╰┈➤ She/her ┊ 21 ┊ Requests : Closed ┊ Sanji, Sabo & Gojo fan girl ┊ Mainly one piece & my writings and more ♡*:･ﾟ
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*:･ﾟ I am on rewatch currently after 5 years. I'm currently in the middle of Egghead. I am into :—
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: Please do not interact if you are not into bl. You will find a lot of bl things as well on my blog. Though, I haven't written any bl ships or anything of the sort but it will be there in my re-blogs. I will start posting about bls soon enough as well.
Summary~ You have something for your lover and he loves it, and he shows appreciation for the gift.
Word count~ 1.2k
☆ Masterlist ☆ Sabo.list ☆ Dividers from @saradika-graphics
You wait for your boyfriend—Sabo in the hallway, he had came back to the base after a mission yesterday, and today, you insisted he spends the day with you. You and he had been on missions non-stop for a while and couldn't spend time with each other. So, finally, when you two are back, you decided this is the time to have some time to yourselves.
You stare out as you wait for him, he seems to be taking long today. A weight suddenly rests on your head, you look up— a top hat. You immediately turn to come face to face with your lover, “Sabo! You took so long”, a pout forms on your lips as you cross your arms.
He presses a kiss to your lips deflating your pout in the matter of mere seconds, “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, my lady”, he replies.
The same ministrations that instantly cool down your anger at him. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle, “Forgiven~ since I'm in a good mood”
Usually, you and Sabo spend the time at rooftop chatting, him writing, you painting and just enjoying yourselves when at the base. That usually sums up your date together on the base, on islands; he takes you to various places for sightseeing.
That's what you both are up to today, ascending up to the rooftop, you both take your usual spot.
Sitting side by side on the cool floor, you both enjoy this rather than some fancy place. He presses another kiss to cheek, his top hat still on your head.
“Don’t you want it back?”, you ask tracing the edge of the black material.
He shakes his head, “No, it looks better on you”, his arms wraps around your waist pulling flush against his side.
You open up your bag rummaging through things, “What are you looking for?”, he asks peeking into your bag in which you usually carried your weapons.
“Just something”, you reply.
“Are you planning on taking me on in a fight or something?”, he asks jokingly.
You nudge his side with your elbow, “No! I'm not. Besides, you never fight with me seriously”
His lips meet your neck this time in a gentler way, “How can I fight full-on with my precious lover?”, he coaxes. His gloved hand tracing your side softly and gently. His movements can be very gently sometimes and that surprises you a lot. Because he didn’t seem like someone who would be so gentle at first.
“Found it!”, you pull out a small box from your bag and hold it out for him.
Sabo looks at it in confusion and blinks, “Isn’t it too early for you to ask for my hand in marri—”
You nudge his side with your elbow again, “Sorry”, he mumbles and clears his throat.
Sabo reaches out, taking the box in his hand, opening it. Inside is two custom made pocket brooch one with Revolutionary Army's symbol as head, with RA in small letters on the other end connected with a chain.
And other one with a black top hat as the head, and goggles on the other end connected with a similar kind of chain.
You knit your brows, waiting for his reaction. Sabo's eyes gleam, his lips curling in a soft smile, he exhales deeply.
“These are so beautiful”, he comments taking one in his gloved hand.
You scoot closer to him, “You like it?”
“I love them”, his eyes gleaming with appreciation.
You take the top hat pocket brooch from his grasp, “Can I?”, reaching out to put in over his coat's chest pocket.
He nods.
You secure the brooch on the material of his coat, admiring the way it looks on him for a moment. A smile forms on your face.
“You really spoil me with gifts like these”, he let's out a small chuckle.
“Do I?”
“Yeah. The amount of neckties you have bought me is insane.”
“I didn't buy that many”
“You did! Oh, and the scarfs?! You bought me a lot of those as well”, he says.
“I just bought 2 of them, Sabo. That's not a lot”
“Wristwatches! Also, bracelets, books, pens! You spoil me, sweetheart”, you nudge his side again and he let's out another soft chuckle at the action.
“That's just a fraction of what you do for me”, you mumble to yourself more than him.
He hums softly, “Hm?”
“Nothing!”
Sabo leans in, his gloved hand resting on the floor by your side, his face is hovering above yours.
The scent of him fills in your senses— metallic, something sweet, salty from sea, and raw.
His lips almost meet yours, centimeters away from yours. His gray eyes remains on you as he inhales, you can feel him exhale against you.
Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, even though it's been months since your relationship, you still feel the same excitement run through your veins whenever he gets close.
You leap onto his lips, pressing yours against his. The top hat slips off your head and land softly on the floor behind you.
The kiss is soft, gentle, and slow. One of his gloved hand comes up to cup the back of your head as he deepens the kiss with an excruciating slow pace as if savoring the moment.
So unlike him.
His kisses are never this soft, he loves the thrill of raw, intense and savoring kisses. However, for some reason, today, his kiss feels like a slow warm morning.
He pulls away slightly to catch his breathe, his face still close to yours.
He trails open lip kisses down your neck slowly, his gloved hand on your head moves down to play with the collar of your top.
“Are we taking it back to the room?”, you ask letting out a gasp as his lips press against your collarbone.
Sabo hums in a low tone, “No”, he replies.
“Your actions say otherwise though”
Sabo looks up at you with a softer gaze, the kind that makes your heart melt.
He captures your lips into another kiss, knocking out the air from you, another slow, and gentle movements of his tongue against yours. His gloved hand moves from your collar to your jaw, rubbing it gently with care whilst kissing you.
He huffs against your lips nibbling on your lower lip for a moment before capturing your lips into soft another kiss.
This time, he pulls away in a second, he exhales against you.
“I—”
He let's out a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. Your feel the heat radiating off him.
“I hate how loved you make me feel”, he admits.
You let a soft sigh, fingers running through his blonde hair, he leans into your touch subconsciously letting his gloved hand guide yours while the other one stays on the floor on your side.
“You deserve every bit of it”
You pull back from his forehead to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
He looks at you with gleaming soft gaze as you pull away, one hand entangled in his hair. His hair shines golden under the sunlight.
“Do you hate me?”
“Why would I be in a relationship with you if I hated you?”, you reply.
He let's out another chuckle, not the soft kind he usually does but rather a crackling kind, “Mhm right”
“I love you”, he murmurs passionately to you.
“I love you too”
A/n~ Just something that was sitting in my drafts for 2 months. It's time to take out my drafts I guess. I just edited it a bit.
Okay, we all know Sabo regained his memories and stuff yeah? So it's gotta affect how he sees things and how he behaves now right?
But sabo didn't expect it to change his relationship with you(aka reader)
And now, he is perplexed whether he should let you in on his memories or not.
Because when you got to know, you said it didn't really matter as long as it doesn't affect your relationship but you start seeing changes in Sabo which do affect your relationship with him. Now, you will have to confront him about it.
sabo, if i had one word i had to use to describe him overall, itd be altruistic (definition: "having or showing an unselfish concern for the welfare of others." [LINK]) i know how this seems lmao. cliche and cheesy and stupid. thats a dumb word jax, its overused, why?
allow me to explain
sabo, overall, is an idealist. he has his mind set on a world he knows he will never achieve, but he still works to achieve it.
and what is that world he aims to achieve? a world where everyone is free without injustice. a world where nobody has to be looked down upon. a world where everyone is on equal footing.
and every mission, even if he can never accomplish that, he becomes one step closer
and he has never, not even once, been shown to be looking for something in return for his work. he is pushing toward that goal to see the world become a place of unity. where nobody can be crushed under others.
and no matter how hard the government tries to stop him from achieving that dream, he will keep trying to fight for it, even if he knows its impossible. he is determined, with the right motivations to make change, even if it comes to the extent of his own life.
and thats something that makes sabo such an interesting character to me.
he has such strong morale, and hes seen as the face of the RA for a reason. he is the exact definition of what the RA is aspiring for. sabo aims to tear down capitalism and provide peace and unity for everybody.
the word "justice" has become such a corrupt word in one piece, and the RA aims to fix that, and provide an acute example of what justice truly is. and OUGH if i dont love that
SONGS.
okay. OKAY im sorry im a music geek, but i promise this will make sense ....
using songs to represent a character and get a good understanding of who they are & making playlists for them is my favorite thing ever. and oh you KNOW im gonna break ts down
the most recent song ive listened to that just screams sabo at me is "harpy hare" by yaelokre. (popular song ,,,, sue me im sorry .... i love it sm)
“Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say. Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say.”
personally, in relation to sabo, i perceive these lines as sabo when he was a young child, hiding in the mountains with ace and luffy. he was avoiding his family as we know, afraid if being caught, while his parents were doing everything in their power to find him.
“All the arrows that you've stolen. Split in half, now bum and broken. Like your heart that was so eager to be hid.”
i interpret this as him being afraid to go home, not wanting to return to a lifestyle that wasnt right for him. the environment harmed him and he did not want to go back.
“You can't keep them all caged. They will fight and run away. Mother, tell me, so I say (la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la)”
later on im going to go into detail that sabo is heavily themed after birds. this line i use to suggest hes like a caged bird. sabo also fought tooth(heh) and nail to get away from his parents for a multitude of reasons as well.
“Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say. Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say.” (repeat of prev line, no comment.)
“Forest walls and starry ceilings, barren curtains that you're weaving, like the stories that you keep inside your head.”
i interpret this as sabo building his bonds with ace and luffy, keeping the built up hate and anger for his parents and the hierarchy to himself ^^
“She can't keep them all safe. They will die and be afraid. Mother, tell me, so I say (mother, tell me, so I say)”
i can see this line in both reference to dadan and/or dragon, though primarily dadan here.
“Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say. Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say. Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say. Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children? Tell me, so I say! (Tell me, so I say!)”
majorly a repeat, but it gets more rushed and angry, which i use to interpret as sabos urgency and anger to get out of goa, and away from his parents.
“She can't keep them all caged. They'll be far and fly away. Mother, tell me you will stay. We'll be far and fly away.”
sabo finally leaves goa. heh.... gulp. 🔥💥
heres another song i associate with him :) (digital silence by peter mcpoland)
i mostly associate this song with his hatred with the patriarchy and just the WG in general, though i do believe it could be interpreted in other ways??? maybe. but.. governmet :)
im not really going to go into heavy detail on this song since i dont want to make this too long though. harpy hare was the primary one i wanted to focus on
and one last song i heavily associate with sabo is control baby by jhariah:
this is also a song i associate with him because of his childhood LMAO. but just listen and youll literally understand i think.
also. so many alex g songs fit sabo imo... okay sorry ill stfu about music now
ps i DO have an entire playlist dedicated to sabo. okay yay this section is over
THEMES.
yay! we are here! finally. ooh ive been wanting to get into this one so bad.
BIRDS.
sabo is so heavily themed after birds in canon, and it always brings me back to the phrase "freebird" (which i always associate with something else which ill get into later...heh).
his dragon claw, yes names after a dragon also looks similar to a birds talons. its only named the dragon claw because dragon himself created it, but i believe that if sabo had created it himself he might would name it something in relation to birds.
also, sabo is commonly seen with birds. theres an official art that im not going to dig for right now that has him on a ship with a white bird flying next to him.
NOT TO MENTION!!!! WHITE DOVES MEAN PEACE!??? 🕊️???!!!!! okay sorry.
also, im pretty sure this was during lulusia but i could be wrong, sabo is shown sitting on one of karasus soot birds in order to leave the area.
birds.....BIRDS .....
"but jax! you said you didnt mention something yet that you associate freebirds with!"
heh. thanks for asking, reader....
i associate the phrase freebird with the phrase freefall :).
but lets not get into that just yet.
rather, lets look into sabos choice of clothing, why dont we?
how is this a theme, you may ask? well, hes always seen in overall similar outfits. victorian-esque, long and flowy.... eh im not good at knowing clothing styles, but ykwim. anyways,
he also dressed very similar to how he dressed as a child. to be exact, he usually wears outfits that are very similar to his exact outfit as a kid. this COULD mean nothing. but it could also mean hes still tied down to his past in a way he just cant get out of.
:)
okay thats enough i think. i may change this later though if i think of anything else.
ENVIRONMENTAL STUDY.
sabo ran away from his home when he was five, running into the gray terminal and meeting ace. that means he endured ~4-5 years of abuse from his parents.
and i mean abuse literally. sabos mother canonically slapped him across the face for the mere assumption that sabo had bothered another child, not to mention that sabo was already injured prior to this after his father assumedly pushes his chair over. whether intentional or not he paid no mind to sabo kneeled over in the fetal position in pain.
not to mention the mental turmoil he mustve been forced through because of his parents pressure forcing him to be smart.....
so obviously, theres so much room for trauma just right there in general.
i also highly believe that living in the forest for ~7 years did things to fuck him, ace, and luffy(though less time for luffy) up in general. they lived in a fucking forest with giant beasts. i know its fiction so obviously it affects them differently than itd affect a real person, but still.
anyways, ace would be his own huge post on how horrible his childhood was, but im focusing on SABOOO so.
sabo had the fear of being brought back to an abusive household, and we are led to believe his childhood was so bad that living in a forest with giant animals and little to no food unless you hunt it yourself is better than going back. i mean, come on.
oda is just waving the flag in our faces.
anyways, moving on,,, after he took out to sea, he was obviously shot down by celestial dragons as soon as he set off.
yada yada, shit happened, kid got burnt really, really bad. then he wakes up in an area he doesnt recognize with no recollection of who he is or what hes doing there.
nothing.
he has no memory. all he really knows is he fucking hates the government, which is. wow.
just put yourself in his shoes, not remembering who you are, only having a deep, unbridling anger for something you dont believe can ever be taken down.
you dont remember who you are, your childhood, anything about yourself.
you dont know where you are or why youre there
all you know is that you fucking hate the government that reigns over you.
thats what sabo went through, and dragon offered him an opportunity to change that. an opportunity to rip the government down.
of course sabod take that opportunity. thats all he really had.
CAUSE & EFFECT.
leading from the previous points into this one, i believe sabo has some sort of dissociative personality disorder, or even a split personality disorder. which one or to what extent, i have no clue. but sabo canonically has amnesia. retrograde amnesia. which is very commonly paired with dissociative amnesia(aka psychogenic amnesia) (RETROGRADE AMNESIA LINK wikipedia).
retrograde summary:
a form of amnesia where someone cannot remember certain events before a disease or injury happened.
i specifically believe sabo has pure retrograde amnesia, which is often caused by physical trauma to the head.
dissociative amnesia on the otherhand, is said to be caused by "sudden retrograde episodic memory loss, said to occur for a period of time ranging from hours to years to decades." (DISSOCIATIVE AMNESIA LINK wikipedia).
reading the link provided aswell also sounds quite like sabo, as he had no idea who he was. dragon reminded him of his name, yet little was said about his origin, which is why sabo didnt know anything about ace and luffy until, well.
anyways, i saw a tumblr post (which i cannot find for the life of me. i searched and scavenged so far and came up empty. i am so sorry to whoever originally had this idea. PLEASE send me the post and ill link it here) going into detail on how they believed that after realizing ace had died and he regained his memories, sabos personality likely changed heavily, and perhaps gotten a bit more angry and aggressive.
and personally? i completely agree. but id like to build on that even more.
sabo completely lost his memory. he had no idea who he was for ~8 years of his life, and thus he built a new identity off of the revolutionaries as a whole. he had no idea who he was in the first 12 years of his life.
after aces death, this clearly sparked sabos memory, causing sabo to remember his childhood. we arent sure how much of his childhood he remembers after this, but if we assume its a great deal of his adventures with ace and luffy as the bare minimum, hes obviously going to recognize the differences in who he once was and who hes become.
so, i think this would cause his mind to divide. the trauma from his injuries as a child and his brothers sudden death and an influx of memories is more than enough trauma and stress to completely divide his mind, which is why i believe he'd have a split personality disorder.
dont get me wrong, hes still sabo. he was still raised as sabo when he lost his memories. but theres just two different versions of him.
the child who never got to grow up, who was already so angry at the world and only had a soft spot for his two brothers.
and the person who was raised as if he was already fully grown because he had to be for his job. he was working since twelve and thats all he knows about his childhood.
working with the revolutionaries, sabo became a lot more soft-spoken and open to making friends with the other revolutionaries,
while when he was a kid, before losing his memories, he was completely closed off to anyone who wasnt luffy or ace.
hes similar to how he was yes, but hes also different. a completely different person.
and the sudden remembrance of who he was can do a lot to confuse his brain.
i also heavily believe that hed have some form of ptsd from reverie.
not only was sabo exposed to such baffling information, finding out that there already was a king of the world sitting on the throne of pangaea castle, but it was instantly followed by someone who he was trying to protect dying in his arms.
and he was exposed to the powers of a devil fruit that was incomprehensible, there was no possible way for him to understand how the devil fruit worked or why it was so utterly mortifying.
also, going to mention, he has repeatedly witness the government rip the humanity from one of his old friends and coworkers, turning his friend into a mindless robot, as well as creating clones. the government was already a force he despised, and they continued to shred one of sabos friends who he practically grew up (since 12) with, into a literal weapon. not even a human weapon. kumas humanity was completely removed, other than obviously the implemented feature to protect bonney at all costs.
sabo has been exposed to hideous acts from the government & nobles in general since he was born. hell, he was intended to be a noble.
which, also, might i add... after regaining his memories when he was ~19-20ish, theres a chance he also remembered he was a noble, which couldve also crashed his mental state alongside the shock of aces death. he was born as exactly what he sought to destroy.
might i pivot and add, he wasnt there for aces death. if he was there, he couldve saved ace and ace would still be alive. theres no way sabo doesnt blame himself. had he remembered ace and luffy sooner, ace mightve never died.
i mean, oda showed us a panel of an alternate universe where sabo saves ace and luffy from marineford.
he couldve. but he didnt. he couldnt. because he didnt remember his brothers.
his childhood was ssoooo fucked up...
PERSONALITY.
sabo, overall, is kind. he puts others before himself, which is shown when he still tried to save cobra from reverie.
but sabo also knows when hes fighting a losing battle. cobra told sabo to leave because he was practically already dead. sabo still fought, even knowing it would likely result in his own death.
it was until cobra practically forced sabo to just leave him that sabo left and escaped without him, leaving cobra.
and even then, the government framed sabo as the slaughterer. sabo was framed for the murder of a man he was trying to protect. and as the face of the revolutionary army, that was not a good look for him.
hes a very complex character, which are some of my favorite characters to delve into. and it disappoints me how oda doesnt really delve into that? he provides us enough for us as the fandom to look into these characters ourselves though, which i suppose is enough, though.
and even though hes the chief of staff of the revolutionary army, hes still very silly, and even a bit rude at times because he has his own personality.
he hangs up the transponder snail when someones talking mid sentence.
he'll do things without telling anybody, like in dressrosa when he pretended to be luffy/lucy in the coliseum.
hes rude. hes silly. hes his own complex character who has changed over time.
we also see that he can really take things seriously as well when he has to, post-reverie when hes talking with dragon and iva on what he saw at pangaea castle.
he cares about others safety which is why he tried to save cobra.
hes also extremely emotional. he sobbed seeing what happened to kuma. he was so, so extremely angry. he broke down into tears after ace died. he is an emotional person.
i WANT to put him under a microscope and dissect him so bad. which is kind of what im doing right now. but i digress.
KEY POINTS & PERSONAL THOUGHTS I WANT TO JOT DOWN.
sabos childhood was overall hell. he was in an abusive household that was bad enough to cause him to run away and live in a forest.
not only was it a mental toll on him with all of the pressure his family pushed onto him, but he was also physically harmed.
his memories being stripped from him is something i really want to have focused on his character, especially how his life was altered after he regained those memories.
i mean, even when he lost his memories, he only had his motor functions and his feelings on the government left. everything else was up to him to completely rebuild from scratch. and then suddenly, he was regiven the old building blocks he had.
like a game of jenga. he had a tower. then it was stolen. he started building a new one, got pretty good distance on it, and then his old one was returned to him. thus, he had two towers. now, instead of blocks of wood, change it to his thoughts and feelings.
i dont really have much to add anymore, but if i do have anything else to add, i might edit or reblog this post with the new thoughts.
i also do have minor headcanons in relation to his personal identity, though this mostly is a character study & my interpretations of what we've seen. i might reblog this with headcanons on his personal identity and how i believe he views himself, but im not sure. probably wont be today.
hope you guys like my aggressive rambling LMAO
feel free to leave comments regarding questions, or if you want to have an indepth conversation, feel free to dm me on here or discord ^_^ i love yapping i am The Yapper™
Summary: “You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me.”
Song: Die For You - The Weeknd
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
The wind off the New World carried the scent of salt, damp cedar, and something faintly sweet—the last remnants of a barrel of West Blue rum cracked open three islands back.
You sat on the edge of the Red Force’s figurehead, your boots dangling over the dark, churning expanse of the ocean. The night was a vast, velvet ceiling pricked with unfamiliar constellations, the kind of stars that only seemed to burn brighter the closer you got to the edge of the map.
Behind you, the muffled sounds of the crew’s late-night carousing drifted from the main deck—Benn Beckman’s dry, gravelly chuckle, Lucky Roux’s booming laugh as he stole another piece of meat from the pantry, and Yasopp strumming a lazy, off-key tune on his battered acoustic guitar.
Footsteps crunched softly on the wood behind you, heavy and familiar. You didn’t need to turn around to know the rhythmic, slightly lurching cadence of them.
A heavy woolen cloak settled over your shoulders, smelling instantly and overwhelmingly of him: cheap tobacco, sea spray, and the rich, intoxicating warmth of sake. A moment later, the figurehead shifted as a large, solid weight settled beside you.
Shanks didn’t speak right away. He mirrored your posture, leaning back on his palms, his one good arm taking most of his weight. The red hair that tumbled loosely around his shoulders caught the pale moonlight, glowing like embers in a dying hearth.
"You're going to catch a chill out here," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that always managed to settle deep into your chest. "And if you get sick, Beckman is going to lecture me for three days straight about crew welfare. Have mercy on me."
You offered a small, fond smile, pulling the cloak tighter around yourself. "Benn only lectures you because you never listen to him the first time."
"Guilty as charged," Shanks chuckled, a low vibration in his chest. He reached into his coat with his left hand, pulled out a flask of sake, and uncorked it with his teeth. He took a long swallow, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm, before offering the metal flask to you.
You took it, feeling the residual warmth of his hand still lingering on the cool metal. The alcohol burned pleasantly all the way down, chasing away the damp bite of the midnight air.
"Penny for your thoughts," Shanks said softly, turning his head to look at you. His dark eyes, usually gleaming with the restless fire of a man who owned the horizon, were entirely soft.
Stripped of the terrifying aura he projected when the Marines or rival Yonko came sniffing around, he was just a man with too many scars, a straw hat on his back, and a heart that he wore far too openly on his sleeve for someone in his line of work.
"Just thinking about how far we've come," you admitted, swirling the liquid left in the bottom of the flask. "From that dingy tavern in the East Blue to… whatever this is. The edge of the world."
Shanks followed your gaze out toward the endless horizon, where the sea met the night sky in a seamless, ink-black blur. A faint, reminiscent smile touched the corners of his lips. A three-inch scar across his left eye wrinkled as he grinned.
"Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?" he said. "Sometimes I look back and wonder how a reckless bastard like me ever managed to survive long enough to meet you. Fate must have a twisted sense of humor."
"Or infinite patience," you countered, nudging his shoulder with yours.
Shanks laughed, a rich, full-bodied sound that seemed to chase away the chill of the open ocean. He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers gently cupping your jawline.
His thumb brushed softly over your cheekbone, tracing the skin with a reverence that always caught you off guard, no matter how many years you’d spent by his side.
You leaned instinctively into his touch, closing your eyes for a brief second to savor the friction of his rough skin against yours. When you opened them again, his gaze had darkened, losing its playfulness.
There was a raw, aching intensity in his dark eyes that made your breath catch in your throat.
"You know," Shanks began, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, competing only with the wash of the waves against the hull. He paused, searching your face as if he were trying to memorize every single line, every expression, etching it permanently into his soul. "I’ve chased a lot of things in my life. Freedom. Power. Laughter. The kind of adventures that poets write songs about for centuries."
He shifted closer, the heat radiating off his broad chest pressing against your side. The empty sleeve of his red coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, a stark reminder of the violent world he inhabited, and the countless times he had bled just to keep standing on two feet.
"I've stood on islands of gold, and I’ve watched the sun set over seas that would make ordinary men weep," he continued, his thumb still rhythmically tracing your cheek. "I’ve had everything the world has to offer laid out at my feet."
His voice cracked ever so slightly, a rare vulnerability breaking through the iron facade of one of the strongest men alive.
"And yet… none of it meant a damn thing until you walked into my life."
Your heart skipped a beat, a sudden, heavy warmth blooming in your chest. You opened your mouth to tease him, to deflect with some dry remark the way you usually did when things got too earnest, but the words died on your tongue when you looked into his eyes. There was no joking there. Only absolute, unwavering truth.
Shanks leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. His breath, smelling faintly of sweet rice wine and sea salt, mingled with yours.
“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me,” he whispered, the words slipping out of him like a confession long overdue.
The weight of them hung in the salt-heavy air, more powerful than any Haki he could ever project.
You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, right where the familiar scent of him was strongest.
You felt his good arm wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him, as if he were terrified that if he let go, the wind would snatch you away into the dark ocean.
"You're an idiot, Red-Haired Shanks," you murmured against his skin, though your voice trembled with emotion.
"Yeah," he breathed out, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss into your hair, right above your ear. "Your idiot."
Down on the deck, Yasopp struck a louder chord on his guitar, and a chorus of drunken, roaring laughter erupted from the crew as Lucky Roux presumably told another terrible joke. The world out there was dangerous, unpredictable, and cruel. It was a world of monsters and Marines, of shifting tides and eternal war.
But sitting there, wrapped in his red cloak and held safely against his beating heart, the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. . . .
Ace kissed you again before you’d properly caught your breath, one hand braced beside your head while the other dragged you closer by the waist. Heat poured from him even without his devil fruit, trapped between your bodies in the cramped space.
A crate was digging into your shoulder though you really couldn’t find it in your heart to care. His hand slid under your shirt and the warmth pulled a small moan from you before you could stop it.
Ace chuckled and you tugged on his hair in response, drawing a rough sound from his throat.
Two could play at that game.
Although… something felt off.
You pulled back and Ace followed you for a moment before he saw your face. You rolled your tongue around your mouth to find the strange object where it had lodged against your teeth and plucked it out.
A petal?
White with a brush of yellow toward the centre and charred at the edges. You frowned down at it and then looked at Ace with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you eating flowers?”
“Hey, it was in your mouth.”
“So was your tongue which is presumably how it got there.”
Ace squinted at the petal on your finger and then shrugged. “I don’t know where it came from.”
“You’ve been coughing weirdly the whole day. Did you breathe in something you shouldn’t have?”
“No? Maybe it just blew into my mouth.”
“Without you noticing?”
“It’s possible.”
You flicked the strange little thing onto the ground with a shrug. You didn’t think that was possible but stranger things had been true before. And Ace did sleep with his mouth open on deck far more than the average person.
You rejoined your lips to his, the heat of his breath melting away any concerns you’d had.
Temporarily.
A week later, you were lounging on his bed when the problem arrived again.
The first cough was small enough that your hand found his back before you were properly awake, rubbing between his shoulders on instinct. The second came harder and rougher, coupled with a short, gasping breath like he was choking on something.
Ace rarely woke up quickly but his eyes flew open as he struggled to get his breath through the spluttering coughs.
It would be stupid to ask if he was okay and yet in your panic it was the only question that came to mind. You sat up in the bed, rubbing his shoulders as he coughed and gasped. Should you run to Marco? You didn’t know if he’d be awake yet but -
Ace coughed hard and wet petals landed across your legs and the bed. He finally managed a normal breath and rubbed at his chest.
“The hell?”
You picked up one of the petals. Some were burnt but they were all the same colour. White with a brush of yellow toward the centre.
“You’re coughing up more of these?”
Ace pulled a face. “Yeah. Been having it for a few days. I can burn them away though.”
“Clearly not.”
He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. “I was asleep. Anyway, it’s probably allergies or something.”
“I don’t think allergies cause you to throw up flower petals,” you pointed out.
He shrugged and stretched. “What time is it anyway?”
“Probably close to sunrise,” you said. “Have you spoken to Marco about it?”
“Why?”
“Because healthy people aren’t bringing up flowers and almost choking to death on them,” you pointed out.
You swung your legs from the bed, mourning the loss of comfort for only a second before you held out a hand. Ace stared at you as though you were asking him to jump overboard. You waited.
He sighed and took your hand, allowing you to drag him out of the bed. You didn’t bother changing, just grabbed one of your coats and marched out of the room. Luckily, Marco’s door was only a few steps away and he opened it immediately.
“Yes?”
“Ace thinks allergies are making him cough up flower petals.”
“Hey! I was just saying maybe it was that.”
Marco looked past you toward Ace and sighed. “Let’s go to my office. I can examine him much better there.”
Ace made a complaining sound. “Come on, it’s not that bad. We can talk about it in the morning.”
“It is morning, yoi.”
Marco had already stepped out of his room. His expression was unmoving but you doubted he would insist on an immediate evaluation if it wasn’t serious enough. You wrapped the coat better around yourself and gave Ace a slightly smug look.
He rolled his eyes but his palm stayed warm against your own.
Marco’s office was always chaotic, and for once you were grateful for it. Bottles crowded the shelves, papers had taken over most of the desk and there were enough half-open drawers to keep your eyes occupied while you stood to the side, waiting for an answer as Marco listened to Ace’s lungs.
“Is this why you’ve been coughing so much over the past few days?” he asked.
Ace answered with a small hum. “It hasn’t been that bad. I burn them away when they start getting annoying. I thought maybe somebody had started growing a plant somewhere.”
Marco looked unimpressed. “And all the petals wound up in your lungs?”
“Where else would they come from?”
“Maybe a devil fruit?” you suggested.
“That would make things easier. No, they’re growing in there, yoi,” Marco said. He stepped away from Ace’s back and draped the stethoscope around his neck. “It’s a disease. A rare one but they’re coming from inside of him.”
You raised an eyebrow at Ace. “Didn’t know you’d taken up a hobby in gardening.”
“What? Are they fire-resistant or something?” he complained.
“Probably not but they’re growing consistently enough that not all of them are burning. That’s not a good thing. You incinerating them means it’s progressed more than it should have without anybody noticing.”
“What if I just burn it all away?”
“Burn as many as you like,” Marco said. “They’ll come back.”
You crossed your arms. “So, what’s the cure?”
“Something I should talk to Ace about alone.”
You pressed your lips together, concerned enough to want to stay. You glanced toward Ace who plucked a petal from his mouth and immediately burned it between his fingers.
“Alright,” you relented. “I’ll see you later, Ace.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry about spitting petals all over you.”
“Could have been worse. At least they’re not deadly or anything.”
You didn’t like the expression on Marco’s face when you said that but you didn’t ask for clarification.
You presumed Ace would talk to you about it later in the morning. He didn’t. He was actually surprisingly quiet which did nothing for your anxiety even if he still took the seat next to you and inhaled his breakfast at a somewhat normal rate.
Normal for him. Not for the average person.
“So, about the flowers -”
“Not now.”
You sighed. “Why not?”
“Cause I don’t want everybody to know about it.”
“Is there something wrong with having a weird disease?”
“Kind of.”
You stared at him before deciding not to push it. You shuffled your food around your plate, appetite fading. Could it be deadly? You supposed in a normal person, choking on a petal was not the best way to go but Ace really could just burn away the problem. Even if it kept coming back.
“Stop worrying so much,” he said. “You don’t have it.”
“Could I catch it?”
“Probably not.”
“Probably is not really reassuring.”
He shrugged and tried a half smile that didn’t quite land. “Marco said in a normal person, it’s pretty noticeable even from the start. So, you’d know if you did.”
“What does it look like at the start?”
“Like one petal every few days.”
“How many are you getting a day?”
“Don’t know. Gotta measure today without burning them.”
You glanced toward his mouth on instinct. “How many have you had so far?”
He shifted in his seat and reached for your untouched plate. “A few.”
That… wasn’t reassuring. Contagious or not.
“Are you going to take the day off?”
“No point. It’s going to keep happening,” he said with a shrug. “Might as well get used to it.”
“Didn’t Marco say there was a cure?” you asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then…”
“Not worth the risk,” he muttered around a mouthful.
You weren’t sure you trusted Ace, of all people, saying something wasn’t worth the risk. The man regularly threw himself into danger without a second’s hesitation but now he wanted to act conservative? Were the flowers starting to get into his brain or something?
You shoved the rest of your plate over to him. Maybe you should ask Marco. He probably wouldn’t tell you the details but if anybody was able to convince Ace…
“What happens if you don’t treat it?”
“The flowers will get bigger. But I can burn a few flowers. Stop worrying.”
You lowered your voice. “Ace, this is clearly more serious than you’re telling me. You look like somebody’s sentenced you to an execution.”
“I’m just tired. We woke up stupidly early this morning.”
“I’ve seen you tired. You look worse.”
“Yeah. I have stuff to do today, okay? I can worry about whatever this is later.”
He pushed himself away from the table and walked out of the hall. You weren’t the only one who watched him leave. Half the hall tracked him with their eyes in confusion. Breakfast wasn’t nearly done yet.
You glanced back at your not-empty plate and frowned.
No. You weren’t going to leave it.
Marco shook his head before you even caught up with him on his way across the deck. “Ace’s condition is not for me to talk to you about, yoi.”
“He won’t tell me anything.”
“His choice.”
You hurried to keep pace, sighing. “Come on Marco, you know he’s not talking to me and I’m worried.”
“Naturally. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you about it without his consent.”
“Is it contagious?”
“No.”
“Is it fatal?”
“It can be if it’s not treated. I think Ace benefits from his natural state enough that he should have better odds than most but I don’t know how far it’s progressed.”
“He said the cure is risky.”
“That’s his opinion.”
“You don’t think so?”
Marco stopped and you trotted to a halt next to him, only just realising how fast you’d been walking to try and keep up. He looked at you, incredibly unimpressed though you weren’t sure if it was with you or with the situation in general.
“I’m not going behind his back yet,” he said. “I won’t tell you about it without Ace even present. If you want to know what’s going on, I recommend you speak to him about it.”
“About a potentially deadly disease that he thinks has a risky cure.”
“If he thinks it’s risky, that’s his choice, yoi. But yes, it can be fatal if he ignores it indefinitely.”
“Which he is going to do.”
Marco’s expression told you exactly what you needed to know even if he didn’t say it. Dread curled awfully in your stomach. The sunrays felt suddenly cold against your skin.
“Maybe Pops can help convince him,” you suggested.
“He asked me not to speak to Pops. I’ll only do so if the condition proves to be bad after a few days’ observation.”
“What should I look out for? I’m around him the most.”
“I’ve told him the symptoms. He will let me know.”
“Marco…”
“The best advice I can give you is to try and talk to him. Beyond that, you’re not getting anything from me.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “Until he drops dead from stubbornness?”
“I will intervene before that happens.”
You knew Marco was right. That didn’t make it any better when you also knew Ace was coughing up enough flower petals to choke a normal person. And if you pushed too hard, he was more likely to burst into flame than admit anything.
“Is it causing him pain?”
“Most likely. Flowers aren’t supposed to be inside your body. His flames cannot remove the discomfort.”
Great. That made it so much worse. Who else did you have that could talk to him that he wouldn’t have banned Marco from speaking to…
“You know, for two people who claim their relationship is purely casual, you’re very insistent on this.”
You rolled your eyes. “Ace’s thing.”
“Is it?”
“He wanted a casual situation where we stay friends and just… it doesn’t matter. We’re still friends, okay? It’s normal to worry when you’re telling me he might end up dying because he won’t accept a cure.”
Marco stared at you for a fraction too long before he sighed. “Talk to him.”
“He won’t tell me anything.”
“Keep trying, yoi. There’s a reason the two of you get along so well.”
He continued walking and you briefly considered following him before you turned on your heel. Fine. If that’s what you were working with, that’s what you’d work with. You could get Ace to explain it.
Probably.
With enough persistence.
And you had an idea Marco would give you a break if your work wasn’t quite completed for the rest of the day. There were more important things.
Namely that Ace was sulking in his room.
“I thought you had stuff to do.”
He startled which was also suspicious. Because any other day, Ace would have smiled at you randomly appearing. Now, he jumped as though he’d seen a ghost. You didn’t enter yet, unsure if he wanted you to.
“I do,” he said. “Counting petals, apparently.”
“And how many are you on?”
“Not that many.”
“Ace…”
“It doesn’t matter, okay?” he said, trying to smile. “I’m not that sick. See. Stop worrying yourself so much.”
“Marco said it was fatal.”
His expression fell immediately, torn between anger and panic. “What?! Why would he tell you that? He wasn’t meant to - what else did he say?”
“Because I chased him around the deck and nagged. You’re clearly ill. I wanted to know how bad it was. What was the treatment he told you about? It can’t be risky enough that you would prefer to die.”
“I’m not going to die.”
“What if you do?”
“I’m fine. It’s just a plant.”
You walked a step inside and he immediately took a step away. You froze. The pain of rejection hurt more than you cared to admit. Ace never moved away from you. Not once in all the time you’d spent with him.
“How can I help? I can check for petals or…?”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m fine, okay. Don’t worry about it.”
You looked around the room and then sat down right where you had been standing, crossing your legs. He stared at your spot on the floor.
“Come on,” he complained
“I’m waiting.”
He opened his mouth as though to protest but before he could fully get the sentence out, he coughed slightly. He covered his mouth. You stared, tapping your nails against the floor. He coughed again, muffled.
“Marco said you had to count them,” you said. “So don’t burn them.”
He narrowed his eyes over his hand. The next cough caused him to wince but then another began deep in his chest. The sounds made you wince. They rasped as he heaved in a breath before a proper fit started. Two petals fell from his hand, splattering onto the floor.
When he caught his breath again, he flicked his wrist and they all landed in front of you.
You counted them with your eyes.
“Nine,” you said.
“Twelve,” he muttered, his throat raw.
Three more were stuck to his palm still. He peeled them off and tossed them to the ground.
“This can’t be comfortable,” you protested. “Come on, Ace. The cure can’t be more dangerous than what you did literally a week ago against that Marine group.”
He ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “I don’t need to do anything to fix it if it isn’t a problem.”
“Not a problem?” you asked, looking over the evidence on the ground.
“It’s only dangerous if they’re full flowers,” he said. “But the petals are small so… the flowers probably are too.”
You looked at them and shrugged. “Great. So you’ll choke on ten rather than five.”
He stared and then sat down across from you, his legs crossed. “If I do what Marco wants then there’s a cost, okay? And I don’t think it’s worth it. Not because of a little coughing.”
“It’ll get worse.”
“I can burn them. It’ll be fine.”
“Does it hurt?”
Ace winced and shrugged a shoulder. “Kind of. It’s more uncomfortable than anything.”
You noticed it. He was an awful liar. He looked antsy when the topic was brought up but you didn’t press on it. You supposed it was a stupid question. There were literal petals splattered across the ground that proved his answer.
“I’m staying here tonight,” you said.
“I don’t know if I - “
“Not for that,” you said. “To make sure you don’t choke to death in your sleep.”
His expression softened and he sighed. “If it makes you feel better.”
“It doesn’t,” you said. “There’s no cost worth your life, you know that right? Literally nothing.”
“There’s plenty.”
“No.”
Ace adjusted himself. “I’m not going to die so it’s not worth risking it for a maybe. It’ll be uncomfortable for a while and then it’ll probably go away. What if I go for the cure and it doesn’t work? Then I lose something and it doesn’t even fix the disease.”
“Did Marco say it could go away?”
“He said maybe?”
“Maybe.”
“He said it was possible but he’s never heard of it.”
You wanted to flick his shoulder for that. If he didn’t already look like one wrong movement would make him scramble, you would have. What kind of stupid…
“That’s not…”
“Can you please drop it.”
The sharp edge of his tone made you breathe out through your nose.
Ace looked genuinely stressed. You hated how you could see the irritation brimming under his skin. He was barely suppressing his usual technique of hiding nervousness behind anger because snapping would be snapping at you.
You appreciated it enough to leave it. “Alright,” you said. “I’ll drop it for now.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Some water,” he said. “My throat feels raw.”
You stood up and nodded, stepping back into the hall. You tried to ignore how much your hands shook. The panic settled uncomfortably in your chest, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. Tears pricked at your eyes and you wiped them away before they could fall.
He would be alright. He had to be alright.
Marco said he would intervene if it got too bad and Ace wouldn’t just die for no reason. You had to repeat it to yourself an ungodly amount even on the short walk to the galley.
But it didn’t take long for other consequences to start arising.
You were uncertain about going out when Ace was feeling like this but the fifth division needed more firepower. Literally. You didn’t even need to know what Marco’s opinion on it was. He had no reason to tag along.
Ace was exhausted before the fight broke out.
The coughing had been ruining his already poor sleep cycle. He could fall asleep anywhere but it was never for long enough. You watched his head dip twice on the ship ride there, eyes staying closed for far too long. Both times you looked immediately toward Marco who returned your expression with a tight-mouthed response.
He couldn’t tell Ace not to lead his division into battle. But you knew he was waiting for something inevitable.
And that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
The clearing was already churned up by the time the fighting spread around you. Smoke hung low between the trees and steel rang from every direction beneath the roar of Ace’s fire.
It shouldn’t have been a tough fight for him. Vista had already dismantled the main danger and it was easy to move from there.
Ace’s flames surged but you could see the effort in it. His shoulders rose with every breath. When somebody shouted something to him, it took Ace long enough to turn that the man called his name again.
With three commanders on the battlefield and two divisions, this was the Whitebeards’ conflict to win. And sure enough, the other side was easily pushed back but Ace was too lethargic. He moved too slowly.
And right as he brought up a fire fist attack, the flames spluttered out in place of a sharp cough.
The fires around him flickered. Vista’s head turned immediately. You almost lost your arm twisting toward Ace, dodging your opponent’s blade through luck alone.
Ace’s coughing was loud and rough. He slammed a hand into his chest but it did nothing to help.
“Cover Ace, yoi!”
Marco’s call changed half the battlefield. Ace tried to bring up more flames on his chest but they wouldn’t catch. They flicked and sparked out no matter how much he tried.
You drove an elbow into the enemy swordsman’s nose before he could swing again and forgot about the rest entirely.
It took you no time to reach Ace but there was nothing you could do. You stood helplessly for a second before you rested a hand on his back and tried to rub it as he choked.
At your feet, three full flowers lay against the churned ground of the battlefield. They looked so wrong there, yellow petals brushed out to white, delicate and beautiful yet marred with dirt and blood.
The red stains made your limbs stiffen.
You couldn’t call for Marco. He was busy. Ace’s falter had left a gap and the fight had to continue even if he was coughing.
Your hand stayed fixed against his back. For one awful second, you couldn’t think past the wet choke of his breathing.
Fire caught. It ignited over his chest and he gasped in air, breathing out smoke that smelled sickly sweet beneath the burn. He spluttered hard, coughing over the fumes rather than the flowers but he was breathing again.
Relief arrived and you barely stopped yourself from hugging him. He was alive. There was a battle to deal with before you killed him.
Marco almost got to it first.
No sooner had the threat disappeared than he was at Ace’s side, looking murderous.
“I warned you,” he said.
“What’s going on with him?” Vista asked.
“Nothing,” Ace bit out through his teeth. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”
“That didn’t look like handling it,” Marco said. “That looked like you almost suffocating in the middle of a fight.”
“He’s sick,” you answered Vista and Ace threw a glare in your direction.
Vista sheathed his blades. “Then why are you out here? The third division could have come through.”
Ace waved a hand through the air but before he could even defend himself, he began to cough again. Marco’s flames flickered into existence almost on instinct but you knew there was little he could do to heal this.
Flowers in the throat weren’t exactly an injury to be melted away.
“You need to deal with this,” Marco said. “Or I’m going to. You’re not going to die because of it.”
Ace stared at him through watering eyes and you looked away as the coughing intensified. You were starting to really despise that sound. You were never going to have a normal response to somebody getting ill again.
“What’s the cure, Marco?” you asked. “Because this is getting ridiculous.”
“Ace will –”
“You told me you would intervene before it got too bad. Is this not too bad?”
Marco met your gaze, contemplating. He glanced around at the men still surrounding their commanders and shot a look to Vista. Who thankfully understood enough to order everybody back to the boats.
“Don’t,” Ace said around a mouthful of black smoke. “Don’t you dare say anything.”
Marco regarded him coolly. “I don’t know if you’re in any position to make demands, yoi. This has become far worse than you should have let it.”
“It’s –”
“Fine?” you interrupted. “Fine? How long was it between this one and the last? Like five minutes?”
Ace spat out a flower, smoke curling from the petals. “I can still burn them.”
Marco didn’t even bother looking at it. “The disease is caused from believing your feelings aren’t returned. Unrequited love. It doesn’t matter whether he’s right about it or not.”
You frowned. “What?”
Of everything you’d expected to be said in that moment, that was the last thing that had entered your mind. Experimental surgery. Mysterious cure on some unnamed island. Literally anything but…
“Marco!” Ace snapped.
“Yes?”
“Who the hell are you in love with who doesn’t return it?” you asked, brain catching up before Marco could respond.
Ace had travelled before he reached the Whitebeard crew. He’d been around the Grand Line far more than even you had. You could imagine he might have had someone before you’d become friends or even after, while out with one of the others.
And if you had to –
“Don’t join him in being stupid, yoi. He’s managing that enough on his own.”
“What the fuck? You said you wouldn’t say anything!”
You looked toward Ace, confusion creeping in.
“I promised to give you time to do it on your own,” Marco said. “That time has passed. You will not risk your life over something this ridiculous, yoi.”
“That’s not possible,” you said, mind moving fast enough to hurt. “You said it was caused by unrequited love. I’ve been in love with Ace for years. If it was me, he wouldn’t have been sick in the first place.”
Ace’s flames crackling against his skin were the only sound you heard for a few, horrible moments.
“What?” he said, voice almost lost in the din of his own fire.
“I know, I know,” you said, embarrassment crawling up the sides of your neck but fear coming through much stronger. “You wanted something casual. I screwed up by falling for you. That’s whatever. The point is, it can’t be me so we have to figure out who it is.”
Marco looked toward Ace when he answered you, his voice sharp. “Perceived unrequited love,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be true, as long as he thinks it is.”
He walked away from both of you.
Your eyes slid to Ace who was staring at you as though you’d stabbed somebody in front of him. Perceived…
“It’s me?”
Ace wasn’t answering. He gave one small, tiny cough in the back of his throat.
You… all of the coughing and the spluttering and the nearly dying and it had been for you?
“For years?” he repeated.
You blinked at him. All the nights spent rubbing his back while he brought up burnt petals. The panic keeping you up… the fear that if you fell asleep, you might miss the moment you needed to call for help.
And he hadn’t said a thing?
You didn’t know if relief, anger, or excitement was sitting in your throat right now. Or if it was some heinous combination of all three.
“I was in love with you even before that night,” you confirmed with a small nod. “But wait, you’ve known about this the whole time? And you didn’t tell me it was killing you? Seriously?”
A flame darted over his collarbone. “I didn’t want to ruin… you know.”
“So you would rather die?”
“I – That’s not what I meant. I thought you would be upset about it! Why didn’t you tell me before we agreed to everything? If you were in love with me then you could have just said so!”
“Ace, that night you looked like you were going to combust from a kiss alone. I wasn’t going to start telling you how long I’d been pining for you.”
“Because I liked you!”
“Well how was I supposed to know that? I thought it was an impulsive thing!”
“You could have asked?”
“That’s not really the time to ask somebody what they feel about you. You could have asked too, by the way. Or you know, told me when you started choking to death over it!”
He stared at you for a very long, dragged out minute before he looked away. “I never wanted it to be casual. I just wasn’t gonna push my luck.”
“I kissed you back.”
“Yeah but you could have done that anyway.”
“What more did you want me to do? Did I have to issue a public notice to half the crew declaring my love? Ask for Pops’ blessing? Like I thought kissing somebody was a pretty damn clear sign!”
Ace snorted slightly. “I got a love disease for you so clearly that was an option.”
You stared at him blankly, wondering if Marco would believe it was the flowers that had killed him. But he had a small smile on his face and that softened your heart just a little.
“For the record,” you said. “I don’t do platonic sex.”
He flushed red immediately. “That’s not what I meant!”
“Well clearly –”
Your complaints were cut off by a sudden bout of coughing. He doubled over and you crossed the distance to his side in record speed. Marco had said… what else was there? Were you meant to do something more?
A flower petal landed on the ground by your boot, wrinkled and dying. Another followed it shortly after. You watched it curl into ash, blown away by the wind.
Ace took two deep breaths and rubbed at his chest. “Ow.”
He straightened slowly and pulled his hat back onto his head, wiping at his mouth. The few petals that remained lay on the ground around you, slowly disappearing. Relief hit hard enough to make your knees weak and you let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
Then you threw both your arms around his neck and kissed him.
Ace made a startled sound against your mouth, stumbling half a step before his hands caught at your waist. He kissed you back, hot and breathless, with a slight smile curving against your lips.
You pulled away just enough to look at him. “I can’t believe you almost died because you wouldn’t just ask if I loved you.”
“You still could have told me.”
“Next time you start coughing up flowers, it’ll be the first thing I think of.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem again.”
“It had better not be.”
You kissed him again, harder this time until your own lungs were burning. Only that was something you wouldn’t mind feeling many, many more times.
