Soaked nightmare - Sukuna Ryomen x Reader
Synopsis: Ex-boyfriend Sukuna is struggling with your absence, stumbles to your apartment a mess.
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CW: alcohol, self harm, violence, other self-destructive behavior
This is my first ever one-shot! Any constructive criticism is very much appreciated! (P.S: English isn’t my first language, sorry if i use any words with the incorrect meaning!)
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Sukuna has always been a beast. He was rash, impulsive, downright stupid. He still is. He knew that, he was especially aware of it while dating you three years ago.
You were like a wisp of smoke in his hand, disappearing into the air as soon as he had his hands on you. He grabbed you once, clenched his fist tight, and prayed you’d stay.
Sukuna stopped drinking, stoped going to that shitty bar in the worst part of town just to come back home black or blue, or to not come home at all. You’d find him splattered outside your doorstep like a puddle after a few too many whiskeys, mumbling incoherently.
With you Sukuna was different, he’d try his hardest to be quiet, to be calm. He knew you deserved it, deserved a million times more than what that he could give. He enjoyed it while it lasted, how you willingly put your hands on him, how you made him a crazy good omelette sometimes, how you kissed his temple before bed. He wondered why you weren’t scared, why this scarred and tattooed man didn’t make you shake like a leaf in the wind. But he was glad he didn’t.
You knew he could do whatever if he wished, even hurt you, it always lingered in the back of your head, but it never surfaced. Not until that day, in a fit of anger, a petty argument about him disregarding his health, his job, his life—his large palm collided with your cheek. His head got too loud, the thoughts he felt you drowned out only got louder. He knew he fucked up, when he saw the words die on your tongue, when he saw you freeze over in shock. He knew then and there, that he’d forever lost you. He saw the thoughts you’d never considered as possible surface in your mind.
And as you left, he realized he never held that tantalizing wisp of smoke. He just kept his fist closed and assumed it was in his grip. That you were tied to him like he was tied to you—and in an instant, his North Star, his guiding light, left him.
Sukuna doesn’t know how he found himself at your apartment door, absolutely soaked in the rain, droplets trickling down familiar pink strands of hair. He looks down at you, that familiar face, and he almost feels like he can see the red mark on your cheek from years ago. The guilt gnaws at his insides, like a parasitic alien in his gut. And the only way this so called ‘parasite’ would stop tormenting him is with random flings, alcohol, tattoos, and the occasional pain—inflicted either by a random fight he’d start, or by his own means. Anything to dull the pain of the gaping hole your absence left in him.
His gaze was all you needed, you gave a simple nod and stepped aside to allow him into the familiar apartment you owned. Sukuna sat down on the leather couch in your apartment, silent as a mouse. The apartment is clean, cleaner than we he stayed here, filling the place with the scent of cigarettes, throwing around beer bottles galore. His gaze is downturned, and he brushes strands of his hair aside, ignoring the wet footsteps he left on your pristine hardwood floors—he muttered out a “Just for the night.” And you complied.
You grabbed a spare indigo blanket and a pillow, giving them to him quietly. Its still tense, staring at the man you used to hold dear like he’s a stranger. He offers a nod in acknowledgment, scarred hands grabbing the soft blanket and pillow as he lays down, in a familiar apartment, with a person he holds dear, but far out of his reach. That wisp of smoke. That wisp of smoke who let a wretch like Sukuna still stay at their clean apartment after he put his hands on them. He could never forgive himself.
He stares at the ceiling, his soaked clothes sticking to his body like a second skin. He wants to let out a sob, he’s sorry, he’s so very sorry about what he’s done to you. If only he could crawl into your embrace just this once, sleep without those agonizing dreams replaying in his head of the night you left, of the silence in his apartment, of the passing days where he felt all traces of your presence fade. The cleanliness, the smell, the cooking, it was all gone.
He presses the base of his palm over his face, nearly pushing his eyes out on the other side of his head. He even sees those little rainbow flashes of light under his eyelids. He really cant tell when his eyes are open or closed from the dark, except for the sliver of light coming from the crack in your door. You always were like a guiding light, how touché.
He knows it’s wrong, he shouldn’t have snuck into your bed. But he misses you, how he misses your tender kiss, how those compliments and promises at something more slipped from your lips like you were made to say them. He’s just so sorry, sorry for wetting your bed with his clothes, sorry for ever raising a hand to you, for driving you away from him.
“Sorry,” he whispered, his muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he relishes in your warmth. He never forgets what pushing you away did to him. It ruined him, permanently scarred him, literally.
“Sorry.” He mutters once more, noticing your eyes flutter open. He just wants you to let him have this, this one thing. He may just go mad if he’s denied this, if he cant be next to you anymore. God, maybe he already is crazy. He yearns for your simple warmth, this touch, more than the flings, than the passionate embraces with other women. The vile things he’s done in bed with others can never measure up to you. He may never admit how much he years for true intimacy instead of a fleeting touch from a random blond at the bar.
“Sukuna?” Your eyes flutter open, the uncomfortable feeling of water on your neck jolts you awake. Your voice is quiet, holding a twinge of confusion more than any fear. It’s beginning to be hard to fear a man who just seems so… small.
“M’cold, soaked to the fuckin’ bone,” Sukuna’s response is quick, but quiet, the same old rough voice. Its not how it was, yet why does he sound like it is? He’s burried in the crook of your neck, his weight pressed against your body as he lays there. His breath hits your skin, feeling more and more uneven with each breath. “Sorry, i forgot to give you a towel.” You apologize softly, your features contorting into a mix of regret and pity. He doesn’t seem alright, he looks like a wet cat. Sukuna feels pathetic, he knows he looks like a damn puppy on the side of the street. He’s never thrown his pride aside so easily, so quickly for a sliver of the paradise that is your embrace.“Yeah, I’m fucking soaked.” He scoffs, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, his tone more harsh than intended. When has he ever been okay in the few years since your split? He can’t remember the last time he was alright without you. It doesn’t really exist.
He’s a hollow husk parading around like a man, filling his life with booze, sex, violence and substances to see if it’ll drown out the voice in his head scorning him for his stupidity. At how he pushed the walking angel he’s laying on out of his life so carelessly, how he had the sheer audacity to think he could lay a hand on you.
He grumbles, the words unable to leave his lips as he nuzzles the column of your throat. His expression almost hard to decipher. Like those paintings where you cant tell if the subject is looking at you or away from you—you cant tell if he’s sad or just numb. “M sorry, fuck—” His voice cracked, breath hitching. He couldn’t cry, monsters like him didn’t have the right to tears. “Just needed ya’.”
“Let’s get you dry, sit down.” You mumble, your voice quiet from being recently woken from your sleep. Sukuna freezes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s surprised. Surprised at how easily you command him without even trying. He sits down, looking over at you without a word.
You come back to the room with a towel and some clothes, and he eyes the sweatpants and hoodie carefully. Something seems familiar, but he cant place his finger on it. “You couldn’t sleep?” You ask, standing in front of him, a towel on his head as you dry his hair yourself. Sukuna has never been the best at caring for himself, it always felt better when you did it. He cared for himself most when he was with you, because it made you smile at him, look up at him with that pretty expression. “Nah,” he says dryly, looking down, not a word of protest to his hair being dried like hes a child. Honestly he enjoys it, enjoys feeling your touch. No matter if this pesky towel is in the way.
He holds the fresh clothes in his hands, looking down as he comes to a realization. Thats his hoodie, these clothes are all his. The cigarette burns carefully etched into the black cotton, the fading grafic of a band he knows you don’t like on the front. He wondered where this hoodie went, he thought he’d just lost it. But you kept it, you kept his hoodie after all this. It just makes him feel like a monster.
He curses himself for hoping it brought you comfort, he curses himself for even daring to think you were comforted by a little remanent of him in your life. He should assume you kept his hoodie in a box under your bed, collecting dust. But when he’s hit with the sweet scent of you from the hoodie, his assumptions are proven right. You wore the damn thing, your familiar smell is woven into the fibers of the hoodie. He wished he could weave you into the fibers of himself, he could laugh at himself for envying a hoodie.
“How’ve you been, Sukuna?” You ask casually, trying to lighten the mood as you dry his hair. “Fine,” he spits out, the only words he can say right now are ‘fine’ or ‘sorry’. You look down at him, a frown on your face from the lack of detail. He stands up abruptly, peeling off his soaked shirt as he wears the hoodie. It smells like you. He finds himself bringing the collar of the hoodie up to his nose just to get a whiff of your comforting scent, like a man starved. He carefully slips the sweatpants on, the soaked clothes a little puddle of fabric on the floor as he sits back down.
You worry, worry about what hes doing, because he doesn’t appear to be fine. Far from it. “That’s not what i asked.” You say, your voice a bit firmer. You expect a response, a real response to your question instead of a nod or a hum. “S’been shit,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as he speaks in that gruff tone of voice. He isn’t really living, just making it through the days. He’s waiting out his clock, counting the days since you left. What is there to even do when the one person who kept him anchored to this shithole of a world left? All because of him.
“Drink, smoke, fuck, work, repeat” He says, trying to be a bit more specific to make this simple conversation last a bit longer. Anything to hear your sweet voice, no matter what you say to him. Cuss him out, say he’s a prick, tell him he has no future, he wont care. The way you dry his hair, care for him so tenderly, he’ll never care. He just yearns to be yours again. “Thats all?” You ask softly, trying to keep your obvious judgement to yourself. Hes not your boyfriend anymore, you have no right to nag at him to be healthy or careful anymore. But oh, how he longs to hear you nag at him again. “Just that?” You question, raising a brow in curiosity. “Nothing else?”
Sukuna looks up at you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as his shoulders drop. “Can’t seem to stay out of trouble without ya, y’know?” he mumbles, trying to resist the urge to pull you closer, to feel you one more time. He just doesn’t know what else to say, he cant admit all the stupid things hes done without you there. How he went totally batshit crazy once, how he nearly died choking on his own vomit when he drowned himself in alcohol. He cant tell you all the new scars he’s inflicted on himself, all the substances he takes, all the times he’s been taken to the police station for another petty bar fight.
“Any new tattoos?” You ask, looking down at him. Sukuna nods, scratching his scalp as he speaks. “Few,” he replies. “A couple random ones. This one—“ he pulls the fabric of his sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on his forearm. Kanji going vertically down the limb, with delicate vines and flower blooming in between the bold ink. “Is for you. Always regretted driving you away.” His admission is vulnerable, crimson eyes scanning your face to gauge your reaction. Its definitely for you, Sukuna doesn’t get these delicate and soft tattoos. You expected maybe a heart or something with your initial, but this is art. It’s something he got done while sober, thats obvious.
“For me?” Your brows raise in surprise, a bit confused. You grab his arm, looking at the tattoo more intently. “This was a bad decision, you know that, right?” You say in frustration, slightly frustrated to still be tied to a man you tried your hardest to forget.
“Course it was a bad decision.” He replies nonchalantly, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest. “Ain’t that what I’m best at?” He’s been a wreck without you, even got a tattoo to keep any part of you with him. Trying to drown out his head in anything, leaning toward alchool and nicotine for the normal days, substances and violence for the days that were quite hard to deal with. He remembers the day he got the tattoo vividly, which is a surprise considering any days without you faded from his memory as soon as they came. His head felt full of you, and nothing else.
“For all its worth—“ You pause, looking down at him with a slight frown. You gaze at the tattoo once more, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and art is subjective. But his memento to you, “It’s beautiful.” You comment softly, deciding not to scorn his decision this time. And it truly is beautiful.
“Means alot,” his voice holds a twinge of joy, hands move up to grasp at the towel, inked fingers brushing against yours. “You… it’s late, you should sleep.” His tone lacks any true conviction, his gaze moving up to your face, trying to read your expression. And the pity and concern on your face makes him want to rip his hair out. “I can’t let you sleep with wet hair, you’ll get a headache.” You comment, carefully drying strands of poorly dyed pink hair. Sukuna wants to reach out and pull you close, to wrap his arms around you and hit himself as many times as you say just to get your forgiveness.
“I’ve been through plenty of headaches, baby.” He says, eyes falling shut as he forces himself to stay awake. The nickname leaves his lips so naturally, he forgets he has no right to call you that anymore. He cant do anything without knowing you forgive him or not. He wants you back, he needs you back or he might just lose it. He can feel himself unravel by the day, he’s almost lost his grip. Didn’t know how much he needed you till you were gone.
“Sukuna, you alright?” You break the long silence, features the picture of a worried lover. It makes his heart clench. Just look at you, how could you gaze at a man like him with such tenderness? How do you touch him without recoiling in disgust? God, how he misses you.
“Do i look alright to you?”
“Not really...”
“Exactly.”
You look down at him, a heavy breath leaving your chest as you remove the towel, looking down at him. His eyes seem glazed over, like hes not fully in the moment. Sukuna knows you see it, and hes trying not to focus on you too much or he might just burst into ugly tears. “Missing ya, every second of every day.” He mumbles, gently taking your hands as he allows the briefest brush of his lips across your knuckles.
“Do i scare you?” He blurts out.
“What?”
“I won’t blame you if i do, just tell me.”
You pause for a moment, looking down at him as he holds your hands close to his lips. “Not right now.”
“Other times?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He cocks a brow. “Like when i hit you?”
Your voice is awkward, your gaze averted from his tender affections. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He cranes his head up to gaze at you, breathing deeply to steady himself. He almost thought you’d be joking, but seeing your expression solidifies it for him. He’s been thrown off guard. He knew he frightened you that day, hearing you admit it is just more horrid. He just wishes he wasn’t so damn scary. “‘M sorry,” The words can’t form in his brain, let alone leave his lips.
Apologize to her, say something! Im sorry, im sorry for hitting you, im sorry, i love you!
“I still care about you, ya know?”
“I know, Sukuna.”
“You care too.”
“...”
“Been shit without you, baby. Im going crazy here.” He chucks dryly, not a hint of humor in his tone. It’s not funny, he’s serious, he’s off the rails without you. He needs you there, to keep him on a leash, to be there for him, to put your hand on his shoulder to make sure he doesn’t blow up at some granny in the grocery store for being slow. To gently help him after a hangover, to clean his bloody knuckles after another fight.
“You’re not crazy. Just hurting.”
“In other words—im crazy.”
“Its been years, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why all of this? Why are you hurting? The tattoo, coming to my house, looking at me like… that!” You blow up, face the picture of hurt as you look down at him. Why does he torment you like this? You already struggled with the split, he cant come to your house and look at you so sweetly, speak so gently.
“Cause i need ya,” he mumbles, fingers intertwining with yours. “Cause i love you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Its the truth, you know I’m bad at lying to ya’.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“I want you to hear it.”
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Determination! (Platonic)
Warning for this chapter: fisher tigers part is much more serious. It’s talks of slavery and while it isnt too graphic it does included a lot of mature themes. If that makes you uncomfortable please skip over it
You find that your dreams are very disjointed
Granted, you normally don’t dream at all
It’s typically just empty blackness as you fall into unconsciousness and then back into the waking world
But when you do have a dream every once in a blue moon
It’s…odd
Even for Dream standards you think their somewhat odd
The voices of those long past that you’d met cheering you on
Flashes of multicoloured sparks
The endless expanse of space as you stare at a star
It’s an old one, a dying one
Your not sure how you know that information yet you do
And you watch it die with sparkling eyes
It implodes on itself
Creating a massive explosion of light and energy that dispersed throughout the galaxy
Bright white light shattering into every colour imaginable into the void of space
The energy going in every corner of the universe
A supernova
Your not sure how you know that word but it comes into your mind
Perhaps it hasn’t even been invented yet because you know for a fact that knowledge on stars was vastly limited
Yet that doesn’t stop you from knowing knowledge you never knew before
You reach out towards the remnants of the dead star in a trance
The cheers of the dead yelling “stay determined!”
You open your mouth to eat the star shards
And then you wake up
How curious
Sun Pirates
In your time adrift at the endless sea you had come across many people of many races
Humans, odd winged people, mermaids, devil fruit users, marines and pirates
So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you come across a group of fishmen sailing the sea
They all look over deck at you with a mixture of expressions
Some worry, others pity and some with conflict
But as they all watch a Fishman with rose red skin, a tattoo of a sun on his chest and black hair tied back with a bandanna
He ushers them aside to look Down at you from what you assume to be his ship
“Hi! Do any of you know what part of the sea I’m in?. I think it’s the north blue? But I’m not sure. You’d think with the amount of time I’ve been afloat I’d be able to tell but-“
“Kid are you alone?!”
“Do you see anyone else on this ship?”
You don’t have much of a choice before your brought upon their ship
To their surprise though your not scared?
In fact you seem rather amused at the predicament your in
One that would usually leave normal people scared shitless
But it’s easy for the entire crew to tell your not a normal kid
Especially as you seem to find interest in what type of marine animals each member is
Even more so when you ask about how the capabilities/features of said marine animal
It’s…odd how knowledgeable you are despite your young age
And when they ask about it you just say “I know from experiences on the sea”
Like the fuck is that supposed to mean when your talking about the dangerous venom of the stonefish
They are worried
Like real worried
Some are still off put by the fact your a human but with how your talking the mixture of shock and concern overpower it
God they never thought they’d be fretting over a human but when you talk in visceral odd detail about how sharks occasionally eat people when desperate or confusing them for other prey
It’s a bit freaky
Doesn’t help that it’s oddly specific which makes it seem much more personal
And how you explain all these facts with a completely wide smile not noticing how their all horrified
Their captain Fisher tiger is especially worried when he questions you about how you ended up alone at sea in the first place
He keeps pressing you on the matter but always gets the same response of “I set out to sea and haven’t looked back” and “I’m not sure if my island exists anymore. It’s not like anyone would remember me, I’ve been gone for such a long time”
That implies so much and at the same time is very vague
This poor man is a few migraines away from bashing his head against a wall
But other than that and the worry he finds you to be an interesting kid
While watching you interact with his crew he notices that you treat them all as regular people
You don’t make snide comments nor do you go off of stereotypes to categorize them
Instead you see them as their own individual people
People who were owed respect no matter their race or appearance
And even when a few aren’t exactly the most friendly towards you your respect
Giving them space as you see their uncomfortable
For a kid your emotionally aware in a way that even most adults can’t compare
You can tell if someone has deep rooted trauma and don’t push the subject
Going out of your way not to bring up bad memories associated with humans if your presence did so
There were seemingly no bad feelings about it either
Just pure understanding in your eyes from possible personal experience
Even when he harbours hate for you it’s brushed off as seemingly nothing personal
When your not conversing your quietly helping around
Somehow knowing how to raise the sails and properly clean the deck
Never telling anyone of your deeds and just doing them to help out
It’s clear by how organic it is for you that your used to doing it
Yet your own …”ship” is something more akin to a poorly put together raft
Everything about you is odd
And for a long while he isn’t sure if that’s good or bad
Fisher is a man haunted by the actions inflicted upon him
A shared trauma among all his people from humans
He does not discriminate when rescuing slaves but he still has his own afflictions towards humans
The actions of them still on his skin and baring his soul
Yet he allows you on his ship despite it
Because he knows your a child
Someone who had not harmed him nor his people
Someone who’s innocent to the horrors of the world
To the harm done by your race
He grapples with his own hated for you because of something you cannot pick
He feels guilty and horrible for it
Yet the look in your eyes says that you understand him somehow
And that makes him feel worse
A child should not understand hatred from others
Let alone understand why he feels hatred towards them
And then also accept it with such empathy
it hurts
he's reminded of the guards who used to sneer at him for being who he was
you feel no sadness due to his gaze
only kindness as you do your best to avoid him
in some sense you understand why he gazes at you that way
you can't blame him, not when you yourself had been victim of the abuse of your own kind
looked down upon as dirt
seen as lesser
what hurts worse though is that you can't solely blame one group like he and some of his men can do
your human and your hurt by other humans
maybe it's worse in some aspects
it's why you give an understanding look in your eyes despite his occasional glare
Jinbe is perhaps the one you spend the most time with on the ship other than Hatchan
There is apprehension at first but what follows after a short period of time is kindness
Your just a kid
One not guilty for the crimes of others
He can’t blame someone’s actions on you
Especially when your nothing but respectful to them all despite their hesitation due to your race
He reminds you of a gentle giant which is fitting with what marine animal he’s acquainted to
Most times spent with him are ones where he listens to your words
Finding interest and intrigue in your stories and facts of the sea
It seems far fetched a child experienced all this but the look in your eyes says it’s true
The small mementos that hang on your form like hand woven bracelets, necklaces of shells and shark teeth, a coat befit for a captain hanging on your shoulders and bandana tied around your forehead to keep your hair tangled with pearls back
Their all signs that somehow your tales are true
As amazing and horrifying as they seem their true
And it leaves him feeling anxious
Your a good kid
Maybe one of the best he’s met so far and seeing the wear and tear on you hits him hard
You put up a smile and bare through whatever someone throws your way
Never once speaking back unless your standing up for someone besides yourself
It’s admirable but he sees how it has worn you down
Once upon a time he can imagine you smiling out of actual joy
And now it’s a mechanism for you to write off your pain
Your selfless to a fault
And on the sea people take advantage of that
But perhaps you already experienced that
And it leaves Jinbe’s stomach swirling with unease
He frets over you like a mother hen when you throw all regard for safety away and when you get something simple like a paper cut cause he knows either way you won’t care to tend to your own wounds
He honestly at the point wonders if this is what being a mother feels like
But he can’t contemplate that long cause Arlong is being a dick once again
Tension with him was high before but now Jinbe has half the mind to knock him square in the jaw if he kicks you again
And now he has half the mind to shake some sense into you when you walk it off
God he needs some sort of therapist cause he does not know how to help you beyond being protective and patching you up
It’s obvious that your hurt beyond repair on the inside
The times he’s found you just simply staring off towards the sea with a dead look in your eyes is a testament to that
A call of longing in long gone innocent eyes that still retain kindness despite it all
In those moments he just sits by your side and holds you
You grasp him like a lifeline
Something anchoring you down to reality as your mind makes you remember
He tells stories of fishmen island to distract you
He noticed though that when he tells of the promise to fishmen island from joyboy something in your eyes light up
Sparkles of light within them that dance but then fizzle away after a moment along with a shiver gliding down his back for some reason
He writes it off though
Just going back to his tales
It’s under yet another moon lit night you end up staring out at sea again
Memories of the past swirling in your mind like a hurricane
You can’t help it
Not after being reminded of one life you particularly didn’t like
You didn’t mean to overhear Fisher and Jinbe but it just happened
The captain of the crew talking about his time as a slave
The horror inflicted upon him at the hands of humans
You just keep staring out at the water
Burying yourself deeper into your subconscious trying to escape
But you can’t
Too distracted by the memories that you don’t even notice the two coming out the captains quarters to find you
Vacantly staring out at sea
Your staring out at the water
A deep empty stare
Darkness swirling in your irises
Occasionally you twitch, a jolt of imaginary pain burning your back once more
You sometimes still feel the pain of the brand that luckily now doesn’t haunt your skin
You hadn’t felt it in a long while until you realized after hearing him talk the tattoo of the sun on him was his brand covered up
It served as some sort of trigger
The memories came flooding back
The pain
The torture
The screams
The death
The rot
The overwhelming plea for death in a hell that became a limbo realm
Your hands trace the symbol on the wood lightly
Every couple of months (or maybe years? Your not sure) these thoughts and memories came up
It’s a normal cycle for you
Yet now they hit harder after seeing his tattoo
Cause it makes you think of them
Of the 3 sisters, the names of you never got as your mind makes the effort to forget what you experienced
Up until now you always had the worry of forgetting
You had been alive for a long time
so much so that your memories are inconsistent and blur together
Yet your time as a slave is something clear in your head that you wish erase
To wipe clean from your mind and bury
Yet you can’t will yourself to forget them
Because of those 3 girls you’d befriended over scraps of dry bread
Of the shared pain that was all understood from the four of you
Crying silently together while huddled in the dark
Cleaning one another’s bruises
The eldest girl of the bunch holding you one night when noticing your shivering form, the other two following in the action of huddling around you
A budding friendship formed from barely any words but silent understanding and conversations though looks
You can’t abandon their memory even if it’s attached to other ones you wished to bleach from your mind
It’s there staring into the darkened water you mutter 2 words that had been erased from your mind out of fear
“Celestial dragons”
The words are spat out like a curse yet your tone is full of emptiness
It’s something only someone affected by them could say in such a tone
Perhaps that’s why Fisher now looks at you with realization
“You…you were one too?”
“Yeah, it…I think it was a couple years back, I’m not sure though. The passage of time is hard for me to notice anymore, it all blurs together. Hell I can barely remember my life before the sea, I know I had parents and then they died but…I can’t remember their faces. Anyways, I was captured and sold, ended up in some dungeon.” For a moment you pause going over your memories as you pinch your chin in thought, the way you speak about it is nonchalant yet holds a lot of untold weight “it’s a blur of pain, I remember it specifically on my back. I try to limit how clear it is cause I don’t specifically like remembering it. There were these 3 girls though, sisters who all ended up in the same cell as me. We found kinship in our situation, I gave them the scraps of food I got since they needed it more than me.”
“Do you know what happened to them?” At hearing this you turn to Jinbe, a solemn expression crossing your face as an answer
“Not sure. I…like to hope that their ok, that they found their way back home” your tone is anything but hopeful, cracking with gloom that’s evident in your eyes “but hoping is all I can do. I wished for death when I was there, hoping they’d just finish me off so I could move on. At some point though I began to hope, those 3 girls needed someone there for them and I hoped I could remain just for them”
“Why’d you escape then?”
“I didn’t have choice.”
“What do you mean? That doesn’t really make sense”
They watch as an odd look forms in your eyes
They sparkle with unknown mystery
Something old and sentimental
Something ancient despite the young face you have
“Can you keep a secret?”
They look at one another for a moment
A silent conversation between the two
Jinbe is the one who nods first, your gaze then shifting to Fisher who takes a moment to look at you
He never noticed it till now but your eyes have something about them that…seems inhuman
For a second he swears he even sees stars sparkle in them
Great big shining stars that light the night sky’s and allow sailors to navigate the treacherous seas they love and call home
Stars that when he looks at reminds him of his freedom
Of not staring at the ceiling of a cage
Stars he wished to grasp at back in the days he wore shackles
Stars that for some reason now seemed to shine brighter, as if mirroring your resolve
He nods, watching a moment of vulnerability shine through eyes that look blank for a child
Eyes that have seen horrors
Eyes that had lost their twinkle of innocence yet still retain childlike charm in viewing the world
Eyes that sparkle of something ancient and old, residing in the depths of your irises like a great deity in the void of the night sky
“Have you heard about a star that never dies?” And so you begin your tale
By the time your done your tale they both sit there in silence
A deafening and choking silence that grips at you like the old collar of rusting steel or ball and chain that used to be attached to your leg
A sign of having your freedom weighed down
Locked away
You had once tried to break that leg but the girls stopped you
The eldest of them crying for you to stop
So you did
You watch them both stay in silence
And then see the tears line their eyes
And then they crumble like a cracked heart
Jinbe falling first as he grips you
Strong and battle-worn hands now soft and gentle
Afraid that you’d fade away
Afraid what would happen if he let go
It’s what you expected from him
But then You look to Fisher and find him in a similar state much to your surprise, if not he might be even worse than how Jinbe is handling what you told
Pure grief in his eyes
Regret
Pain
Solidarity
Familiarity
And most of all empathy
It pours out from him like his tears
Like a waterfall with never ending raging water crashing down onto the rocks
it’s loud and passionate
Covers up the internal screams of the past latching back onto him, into the lingering scars
Stinging Pain sinking back into those same spots like the angry gnashing claws of a beast
He’s hurting
But so are you
Your hurting together through shared experiences and ones he could never wish to experience
Jinbe holds you for a long while
Time melts away as do the phantom pains of those long past days
You hold him back
The soft material of his yukata pulling you in even further
Warmth
Comfort
Understanding
And your unspoken words of ‘thank you’ to his of ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’
You let time melt away a little more as they find themselves once more
“Why did you tell us this?” Fisher asks this with tears still falling down his face. Jinbe holds you close, webbed hand behind your head as he pulls you closer. You hear the waves lapping at the boat and the beats of his heart, it thumps like a drum. Rhythmically helping your equally torn apart emotions.
“I heard you talking about your experience. I thought it’s fair that I do the same” it’s said in such a simple manner that it makes the two fishmen reel back in shock for the third time in a night. It’s said in such sincerity and innocence, as if that was something normal “an equal exchange,If you will”
The crew watch on in confusion the next morning at the expression of thinking Fisher has on his face
Along with the clear signs of crying that Jinbe and him hold
People push but neither say a word
They say it isn’t their story to tell as their eyes trail back to you sitting with Hatchan
Playing a game innocently
Obliviously
Like a regular kid
Most don’t push after their captains grim expression
The look in his eyes
Some keep their curiosity to a low lit flame yet don’t get anywhere on the account they can’t get you to spill anything and Jinbe doesn’t exactly like them being nosey
So it eventually fizzles out
Things back back to normal
You tell your tales
Show them games they’d never played
You in turn learn more about fishman and mermaid society
But then you leave just as abruptly as you appeared
It’s weird to say but at a diner with them all as shanties are sung you just randomly say that soon you’ll be leaving
And despite how most of them hate to admit it
They didn’t want you to go
Hatchan is comically crying as a few others stubbornly argue against it
That it’s dangerous and you could get yourself killed
They look to Fisher and Jinbe who had been more observant of you as of late (if that’s even more humanly possible for Jinbe)
But their met with a reaction none had thought would happen
They object
They say it’s your choice and they can’t shackle you here
The sea was your home
And so the decision for your leave was cemented
In the days leading up to it you spend time with most the crew
But they all notice that at night you and their captain look out to the sky at night
Silence conversations happening through mere looks
pure understanding
Just pure solemn understanding
None make comments on it if they see it
Don’t mention it and forget it ever happened out of respect for both parties
And when the time comes to leave they all watch (some crying even) while waving goodbye
You promise them you’d meet again
“You’ll all be at sea right? Then that means you’ll definitely see me again someday! Wait and see! Grasp your freedom strong and tight, never take it forgranted”
Fisher watches and waves as you drift off into the distance, he holds a gentle smile
He hopes he’d meet you again
Hopes that perhaps you’d somehow end up on fishman island and talk to his people
As much as he thought Otohime’s talks of humans and fishmen working together in harmony were a naive and impossible dream
Perhaps if there were more humans like you it could work
And maybe
Just maybe
It would help both sides see that in the end neither were that different from one another
In your words on the silent night before you left “we both bleed, we feel and in the end we both have the same fates don’t we?. At heart no matter if your fishman, mermaid, human or anything else we experience the same gifts of life. We are all equal in the fact we are born on this earth and die here, and with that comes the desire for freedom and the pursuit of happiness”
He and his crew still have a lot to grapple with on the road to change
But you helped them start the first steps in overcoming the hate for your kind
A young immortal human child who had seen horrors upon horrors
Inflicted by their own kind that they will never stop loving with all their heart
Because you believe that inherently almost every sentient creature is born with kindness in them. It’s the world that corrupts it
When they are asked to take a former slave girl back to her hometown he does not have any hesitation to do so
He hopes that this is the next step in overcoming his hatred
Mihawk
Mihawk thought he was going to have a nice and relaxing day
His morning had been going great, a nice glass of red wine before he trained, a good breakfast
And then when he went outside of his castle there he finds is a young child looking around confused
….god damn it
So yeah, you died and just randomly appeared on the island that houses the greatest swordsman currently in the world
Not exactly your first choice but it wasn’t the worse
Well wasn’t bad instil the swordsman himself shows up looking as confused as you were
Yeah seems like you have some explaining to do
And dying or running away wouldn’t exactly help with the endeavour either since he seems intent on an answer
So here you are
In a gothic mansion lead by Mihawk into a room as he calmly sits down and asks you to explain
Now
And so you do
Well…you do the best you can to explain your entire situation as he sits there with a blank expression
By the end he just sighs
To be honest he’s not sure if he believes it or not but he takes it as an answer for now
And after that you two form an odd friendship and routine as you spend your time on his island
To his pleasure your polite and not loud
Silently watching him train or go about his day
Along with that conversations with you are actually quite pleasant
Mihawk is a man of very few words
Only shanks is able to get him talking with the help of finely aged booze
Yet talking with you comes naturally as breathing the air around him
It’s intriguing
Especially as it seems your story isn’t a bluff for how personally and detailed your recounts of events are 
Colour him impressed
you talk of Roger in a way that only Shanks could do
Describe the gods valley event with details only found in classified marine files
Not only that but your also a good storyteller
Telling such events in glorious ways that he can’t help but listen to the liquid gold that is your voice
The treasure trove of stories that flow out your mind
He must admit that he can’t help but sit on the edge of his seat
Wanting to hear more
In this time he comes to care for you
Your a child eternally
One in a cruel world that preys on the weak
While you may be strong mentally (god knows if you hadn’t then you would’ve gone insane) but physical your not
What doesn’t help is your total and utter lack of self awareness
God knows the amount of times he’d saved your ass from being killed by Humandrills
After awhile they seem to get the memo of leaving you alone but that still doesn’t stop you from almost dying in other ways
Almost walking off a cliff
Almost falling into a river
Almost getting hit by a piece of falling stone
He is now paranoid and trails you like a shadows or has you stick around him incase of yet another near death incident
God is this what being a dad feels like? Cause that’s how Mihawk feels at this point
He has half the mind to buy a child leash or something similar
Cause if you wander off one more time and almost die he’s gonna-
You make his stress levels go through the roof
Doesn’t help you completely brush of dying as no big deal
As if being eaten that one time isn’t traumatic as hell
He wonders if his position of warlord has some sort of health benefits cause he might look into therapy
Not that you think you need it though, you think your completely fine yet he begs to differ
You find it funny how stoic he is yet you can read him like a book
He shows his growing care through actions
Like making breakfast or decorating a spare room of his castle to something more suited to your taste
The unspoken offer of “if you need a place to stay your always welcome here” through these actions
A silent way of also prepping for you leaving
He knows that moment is coming
Especially as your small “boat” drifts ashore
He’s hardly call that a boat but nether the less it floats on water and you call it a boat
In your time preparing to leave he insists on at least teaching you the basics of using a sword
The proper positioning of your grip and stance
How to give a powerful slash
You pick up quickly, years of watching experienced swordsmen coming into play
He’s proud yet worry sows itself into his brow
Your a kind soul
One that has been put through untold hell and back
Even the strongest sword can bend and break if pressure is put on the perfect point
He doesn’t know what your breaking point will be but he’s worried
Cause inevitably it’s bound to happen
He at least has some peace of mind knowing he taught you how to fight
And when he sends you off he promises that when you next meet he’d have Sword fit for you
The castle feels more lonely without your small pitter patter of footsteps
The air is still when it should be filled with your stories of old
The garden takes more effort than he remembers when your not there to pull out the weeds
The Humandrills seem to miss your presence
It’s odd but you’d left such an impact in such a small amount of time
Mihawk wouldn’t have it any other way though
Hiriluk
Recently on the spring island you found yourself on there had been rumours of a thief going by
Normally this wouldn’t had caught your attention
But one day as you walk past an odd eccentric man with Snow White hair in a ridiculous manner with clearly stolen objects you can’t help but be intrigued
Especially as he shifts into an alleyway, leaning against the grimy wall with a hand over his heart
Coughs racking his entire form
Almost crumbling down as the subsequent spoils of his stealing fall as well
It’s then and there you become invested in this odd man
His story
So you decide to help him
For someone’s who’s a thief you’d thinks he’d be less enthusiastic about giving out his name
But your sorrily mistaken (in a good way) as the man introduces himself as Hiriluk
A master thief of the grand line
A plunderer of countless treasures and various tales
You nod along
Listening intently to his words as you help walk him to his hideout
The poor man is still shaken after his illness acting up again
Apparently as of late it’s been worse, so much so that he fears his days are now limited
But despite that he keeps a quite chipper attitude
Somehow finding enjoyment despite his circumstances
He’s…much like yourself in that sense
Finding joy even in the bleak conditions of your reality
It…is nice in some sense
To find someone a lot like yourself in mindset
Makes conversation much more interesting as you both talk of similar viewpoints
Much like you he is plagued with a curse that follows him everywhere he goes
From island to island
No matter the pace he canning escape his disease
A factor of his life that he must now deal with as he enjoys the time he has left
He’d given up on a cure by now
But…despite that you can’t help but research a bit to at least try
He appreciates the effort but solemnly admits that he’s tried everything
Hell, his island is known for their doctors and they couldn’t help him
He’s a lost cause like anyone with white lead disease
It’s a fact he accepts
And sadly you do so as well
Your stand only works for you
It’s entire purpose is for its user and not for anyone else
Not versatile or has any multiple uses
At least not that you knew of anyways
So on that factor you can’t do anything
So as you accept that fact you instead focus on spending time with the man
Listening to him get drunk and talk of someone named Kureha
An “old witch” with a stubborn edge and sharp tongue
But also has a kind heart
Someone who became a doctor for a reason, to help others as best she could even if she caused some chaos in the process
An odd one just like him (and you he adds with a smile) someone who didn’t fit in with the crowd
But maybe that was ok
Being different could very much be a curse for several reasons
Especially in a judgmental society that is maintained by the world government
But that otherness was also a blessing
Weirdness serving as a catalyst for so many wonderful things
For new ideas
For stubborn creativity that wouldn’t be snuffed out but instead burn bright
For brining together the people society looked down upon and giving them a chance to rise up
Your stay on the island is coming to a close but despite that Hiriluk doesn’t panic or seem depressed at the thought
Instead he finds happiness in the time still left
The conversations that have been spoken
The time he has left in this world being used for something truly nice
Not just stealing
Instead now truly engaging with life
The spring island your both on is now at its fullest bloom
The place was somewhat famous for how beautiful it was but neither of you had yet to see it
So the day before you go you asked if he’d like to go see it with you before you left
A last hurrah
One that would be spent watching the cherry blossoms in full bloom and have lunch
He agreed
The next morning is spent with him getting snacks of all kinds
Him packing them in a small basket as you lead him with the directions you got from locals
The two of you go up the hill overlooking the light pink trees in full bloom
His hand gripping yours as he goes still in shook
The sight is breath taking
Even the air from your lungs is seemingly sucked out at the sight of the trees in full bloom
The petals gently cascading down like snow around you
Getting stuck in your hair and pooling in his cupped hands
His eyes tear up and stare down at the pink petals
It’s breathtaking
And for the first time in a long while he feels ok
There was no blockage in his chest
Nor the looming grip of death on his shoulders
He felt cured
Like an average man that he always wanted to
The dream of his that died long ago in a doctors office when they said it was incurable
But now as he stares he feels hope
Something igniting in him in place of his Illness
These small fluttering petals had an impact on him just as you had
It cured him somehow
You showing him this magical sight cured him
And now he wanted to do that for others
He wanted to show the people of his bleak winter island this magnificent sight
To see pink instead of the white fluttering snow
To see trees not covered in snow that dampened their beauty
To feel the air escape their lungs
The lunch goes by quickly as does your leaving but both of you do so with a smile
He sets off with a new goal and you wish him luck
Telling him that you believe he’d somehow come up with a solution cause people like the two if you always did somehow
He smiles
When he returns back to his home island he sets out to be a doctor
To help cure others just as you had done with him
Some of The petals he collected that day kept in a small glass jar he kept as a souvenir and for testing
When Kureha calls him crazy he takes the words in pride
Recalling back on your time spent together
That odd little kid who had a spirit beyond their days
One who would humour his ramblings
Took him to that fateful place of blooming Sakura that would go on to change his life course forever
A parting gift in both an experience and in changing his life for the good
So he works on bringing that miracle to the winter island he lives on
Despite how impossible it seems he tries
And he tries and tries
And he keeps going despite how many times he is pushed down by yet another failure
You motivate him
The gift you gave him that he wants to share with others motivated him
His new student that in a lot of ways reminds him of you motivated him
Chopper sometimes still wonders why Hiriluk had taken him in
It lingers on the small reindeer’s mind
And it’s glaringly obvious what he’s thinking making the old “doctor” laugh
“Us weirdo’s have to stick together. I learned that from a friend of mine” as he says this the small blue nosed reindeer watches as the man pulls a framed photo off the wall. In it is him and a child with a large smile. “Hopefully one day you’ll meet them.”
“You…do you think they would accept me?”
Hiriluk let’s our a large laugh at that, clutching his sides as small tears line his eyes “if they hung around a old crazy coot like me then I’m sure they’d love you”
His young apprentice feels hope at his words
Sometimes silently staring at the picture with faint hope that one day he’d meet the doctor-….no his dad’s old friend
Perhaps in the future
But for now he had to help him find a cure
His sickness is getting worse and chopper doesn’t now if he could live with himself if he didn’t find a cure
His only lead as of now is some mushroom that can apparently cure anything
It’s a long shot but he has to try
He gazes as the photo once more
Hiriluk’s smiling face staring back along with your own
He’ll make sure Hiriluk will get to see you again
He promises it
With that the young reindeer sets off in the snow
Whenever you see the cascading petals of cherry blossoms you wonder how that odd doctor was doing
Brook
It was at reverse mountain that you had found yourself being picked up by a particular crew
The rumbar pirates had originated in the west blue
A musical band of jolly singing pirates with instruments of all kinds
All of which varied from different islands and cultures
Brough together in musical harmony
It’s amazing to you how music seems to come to them wordlessly
They play and magic is produced from their songs
So much so a baby whale follows them in their journey and is now waiting for them to return
A promise they intend to keep as the travel the sea like any good crew
Whilst the captain and crew are welcoming and friendly there’s one person in particular your drawn to
Brook is a fun and free soul
Constantly with a smile or chuckling out his odd but charming laugh
The musician teaches you piano as best he can
His hands guiding yours as the crew eagerly watch with bright smiles
Eventually as they sing and dance he has you play side by side with him
Placing his top hat in your head as they all call you “mini brook”
It’s fun
Especially as the giant of a man picks up his violin and lets you play alone
The two of you stringing together a melody that the others join in on
Dancing and singing with slurred speech and jumbled steps
Those nights feel like a haze in your mind
One with a rosy tinted filter overtop those memories
Of the songs sung
The dancing as the crew took turns showing you their groove
Taking your hands into their own and your feet atop theirs as they showed you to dance
But then the music began to die
Despite your many deaths you’d experienced and saw of pirates
This was one that was common yet still chilling
Illness
Honestly with how many ships you’d been on your surprised you’d never experienced a death like this
And it’s certainly one you’d never thought they’d have to suffer through
It starts off as one person
And then it spreads
Brook and the others keep you away from the sight
Telling you that they were just hungover
You don’t tell them you know hangovers don’t last several days
As others being to fall Brook keeps to at least trying to keep the facade of things are fine in front of you
Even as he has to take the place of their captain
He has a good facade
But you hear his sobs at night
For his fallen Crew and the fact it’s still spreading
And for you
By god is he worried for you
They’d all talked of the possibility of having you take your small shipped tied to their own and leave
But they all agree it’s too big of a risk
Their at the middle of the sea, it would be a death sentence if they let you go on your own
They can’t have that happen
Even if there’s still a chance here that you’ll die
There’s still the possibility that at least someone will spot their ship
That help can come and at least rescue you
So for now they have you stay
The symptoms come slowly
You feel more tired
Burning up
Laboured breath
Their all mortified as you one day pass out on deck
When you wake up your tucked into bed
Nearby someone sobs
You recognize his voice and blurred figure despite your senses being dulled
Small shaky hands reach for his
And he reciprocated the action repeating that he’s sorry
That he’s so sorry
That it’s his fault
That he was supposed to keep you safe
You say it isn’t his fault but it falls on deaf ears
He keeps crying even as he coughs
You keep saying it’s alright even as it feels harder to breath
Eventually even though everyone is dead or on the brink of dying they decide to do one last number
One last piece
Binks booze
You sit beside Brook having to lean against him for support as both his and your hands drift along the ivory keys
The songs plays full force
The few left playing the tune
Some cheerfully sing with smiles and dance withe one another
But they fall first
Dying with smiles despite it all
You sing in their place along with those who are left
The singing goes down by one as yet another falls down
Violin clattering to the floor
You sing louder in his place despite how your lungs burn and throat feels as if needles scrape against it
Another violinist goes down after this
Brook shakes beside you
He keeps up a smile
You do so as well but tears escape your eyes
A quartet
The cello goes down
A trio
His smile wavers and tears trail down his face now
He’s breaking
The final goes down now
It’s just you and Brook left, but you feel yourself getting weaker
The edges of your eyes have black dotes and every time you close them it’s harder to open them once more
A duet
You keep playing for his sake
He looks down at you sobbing silently as he continues to play
Their flag waves silently in the wind
“I’m not sure how longer I can play…do you think you can do a solo?”
Tearfully he nods
Playing as you sing
Continuing even after the lyrics stop flowing from your mouth and you slump down into his side
A solo
He cries
Eventually the piano comes to a close
Despite there being no skeleton of you to put with the rest of the memorial Brook doesn’t question it
The sight of Your body disappearing into golden light was just a trick of the mind all those years ago to help with the grief of him failing you
He knows he went insane a long time ago
He’s spent years alone at sea mulling over their deaths, of yours and the promise to Laboon
His mind is long gone as he wanders the old tattered ship that used to be filled with song
Despite it all he tries to put up a mask of being happy
But he never sings
Never plays music
He can’t deal with another solo
Can’t deal with that last performance
Sometimes he thinks of the songs they made
The one the crew made about you that surprisingly got popular
Based off the odd tales of stars you talked about
An undying one
He wonders if it still plays
You remember they made a song about you
It’s long forgotten to the many new sailors of the sea
But on occasion you hear it from old souls. Those who had traveled the seas for many years and had retained the songs and myths now forgotten to the new
The sound of it always makes you smile, but it is tinged with sadness as you do so
Whenever it is sung or Binks Booze you promised yourself you’d always join in
A promise to them, that kind musical crew all those years ago that suffered a horrible death from a bad stroke of luck
You carry their memory along with Laboon
Whenever you end up at reverse mountain you always sing the songs they once did to ease the whales heart ache
It can only do so much but Laboon at least stops jutting against the mountain momentarily
Wanting to one day reunite with those jolly sailors
You wish you could one day do the same
But for now you carry their memories
Their songs that house the remnants of their souls
Sometimes you swear you see their rotting ship
But you always wave it off as missing them
Of delusions of your mind as you stare out into the darkness of the sea
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