#the ectoplasm saga | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

camels-pen · 2 months ago

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You Are Not Immune to Saltwater

Summary:

One moment, Vlad was sipping tea at his desk. The next, he was surrounded by circus performers with a sword at his throat.

He blamed Daniel.

HEY GUYS GUESS WHO'S POSTING THEIR BANG FIC TODAY!!! i'll be linking my lovely partners', Bib & Skittles (@bibliophilea & @skittlespoxum), music and illustrations here soon!! i had so much fun writing pathetic Vlad and my partners' works are amazing so i think you all should read and look and listen to our stuff and enjoy! this is a completely unbiased opinion :]

also a note: this takes place during the East Blue Saga, the first arc of One Piece.

Ao3 Link | Skittles' Illustrations | Bib's Music

—

Vlad was in his office.

Vlad was in his office a moment ago.

Vlad was in his office a moment ago and then he blinked. And now he wasn’t.

“Captain Buggy!” The man—one who looked like a minimum wage theatre student working at a theme park and getting far too into their role—held a sword to his throat. “There’s an intruder on deck!”

“Cheese and crackers, Daniel, if you drugged my tea or what have you…” he mumbled under his breath.

“Intruder?!” came a muffled yell. A man in an oddly colourful outfit and clown makeup, complete with a round red nose, stomped through a door leading into what Vlad can only assume is a cabin. “You mean a stowaway!”

“No, an intruder.” The man kept his sword steady even as he looked back at his ‘captain’. “He just appeared on deck out of thin air.”

“A devil fruit user, then?” Maybe Daniel did drug his tea. He’d have to get back at him somehow. Hmm. Maybe adjusting all the security in his home to be extra sensitive to ectoplasm would be appropriate.

“Possibly.” The sword shifted closer to Vlad’s neck. “Should I kill him and be done with it?”

“Now, now,”—Vlad pressed the tip of his finger to the side of the sword—“Figments of my drug induced hallucination or not, I’d rather not have you threaten my life like this, thank you.” He pushed against the sword, expecting it to yield easily.

It did not.

“Ah, this is one of those hallucinations. The ones where everything goes wrong no matter what would happen in reality.” Vlad sighed. “I do rather dislike those ones.”

“Why’s he talking gibberish, Cabaji?”

Vlad clapped his hands. “Oh good, you can’t understand me. I can insult your outfits all I like.”

“We can understand you just fine, intruder,” the ��Cabaji’ fellow spat. “What are you, some kind of noble? A king’s advisor?”

“As flattered as I am that you’d think me adjacent to royalty, no. I’m a simple, hardworking businessman.”

Cabaji narrowed his eyes. “So a merchant? Food vendor? Store owner?”

“No—well, I suppose merchant would be closest.”

“How does a supposed merchant end up all the way out here? Without a single ship in sight?” The cold steel dragged along Vlad’s finger as it touched his throat. “Answer carefully.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “I’m fairly certain my nephew is pulling a rather cruel prank on me. I should be out of your hair in a few hours. A day, at most.” Though it would be rather annoying if he was drugged out of his mind for the entire day. He had an important product pitch meeting to attend tomorrow morning.

“So your nephew is the devil fruit user?” ‘Captain Buggy’ said, glaring. “I don’t buy it.”

“Considering I don’t really care what you ‘buy’ or not, that is completely useless information to me.” He sighed. Rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What am I doing chatting with hallucinations?”

“We’re real!” the supposed ‘captain’ yelled. “And answer the damn question!”

“I don’t know what kind of drug ‘devil fruit’ is slang for, but my stupid straight-laced nephew likely doesn’t touch the stuff.” Whether he would slip it into Vlad’s drink was another question entirely. He’d left ‘weed’ brownies in Vlad’s office once; Vlad didn’t know what levels that boy would stoop to for revenge.

“Well, it is East Blue. Don’t get many devil fruit users around here,” said a man in a fur vest. “If his nephew hated him and became a user, then it’s possible he really doesn’t know shit.” The large white lion next to him nodded its head.

“Right, well, now that that’s sorted, I’ll just be on my way—”

“Oh no you’re not!” Captain Buggy laughed. “If you value your life, you’ll hand over all your beri! And maybe if you play nice, we’ll even see you home. Of course, you’ll have to fork over all your valuables when we get there.”

“Oh joy.”

The empty threats on his life were nothing new, neither were thieves after his money. He was impressed by the creativity behind the scenario; he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever imagine such a… fantastical ship of clown pirates and a possibly sentient lion in his right mind. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had hallucinations this out of the box either. Whatever Daniel slipped in his drink must have been something quite strong.

What to do, what to do…

Well. He was in his office last he remembered. The room was empty save himself. And he always locked the door before getting to work to avoid distractions.

Vlad shrugged. He couldn’t see any real consequences, as long as he kept the damage minimal.

With that, he walked forward through Cabaji’s sword. Then the man himself, ignoring his startled breath and Buggy’s yelling about crazy stuck-up men. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be finding the closest thing to a bed around here and sleeping off my… whatever is happening to my body—”

A whip wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his side.

The man in the fur vest glared at him—were those animal ears on his head? “I don’t know how you got around Cabaji’s sword, but you’re not getting out of that.”

It wasn’t wrapped around his legs, he should still be fine. Intangibility spread out from his torso, and the whip fell to the ground. Vlad stepped over it as he continued to the nearest door. As much as he wanted to blast the man for wrinkling his suit, he would have to refrain to avoid damaging anything in his office.

A shadow appeared over Vlad’s head and he preemptively turned everything above his waist intangible. He watched, bored, as massive jaws swiftly went through him, meeting with an audible clack of teeth and a whine.

Vlad sighed, walking through the foul smelling maw. “Are you done?”

“Not yet!” Vlad felt something grab his ankles and looked down. The captain’s hands were holding onto them.

Just his hands.

“Can’t move now, can you?” Buggy laughed, his handless-arms crossed over each other.

He could, but it was always a hassle to turn just his ankles intangible. If he wasn’t careful, his shoes would go through the floor and he’d scare some poor soul in the break room below his office.

Well, nothing some good old fashioned ghostly strength couldn’t fix. Just one smooth tug and then—

Vlad paused. His ankles didn’t move.

He tugged again. And again. Each time he was met with resistance—real resistance. Almost as if another ghost was holding onto him.

“Well, this is rather troubling.” Vlad tapped his chin. “I don’t know any ghosts strong enough to restrain me. Maybe ghost hunters? No, no; none of them have any subtlety. Though Fright—”

Buggy gestured with his head. “Do it.”

Vlad furrowed his brow. “Do what?”

His vision went black.

—

Vlad groaned as he awoke, a throbbing pain at his temple. He couldn’t decide whether coffee would be better or worse, but it’d be different and the promise of it could entice him from his bed—

He tried to pull off the covers, only to find his arms restrained. With ropes. Real, actual, brown ropes. They smelled like his cat’s morning breath.

“Captain,”—Vlad looked up from where he’d been staring incredulously at the ropes, coming face-to-face with the lion—“he’s awake.”

“Good. Mohji, call off Richie.”

There was a quick whistle and the lion turned and walked away, padding around the man in the fur vest. It was the same colour as the lion’s fur. So were the ears.

The man—Mohji, he assumed—rested his arm on the lion’s mane without hesitation, like Miranda with her disgusting, slobbering mastiff on bring your pet to work day. Wonderful. He’d probably assure everyone his little angel wouldn’t even think of chewing on the furniture. And suddenly he’s blubbering in Vlad’s office giving apologies and asking for exceptions and that this has never happened before sir, I swear!

Buggy crouched in front of Vlad. Right. Clown pirates. “Now that you’re all nice and comfy.” He brandished a knife from somewhere. “Your wallet just had some stupid looking cards, so you’re gonna tell us where your business is and—”

“What is it with you hallucinations and your fixation on blades?” Vlad grumbled.

The blade pressed closer. Vlad raised an eyebrow, but stayed still. He wanted to see where the clown was going with this.

The tip of Buggy’s knife pricked his lower eyelid.

“I’ve been pretty generous, pretty lenient you know? But even the great Buggy has limits to his kindness.”

Vlad would argue Buggy wouldn’t know kindness if it shot him in the face.

The blade pressed deeper. “Tell me what I want to know, now.”

Well, Vlad hoped he was aiming at his desk. He was due for a new one anyway.

“Employees can always be paid off, employees can always be paid off—” Vlad mumbled to himself.

“Huh? What was that?” Buggy put his free hand to his ear. “That doesn’t sound like—GYAHH!”

Vlad shot Buggy with his eye blasts. He phased out of his restraints while Buggy was screaming and clutching his face. It would be a shame if the skin melted off—Vlad always hated the stench of burning flesh—but small sacrifices and all that.

He ran through the rest of the thugs waiting around and headed for the door. Loathe as he was to leave his office, this was getting ridiculous and he was getting thirsty—

Suddenly, freezing liquid was dumped over him and he felt all the strength in his body fading. He tripped over his own feet and tumbled face first into the wood.

“W-What in the world…?”

“Good thinking with the bucket, Cabaji,” said Mohji.

There was an answering grunt. “Wasn’t me. Captain had a hunch.”

“And what a hunch it was!” Buggy said, laughing. Vlad slowly lifted his head to see Buggy smirking down at him. There was hardly a scratch on him besides a ring of red skin around his eyes.

What?

“Y-You should be… your face should be…”

Buggy laughed again. “What, that wimpy thing? The worst part was how bright the light was!”

“It was essentially a laser beam, how could you possibly—?!” Vlad was cutoff as Buggy stomped on the back of his head, digging his face into the woodgrain. He groaned and made to get up when he felt something sharp pressed against his nape.

“Now, I’ve heard enough of your prattling and you still haven’t answered two very simple questions,” Buggy said, voice quieter and deeper, a menacing undertone to it. “Who are you and how did you get on my ship?”

He should just ignore this ‘captain’—maybe grab the empty bucket and bang it against his head to get enough clarity to fly himself home too—but something about how the water weighed him down, how he found it a challenge just to lift his fingers, stopped him.

Surely by now, the illusory ‘Buggy’ fellow would know that Vlad was incapable of being restrained, much less threatened with non-ghost hunter gear. And yet the blade against his neck didn’t waver—in fact Buggy himself wasn’t even putting much weight on his foot. Vlad would only need give a little push to dislodge it, something even Daniel’s little friends would surely be capable of.

And yet he couldn’t do it.

There was something in the water, he thought. Maybe a muscle relaxant? Must have been something strong for him to be affected this quickly. Or perhaps a poison of some sort.

Buggy increased the pressure on his foot. Vlad started to struggle pulling in breath.

Ugh, Vlad was really hoping no one was right outside his office.

“My name is Vlad Masters,” he said, voice raspy. Buggy eased up and Vlad coughed. “I don’t know how I got here, but it was likely my nephew’s fault as I said earlier.”

“And as I said earlier, I don’t buy it.”

The pressure increased, harder than before.

“W-Wait, I can—”

“There’s nothing to prove. You’ve got devil fruit powers yourself, we all saw it.” That ‘devil fruit’ nonsense again. What in the world were they talking about?

“It’s true: I can’t prove it.” Well, he could fake it, but at this point these fools would probably skewer him even if he knew the truth. “But I’m clearly at your mercy, and I’m no fighter. How about I pay you for escorting me back to my home?”

“Uh huh, how stupid do you think I am? For all I know, you could be leading us to a Marine base!”

“You’re pirates; don’t you have maps?”

“I don’t know how fucking rich you are, but we don’t have maps for the entire fucking East Blue.” The prick at the back of Vlad’s neck disappeared. “But considering how you’re acting like you’ve never stepped foot outdoors, you’re probably some stuck up rich merchant like you said. Either that or you’re a pretty flashy actor.”

Flashy? “Er, thank you, I suppose.”

“We’ll take your offer.” Protests sprouted up, but Buggy shouted over them. “Shut up, you idiots! You chose to follow me, didn’t you? We’ll take this rich moron home and get some… fair compensation.” He said ‘fair compensation’ like they were dirty words. The protests died down—some of them even started laughing and eyeing Vlad like a piece of meat. How flattering.

If this was supposed to be some kind of subconscious guilt about cancelling the sensitivity training at the office this month, Vlad wasn’t listening.

“Excellent. You can untie me now.”

“Captain, let me watch him for the night.” Cabaji narrowed his eyes. “For my own peace of mind.”

“Yeah yeah, do what you want. I’m going to the galley. Hey, one of you buffoons put on some grub!” Buggy and the few others present filed out of the cabin, leaving Vlad prone in front of a man with two swords and a glare sharper than both of them.

“Oh joy, I’ve always wanted a sleepover.”

—

Vlad didn’t sleep a wink.

Cabaji took his self-assigned job very seriously and the thought of closing his eyes around this man sounded like something stupid enough that even Daniel wouldn’t attempt it.

Vlad sat himself atop a box pushed up against the side wall, keeping an eye on Cabaji from his peripheral. The man was behind him, leaning against the back wall. The white of his eyes had stayed visible the whole night so Vlad hadn’t let himself nod off.

Vlad startled as the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a big BANG.

“Rise and shine, breakfast’s on!” Mohji said, setting down his foot. Was it really necessary to kick the door open? “Hey, Cabaji, I’m talking to you. Quit the circus act and get up already! Also, merchant, what are you doing?”

“What?” Vlad looked down. His hand was raised, palm facing Mohji. He could feel the ectoplasm in his palm, but it thankfully wasn’t enough to start glowing. Vlad quickly tucked his arm behind his back. “Oh nothing, just a… greeting? Yes, it’s a particular greeting where I’m from.” He gave his best press smile to really sell it.

Mohji’s face scrunched up. “Ugh, don’t smile at me like that. It’s creepy.” He turned and leaned out of the doorway. “Oi Richie, I don’t wanna get stabbed so give him a morning call for me.”

There was a rumbling growl followed by the lion taking his owner’s place in front of the door. It took a comically large breath in and let out an earthshattering ROAR into the room.

Vlad tried to cover his ears, but it was like putting a kitchen sponge in the ocean. Absolutely useless.

There was movement in the corner of his eye and Vlad turned, getting a good look at Cabaji for the first time since yesterday. The man was hunched over a bit, rubbing his eyes. The half of his hair that wasn’t shaved with those ridiculous stripes hid his face.

“Richie,” he said, tone dangerously low yet somehow loud enough to be heard over the lion. “If you don’t shut up right this second, I’ll skin you alive.”

The lion immediately quieted, shaking and quickly backing away. What an oddly intelligent animal.

Cabaji looked up, adding, “Mohji, how many times have I told you never to make Richie wake me up?” The scowl on his face was slightly terrifying. Only slightly though; Vlad was far better at it. It was more impressive how he wasn’t as jumpy as Vlad was after a sleepless night.

He seemed sluggish and less tense than yesterday, actually, with the way he was pushing himself off the wall. There was something smudged on his face and hands. It was a slightly off-white colour—

Vlad froze.

He. painted. his eyelids.

“What is wrong with you?” Vlad said, without thinking.

Cabaji’s gaze turned on him. He smirked. “I said I was going to watch you. I didn’t say I was going to stay awake.”

“Not very bright of you.” Vlad should probably stop talking, but to hell with it. “And here I thought you were the cautious one.”

“I am the cautious one,” Cabaji said. He walked up to Vlad, his sheathed swords bumping against his hips. “Your type never looks back.”

Vlad felt his face heat up as Cabaji grabbed the back of his blazer and dragged him out of the room.

—

Breakfast was… disgusting. Even Jack had better table manners than these barbarians. And Jack had very little table manners to speak of.

He was deposited back into that same room, this time by Richie, but Vlad was starting to get tired of waiting for whatever hallucinogen he’d ingested to wear off.

Richie’s ear flicked as Vlad started to move towards the door. The lion’s eyes opened to slits and it lifted its head to growl at him. Not wanting to alert anyone else, he held up his hands and backed up to the wall furthest from the door. Richie huffed and settled back down. Within a few moments, its eyes were closed too.

Vlad tried over and over again; different plank, same result. He tried longer and shorter strides, using his tip toes, taking off his shoes, then his socks. Nothing worked. It was infuriating.

If a single step was enough to alert Richie, then what about opening the door? The knob and hinges wouldn’t be an issue since he could just pass through the whole thing instead of opening it. No, the problem wasn’t the door, it was the distance.

If only he could soundlessly make it to the door in the first place—

Oh.

Vlad floated a few inches off the ground. He made it to the door within moments. Richie didn’t move, snoring lightly.

Vlad would blame this on the lack of sleep.

He phased through the wall, turning invisible as he passed through the wood. He’d already given up at this point; if someone had come into his office, he’d just have to deal with it when he had his mental faculties returned to him.

The sunlight passed through him, its warmth missing him entirely just like the sea breeze. He slowly circled the ship from above, taking in the layout of the ship and noting the groups of pirates milling about. He paused by the crow’s nest, snatching a leftover spyglass for his own use.

Honestly, he was hoping this was one of those frivolous toys with the swirling colours in it rather than a real functioning spyglass. He always got a bit queasy looking at them so maybe he could make himself throw up whatever Daniel tricked him into taking. Not really something his employees would leave lying around, but one could hope.

Vlad put the spyglass up to his eye. It seemed like an ordinary one, but looks were deceiving. It could be the stupid toy he needed in real life and a few more moments would—

Was that another ship?

“Captain!” a distant voice yelled below. “Enemy ship spotted! It’s the Marines!”

Sure enough, painted on some of the sails was the word MARINE in big bold letters. The other sails had a blue symbol on it—Vlad’s best guess was a bird with a a wrench.

“Alright you blockheads, get ready for battle!” Buggy shouted. “And make sure to be flashy about it.” There was a collective “Yes, captain!” followed by stomping feet and banging doors, bringing out swords and guns and cannonballs to dump on deck. Others ran for the cannons lining the side of the ship.

Enemies of Buggy and called the ‘Marines’ of all things? Vlad breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, his subconscious was giving him a real break.

Vlad quickly landed at a good spot behind a group of barrels, right by the ship’s railing. Just as he was about to try and catch the attention of the marines, there was a startled roar and the lion burst out of the storage room Vlad so brilliantly escaped.

“Richie! It’s just Marines, you’re supposed to be guarding the creepy merchant!” Mohji shouted. Richie was shaking its head and using one paw to gesture at the room it ran out of.

On the Marine ship, a man with a white coat draped around his shoulders shouted over the din of people in eye-searing colours running around with guns. “Buggy the Clown, in accordance with Marine law, we are here to arrest you. Do not resist or we will show no mercy.”

Buggy laughed, loud and barely a few feet from Vlad’s hiding place. “You heard ‘em men! Show no mercy!” The crew roared as one and began their assault.

Gunshots and cannonfire. The whistle and shink of thrown knives hitting their targets. Cursing and grunting and yelling and, of all things, laughing. One of his employees might call it ‘brutal’, but Vlad called it a mess.

The Marines, in a far more organized and proper fashion, fired their own cannons in sync at the call of the man with the coat. Buggy’s ship rocked rather dramatically and sent a good chunk of the crew reaching for something to brace themselves. Then, moments later, everyone on the Marine ship swung over on ropes to take the fight to the pirates.

Vlad watched the man with the coat land aboard Buggy’s ship, cutting down those idiotic pirates left and right. Maybe that man was the captain of the ship? The way he was barking orders while fighting pointed to a yes. Vlad needed to make his way to him ASAP.

The ship swayed underneath him, still rocking from the cannonfire. He grabbed the bar of the railing in a death grip—who knew what kind of rusty nails or broken glass were littered about? He couldn’t afford to fall over. It was out of the question.

He started to pull himself up as the ship started to settle. Then a large wave of water splashed over the railing, soaking him completely and sapping his strength.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Vlad hissed, glaring at his visible hand and the ocean beyond it. Leaning his whole weight on the barrels, he tried to push himself up. His hand slipped and he landed ungracefully on the deck.

He couldn’t wait for his strength to come back; the sooner those Marines got a hold of him and the sooner he could sober up, the better. Plus, he didn’t want to chance that his hallucination wouldn’t make something up for the Marines to suddenly leave or get beaten by such a disorganized crew. Then he would be left to Buggy’s clutches for however long it took for him to become sober naturally!

Vlad scowled in disgust at the damp wood probably oozing tetanus. He slowly shifted to his elbows. “Crawling it is.”

He was lucky the only thing he had to worry about was unknown janitorial standards. His powers would take care of the rest.

—

Vlad spoke too soon.

As soon as he’d remembered the little detail about this not-real seawater turning off his very-real powers, he was already too far to turn around and dry off.

Guns were going off all around him—at first he’d ducked his head, but now he could only afford to flinch as he continued forward, the constant movement of feet and swords deterring him from pausing for even a second.

Thuds and thumps and slashes and cracks and the BOOM of cannon fire. There was no respite for his poor heart.

One elbow at a time, Vlad, just one elbow at a time.

The Marine captain was blessedly keeping himself to just one corner of the ship, but Vlad wasn’t sure if he’d make it to that corner in one piece.

The scrape of his blazer against the deck grated at him like the rough wood under his hands. He spent not a small sum on this suit and it was getting sullied all for the sake of some stupid teenage boredom. When Vlad saw Daniel again, he was going to—

A sword impaled itself into the deck, a barely an inch from Vlad’s arm.

A cold sweat broke out all over his body and he kept himself as still as he possibly could. He heard the smack of flesh on flesh directly above him followed by a loud thud. Then a series of stomps and the distinct sound of clothes dragging on wood.

He heard the tear in his suit before he’d even realized he’d jerked his arm free.

Vlad kept his gaze only on his goal, ignoring the jagged cut in his blazer and the not-so-distant splash that echoed over the rest of the battlefield.

He navigated around broken weapons, splintered holes, and still bodies, all while keeping down his breakfast. He nearly didn’t manage it when he realized the only way forward was through a blood splatter almost as big as Vlad himself.

He did make it, though the less said the better.

Finally, he’d made it to the mast, not far from the captain of the Marines, but not as close as he’d like either. He sat up against it, thankful his suit was black and hiding the dark stains that he could still, unfortunately, smell. The man who made a fool out of him all night was providing quite the distraction though.

Cabaji was smiling like a cat that caught the canary, engaged in a swordfight with one of the Marine soldiers. And he was riding a unicycle of all things. On a swaying ship. Not far off, he saw Buggy’s legs running around, and Buggy himself laughing somewhere behind Vlad.

That grating laugh spurred him on and before Vlad knew it, he was already at his goal.

“We’re pushing them back, don’t falter!” the Marine Captain yelled.

“Excuse me.” The captain looked down to where Vlad was tapping his shoe. He quickly dispatched the closest pirates before pointing his sword downward. “Ah, I see you’re quick to make assumptions, but I am no mere pirate—”

“Uh huh, you’re ‘one of the best’?” The captain glared at him. “Heard it a thousand times. How about you get up from where you’re scuttling around down there and prove it?”

“No no, there’s a misunderstanding here—you see, I’m a hostage, not a pirate.” He glanced a look back at the carnage around them. “Hence the… scuttling, as you put it.” He clasped his hands. “Please, I really do need some protection. I’m a simple” —ugh— “merchant, you see, and this band of pirates kidnapped me for my wealth!”

“That so? Well then, allow me to correct myself.” Vlad sighed, relieved. Of course, there was no reason to worry. A smart fellow like this would know the difference between an upstanding citizen and a group of horrendous criminals.

The captain reached down with his free hand. “Oh, thank you—”

He yanked Vlad up by his shirt collar. “You’re one of the worst.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Vlad rasped, clutching at the arm currently choking him out.

“You’re soaking wet, roaming freely above deck, and none of the pirates have done anything to stop you—in fact, they’re getting out of your way.”

What? That was preposterous. Vlad was just exceptionally observant and aware of his surroundings. Why would these pirates bother to avoid him at any point when they’ve made his life so miserable already?

Buggy caught his eye. He broke into a wide smile.

He rubbed his thumb against his index and middle fingers.

Vlad scowled. That stupid clown planned this. All for the sake of getting his money!

Why couldn’t that buffoon act like any other security detail he’d ever contracted and be just as incompetent and mediocre as he thought they’d be?!

“I know your type,” the captain hissed, cutting down another pirate without looking.

“M-My type?” Vlad laughed. Or at least he attempted. “I’m flattered, but I’ve already got someone—”

“You’re the type that throws away their pride, their dignity. Quivers and grovels at your enemies feet until they can’t help but believe you. Pity you. Hesitate. And just as they let their guard down,”—the grip around his neck got tighter; Vlad desperately scrabbled at it—“you stab them in the back. Gloating and mocking them before they take their last breaths in front of their—!”

Just as Vlad was starting to black out, the captain screamed and Vlad dropped to the ground. As he coughed up half a lung trying to catch his breath, he noticed a different captain’s legs in front of him.

“Aww,” Buggy said in mocking sympathy, “did your daddy get duped by a poor little pirate?” He laughed. “What’d he fucking expect? A thank you card?”

“He was a good man, but he was naive.” The Marine captain gripped a bloodied dagger lodged in his shoulder. “I won’t make the same mistake.

“Fire on me!”

What?

Cannons sounded to the left without a moment’s hesitation.

“You maniac, you’ll get yourself killed with us!” Vlad shouted.

The captain grinned, sweat running down his face. “If I can take down even one of you disgusting pirates, then my life is a small price to pay.”

The screech of metal on wood echoed in Vlad’s ears as he watched marines heave and shift their cannons to point at their own captain. Men rushed about and moments later there were several booms and Vlad was still damp, he couldn’t manage total intangibility much less—

“We’re running, you shady bastard!”

Something grabbed the back of his jacket and hoisted him up. And up and up and up.

Flying.

He was flying!

The wind on his wet clothes made him shiver.

He was flying?

“Hey, hold these.” A pair of boots—severed feet in boots—were thrust into his hands. “You drop them, I drop you. Got it?”

He nodded, a little dumbfounded and a lot relieved.

“A little fight is all it takes to shut you up?” Buggy laughed. “If I knew that I would’ve beat you up when you first got here.”

“I’m just impressed a simpleton like yourself managed to find a way to make yourself fly with your limited abilities.”

“Shut up! I could drop you in the ocean, you know!”

“I’m well aware, thank you.”

Buggy continued on with some inane drivel about respect for the strong, but Vlad tuned him out as he kept his attention on the mess below.

Seeing the deck from high above was nothing like before. The bodies alone were disturbing enough, but the spilled blood, the open flesh—the gore—it was almost too much for Vlad. Plotting murder was one thing, but seeing it first hand…

“Alright, I’m dropping you. Don’t bite your tongue.” Vlad jerked, desperately gripping Buggy’s arm. “Get a good hit in or whatever. Doesn’t matter as long as you distract him.”

“Are you insane? I’m not letting—” His hands held tight, but Vlad lowered slightly. He looked up and noticed Buggy’s arm separate from his shoulder.

Then it turned into pieces.

Vlad dropped to the deck, screaming the whole time. He was about to die a terrible death and for what? A stupid no good pirate clown and what sense did that even make, just pick one—!

His wildly flailing feet connected with something hard and meaty. The lumpy ground he landed on miraculously broke his fall, leaving him with only a racing heart and aching legs.

“Hey, you actually landed on him!” Buggy laughed, floating right above him. “Nice one, priss!”

Vlad scrambled up off the Marine captain he just landed on. The blood seeping into the cracked wood did not bode well for his chances of being believed. Something wiggled in his arms and he startled, letting Buggy’s feet fall to the deck.

“You—You dropped me!” He jabbed a finger in Buggy’s chest. “I didn’t meant to fall on him; that was all you!”

“I can’t fly around while carrying someone for that long, dumbass.” Buggy looked past Vlad. “Now, how about you make use of your useless devil fruit and get outta the way.”

Vlad followed his gaze to the Marine captain pushing himself up, a gash on his forehead bleeding profusely over his snarling face. “All troops!” he yelled. “Ignore the man in the suit!”

A swell of hope filled Vlad’s chest. Maybe the man somehow knew this was all Buggy’s doing? Or he’d decided to give Vlad another chance of proving his innocence? Either way, as long as he deduced this was one big misunderstanding, Vlad could finally be taken somewhere civilized!

The man looked Vlad dead in the eyes. “He’s mine.”

“Oops, forgot about killing him when he was distracted,” Buggy said, pulling out almost enough knives to match his fingers. “Well Shady, time for you to leave.”

“No.”

“There water in your ears? I told you to beat it!”

Vlad clenched and unclenched his fist. He felt ectoplasm gather in his palm, pink fire condensed in the centre. Good.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, priss!”

“Do you seriously expect me to just sit back and let you handle this, like some damsel in distress?” Vlad asked.

“Cut the crap, you’re weak as shit. Even a cadet could take you out.”

A red glow lit up Buggy’s face. “Where I’m from, I am the being that everyone fears.” Vlad hovered over Buggy. “Disregarding you and your crewmates’ abnormal strength, I am no pushover.”

“Making yourself taller doesn’t change anything.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Vlad hissed. “I defeat this fool of a soldier and show him the staggering difference between us.” The glow grew brighter. “Then, once you are sufficiently afraid of me, you will start treating me like a real guest.” He floated closer, practically nose to nose. “You will escort me home and, as a courtesy, I will actually pay you for your services. Then you never bother me again. The. End.”

Buggy laughed, long and loud. “Shady, I think you’re the stupidest man I’ve ever met! And I’ve met tons of stupid men!”

“My name is Vlad.” The red glow shifted to pink. “And unless you want another blast to the face, I suggest you beat it.”

“Fine fine, no need to be cranky.” Buggy threw up his hands in one swift movement, his knives disappearing somewhere. Great, a clown magician.

Something swung towards Vlad from the corner of his eye and he turned intangible with hardly a thought. “Finally, I can beat some manners and common sense into your dense skull. Tell me, what kind of pirate wears a hand-tailored cashmere suit?”

“The kind that tries to bait you!” the captain said, hardly pausing before drawing back for another swing. Vlad shot his eyeblasts—perfect aim as per usual—before flying a good distance away. The man cried out, covering his eyes. It didn’t stop him as long as Buggy, hardly a few seconds before he was glaring at Vlad again.

Vlad spread his hand out, firing a blast at his chest. The shot bounced off, seemingly harmless as the Marine captain stalked towards him.

Okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

He tried again, aiming higher. The man hardly flinched, a small, easily missed burn on his forehead. Then Vlad’s flying suddenly cut out and he was stumbling on deck. Shoes on wood.

The ship swayed again, maybe a wave or the fighting was getting too rowdy on the other side of the deck. Something wet trickled down from his hair.

Sea spray. Or maybe even rain. Well, wasn’t he lucky.

“More of your tricks?” the captain asked, pulling a sword sticking out of the deck. Two swords now, dragging against the floorboards. Vlad started to back away. “Trying to distract me again before your captain delivers an ambush?”

No, those were attacks that would leave Daniel—and any other ghost, for that matter—groaning in the dirt. A human would have to seek immediate medical attention. Or a morgue.

This man walked it off like it was a pesky bug flying into him. Less than a bug; there was no notice of danger, no fear of injury.

“Of course someone like you would resort to party tricks. Considering the circus crew you’ve aligned yourself with. And considering your lack of fighting skills, you’re either a disposable pawn or you’re the captain’s boytoy.” The man scoffed. “Must be a good fuck if none of this is a trick.”

“I generally abhor getting my own hands dirty—save for one very special case—so congratulations! You’ve made my list.” Vlad held his hands close together, drawing as much ectoplasm as possible into a single point between his palms. “Have fun in the afterlife. I’ll be sure to send an orange coloured buffoon after you soon.”

He let the ectoplasm explode from his palms, creating a massive ectoblast well over the size of the Marine captain. Smoke burst from one of the barrels—perhaps ignited gunpowder—covering half the deck and obscuring his view. Probably for the best, he didn’t care for seeing the messy aftermath.

Mohji whistled a ways behind Vlad. “Some light show. Did you blind him?”

“It wasn’t a mere light show. It was a highly destructive laser made of a corrosive energy source I can create and use at will.” Vlad dusted off what he could of his suit, grimacing at the sticky blood covered in dust and dirt. “That man is most certainly dead. I guarantee it.”

“Just like you were ‘certain’ you’d injured Captain Buggy yesterday?” Cabaji asked, arms crossed and glaring. The whole thing was undercut by the ridiculous unicycle he was riding back and forth in place.

“That was a fluke. Your captain is abnormally strong,”—and so was Cabaji for that matter, but Vlad wasn’t going to admit it to his face—“but this soldier is human. And every one of my abilities is lethal to—”

“You…” came a deep, rasping voice from the smoke. “Are going to die. By my hand.”

Vlad froze. Somewhere behind him Richie growled.

“You think you can get away without taking me seriously?!”

Out from the smoke emerged the Marine captain, covered in dust, lightly singed, and the picture of rage.

“I’m done doing this by the book.” The man dropped his sword. “I’m going to beat you until your crew can’t even recognize you anymore.” He stalked toward Vlad. “Then I’ll choke you out, tie you to an anchor, and throw you over the edge.”

He loomed over Vlad. “Maybe then you’ll regret the lives you’ve ruined.”

Vlad laughed stiffly. “Well, there’s no need for all that. I’m already regretting my life choices as we speak. You see it all started—” He threw a swift punch to the captain’s gut. There, that should solve that.

Where he was expecting a groan of pain and the man falling over, all he heard was a low, “Did you really think that would work?”

The man reached for Vlad’s wrist, but he turned intangible and quickly flew back. “Listen, I’m not really in the habit of fighting people I don’t have life long revenge plots against,”—and annoying teenagers who try to foil said plots—“so how about you accept your defeat now and I’ll graciously accept your surrender.” He shook out his hand behind his back, trying to subtly relieve the smarting pain in his knuckles.

“I’m done talking.”

The Marine captain rushed Vlad, throwing punches left and right that Vlad was just barely able to dodge. Or rather, phase through. His intangibility had started to flicker between punches and he couldn’t figure out why.

Something sparkled off the captain’s arm, reflected by the sun. Water. Seawater.

“When did you even—” Vlad was cut off as his intangibility dropped completely and he had to dive for the deck to avoid an armbar. “Sugar and cream, can you just hold your horses for a one blasted moment?!”

Vlad tried to swing out a leg to trip him, but it was like slamming his shin into a tree trunk. He pulled back his leg with a hiss. “Cheese logs, what are you people made of?!”

Mohji and Richie, the useless oafs, had the gall to laugh at him while he was fighting for his life. Vlad even caught a glimpse of Cabaji with a smirk on his face. He shouldn’t have expected less from pirates of all people, but what happened to Buggy’s ridiculous order of keeping him safe to humiliate him?

He hastily turned himself invisible and scrambled away as the man was about to stomp on him. Then he found his invisibility had stopped working the moment another kick landed right on his back.

“Sir, really, I’m not part of this little group of—”

“My name,” —the captain said, cutting him off—“is Desta Abebe. I’m the 83rd division captain of the Marines.” Vlad felt a prick at his neck. A sword. “In the name of the Marines, you are hereby to be executed. Right here, right now.”

“Hey now, what happened to breaking the rules—?”

Desta leaned down, whispering with blood on his breath, “I will use any means necessary to kill a pirate.”

Vlad’s intangibility. He needed to strain himself, pull on it as much as possible and phase through the man. No, not even the man, just the sword. If he could go through the sword then he could bluff the man, he just needed a second—half a second. A millisecond even—anything!

A loud, grating laugh echoed from above. “Now isn’t this a familiar sight?”

The sound of metal slicing into flesh and finally, finally the painful noises from the captain that Vlad had been waiting for.

Desta didn’t move, but Vlad could feel the blood seeping into the back of his suit. More metal slicing into flesh, accompanied by Buggy’s laughter, and at last, the man stumbled back.

Vlad tripped his way to his feet as Buggy’s legs walked up to him. Buggy’s torso and head floated above, his hands missing. He grinned down at Vlad. “I saw those flashy lights of yours! You should’ve said you had something that big and bright; I would’ve treated you better!” He laughed, floating down to slap Vlad’s back and send him stumbling.

Vlad rubbed his back as he asked, “Really?”

“No, but I would’ve considered it.”

“You f-filthy—” Captain Desta dropped to one knee, bent over to reveal the dozen or so knives lodged into his back, a dark red stain rapidly growing on his white coat. He coughed, leaving a splatter of blood on the deck.

Two Marine soldiers came up on either side of him, lifting him to his feet. “Sir, we need to retreat,” the woman with purple hair said. Imagine that, a member of law enforcement with dyed hair. Vlad would be bemoaning what the world had come to, but… well.

“You should listen to your cadet, Captain,” Buggy said, a toothy grin on his face. He brandished another handful of knives with a cackle. “Unless you’d like your front to match your back!”

The man tried to push himself up. “No, I’m going to—”

“Captain Desta. With all due respect, even if you could win we would not.” The captain’s brow furrowed and for the first time since the battle started, Vlad took a a look around the ship. A good look.

There were countless injured and dead Marines. Meanwhile, Buggy’s crew watched with wide, bloodthirsty smiles. If it weren’t for Buggy and his trusted aides between them and Captain Desta, he didn’t think they would’ve hesitated to continue the carnage.

Desta snarled, ceasing his struggles. “All troops, retreat!”

“Alright you all!” Buggy shouted. “Give them a flashy farewell!”

Buggy’s crew responded in kind, a loud deafening roar as the crowd ran past Vlad, swords in the air and guns at the ready. The remaining marines fled as fast as they could, the ones first to their ship trying to give some kind of cover fire. The Marine gunmen were picked off, falling like dead flies one after another as the cacophony of laughing pirates chased after their allies.

“Barbarians,” Vlad muttered, turning away from the sight.

“You’ll get used to it,” Buggy said, finally connecting his body together. “They’re like dogs with their favourite treat.”

“Like K-9 units I suppose.” He rolled his eyes as he patted himself down. Relatively dry again, likely enough to avoid a repeat of earlier. “How very charming. And would this mean you’re calling yourself a mutt?”

“Watch it, Shady.” Buggy pointed one of his knives at him. “I don’t like you that much.”

“I don’t recall saying that with the intention of you liking—”

A searing, mind-numbing pain erupted from Vlad’s thigh and he fell to his knees. He was so startled he didn’t even try to hold back his scream.

There was blood seeping from the hole in his suit. He put a hand over it, then immediately yanked it back. He turned over his palm, staring at the liquid staining his skin. It was warm.

The thumping, aching pain, the red-green colour trickling from his leg, it—

Hastily, he tore away at his suit. Because it couldn’t be his blood. It couldn’t be. That was impossible, completely and utterly so. This was all a hallucination, a stupid prank from Daniel that had gone much too far and really he needed to have a talk with his mother about the dangers of slipping people unknown substances in their drinks and—

A hole in his leg, a little bigger than the width of his finger. Still trickling blood.

Index finger hovering over it, he stared at the hole. Willing himself to take the final step. To find out once and for all that this wasn’t real. That he’d just banged his leg into a desk or a wall or the edge of his car.

Something grabbed at his hand, but he phased through it with hardly a thought. He took the plunge.

His throat hurt, but he could hardly hear his own voice. The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the harrowing realization that washed over him.

This world was real.

There he sat, finger jammed in his actual real live bullet wound, the sounds of battle hungry, village pillaging, in-the-flesh pirates ringing in his ears like a death knell.

How—How did this even happen? How did he get here?

More importantly, how was he supposed to get home?

…Could he even return home?

What if this was it? What if whatever put him here left him stranded? Unable to call for help or aid—though he didn’t even know who he’d call—and left to wander this world for the rest of his natural life. How long would that even last? He aged like any other human, but being part ghost must have some affect on his lifespan. And he was more likely than the average human to become a full ghost, so would that mean he’d be stuck in this world for the rest of his existence? Cursed to roam unfamiliar waters and lands until he had the courage to—

Something slapped the back of his head. “Oh man up, it was just one bullet.”

Vlad grunted as he fell forward, reaching back to rub the tender spot.

“I’ve been shot at dozens of times and you don’t see me whining about it.” Light blue hair tickled the side of Vlad’s cheek and Buggy’s voice sounded closer. “Oh eugh, you actually got shot. You should work on not letting that happen.”

“You—” Vlad cut himself off with a shriek as his hand was pulled from the wound.

“What is wrong with you? Why would you just stick your finger in there?” Mohji said. “They teach you that in high society or something? Fucking idiot.” He turned to call out to one of the pirates lingering at the edge of the fighting. “Hey, toss me a bottle!”

Buggy’s feet stepped around them, his floating body reclined with his hands behind his back and following until he was behind Mohji. “Thought you liked your eyes?”

“I’ve got it covered. Richie.”The lion sat itself next to Mohji. It placed a paw on Vlad’s face the same moment Mohji grabbed a unmarked bottle out of the air. Vlad heard the cork pop and Mohji’s condescending voice. “Trying to die of an infection before you hand over your estate isn’t very smart of you, Merchant.”

Offput by the smelly, sticky paw in his face, he managed a muffled, “It’s Vlad, and I wasn’t—” Their odd conversation finally clicked. “Wait, no you don’t need to—!” A string of cheese and cookies ripped from Vlad’s croaky throat as Mohji proceeded to dump alcohol on the wound.

“Was that really necessary?” Vlad asked as Richie pulled his paw away. Mohji was covered in a red glow.

Mohji rolled his eyes and grabbed a roll of bandages from somewhere. “Put that away, you’re not scaring anyone.” He noticeably didn’t answer Vlad’s question. He didn’t ask before roughly wrapping up Vlad’s leg. “Our doctor’s probably performing some generous amputations on our unannounced guests, so you’ll have to wait until later for someone to take a proper look at it.” He tied off the bandage to the point Vlad thought it would cut off circulation. Probably did it that way on purpose, the sadist.

Mohji pushed himself up and walked off with Richie, probably to join the others as they shot canons off at the fleeing Marine ship. The moment he moved, Buggy laughed. “Hey look! You look right at home!”

Buggy pulled out a small mirror and Vlad took a look at his reflection. The blood from Richie’s paw had smeared on his face in a way that wasn’t unlike Buggy’s own clown makeup.

It should’ve been terrifying.

Instead, it gave him an idea.

“If—” he started, breathing heavy and voice shaky. “If I wanted to join your crew. Would you let me?”

Buggy’s brows raised. “Oh, what’s this? Had a taste for battle and now you want more?” He dropped the mirror, leaning in until he was nose to nose with Vlad. Unblinking, he dropped into a low whisper, “Or are you pulling my leg to steal my treasure?”

“Y-Yes.” Vlad gulped. “Er, no I don’t want your treasure. I’m… I’m already wealthy, as you well know. Uh, but my days have always been… mundane so to say. Confined to a boring routine that hardly changes. But this—” The best lies are centred in truth, the best lies are centred in truth. “I always saw more for myself than what my life has come to. I imagined being with the girl of my dreams, and that didn’t happen. I imagined making scientific discoveries and being famous for my work, and instead I sit behind a desk all day doing—doing nothing.

“This is the first time I’ve felt a sense of adventure—a sense of living by your own rules and not caught up in stupid paperwork and… well I suppose I want to chase that feeling as long as I can.”

Buggy continued to stare silently. It dragged on uncomfortably long. Vlad would loosen his tie, but he didn’t think that would help the choking fear in his throat.

Just as he was going to continue his rambling, Buggy laughed.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so!” He put an arm around Vlad. “Welcome to the crew, Shady!”

Relief blew through him, culminating in a, “Thank goodness.” He scrambled to correct himself. “I mean, thank goodness! I was worried you’d refuse and throw me overboard.”

“Don’t be silly!” Buggy’s grip grew tighter. “If we threw you overboard, we would’ve never got the escort money.” His grip loosened. “Which we’re still getting by the way. Think of it as a flashy entrance fee.”

“Did your other crewmembers have to pay an entrance fee?”

“No, but you’re stinking rich and I recently had all my treasure stolen.”

Vlad sighed. “Right.” Something he’d have to figure out an excuse for sooner or later.

“Of course, we’ll be stopping by Loguetown first; I have a dirty thief and a stupid rubber boy to catch and kill. Roronoa Zoro too while we’re at it.”

A small mercy. Vlad could figure out an excuse once they finally reached a town and he could acquire some books and maps on this world.

“We’ll keep your fee on pause until after me and my crew get our revenge. Then we’ll settle things and you’ll officially be one of us.” Buggy grinned. “Maybe I’ll even let you borrow some makeup since it seems you like it so much.” He gave a final laugh and slapped Vlad’s back before floating off to adress his crew.

Vlad roughly scrubbed the blood from his face with his sleeve. If he took a few more moments than necessary, his arm covering his face and shoulders shaking, that was his business.

“Hey Shady! Come and introduce yourself proper so these layabouts know who’s paying for our future feasts!”

Vlad would return home one day. To his loving cats and future wife.

He’d make sure of it.

Vlad put a hand on his knee and pushed himself up, taking the first step to—

He screamed.

“SON OF A BITCH.”

#danny phantom #one piece #DPxOP #dp crossover #invisobang #invisobang 2024 #danny phantom big bang #nemo the writing ho #vlad masters #buggy the clown #YEAHHHH BANG FIC TIME #YIP FUCKNIG EEEEEEEE

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