sniper and scout and a reader that likes to collect rocks, feathers and animal bones? I’m big into that (creature energy strikes again), whenever I go on walks I always find something new, and then treat bones with hydrogen peroxide to clean them and turn them white again when I get home. Totally cool if you’re not cool with it, but thank you a bunch if you do consider it! (Also if possible, a male reader would be awesome, but I’m totally ok with gn)

Scout and Sniper with a Boyfriend Who Collects Rocks, Feathers, and Bones

Scout

- He doesn’t really get it at first. I mean, why would you want a bunch of rocks? You can find those anywhere. The feathers he kinda understands, but he gets a little squeamish about the bones. That’s a dead thing, he ain’t touching that.

- But regardless, he supports his boyfriend and his weird hobbies.

- Then when you start showing him more of your collection, he does start to respect it a lot more. He takes a closer look at all the crystals and stones, large shed feathers, and cleaned bones, and he starts to see just how beautiful each of your pieces. As he listens to you tell him the stories behind some of your finds, he starts to admire it rather than question it.

- Starts keeping an eye out for any neat rocks and feathers he could give you. Still won’t touch any bones though.

Sniper

- Just like you, he has his own collections of rocks, feathers, and bones. The moment he found out about your collecting hobby, he became incredibly eager to show you some of his own finds.

- He especially loves making necklaces from animal teeth, and will likely gift you a necklace made from the teeth he collects from his hunts.

- Plus, he loves seeing his boyfriend wearing something he made for him. He likes making you happy, but he also likes that you have something on you that very clearly shows that you’re “his”.

- Also sometimes gives you things he finds out in the wild, especially if it’s something he knows you’re going to be particularly fond of. He absolutely adores seeing the look on your handsome face when he gives you a feather from your favorite bird or a pristine skull.

[firefly464]

Scott (you are here!) | Pearl | Martyn | Cleo | Scar | Grian

Word Count: 1,001

Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Scott Major | Smajor1995 & Pearl | PearlescentMoon, GeminiTay & Scott Major | Smajor1995

Characters: Scott Major | Smajor1995, Pearl | PearlescentMoon, GeminiTay (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: Character Study, POV Second Person, guys i adore writing character studies in second person, its so much fun, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Temporary Character Death, Self-Sacrifice, Scott Smajor and his relationship with sacrificing himself for his friends over and over again

Series: Part 1 of Life after Life (again and again and again

Summary:

The first time that you give your life for your friend, it’s as easy as breathing. There’s no thought behind it. No second guesses. Only the knowledge that you refuse to let Pearl die.

~~~

Or, an exploration of each time Scott gives his life for one of his friends

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62088148

Or just read it under the cut :D

~~~

The first time that you give your life for your friend, it’s as easy as breathing. There’s no thought behind it. No second guesses. Only the knowledge that you refuse to let Pearl die.

There’s only the sickening thud of an axe embedding itself into your side. Only the agonizing pain as it was ripped out. Only the smattering of red covering Pearl's hoodie.

She yells at you after. Tells you that you were an idiot, that you should have let her take the fall. She has the lives to spare, you don’t.

You shrug it off with a laugh, reminding her that she would have done the same.

…

You hope she’s never given the chance.

~~~

The second time you give her your life, it’s by your own hand.

It’s not nearly as spontaneous this time. That doesn’t change much. Despite the anger radiating from her, despite the fact that your fingers are still covered in frostbite scars, despite the blood that soaks her hoodie, it isn’t much of a choice.

Maybe it’s selfish. You don’t think you care. You want her to remember. You want your friend back.

Is that so bad?

She screams as the explosion tears through you. You can’t tell if it’s from shock or pain.

You aren’t around long enough to find out.

She finds you after. You’re not sure how. You decide not to ask.

She screams at you until her voice gives out. She tells you how stupid you are, that you had no right killing yourself like that. Tells you that you should have talked to her, that you could have figured something out. She tells you that you owe her for everything you put her through.

You don’t apologize.

~~~

You lose count in limited life. You watch as your blood spills out into the water around you, feel your bones snap as you hit the ground, hear the thud of an axe into your gut.

Over and over and over again.

It’s a transaction. Time exchanged for loyalty.

It’s better like this. No one yells at you when you return. Instead, they grab your hands and thank you. Thank you for giving them just a few more minutes.

You smile at them. You’re not sure if they would do the same for you. You find it hard to bring yourself to care.

~~~

Gem is staring at you. Her sword looks heavy in her hands. She’s having trouble lifting it.

You lift her sword and place it against your throat, not caring about the way the blade bites into your hand.

She stares at the blood dripping into the grass. Her eyes are brimming with tears.

You try to reassure her. Tell her that it’s just like before, when you and Impulse had given your lives to her without a second thought.

She tells you that it’s different this time. Impulse is already gone. You’re all that she has left.

It doesn’t matter. You’re dead either way. At least this way your death can help her.

Besides, once she wins she can come yell at you all she wants. You make sure she knows where to go. You don’t want to make her search like Pearl did.

She sobs, promising that she’ll find you, that she’ll make you regret leaving her alone.

You tell her that you’ll be waiting for her.

You try to smile as she slits your throat. You’re glad she didn’t stab you. You don’t want your blood to stain her overalls.

…

She doesn’t come find you.

The next time you see her, it’s during mcc. She gives you a smile. There’s nothing in it beyond surface level politeness. Nothing to indicate that she remembers.

It’s so much worse than getting yelled at.

Pearl tells you later. She says that Scar won.

You do your best to swallow the bitter taste that crawls up your throat.

~~~

The final time you give your life for your friends, it’s as easy as breathing.

You pretend to turn the decision over in your mind, considering each pro and con, but it’s nothing more than theatrics. You would do this in a heartbeat even if you didn’t owe her.

You can tell that she knows this to be true.

Neither of you point it out.

You can feel your muscles seizing as the pufferfish toxin seeps into your system. Your knees buckle underneath you. Water seeps into your clothes. Impulse looks away.

You have to force your breathing to remain calm. Panic will only spread the toxins faster.

You wonder if that would make it easier. If a faster death would be more bearable.

Your heart stops before you can think too hard about it.

When you wake up, you find Pearl staring down at you. Her eye is gold. The grin stretched across her face is slightly less manic. There’s no new stains on her jacket.

Good. You never really enjoyed the sight of your own blood.

You brace yourself for the incoming lecture. It never comes. She just reaches down and pulls you up without a word. The group keeps moving.

…

It isn’t until later— when the bots have vanished and you’re given a brief moment of peace— that she comes looking.

She finds you sitting on the tower, looking out over the vast forest. She could push you off, if she wanted to. You don’t know if you would stop her.

“Thanks,” she says, “for earlier, I mean. I appreciate it.”

You shrug. You had the lives to spare, she’s your ally, your friend. You’d give your life to her over and over again if she asked.

You’re not sure if she would do the same for you.

You try not to think about the gaping hole hiding below the grass, about your friend lying through her teeth, saying that she had no clue that there was an ambush waiting for you.

It doesn’t matter, you decide. You’d do it for her either way. You’d do it for any of them.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Real Talk: Ace Didn't Need to Ask For Help, It's On Garp

i always hate when i see comments about how ace was an idiot or ace should have just asked garp for help because, no? like dawg wtf do you mean?

the one thing we have been told repeatedly across the manga and anime is that ace could have lived his entire life being perfect and he still would have ended up on that podium

he could have become a marine, a police officer, a teacher, a chef and all of that would have been reduced to nothing the moment his parentage was discovered

yes, ace became a pirate of his own volition, but sengoku never mentioned his piracy

he never mentioned all the criminal activity ace did as the captain of the spade pirates or even later as the second division leader of the whitebeard pirates

you know what sengoku did bring up though the moment he got on that damn podium? ace's parentage

he mentions nothing that gained ace his bounty to begin with when he gets that den den mushi in his hand. why?

because it doesn't matter that ace is a pirate. what matters is that they are eradicating the last gol d roger's bloodline

bear in mind that they were killing pregnant women and young children who could have even had the slightest possibility of being roger's lover or kin

akainu deadass says that he doesn't care if every other pirate at marineford escapes as long as ace and luffy died and he would ensure their deaths personally. and for what? not their piracy. none of their crimes. not even for ensuring that the truth that certain countries and lands that were actually saved by pirates instead of the marines never got out

but because their fathers were gol d roger and monkey d dragon respectively

solely because of that, he deemed neither of them deserved to live

and as far as garp goes - i love garp as much as the next person but garp has never done anything for ace to trust him enough to ask for help even if he felt he deserved to ask

garp's negligent parenting coupled with the abusive words ace grew up hearing led ace to believe he didn't even deserve to be born. when he even asks garp if his being born was a good thing, garp can't even tell him 'yes'. he just says 'time will tell'. my brother in the blue seas, that is an elementary schooler questioning his right to exist

ace is defeated by blackbeard in episode 325 (chapters 434-441), luffy hears about his execution being set in episode 416 (chapter 522) and then finally ace is killed in episode 483 (chapter 574). that is 158 episodes and 140 chapters total and in that time what ace receives from garp are conversations that boil down to

"you did this to yourself"

"i just wanted you to become a fine marine"

"i don't have sympathy for criminals but i do have sympathy for family"

and garp actively preventing those who wish to save ace from reaching him. yes after akainu strikes ace, garp does react viscerally with instinct to protect his grandson, but that's too little too damn late at that point

garp having his moral dilemmas mean nothing when, however long ace spent in impel down, he isn't trying to help him

garp having his 'wishing things had been different' thoughts mean nothing when garp is preventing people from saving his grandson

there's a reason garp lets dadan beat and berate him when they reunite in windmill village and it's because he knows she's right

over the course of 20 years, garp has consistently chosen work over ace and luffy. as much as i love dadan and co, bandits are not a good choice to have raise your grandkids and then be the surprised pikachu meme when neither of them wish to become marines

garp's inability to see past the system he disdains yet clings onto actively shoots him in the foot

prevents him from seeing that ace is right when he says he never could have become a marine

luffy could have never become a marine. i do hear arguments saying that luffy might have had a fair chance considering garp is biologically his grandfather but i say that's truly up in the air considering how, even with that knowledge, akainu still wants to put luffy on a poster

but that's all to say, asking why ace never asked garp for help is ridiculous

the fuck would ace look like asking the man who has done nothing but

unintentionally fostered ace's resentment towards luffy in their early childhood

told ace it was his own fault he landed where he did

falcon punched marco halfway across marineford

for help?

and that's not even mentioning the fact that up until that point, ace didn't believe he deserved to live. he didn't think he had the right to exist. the only thing that kept him going up until that point was hoping he'd find an answer that justified his being born and his love for luffy and sabo. ace tells luffy in his dying breaths if it weren't for the two of them, he would have gave up on living a long time ago

yes, garp loves ace and luffy

he loves them both dearly but he is also incapable of putting them before work, before his ideals of justice. these two truths can coexist at the same time. garp's stubborn to a fault and his moral dilemma resulted in both inaction and the prevention of ace's escape

so to say that marineford would have gone differently if ace had asked is seriously undermining the character work. because in reality, it's up in the air on whether or not that would have done anything. ace asking garp for help could have gone either way and that's the beauty of the gray area regarding garp's actions during the summit war

and yes, i can get why it's frustrating that ace turned around to fight akainu when he could have just left and got it back in a blood a different time

but aside from ace having a temper about specific topics, we do get an answer as to why he couldn't bring himself to runaway when we finally are able to dive into his past with luffy and sabo:

he doesn't want to run away from any situation because ace is deathly afraid of losing something if running away ends up being the bad call

and in that moment, luffy was behind him

even if akainu hadn't talked down whitebeard, ace would have inevitably turned back around because he wouldn't have been able to shake his fear of losing something or someone he cared about

as long as there is something precious for him to potentially lose, ace will never run

he was doomed from the start

his being the son of gol d roger doomed him from the start

and that's what makes ace so tragic

[wetdeadroses]

Found: Hat

surely, the hat would blow away if you left it here. there was no way it was abandoned, either. every little piece of it appeared to be lovingly cared for: shiny red beads and a pair of opposing faces atop the brim, which was neatly stitched and, aside from a loose thread or two, unfrayed. the leather strap might have seen better days, but it only went to show how often the owner wore it. in short, this hat’s wearer must be sorely missing it now. you nodded to yourself with determination. you’ll just have to do a little sleuthing. it can’t be that hard, right? or, a love story told through ace's lost hat.

tags: portgas d. ace x civilian!f!reader, wingman!marco, alcohol use, lots of steamy kissing at the end, portgas d. ace is so smooth, suggestive undertones. please respect this content warning!

wc: 5.8k

read on AO3, if you prefer

seated in the sand, ace basked in the sunshine alongside his closest friends and crewmates. he didn’t often get the chance to take in the sights and just relax on an island, and he knew he would have to leave soon, so every moment counted. he was grateful for these rare moments where there wasn’t a “next”; there was just now.

“i haven’t seen the sea from this side of the land in ages,” thatch said. “forgot how hot it can get, too.” 

ace soaked up the heat that the sun shared with him as if it were his energy source. he laid back, slipping his hat off to sense its rays on his eyelids, the warmth seeping through his skin. “how many other people out there do you think are doing this same thing?” 

“no idea.”

ace pondered the thought a bit longer. how many were enjoying the same beautiful day as he? were they also smiling at the sun? something about it made him feel connected to the world in a way he hadn’t noticed before. 

“we should go grab a bite to eat before too long,” marco said as he stood up. “i’ll bet the rest of the crew is almost done stocking up the ship.”

ace drank in the beach view once more before joining his friends on the walk into town. he had been walking for what had only felt like a moment when he noticed his head and shoulders felt particularly exposed. ace’s heart nearly stopped in his chest as he grasped at the air above his hair. 

“ace?” thatch called out to him, noting ace’s quizzical expression.

“my hat’s gone.”

***

the sand was a warm welcome beneath your feet. it was a joy to be beside the sea today, and something in the air beyond the salty aroma felt especially radiant. 

you had been out running errands today when you suddenly found a break in your schedule, which brought you to the beach. it wasn’t all too often you were on this side of town, so you were making the best of this chance. the sun kissed and nipped at your cheeks, and you regretted not having prepared for this little detour. you needed to find some shade soon.

towards the end of your walk, you stumbled upon a peculiar orange hat. there was no owner to be seen, at least not in the immediate vicinity. you scanned a bit further away, shielding your eyes from the sun with one hand. you spotted a group that had been sitting here moments ago and made to approach them, but a gust of wind blurred your vision. by the time you could focus back on the spot you’d seen them, they were gone.

you stared down at the hat, considering. surely, it would blow away if you left it here. there was no way this hat was abandoned, either. every little piece of it appeared to be lovingly cared for: shiny red beads atop the brim, which was neatly stitched and, aside from a loose thread or two, was unfrayed. the leather strap might have seen better days, but it only went to show how often the owner wore it. in short, this hat’s wearer must be sorely missing it now.

you nod to yourself with determination. you’ll just have to do a little sleuthing. it can’t be that hard, right?

how wrong you were. you’d just spent the last hour walking up and down the streets, scanning for anything that would remind you of the group of people you’d seen or for any poor souls who looked like they might be looking for this hat. it was so bright it stood out as a beacon, so you had initially hoped it would do all the work for you. 

eventually, you resigned yourself to checking with nearby local businesses that might have seen the owner of the orange hat. after a few statements of “sorry, i haven’t seen that hat before,” you finally caught a clue, although it wasn’t necessarily what you were expecting. 

at the local diner that you frequented, you approached the owner with the hat in your hands. the owner appeared slightly disheveled, but you supposed it could have been a busy day. 

“i’m looking for the owner of this hat. have you seen someone wearing it before?”

his jaw clenched as he eyed it. “i hope i never see the guy again, kid.” 

your eyes widened. “why’s that?”

the restaurant owner let out a long, exasperated breath as he lifted the bat he kept behind the counter for safety. “let’s just say he owes me. you find him; you let him know he has a tab to close, alright?”

you nodded, although you weren’t so sure you would be any help. the way it's looking right now, you might be stuck with this hat for a while. 

***

“you just have to retrace your steps. chances are, someone found it, and you’ll cross paths somehow.”

ace bit back a cringe as he reflected on his day and his unfortunate first stop. sure, thatch was probably right about retracing his steps and all that, but did that mean he’d have to do this? 

he squared his shoulders as he stood outside the entrance to the diner; he’d been a… well, “patron” would only be the right word if he’d actually paid for his meal. hopefully, he had the right amount of cash to get some information and avoid a confrontation.

ace stepped through the doors, a bell ringing to signal his entrance. within seconds, the shop owner was climbing over the counter, baseball bat in hand. 

“i never thought you’d have the nerve to show your lousy face here again.”

ace raised his hands, a meager effort at peace. “i have money!”

“you should have said that first, kid.” the man lowered the bat.

ace made his way over to the counter, reaching for his wallet. “you wouldn’t have happened to see a bright orange hat lying around, would you?”

“matter of fact, i have. one of my regulars stopped in with it, looking for you.” the shop owner dug through a pile of receipts in search of ace’s bill. 

“do you know where they might be right now?” ace took a slinky, unassuming step backward, one eye on the door.

“haven’t the faintest. but you’ll know her when you see her. about yay-high,” he motioned with a hand, “awful sweet, cute as a button.” the shop owner smoothed out the ticket and read the price, relieved to have this over with. 

by the time he looked up, the bell on the front door had rung, and ace was nowhere to be found.

***

your wandering continued fruitlessly. you may as well have been a door-to-door salesperson with how methodical your approach had become - and with the number of times you’ve heard the word “no.”

as you snaked through town, you decided it must be time to take a break. along the outskirts of the market street, you elected to sit on a nearby bench and collect your thoughts. 

you carefully strung the hat around your neck, its soft material resting on your back. it wasn’t necessarily on display in its new position, but it was better than holding it in your hands like you had all this time. 

it occurred to you while you sat that the mysterious hat owner was possibly a traveler. you sighed, hoping that he hadn’t left his hat behind for you to tend to forever. you began to regret taking on such a responsibility. this was like finding a needle in a haystack. 

“hey!” a tiny voice shouted from behind you. “i know that hat!”

your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you spun around. a little girl, possibly no older than 8, holding a plushie, was running up to you, pointing at the hat on your back.

“you do?” you asked. “can you tell me about who it belongs to?”

the girl ran around, standing before you. she nodded eagerly, smiling with all her teeth. “of course i can! he’s my hero!”

grinning back at her, you leaned in, full of curiosity. “he is?”

“uhhuh! just this morning my evil neighbor stole my fishie plushie and pushed me on the ground.” she motioned her neighbor’s action with extra special dramatic effect, plushie flopping around. “but a big, strong guy came over and saved my fishie! and he helped fix my knee, too!” she pointed at her knee, adorned with a carefully placed bandage, likely covering a scrape.

you can’t help but feel a little warm and fuzzy inside at the thought of this faceless man as the savior to this girl. a diner and dasher, and a hero to children? you had more questions than answers at this point, and craved the answers with renewed passion.

“how nice of him to help you and your fishie. i’m glad you’re both ok!” the girl held her fishie closer with a warm embrace. “can you tell me anything else about the man who helped you? he seems to have misplaced his hat, and i’ve been trying to find him so i can give it back.”

“his name’s ace!” 

“ace, huh?” you tested it on your lips. you barely knew anything about him, yet it seemed to fit him well. 

“mmhmm! and he has a tattoo on his arm, too. i’ll draw it for you!” the girl knelt on the dirt road and drew a series of letters on the ground, with one crossed out - ASCE. “i didn’t spell it wrong. that’s exactly what it says.”

“i wonder what it means!”

“didn’t ask,” the girl said. “how are you gonna find ace?”

it was certainly helpful to know ace’s name and some sort of defining characteristic about him, but that didn’t quite fix the issue at hand. “i’m not sure. if you were me, what would you do?”

the child furrowed her brow as she considered. “there’s always lots of people at the market! i can help you look, since i know him and all.”

“that sounds like a plan!” as you stood, you introduced yourself to the girl. “what’s your name?”

“it’s mimi!”

“it’s nice to meet you, mimi. let’s go find ace!”

you and mimi take a stroll through the market, scanning for any sign of ace. after about 30 minutes mimi began to slow down, her little legs clearly tired from all the events of her day. you decide to adjust your plan, buying a couple of snacks from a food stand and taking a seat toward the center of the market, right in the middle of the throngs of people.

“if we stay in one place, he might find us,” you told mimi as she gratefully chowed on the food you had given her. 

you placed ace’s hat in clear view in hopes that if he did pass by, he would notice it. before long, someone did approach you, asking about the hat.

“i know someone who is missing that hat terribly,” the stranger said. he was a slightly older fellow, with fine blonde hair and glasses.

the man wasn’t threatening by any means, as a matter of fact he seemed a kind person; but you found yourself feeling a bit protective of ace’s property. you held it just a little more closely before glancing at mimi, who you noticed had fallen asleep with her head resting on your arm, clutching her dearest fishie.

“you know who owns this hat?” you asked with every ounce of practiced kindness, doing your best to smooth out any apprehension from your voice. 

“ace is a close friend,” the man said, “and crewmate.” 

“do you know where i can find him?” you asked. “or perhaps you can return it to him?” it stung a little to think you might never meet ace, but it was more important that his hat was returned. your curiosity, and, you admitted to yourself in the back of your mind, your enchantment, would have to take the back seat.

the man watched you carefully. you couldn’t explain why, but it felt a lot like he could hear your thoughts. he smiled softly as he spoke. “i can’t say where he is at the current moment, but i’ve got a feeling ace wouldn’t be able to accept his hat without the chance to thank the person who took care of it.” 

you couldn’t help the sense of relief that overtook you. it was growing more and more difficult to ignore the rhythm in your chest at the prospect of meeting ace. in some strange way, you already knew him. 

“i should probably walk mimi home,” you started, “but i can meet ace here at the market later.”

the man stuck one hand in his pocket, his smile growing bigger. “i can do you one better,” he said as he pulled out a piece of paper. “i’ve got his vivre card right here.” he ripped off a piece and held it out to you. “you know how these work?”

you beamed at the small scrap, watching it shift in the palm of your hand. “i do.”

“good,” the man said, turning away as he spoke. “tell him marco gave it to you-yoi.”

“thank you, marco!”

“don’t mention it.” marco waved a hand before disappearing into the crowd as swiftly as he had appeared.

***

ace wiped a hand down his face as he stood at the port, conflicted. the sun was beginning to set, and he’d had bad luck finding his hat. beyond the incredibly vague description he’d gotten of you at the restaurant, nobody he’d spoken to seemed to have seen you or the hat around.

in a last ditch effort, he decided to ask a few people at the port if they’d seen it. one person, a man pushing a cart full of food, had a scrap of insight for him. ace hoped it would be what he needed.

“that hat rings a bell,” the man said. “i saw a woman wearing it on her back at the market earlier today. she was with a little girl. they asked me about you. said i never saw you before.”

“can you tell me anything else about them? what did they look like? do you know where they are now?” ace could barely contain his excitement. he had limited time before he was supposed to report back, and time was of the essence. ace wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be on the island - they could leave tonight, even.

the man gave a few details about your and mimi’s appearances, and said the little girl must live in town. other than that, he had no idea. but it was more than enough for ace. the little girl sounded a lot like the one he’d met earlier, which gave him a rough idea of where to look. he quickly thanked the man and headed towards the center of the town. you had to be there somewhere.

moments later, ace passed by marco, who was headed back toward the port. he wore his most unassuming grin as ace approached.

“still haven’t found her, yoi?” marco asked. “she’s been looking for you.”

ace sputtered to a stop, his eyes wide. “you found my hat?”

marco leaned toward ace, patting a hand on his shoulder. “make sure to thank her real nicely, alright?” 

marco walked away before ace could decipher his words. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he shouted at marco’s back.

“i think we’re gonna stick around here a bit longer,” marco called out. “the people here are one-of-a-kind.”

ace stood there, bewildered. what a load of help that was. obviously, marco was unwilling to divulge any spare details, so ace continued on his way, looking for his hat. for you.

***

the sun was drawing close to that broken line where the sky met the city, accented by the freshly lit torches of the main road. a warm glow painted the features of the streets, and you and your search partner cast tall shadows along the colorfully painted buildings.

mimi was, to put it lightly, disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see ace again. she had quite little energy left to protest with; however, as she was all but leaning on you to keep walking home. 

once she successfully directed the two of you to her house – less talking, more vague hand motions – mimi grasped your hand firmly, a confident look in her eyes behind tired lids.

“you have to make sure you tell ace that i helped,” mimi said. “that i did it because he was so nice to me.”

you pat mimi’s head. she was an excellent companion to have at your side today. if not for her, you may have given up hope long before marco crossed your path. 

“i promise. i’ll tell him all about everything you did to make sure he gets his hat back.” you smiled warmly. “i’m sure ace will be grateful.”

with that, mimi went home. once her front door had closed, and you were sure she was safe, you turned away, pulling ace’s vivre card out of your pocket. it would lead you the rest of the way. your pulse quickened with anticipation as you carefully watched the small scrap’s pull, following it with your steps.

***

ace stood where the once-lively market was. now, it was nothing but empty stands, and a few merchants loading their stock onto carts. the day had quickly met its end. how could he be sure you were still here? 

he recalled that you were with the girl he met earlier, mimi. that clue could lead to some answers. it was far too late for mimi to still be up and about, but he could at least check out the place he met her. just in case.

the street corner where he’d found mimi was closer to the market than he remembered. of course, nobody was there. ace cursed marco for his vagueness. couldn’t he have at least told him where he should look? a general vicinity would have made this so much easier. 

at this point, ace had to bet there wasn’t a single road in this entire town that he hadn’t scoured. he’d gone in circles countless times, and he had no more ideas to move forward. his feet started moving regardless. he had to keep trying, but couldn’t help but feel like this was a fruitless effort. ace didn’t even look up as he walked. 

but that was only until he heard a conversation in the distance - no, that wasn’t a conversation. he could only isolate one voice. 

“he has to be close by now. i better not have gone all this way for nothing,” the voice said.

ace turned around, his gaze lifting to search for its source. there you were, an oasis in a desert, and he’d been walking for miles, having nearly forgotten how long he’d gone without water. you were walking, yes, but your eyes were fixed on the palm of your hand, an admirable focus creasing your brow; his most prized possession resting safely around your neck. he’d found you.

the greeting ace had been rehearsing escaped him. he nearly choked on his breath when he tried to get your attention. “excuse me,” he called out, a hoarseness to his voice. he cleared his throat, fighting his heartbeat for composure. “i believe that hat belongs to me.”

your eyes widened as you turned towards him. your lips parted, but you couldn’t make out words. so you stood there, frozen, for only a second, but an hour’s worth of thoughts rushed through your head. you found it hard to believe this could be ace standing before you. he had begun to seem a fictional being since you found the hat on your shoulders.

as your body caught up to your mind, your hand jumped to your collar, tracing the strap of the hat you’d grown fond of by this point. you weren’t quite ready to relinquish it, you had to admit.

“are you ace?” you asked with a hint of hesitation.

ace often felt he had a conflicted relationship with his name. but to hear it from your lips was as if he had found out he had been saying it wrong this whole time; like it was different from the title he’d grown accustomed to. it was new, somehow, and he was drawn into that sensation. 

he hated how much he understood what marco had told him now. he’d have to thank him later.

“that’s me.” he’d never been so sure of it.

you took in the presence of the man standing before you, at last. he was sunshine and a warm summer breeze with a broad, strong stance. you saw the tattoo on his arm, as mimi described. he looked every part the person you were told he was, but there was so much more there. you wanted to gaze at him until his sunshine blinded you. perhaps then you would know him as deeply as you wished in this moment.

“i hope you understand,” you started, “i’ve worked rather hard to find you, and i have some questions i’d like to ask, if that's alright.”

ace laughed. it sent a tickle up your spine. “i understand. can i buy you a drink?”

“i’d love a drink.” before you could think, you carefully removed ace’s hat. 

you wondered if ace could read the hesitation in your features as he spoke. “please, hold onto it a bit longer. you’re certainly better at looking after it than i am, after all.”

truthfully, ace wanted to commit to memory the sight of you with his hat. he couldn’t think of a better sight. 

you smiled shyly at him as you let the hat back down. “let’s get that drink, then.”

***

the saloon was about as lively as you’d expected for a random summer night - plenty noisy, but not necessarily jam-packed, either. the energy was lively, joyous, and there were countless smiles warming up the space. 

you and ace were about halfway through your first drink, the awkwardness of introductions past, and you had calmed down enough to carry on a conversation without an underlying sense of giddiness. you wanted to believe your excitement had been from the day's exhaustion, but ace was a handsome man with a smile that left you breathless. it wasn’t easy to ignore. 

“i believe you had some questions for me,” ace said, leaning toward you across the table you shared.

“i should hope you have answers,” you said, sipping your drink as you pondered what to ask about first. you smiled broadly, a knowing look on your face. “the owner of my favorite diner was quite disgruntled when i asked him about you.”

ace shrunk back into his seat, pursing his lips in feigned embarrassment. “i’m not hearing a question.”

you huffed a laugh. “what happened?”

“i have this sort of… tradition,” ace said, picking up his glass. “it’s silly, really. wherever i travel, i have to eat somewhere without paying.” he took a sip from his drink before continuing. “it’s something my brothers and i did when we were kids. i haven’t seen them since we were little, so it's a small way of keeping them here.”

you shook your head, your grin plastered to your face. “of course, you have a really good reason for it!”

“what do you mean?” 

“it wasn’t adding up,” you explained. “of all the little things i learned about you today, that was the one that didn’t fit. so it can only make sense that you had a sentimental reason for it.”

ace’s face bloomed a faint pink as you spoke. he sat back up, resting his chin on one hand, full of curiosity. “what else did you learn about me?”

“you’re full of surprises. a hero to young children, insisting on directly thanking a stranger who found your hat.” you removed his hat, then placed it on ace’s head, leaning close to reach him. it completed the picture of him you had built up: a wonderful mystery with a bright orange hat. 

ace’s cheeks flushed to a deeper shade of crimson as you took him in. he hadn’t expected you. he thought he was used to being seen and often identified, being a known whitebeard pirate. but nobody had looked at him like you did right now. he didn’t think he would be seen.

“mimi really wanted to find you as a way of thanking you for your help,” you said. “she made sure i didn’t give up.”

ace smiled, grateful for the renewed conversation. “i heard you were with a kid. i hoped it was her.”

“i only met her today. i’ll have to let her know i found you.” 

“we can tell her together tomorrow,” ace said thoughtlessly. you smiled as you watched him squirm a little, realizing his words. “if you want to, that is.”

“i’d love to.”

the drinks began to flow as effortlessly as your conversation with ace. you could feel the heat of your buzz beneath your skin, the warmth drawing you closer to him.

a group of men entered the saloon, filling the space with their laughter and chatter. you identified one of them as marco, the one who gave you a piece of ace’s vivre card.

“there they are!” marco called out as he saw you and ace. he approached the table, crossing his arms as he took you in. “the woman of the hour, yoi. i can’t tell you how happy i am that you found ace’s hat.”

“hello, marco,” you greeted. “thank you again, for your help.”

ace’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched your exchange. he knew marco had been up to no good when he saw him earlier. “what did you do?” 

“relax, ace. i just pointed her in the right direction,” marco explained coyly. “isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

you nodded your confirmation, a bit bashful at marco’s flirtatiousness. ace was speechless.

“i’ll let you two get back to chatting. it was great to see you again.” marco flashed a wink at you as he walked away, rejoining his friends.

ace’s mouth hung open as marco left. he turned back to you, his expression inscrutable.

“the two of you must be quite close,” you said, observing ace as you held the paper from earlier between two fingers, “for him to have your vivre card.”

ace continued to say nothing, his eyes darting between you and marco across the room. there appeared to be a lot of math he was doing to understand what happened.

although watching ace turn into a blushing mess was indeed entertaining, you continued, in effort to regain the peace from before. you held out the piece of ace’s vivre card. “i don’t imagine you intended for marco to hand this out to strangers.”

ace smiled at you softly. “you should keep it.” he wrapped his hand around your open one, closing your fingers over the paper.

your pulse quickened from the sudden contact. he was tantalizingly warm. 

“why, are you planning on losing your hat again? or maybe it’ll be something else next time?” you toyed with him, hoping to catch him on the tail end of his fluster.

ace leaned in close, bracing himself with his other arm. “if that’s what it takes to see you again.”

it was your turn to squirm under ace’s gaze. it was both a relief and a torment to know you weren’t imagining the chemistry you were feeling. it still could have been the booze, but you wouldn’t brush it off so easily. 

with a sudden rush of confidence, you closed the space between the two of you, nearly standing out of your seat. ace could feel your breath on his skin as you spoke.

“i think,” you said, “it should take less than that.” your nose brushed against his before you sat back in your seat, only a whisper of touch as you let go of his hand. your heart was pounding now, but you had made your statement. 

there was a flicker of something in the shine of his gaze. something a bit more starved than you’d anticipated. it was gone with a blink, but the hint of it sent a wave of need through you. 

“it’s a bit loud in here, wouldn’t you agree?” ace straightened, watching you carefully as he posed the question.

you could have floated out of your chair, but thankfully, you remained earthbound. “it is,” you crooned, “hardly the noise level one might crave for good conversation.”

ace chuckled as he stood, holding one hand out to you. “let’s get some air.”

you took ace’s hand, ignoring the hollers from marco and the others as you followed him outside. 

the air outside had cooled, not so much that it was cold, but in the way that summer nights fade from hot to, well, less hot, and the soft breeze wrapped around you, a welcome embrace. your steps were unhurried as you followed ace’s lead through the streets.

before you could register what was happening, ace suddenly pulled you to one side, guiding you to a dimly lit alley. you let out a small “eep!” at the movement as ace spun you around towards him.

“i never thought something as silly as losing my hat would lead me to someone like you,” ace said, his voice soft. 

you swallowed your nerves as you straightened. “you’re lucky i was here, you know,” you said, tilting your head at him. “not many people would have walked in circles for hours to return a lost hat to a random stranger.”

“you’re so right,” ace chuckled. “i could tell when i saw you. your determination is something to be feared.”

you smiled up at him, staring into his eyes. “is it?”

“absolutely. i was so taken aback when i met you that i forgot what i wanted to say,” he held your gaze. “you surprised me.”

your expression flooded with mischief as you listened. you reached for ace’s hat, taking it off his head and placing it on your own. you’d avoided putting it on your head all day, not wanting to cross that boundary when you didn’t know who it belonged to. now, you took that small leap with a challenge in your eye.

“then let’s try again, shall we? i want to know what you were going to say.”

ace froze briefly, fighting the heat rushing to his face, and perhaps other places. seeing you in his hat turned him upside down. you were a beautiful thing to behold. but he wouldn’t back down from the challenge you presented him with. he swiftly closed the space between you, causing you to step back in surprise, but the surprise ran deeper when your back met a cold wall. ace braced one arm over your head as he leaned down, completely enclosing you with his frame. 

“you’ve got a lotta nerve, taking someone’s hat, you know,” he said, his voice turning gravelly.

and you truly could have been floating when ace pressed his lips to yours in question, just a soft brush. you tried so hard not to smile into him, but then he pulled back, uncertain.

you grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back to you. his eyes widened when you said, “then come take it from me.” 

you crashed your lips into him, an answer to his question. the two of you moved in perfect harmony, you sliding your hands behind his neck, ace’s meeting your waist. whatever tension the two of you had been skirting around all night snapped. 

ace’s grip tightened on your waist, causing you to gasp, the faintest of moans escaping your throat. ace took that chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips, which you greedily accepted, giving him full access. your hands began to roam his body, and you traced cords of muscle tightly woven beneath soft skin, appreciative of what your touch found.

after a fleeting eternity of shared kisses, ace broke his lips from yours, but they didn’t go far as he lowered his head, diligently dragging his lips downward. he nipped and sucked on the delicate surface of your neck until he felt your hands twitch during their exploration. he paused when he read your smallest of tells, and then sucked that sensitive place with more force, biting down ever so slightly to deepen the sensation. you couldn’t hold back the moan that followed when he released your skin, relieving the slight tinge of pain with a soft brush of his tongue.

“ace,” you whispered breathlessly as you pulled him away, returning his gaze to you. you kissed him again, softly and intentionally, no more question; no more challenge. 

you both paused, chests heaving, noses nuzzling each other. the intimacy of sharing breath sharpened the high of your exchange, and you basked in it. 

“can i-,” ace said between breaths, “can i walk you home?”

you grinned as ace backed away slightly, just enough to see your face. what a sight it was, to see your swollen lips and dilated pupils. to know that you were the one making those sweet, desperate little sounds just moments ago. 

“you can walk me home,” you said.

ace grabbed both of your hands, pulling you off the wall and back to the street. he spun you around again before releasing you, but he held firm to one hand as you guided him to your home.

the two of you exchanged excited chatter as you walked through the streets you had both walked alone in search of the other. it was difficult to believe the night would end. hours had passed by as you had looked for ace, and they drew on, but now that you’d found him, the passage of time was a harsh whirlwind. 

as ace walked you to your front door, you faced him again. there would be no more need to hold onto his hat any longer, so you picked it up once again. 

ace’s hands shot up to yours, ceasing your movement. “tomorrow. i’ll come get it from you, and we’ll see mimi.”

“i’d like that,” you said. ace guided your hands back down to your sides, but he didn’t let go. 

“i’ll be the one to find you this time. you’ve done enough searching.” he leaned in once again, kissing you, far more chastely than earlier, but with every ounce of passion. 

you pulled away first, releasing him. you brushed one hand down his cheek. “i’ll see you tomorrow, ace.”

he nuzzled into your hand, entranced by your touch. “tomorrow.”

you made your way inside, parting ways for the day. as you settled down inside, your heartbeats returning to a resting pace, you couldn’t help but agree with what ace had said earlier. 

you never thought something as silly as a lost hat could bring you to him.

thank you for reading!!! i worked on this over the course of several months as the idea came to me and i'm so happy to be sharing this now.

in case you are a playlist person, here is the spotify playlist that kept me inspired while i wrote. no need to listen, it isn't intended to read, i just wanted to share the vibes :-)

-tor

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: You sought Ace out for warmth but his wandering hands and needy pleads end with a quickie against the railing of the Moby Dick. Pairing: Ace x AFABreader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, Hints of temperature play, P in V sex, Ace is needy, creampie, Ace is a little shit, his freckles light up while fucking you. • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

The night air was so sharp and brittle that it seemed to bite at your skin with every breath. The Moby Dick creaked and groaned as the chill of the ocean worked its way through every seam. No matter how tightly you bundled yourself in your blankets, the cold persisted, creeping into your bones like an uninvited guest. Sleep was distant and taunting you. 

With a shiver that rattled your teeth, you finally had enough and decided to look for the next best source of warmth. Ace was on lookout duty, a job he never seemed to mind especially since his fiery warmth makes him the perfect candidate for tasks on frigid nights like this one. 

You made your way out to the deck, your hands wrapped tightly around yourself. The cold hit you full force as you emerged and you hissed softly, your steps faltering against the icy deck. Ace stood at the ship’s railing, his back to you, hat tipped low as he leaned over the edge. His shoulders were relaxed, though his eyes scanned the ocean for any and all threats. 

“Ace,” you called out, your voice carrying over the whisper of the waves. He turned, dark eyes glinting with the faintest hint of surprise before softening at the sight of your shivering form.

“Can’t sleep?” he guessed, tone warm despite the cold. He straightened and beckoned you closer, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let me guess-- too cold?”

You nodded, your chattering teeth making a verbal response unnecessary. Ace chuckled softly, his laughter like the crackle of firewood. Without even thinking, he opened his arms, motioning you forward. 

“C’mere,” he said simply. You obliged immediately, walking right into his open arms and pressing yourself flush against his chest. The heat of him immediately radiated throughout your body, as though you had stepped right into the heart of a flame. You exhaled shakily, the relief so sudden it felt like your body might melt into his. 

Ace turned toward the railing, positioning you between him and the edge. His arms wrapped around you in a loose hold, his hands instinctively tracing warm patterns wherever his fingertips met your body. The heat seeped into you, warming your frozen fingers and thawing the ache in your chest. You sighed in contentment, leaning your head back to rest against him. 

The wind tore through the air, stinging your face and pricking at any exposed skin with merciless precision. Despite Ace’s warmth, the gusts crept into the gaps, chilling you to the bone all over again. You burrowed closer into his chest, chasing his heat. His hands, though initially resting innocently enough on your sides, had begun a wandering exploration. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was the most alone time you had gotten all week, or perhaps he was just an easy man to rile up, but his touches had grown to suggest a deeper hunger simmering beneath the surface. His fingers lingered longer than necessary, tightening slightly when they reached the plush of your ass, and his breath, warm against your temple, came heavier, hotter. 

When you muttered through shivering lips, “I’m so cold,” Ace leaned in, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “I can find a way to keep you warm,” in a tone rough and full of implication. His fingers curled against your sides, pressing you tighter against him. 

“Ace,” you giggled, trying to get him to maintain his composure. “You’ve got a job to do.”

“And I’m doing it,” he quipped, his voice dripping with mischief as his hands slid to rest on the curve of your hips. “I’m just doing a little something called multitasking.”

Your reply died on your tongue when he tilted his head and pressed his lips to your neck. The kiss was searing against the chill of your skin, and it sent shivers through you for an entirely different reason. His mouth moved, planting slow, deliberate kisses along the line of your throat, each one lingering just long enough to make you yearn for the heat that came with each press of his lips.

Ace’s hands were never idle. One snaked up your torso, sliding beneath your layers. Burning fingertips grazed your stomach, then trailed higher, cupping your breast and pulling a gasp from you. The heat from his palm seeped through you, chasing away the cold, and when his thumb brushed over your cold-hardened nipple, the mewl that spilled from your lips only spurred him on. 

“Still cold?” he teased, voice thick with need as he nipped at your neck. The heat emanating from him only seemed to intensify, flashes of hot radiating from his hands and mouth like he was stoking  a flame specifically for you. 

“Ace,” you whined, trying to keep your voice steady, though it came out much shakier than intended. “We’re on the deck.”

“And no one’s around,” he countered, a grin audible in his words as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you firmly against his growing erection. “Just you, me, and the stars.”

He continued his sensual assault on your neck, mouth alternating between kisses and teasing bites. The sharp contrast between his heat and the icy wind was dizzying, leaving your head spinning and your body responding to every flicker of warmth he offered. 

Ace’s hands roamed lower, teasing as they skated over the waistband of your pants, then back up to squeeze your hips. The cool night air licked at your exposed skin, but every inch of you seemed to burn hotter. He adjusted his stance, grinding his hips into you with a neediness that made your breath hitch. 

“Please,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he buried his face into the curve of your neck. The desperation in his tone was unguarded, raw. “Can I? Please? I promise I’ll be quick.”

The railing pressed into your stomach and you turned your head to glance at him, his freckled face bathed in moonlight, dark eyes heavy-lidded with longing. You shakily sighed, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his touch. 

He nipped at the shell of your ear before dragging his tongue along the curve of your neck. His hand slipped lower, tugging at your pants slowly. Your pants and underwear pooled around your knees and the sensation of his heated palms gripping your thighs, erasing any other thoughts. 

His hands spread you open, the rough pads of his fingers exploring every inch of you as though committing it to memory. You gasped as his fingers pressed against your slick core, impatiently circling your clit and thrusting a finger or two inside to make sure you’re at least somewhat prepared to take the needy man that’s making you gasp and tremble. 

You heard the unmistakable zrrt of his zipper sliding down, the sound cutting through sharp and foreboding. He was too close, and yet not close enough. His body was a furnace, burning hotter with every passing second, making you feel like you were on the verge of being consumed by flame. 

He leaned back to get a better view of your core as he aligned himself with you, the tip of him rubbing against your slick entrance to lubricate himself. And with a sigh, he pushed forward, entering you with one slow, deliberate thrust. You gasped at the sensation, his hot, throbbing cock filling you in ways that made your body burn just as hot as his. It was almost too much - the overwhelming heat of his body, the fire in his touch, and the harsh, desperate way he was moving. His hips snapped and met yours, pulling a yelp from you as you shifted against the railing. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible as his hips began to move, each thrust harder than the last. The rhythm he set was relentless, each thrust faster and more desperate than the last. One of his hands gripped your hips, bouncing you on his cock while the other wrapped around your torso, his hand landing on your breast and kneading the soft flesh while simultaneously making sure you don’t fall over the railing. The warmth from his body intensified, his bare chest searing against your clothed skin, his palms rouch and seething with his powers, and the contrast with the biting cold outside made you feel like you were in the eye of a storm. 

The molten lava of his touch moved beneath your skin, the heat utterly intoxicating. Each thrust had you whimpering and whining as the head of his cock bullied your insides over and over again. 

You tossed your head back and looked up at the man inside of you, eyes now fixated on the faint glow around his face. Ace leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, slowing down his movements to taste and feel you. He rolled his hips slower, deeper into you while his tongue explored your mouth, and when he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips momentarily before it snapped. 

You panted, tongue barely lolling out of your mouth as you looked closer at the glow of his face, the source of it being his freckles. The dots across his face transformed before your eyes into what looked like tiny embers scattered across his cheeks. It was like watching a wildfire take over, the heat from his body so intense that it turned him into something more than human, something untouchable, and yet here he was with you– inside you– pushing you to the brink of madness.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way it coiled with raw power, and you knew that he was close. His breaths came faster, deeper, the heat of his fire licking at your skin, stroking the flames of desire that blazed between you two. His face twisted with the effort, his lips parted as he groaned your name, and you could see that final spark of control slip from his grasp. 

With one last harsh thrust, he came undone. His cock pulsed deep inside you, his body stiffening as he released hot, sticky ropes of his essence inside of you. His freckled skin glowed with a fierce intensity as the embers across his face flared brightly, a last beautiful burst of fire before he collapsed against you, his breath ragged and unsteady.

But you weren’t done yet. You had your own needs. You rocked your hips against his pulsing cock, desperate for more even as he softened inside of you and whimpered with the bursts of overstimulation you were providing him. Ace was far too exhausted to move but unwilling to leave you fulfilled, so he let his hands wander, snaking between your legs to give attention to that sensitive bundle of nerves as he let you rock yourself against his half-hard cock. 

Even as his heat dissipated, the heat building in your core seemed to grow. Your body trembled as the pleasure grew and grew, hands gripping the railing until your knuckles turned white. Ace’s fingers circled your clit with a maddening precision, your body wracked with the tremors of your rising orgasm. 

“Come on, just a little more, you got this,” he urged, voice laced with exhaustion. And with that, you shattered. It was like the stars exploded inside of you, each breath a gasp as your body locked around him. 

“Ace!” you cried, your nails digging into the railing, your body quaking with the force of the pleasure. He didn’t stop, not for a second, pushing you further into the bliss of it all. And as the last wave of pleasure hit you, your body sagged against the railing, breathless and spent as your shaky arms held yourself up.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your breathing as you calmed down from the intensity. Ace’s fingers gently traced patterns across your skin as the warmth in his body finally began to subside. 

You were the one to break the comfortable silence, asking- no, whining- “How am I supposed to get back to bed with… all this… down my thighs?”

Ace hummed in thought, and then you felt him bend down and suddenly, Ace lifted your pants, hiking them up to contain the mess. You blinked, baffled by his sudden practicality. “Really?!” you hissed, smacking his arm as you stood, the action sending a faint throb through your body. 

“Is it not a good idea?” he chuckled, amused by your reaction as he tucked himself back to his pants. 

You shot him a glare as you attempted to properly stand so you could scurry back to your room to change your clothes, only for your legs to give out beneath you, and Ace was quick to catch you. He chuckled again, holding you securely in his arms as you groaned in defeat. 

“I think I’m gonna stay here for a minute,” you muttered, resigned. 

Ace grinned at you, holding you a little tighter as the two of you lingered until the cold air finally started to settle in, but you knew he wouldn’t let you freeze tonight, and you sure as hell felt that silent promise as his powers flared up once again to keep you warm in his arms.

[loganwritesprobably]

First Meetings with.. (One Piece Edition)

Part two with Zoro, Robin and Luffy Part three with Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy Part four with Benn, Shanks and Smoker

A tumblr exclusive collection of little reader insert drabbles - these won't be going on my AO3, these are just for the feral people of this wonderful hellscape

Requests are open for x reader things! I will write basically ANY kind of reader - male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, trans, disabled, black, white, latino, asian, neurodivergent, etc

I'll probably do more over time but here's three to start with - Ace, Law and Sanji. Readers are all gender neutral, but for Sanji reader is fem presenting (so he would be nice)

"Well hey there gorgeous." A voice said behind you, startling you to the point of hitting your hand against the counter in front of you. You were just minding your business, attempting to buy some food for the week, when some random guy had appeared behind you. You had half a mind to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, when the shopkeeper's eyes widened, and whispered his name. Fire Fist Ace. The pirate. "Who do you think you are?" You asked, turning to face him with a scowl. You wouldn't attack him outright, but you were not happy with the look on his face (now that you could see it) and wouldn't let it go. "Your future boyfriend, hopefully." Ace replied, and you scoffed. You turned back to the shopkeeper and bought your groceries, before making to leave the store. Ace followed behind you closely, making no secret of the fact that he was there.

"Are you lost?" You snarked, rolling your eyes at Ace. He was persistent, you'd give him that. "Oh no, just hoping you'll look at me like that again. You're perfect." "You're disgusting." You grumbled, although you'd certainly never been called perfect before, and in another circumstance you wouldn't be mad about it. "Hey, now that's harsh." Ace replied, but he was laughing as he said it, clearly unphased by your displeasure being directed at him. You took off walking again, not walking toward your place since you didn't exactly want to lead him straight to it.

Ace, to his credit, continued to follow you and eventually began to just talk. He seemed to be able to talk forever, uncaring whether or not you were listening - though you were. He was a pirate, pretty high bounty, almost a warlord, he had a little brother who he was stupid proud of, and an even bigger family waiting for him back on his main ship. "While this is all very nice, are you going to leave me be any time soon?" You asked eventually, back on the main street of the town once again. "Are you going to tell me your name?" That was all? You told him your name, utterly exasperate it. "Well, gorgeous, you'll be seeing more of me soon." With that, he took off in the opposite direction of your home, with a swagger in his step, happy he'd gotten what he wanted. You kind of hoped that you would be seeing him again soon - you liked him, reluctantly.

You weren't even hurt that badly. The guys were gone, and you were managing to stumble home just fine. You had a first aid kit in the kitchen that would be able to patch you up, and then you could go to the doctor when you had the time and had gotten some sleep. It was too late to go see her now.

As you stumbled down the dark street, clutching walls for stability, a man began to approach you. "Fuck off! Not in the mood." You snarled, clutching the broken shard of glass you'd gotten in the fight, a strip of your shirt wrapped around it to protect your hand. "You're injured." The guy stated flatly, and then you'd hit a stalemate. "Duh?" You said, still brandishing the shard in your hand. "I can fix it. I'm a doctor. Don't have to drop the glass, but I'd prefer if you didn't stab me." The supposed doctor drawled. He seemed.. familiar. Something about him just sparked recognition in the back of your mind, and that put you a little on edge. "You're familiar - why?" You questioned, shuffling backward to get a little further away from him while you waited on his answer. "I'm Trafalgar Law. My bounty poster is on the wall you're clutching." The pirate doctor pointed out, nodding toward it. Well, that made sense. Surgeon of death you'd heard him called - so at least that meant he was a doctor right? "Alright. But one wrong move and you'll be needing your own medical care." You threatened, and Law just half nodded. He knelt down in front of you to look at your wound, then pulled some bandages from a pocket in his coat. He wrapped your leg, doing so in complete silence and without hesitation. When he was done, he stood again and grunted as he nodded.

"Should be fine now. It'll hurt to walk still, but less risk of infection." He summarised, stepping around you to continue in the direction he'd been going. "Wait! Why did you do that?" You asked, spinning quickly on your good leg. "You're cute." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. He lifted his hand, said a word you didn't hear, and then in a flash of blue light he was gone.

You'd bumped into him entirely by chance, and gotten talking. He was a nice guy, he was sweet if a little much when it came to women he saw. You didn't mind - you could see that his intentions were good, for the most part. He offered to pay for a drink for you, since you'd narrowly avoided colliding with him outside of a bar, and you'd accepted. He let you order what you wanted, and he paid, not even blinking. It was second nature to him. He was kind, and offered endless compliments that you withstood with a smile on your face - you weren't quite used to such a bombardment of affection.

He disappeared after an hour or so, but returned the next day. You'd tried to ask where he went, but he danced around the question and asked you on an official date. You'd had a nice enough time the day before, and so you agreed.

He took you to a restaurant, it was classier than you usually allowed yourself to go to with a modest amount of money, but it didn't seem to be any object for him. He told you that he wouldn't compromise on good food, and allowed you to order anything you'd like, with no concerns about how many beri it would set him back. It felt nice not to worry about it for once. You ordered starters, then mains, with drinks flowing easily between you, and then a dessert to share to end the experience. You'd been there for hours, but with the money that you'd spent, no waiter could argue.

The conversation between you was easy and light, he was enraptured by your every word, he couldn't help it. He looked at you as if you'd hung the very stars in the sky. "All I've done is talk. I know almost nothing about you." You said to him, and Sanji laughed awkwardly. "I suppose so. But I'm afraid there's not much to tell." He said, and just as you'd been about to argue, a woman with orange hair came bursting into the restaurant calling his name. You looked at him with wide eyes and stood quickly. "No! She's not-" Sanji said hurriedly. "How much of my money was spent on this date?" Nami demanded, fire in her eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realise you were-" You attempted to say to the woman, hoping she wouldn't direct her frightening anger at you. "Oh you're gorgeous. Well played cook, didn't think you had it in you." She praised, and then bewildered confusion fell over you. "Oh Nami, your praise is a balm on my heart." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms, raising an expectant eyebrow as you stared at Sanji, waiting for an explanation. "I'm a pirate. She's our navigator, and.. treasurer I suppose." He explained, and you sighed. "So you're not staying." "I can't." Sanji agreed, with a sad smile and nod. "But we're not leaving for another few days. So have fun while you can." Nami said, giving you a wink and Sanji a firm punch before turning to leave the restaurant.

Fun. You could do that.

[riza-jes]

Luffy’s Parental figure — ACE!

Who raised Luffy and co-parented him with Sabo.

He's the guy who actually did the teenage boom and baby Luffy. Who was really the only one to be an adult to his brother for seven years. Who raised this little bugger and was there for him through hard training and after hard illnesses as well.

Ace who's an explosive head in his own right, but still cool-headed in the most precise moments of danger.

Who knows how to make chicken soup and other kinds of soups from nutritious foods because Luffy couldn't chew and swallow like normal when he was sick.

Who in the field knows how to pick out what's edible, what's poison and what's medicine, because you learn that quickly in the jungle.

Who really with bare hands will be able to build a place for a night's lodging, to make food or water and to make a trap for safety or for fresh game.

He's a man who smiles at his little bro when he's in sight and who really shows a lot of affection and attitude through touch, because Luffy always needed physical affirmation of love and gosh that kid was very touchy-feely baby.

His life centered around his little brother, who needed to be raised, preserved, and made strong.

Teenage angst and mood swings had passed him by(so nothing unusual), because Ace was already an emotional wreck, but having Luffy around was actually a good catalyzer.

Also life amidst the trash and scum had taught him very well what to avoid, i.e. roughhousing, rapes, murders, overdose deaths, the horrors that slums can hold, especially the nooks and crannies where Ace and Sabo used to sneak around.

According to one particular scene that Luffy had somehow stumbled upon (and he had witnessed the brutality and the corpses privately, but he had never seen the bodies of dead children and girls before )

Luffy had hysteria so intense that he passed out.

After that accident Ace and Sabo decided only to walk in the more lighted and more open area if necessity would lead them to the slums.

In general, Ace isn't used to violence and direct threats, although in some cases Ace remains painfully innocent and naive, especially when it comes to himself. ( unless it involves Roger, the Pirate King )

Because of the fact that Thatch almost cut to pieces a lost in life and specifically in that bar amigo who ran into Portgas and began, in Thatch's opinion, to spread his hands.

And if Ace at first reacted friendly enough on approaching of the future corpse by thinking that maybe it was one of his brothers or inhabitants of the protected area, but when the man had crossed the line with a couple of words, he was carefully folded in unconsciousness by the bar wall.

Honestly, I just want more and more of Ace's side as the man who raised a hyperactive ball of joy. And specifically the aspect of home life, which most often of course manifested itself during meals.

For example, some dishes that for example made pirates complain due to scarcity or flavor (e.g. tomato soup/onion soup, any other specific fruit/vegetable) or the beverage (compote/juice/tea of unfamiliar pickings, etc.) of specific fruits or vegetables to be consumed based on shipboard life.

So imagine the surprise of the Marco when most of the pirates booed about the nastiness of the same grated drink with greens (or search for what foods should be consumed when living on the sea and when living in the jungle) and Ace was the most calm and even nostalgic.

Because he'd made a similar thing for his little brother himself.

Part 1

Part 2