The palace is attacked, you're far away from Zuko and it seems like your baby wants to be delivered right now
Based on this request. But someone else requested a scene so there is going to be a part two since they kinda contradict each other. There would be a linked part 2 to showcase where it starts and at the end if you want to read it.
Thank you @orphicfeels for requesting! I hope the story is what you requested and sorry it took a long time!!!
Sorry for any grammatical errors!
WC: 2.3k
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This was not supposed to happen. This wasn’t what you had planned at all. In one moment you were sitting beside your maid Yuki, eating a snack and watching Zuko leave a group of generals walking towards you with a smile, your daughter putting her head on your 9 months stomach, whispering things she wanted the both of them to do when you gave birth.
The next you were waking up in the nursery doorframe, teeth gritted against the pain lacing through your lower belly.
The last thing you remember what happened was when Zuko walked you into the nursery room, trying his best to block you from seeing the palace in shambles, tables flipped over, food on the ground, dead bodies of guards and generals, innocent maids who had helped you on the floor lifeless. He had kissed your forehead, cheek, hand and your belly, and looked at you with a worrisome face
“Lock the door, don’t open it for anyone except me, Izumi or Yuki” You remembered him telling you before drawing his sword and leaving you in the closed nursery room.
You had stayed in the nursery room for 30 minutes, walking around and biting your nails, in some minutes sitting down to rub your belly saying comforting things to it, and the next five standing up rubbing your hand while walking around.
And then what happened? Why were you on the floor?Oh…an explosion ,you had heard an explosion and felt a crushing weight on you, sending you to the floor,But for how long….
“Zuko…?” You called out with your hoarse voice “Izu?....Yuki?” You groaned, resting on your shoulder and looking around.
The nursery was wrecked, the crib had toppled over, a chunk of the ceiling was near the window, the debris scattered across the rug you and Izumi had read and slept on.
Panic replaced your thinking, you groaned, pushing up on trembling arms, the weight of your belly making it feel like lifting stone. A contraction rolled through you, deep and unforgiving, you groaned again this time louder, holding your belly, trying to stand on your shaky leg, your hand and braced in the rocking chair.
Not now, not now little one, your father is busy
A crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the palace, metal on metal, shouts and the familiar fire roaring, Zuko’s bending
“Izumi!” You yelled “Yuki! Zuko! Anyone….please-” You stopped when the pain in your belly got stronger, you kneeling down, biting your hand trying to muffle your yells, removing your hand and standing up again shakily
“I…..need…to find the others soon… I can’t have her in this place -“
You painfully waddled out of the room, the hallway was worse than you remembered, the body of a kitchen maid against the far wall, blood on the wall. The sad thing was that she had braided Izumi’s hair yesterday, and now here she was, murder brutally like cattle. You covered her opened eyes and said a little prayer to the spirits before checking the other rooms, gripping the walls and stopping to catch your breath when you heard a small whimper.
You waddled the room, throwing the door open. Inside pressed against the wall was your daughter, her golden eyes wide and her little hands damped over her mouth
“Mama-”
“Izumi!” You yelled, kneeling down, despite the pain and hugging and kissing her cheeks and her forehead “Are you okay baby?! Mama is so sorry baby…”
Izumi places her head on your chest as you two wept rubbing through her coils and patting her back before you thought about Yuki
You remembered seeing Yuki carrying Izumi accompanied by some guard when Zuko pulled you away. You begged and screamed at him to stay with Izumi and Yuki but all he did was peck your forehead and apologize, whispering I’m sorry multiple times.
You pulled away holding her cheeks “Izumi, where’s Yuki…she was with you baby…where is she?”
“She had pushed me into the closet and told me to keep quiet…” Izumi said rubbing her wet eyes “She said I shouldn’t open the closet door until I hear you or papa”
“Okay okay, that’s good baby…Yuki did so good and I’m proud of you…you listened baby…you did so good” you said kissing her head before another contraction hit you, you bit down on your lip until you tasted cooper.
Not now. Not now
You forced yourself to breathe. Zuko was out there fighting, doing his best to protect you, Izumi, your unborn baby and Yuki. And you were here breathing in and out another life trying to force its way into a world that was currently on fire.
“Mama…you’re bleeding”
You looked down, blood dripping down your calf, not from the labor thankfully but from an unknown gash on your thigh. It probably came from the debris that knocked you down.
“Mama is fine baby…” You cupped her face. She was so afraid, her face that you had seen smiling this morning was replaced by fear. Your dimple, Zuko’s mouth, her heart shaped face now looking at you for protection
“Good girl…” You pecked her forehead then stood up, one hand braced on the wall, taking a small knife from your waist band. You stared at it and sadly chuckled
This was the knife Zuko had given to you on your wedding day. You were upset that he added such a present to the wedding day gifts that included roses and letters. You remembered playfully, hitting his shoulder, giving him the pout and not listening when he apologized ,but now you were thankful, so thankful.
You gripped the knife and rubbed Izumi’s hair. “Baby can you do something for me…I need you to be so brave for me…can you do that?”
She nodded
“So braver than when you broke your leg baby?”
“Yes mama”
“Izumi you stay behind me at all times, if I tell you to run you run to the kitchen and hide…if you bump into someone who isn't papa or yuki you bite their limbs…okay?”
Izumi nodded resting her head in your robe as you tear your dress and tied it around you and Izumi’s hand
“Come on baby, let’s go”
You held the wall, the metal part of the knife banging the wall. You open a door and walked through the hallways, covering Izumi’s eyes when you came across a dead body, and making sure Izumi doesn’t turn her head to see it when you two passed by.
But the contractions were coming in faster, from 20 minutes to 10, then 5, your body seizing every time, and you trying your best not to kneel down. You fought through it, focusing on Izumi’s breathing
You were almost passed the maids chamber when the first two had found you, walking from the left of you
“The fire lord’s foreign whore and the little worthless princess…fancy seeing you here” The taller one grinned blood on his chin
You stepped in front of Izumi, who whimpered behind you, your knife held low, knees bent despite the screaming pain your body was in
“Take one more step and I swear to the spirits I will kill you”
“Funny…a pregnant woman telling us to take a step like we can’t rip her baby out of her and kill her daughter….” The shorter one said laughing with the taller one, their laughter echoing in the hallway
“Walk away…last chance” you whispered glaring at them
Another contraction hit you and you tried to hide the pain, but the shorter one noticed, his smile widening as he stared at your belly “She’s in labor…she can’t fight…this is an easy job”
One mistake? You had trained with Zuko and hell you were not allowed to let two cocky men kill you and your kids. Although pregnancy had slowed your training, you were forced to adapt, forced to learn because Katara had warned you that being the firelady, the woman Zuko loved so much meant that people are always looking at you as bait.
The shorter man lunged and , your knife found the gap between his neck and shoulder plate, his eyes going wide. He gurgled, then staggered then dropped down, blood gushing out of the wound.
The second one was faster, he caught your hand and twisted it before you could pull away earning a scream from you and a knife clattering to the floor. He placed you on the wall, grabbing your neck and squeezing it tightly you struggling to breathe
“When the others come, we’re going to have fun with you” He smirked in your face as you hit his arms trying to free yourself
Izumi, being the daughter of you and Zuko, bit his exposed leg, giving you time to push him on the floor as he groaned and you stabbing multiple times while screaming as his body went lifeless, his blood staining your hands and cloth. You removed your knife, panting, dropped it on the floor and waddled to Izumi in pain, hugging her for a few minutes before pecking her cheeks.
“Baby are you okay?”
Izumi nods not minding how his blood was staining her cheek.But she was trembling tears streaming down her face
“I need you to run now…baby can you?”
“Mama I don’t wanna leave you”
“Baby you’re not leaving me baby…You’re going to get papa and bring him back to me…the bravest thing you can do baby…if you see anyone, yell baby, your biggest and loudest yell”
“Mama-”
“Listen to me baby” You said gripping her small shaking shoulder “I need him…I can’t have this baby without him…please baby…please”
She nodded and ran and you watched her go while you slumped against the wall, clutching your belly, breathing gently
And that was where you stayed for 20 minutes, the pain getting stronger and stronger
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part 2
You almost closed your eyes when you heard the pat pat pat of a feet, opening your eyes to see Zuko in front of you
“Love”
“Zuko…” you groaned
Zuko knelt down beside you pecking your forehead “Are you alright….is the baby alright”
“Where’s Izumi…”
“She’s with Sokka and Aang, thankfully Yuki found her again and brought her to me….Izumi told me you had killed some men in the hallway, are you okay?”
“No….the baby….she’s coming”
“Now?! , you have at least two more weeks…the royal healers said-”
“You think the baby cares about what the royal healers say! She’s coming now”
“But the royal healers in the palace are dead. How- how am I supposed to help…” Zuko said
“Katara….let’s go to Katara…”
“Katara? You want to go to Katara…I thought-“
“Zuko, do you think I care about who delivers my baby right now? I’m in labor for spirit’s sake-” You stopped groaning holding your stomach
“Okay okay okay…let’s go ” Zuko said carrying you, you immediately resting your head on his chest groaning and grabbing his clothes as he ran through the hallways, bumping into Katara who had seemed scared and worried,her sleeves rolled up and a stain of blood on her clothes
“Katara!”
“Zuko! Y/N!” Katara says running to you and putting her hand on her forehead, looking at your groan “Is it time?”
“Yes-” You groaned “since…I’ve been holding it for so long and it hurts… “
“Lay her on the ground and tear part of your clothes Zuko” Katara says kicking a dead body to the side, cleaning up the blood with her water power.
“The palace is not safe! We need to get her to the infirmary-”
“There’s no time Zuko, The baby is already crowning and you are going to have the baby right here and now” Katara said, her hands already glowing with cool blue water
Zuko did exactly what Katara instructed pecking your knuckles and rubbing your head
“You did so good baby…so good” Zuko said as Katara placed a spare cloth piece in between your legs
“Mama you know what to do right?” Katara said
“Yeah-“ you groaned before holding his hand, gripping it with all the power you had.
Katara
“Breathe with me” Zuko said in your ear “Remember? Like we practiced…in and out, in and out”
You breathed, pushed, screamed into his shoulder while Katara worked.
“On the next contraction push with all your strength…can you do that for?” Zuko said
“You think I don’t know what to do-” You finished with a loud scream.
“No I’m sorry” Zuko apologizes, wiping your forehead with his hand.
And then is was a different cry, smaller furious and alive
You collapsed against Zuko’s shoulder watching the crying baby, Zuko using his dagger to cut the cord, helping Katara by walking to a window and slicing enough piece of curtain handing it to Katara before kissing your knuckles and rubbing it against his cheek “You did so good”
“A girl…it’s a girl” Katara says, as she cleans the baby up, wrapping the baby with a torn curtain, an improvisation for the moment. She placed the tiny bundle on your chest
You looked down at her, dark hair like yours, a tiny scrunched face that was already starting to settle into something familiar and then she opened her eyes for the first time
Her eyes was gold, just like Zuko looking at you and Zuko like
“Hi baby…I’m your mama…” You whispered “You have terrible timing…” You giggle, your voice tired
Zuko was quiet for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead and another to the baby’s forehead
“She has perfect timing…she waited until her mother was safe and secure”
“In a hallway? I had to kill two men in front of Izumi you know”
“Like I said perfect timing” Zuko said making you roll your eyes and look at Katara who was looking around for any intruders
“Katara…” you said weakly
“Don’t thank me yet…thank me when you can walk again” Katara said pulling out more water to heal the tear she had noticed
“Okay” You whispered, pecking the baby’s cheek once more “What should we name her?”
“Let’s ask Izumi…she’s been wanting to name our next kid”
“She said she was going to name her grumpy…”
“We’ll give her ideas”
From somewhere down the hall, you heard shouting, guards. It was finally ending and the palace was still standing. This time you were carrying your newest daughter, who was searching for her first meal
Do you know what kind of reader I would like to read more? A tall reader. Look, I'm not against short readers, but I also need the reader to be taller than the s/o or the same height. I WOULD LOVE TO READ SOMETHING LIKE THAT.
Your work is like super-uber scrumptious, I was wondering if I could request SFW Romantic headcanons for Enjin, Zanka, August, Zodyl and Jabber with a fem!reader who doesn’t take no for an answer?
She’s has a usually calm almost motherly presence but the time (or times cough cough) he tries to test her patience or question her ex. “I told you to be more careful.” or “Are you telling me I can’t be mad at this?” it shifts into a more intimidating aura like the tone in her voice alone sounds threatening.
If/When they do push her buttons one too many times she revokes kisses/cuddles for a day or in more severe cases she immovably denies him anything he loves dearly about her (affection, baked goods, etc.) before an apology is accepted and maybe a promise to not do/say whatever it was ever again.
How or would they push her limits, how do they react to others being on the receiving end of her wrath and such?
I’m lowkenuinely piled with headcanon ideas rn.. that aside tysm if you accept my request ^^
This request is so specific, I love it 😭🖤 calm, nurturing reader until someone pushes too far? Yeah, let’s talk about it.
🩶 Enjin:
• He notices exactly where your limits are…and sometimes tests them just to see your reaction, not maliciously, more like curiosity mixed with confidence.
• He’ll make a dry comment when he knows you’re already annoyed.
• The moment your tone changes? Yeah...he knows he's screwed and he stops immediately.
• He respects strength, especially yours
• If you revoke affection for the day, he pretends it doesn’t bother him...it bothers him deeply.
• Suddenly, he’s hovering near you more than usual, finding excuses to be close, and he becomes so needy. Picture when a cat starts incessantly head-bumping you for attention and affection.
• However, when Enjin sees someone else on the receiving end of your wrath, he lowkey becomes impressed.
• Won’t interfere unless needed, just watches like: yeah… that’s my woman.
🩶 Zanka:
• Oh, he ABSOLUTELY pushes buttons on purpose. Teasing, poking at your patience, acting innocent afterward. And he'll think it’s funny…until it isn’t.
• The second you hit him with that calm, dangerous voice? Immediate silence followed by: “...okay. my bad.”
• The no kisses/cuddles punishment destroys him. Being praised and being shown affection fuels him, so take that away, and he becomes dramatic FAST.
• Just like Enjin, Zanka follows you around, apologizing, offering snacks, trying to make you laugh.
• Seeing you shut someone else down? Zanka will have the biggest grin ever seen in any man ever.
• Thinks you’re extremely hot when you’re scary.
🩶 August:
• Auggie talks too much and gets himself in trouble by accident, the poor thing.
• Says one slick comment too many, and suddenly the room gets cold.
• Your disappointed look hurts worse than yelling ever could, and he folds QUICK. “Alright, alright, I hear you.” It's too late.
• If you stop baking for him? What follows is devastation. Genuine devastation. Acts like he can survive without it, but he cannot. Because now all he has is his grandmother's baking, and that won't certainly do compared to your top-tier baking skills.
• But when August sees others get dealt with? Mark him down as entertained from a safe distance.
• “damn baby…remind me never to try you again.”
🩶 Zodyl:
• Pushes limits intellectually.
• Questions you, challenges your reasoning, probes at your patience just to observe.
• Truly a dangerous game. A game he apparently doesn't mind playing.
• When your voice drops, and you look at him that way, he actually gets quieter. Not intimidated exactly, but interested.
• Revoked affection becomes a puzzle he immediately wants to solve. He will study every misstep until he corrects it. If anything, Zodyl is persistent.
• Seeing you verbally dismantle someone else makes him so fascinated. Possibly proud in a weird way.
🩶 JABBER
• MENACE
• He pushes buttons because reactions amuse him, and Jabber loves seeing where the line is, then crosses it and regrets NOTHING… until you ice him out.
• The no affection punishment works instantly because now you’re boringly calm and unavailable, and he hates it.
• Becomes louder, clingier, and more obvious, trying to win you back. He becomes more reckless as well (if that's even possible). Jabber will stop at nothing to get your attention back on him because he misses the reactions.
• But him seeing your wrath aimed elsewhere or at someone else. He eats that up. Happiest Raider on this side of the Grounds.
• Thrilled. Front row seat. Bouncing off the walls, he's so excited for the verbal SMACKDOWN that is about to happen.
Hello again! Thank you so much for fulfilling my request, it was so beautiful and I enjoyed reading every single word of it. I just can’t get enough of your writing, it literally makes my day. I want to make another request please, where the strawhats meet someone (female) who can basically turn invisible but also has phantom like qualities like she can walk through walls but when she holds something or someone, they can turn invisible too and walk through walls as well. Again similar idea where the strawhats are very impressed by her and want her part of their crew. You are in full control on how lengthy you want it and the direction of the plot goes too. Please take as much time as you need to write this, no need to feel rushed. I hope you have a great rest of your week, please take care of yourself!
A Whisper in the Walls ˎˊ˗
Straw Hat pirates x Reader
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⤷ Words: 12,637
⤷ Warnings:Loneliness/isolation, vulnerability, bittersweet elements, fem reader!
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ A/N: I had such a nice time writing this; it was so fun! Oh, also, I tried a different writing style. Please give me feedback! 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧
The wind always tastes like dust here.
Dry. Bitter. Like old bones ground into the sand, swept through the cracked alleyways and broken windows of a town no one really remembers how to leave. The buildings lean like tired ghosts, all slouched shoulders and hollow eyes, their doors always half open, like they’re waiting for someone to come in… or something to come out.
You prefer the rooftops.
The island is called Uonuma, but most passing sailors just call it “The Whisper.” It’s the kind of place that only shows up on a map when it wants to. Trade ships give it wide berths. Fishermen swear their nets rot faster when they drop anchor here. And the Marines? They avoid it like it’s cursed. Which, in their defense… might not be entirely wrong.
There are stories about you. Whispers that float in with the sea fog and never quite leave.
Some say you’re the ghost of a dead girl who cursed the island with her dying breath. Others say you were a child born in a storm, who drowned and came back wrong. The more creative ones think you’re a shadow of an ancient weapon, sentient and silent, bound to the decaying ruins.
You’ve heard them all. Sometimes you even whisper them back to the drunks who wander into the ruins at night. It’s a game, really.
You’re not dead, though. Mostly.
You’re just… different.
The Yūrei Yūrei no Mi. That’s what they’d call it, if anyone really knew what you ate. If anyone had the guts to get close enough to ask. The Ghost Ghost Fruit. And you, a drifting phantom with dry fingertips and a voice like an attic door creaking open.
You can feel when people walk into your world—when they pass that invisible threshold between the living and the forgotten. It’s not like a sixth sense exactly. More like… a pressure. Like someone walking across the top of a coffin.
Today, it was a ship. Big one. Loud. Happy voices. The press of dozens of souls, hearts beating, laughter echoing against the walls of the dead town like rain on a tin roof.
The Straw Hat Pirates.
You don’t get many visitors who aren’t either lost or looking to be.
From the safety of a rooftop, the wind tugging at your coat and the sun struggling to burn through the fog, you watch them step off the ship. You phase your hand through the rusted chimney next to you, just because you can. It passes through with a soft chill, like your body’s just a suggestion, not a rule.
Robin’s gaze lingers a little too long on a cracked statue near the docks. She’s heard the rumors. The way her hand drifts toward her chin tells you she’s curious, maybe even amused. Jinbei is more serious—his expression unreadable, but alert. Nami’s frowning already. Too many broken windows. Not enough people. The island is unsettling and she knows it.
Brook… well. He’s humming something under his breath. A requiem? A lullaby? With him, it’s hard to tell. His eyesockets flick this way and that, and if he still had a heart, you’d bet it’d be pounding.
The rest scatter a little, like kids on a field trip. Luffy’s shouting about “ghost food” while Usopp nervously clutches a slingshot and Sanji complains about the lack of restaurants. Franky’s already poking at a crumbling water wheel. Chopper’s trying to get a pigeon to talk to him.
You sigh. You hate this part. The introductions. The screaming. The part where they realize the walls are watching.
You don’t want to scare them. Not really. But sometimes, it just happens.
Your foot brushes the edge of the rooftop. You lean into the emptiness, let gravity pretend it matters. As you fall, you vanish—no flash, no shimmer, just gone. It’s easy now. Like stepping into another room. You let your body phase through the roof of the inn below, drifting down like mist. Your boots make no sound when you land. You make no sound.
You peek through the cracks in the wood at the newcomers outside, the taste of the island’s fear still stuck to your tongue. They’ll feel it soon enough. The way the shadows move wrong. How their voices echo too far. How the doors sometimes close even when there’s no wind.
You turn invisible again. Old habit. Safer that way.
You’ll watch them. Learn their rhythms. Figure out if they’re just passing through… or if they’re the kind who dig too deep.
And maybe—just maybe—if they’re not complete idiots… you’ll let them see you.
Eventually.
When the fog is just right.
You watch them stagger through the abandoned streets like children in a haunted playground, curiosity and trepidation mingling in their laughter and whispered anxieties. You, ever the unseen puppeteer, feel a rare thrill—a hunger not for solitude but for that vibrant, electric pulse of life. Joy, amusement, even a touch of mischief spark inside you as your eyes narrow at a solitary figure cowering near a mossy lamppost. The man with the long nose—known among the few islanders who dare speak his name—hides in a doorway, shaking so fiercely that his shadow seems to shudder on the crumbling wall. His darting eyes, desperate to avoid detection, are almost a dare, tempting you to play.
You glide along the silent corridors of the ruined town, every step deliberate, every breath a whisper. Memories of lonely days haunted by the echo of your phantom existence ripple like distant laughter, and for once you crave the warmth of connection—even if only to tease. A mischievous smile curls your lips as you drift silently behind a shuttered window near the bustling market square. Below, Luffy’s exuberance fills the empty air; his eyes light up as he stumbles over a loose cobblestone, sending a ripple of delighted confusion through the group. With a subtle twist of your power, you ripple the shadows around his feet so that, for an instant, they seem to come alive—waving like grasping hands. The laughter around you falters into startled gasps as Luffy jerks upright, his grin turning into astonished wonder. You can’t help but let out a silent chuckle, savoring the sweet taste of his fear and delight intertwined.
Across the open lane, Robin stands near a collapsed stone arch. Her cultivated calm is momentarily disrupted as the faint sound of a creaking door—impossibly out of rhythm with the stagnant silence—echoes from behind her. You tug at reality, and a gust of air flits through her hair, carrying a phantom whisper that brushes past her ear like a secret. She turns sharply, eyes sparkling with both irritation and reluctant amusement, as though she suspects the hand of mischief. Her gaze drifts to Jinbei, who is already alerting the others with that inscrutable seriousness of his. The subtle terror you’ve planted spreads like a controlled ember, not to harm, but to remind them of the eerie life pulsing through these deserted corridors.
Even Sanji, ever the connoisseur of sensations, shudders just as the aroma of an inexplicably chilled breeze precedes a fleeting glimpse of a figure barely visible in the corner of his eye. A door creaks open on its own near the dining hall of the dilapidated inn, and Brook’s skeletal hand pauses mid-air as he reaches for a chair that suddenly slides away on its own. Each small scare, a gentle reminder of your presence, fans the flames of legend and leaves a ripple of laughter in its wake—a laughter only those brave enough to acknowledge the uncanny might understand.
Some islanders have long since accepted your nature. In dim taverns and hidden safe houses, a few whisper encouraging words, urging you to keep the unwelcome souls at bay. They know the balance you maintain between mischief and menace, between playful haunting and the solemn duty of protecting their fragile haven. Their gentle approvals remind you that you are not alone, even as you walk the line between phantasm and flesh.
In the shadows, your essence drifts, ever unseen yet palpably felt. The man with the long nose, trembling at the threshold of a deserted alley, becomes a small thrill—a beacon of life among those ghosts of rumor. His shaking, his futile attempts to hide, ignite within you an impulse to stretch the boundaries of your own loneliness by interacting with these trespassers, these souls living in a world too lively to be haunted alone.
And so, with every silent leap from one forgotten doorway to another, you embrace this new sense of purpose. The island, with its eerie stillness and hidden inhabitants, becomes your canvas. A gentle scare here, a subtle whisper there, you orchestrate a dance of shadows and fear—a performance meant to remind these wanderers that here, on these haunted streets, nothing is ever as it seems. Tonight, in that bittersweet interplay of mirth and mystery, you promise yourself that even a phantom can find moments of joy in the laughter and terror of those who dare cross your path.
The longer you linger, the more the fog seems to dance in your favor.
It coils between buildings like curious fingers, sliding around the Straw Hats’ legs as they cross into the heart of the town. Their footsteps are loud—far too loud for this quiet place—and you can’t help but trail above them, watching from the rooftops like some amused gargoyle. A few shutters creak as you pass, but you don’t bother to muffle the sound. You want them to know something’s watching.
Below, they’re reacting exactly how you hoped.
“What was that?” Usopp’s voice spikes as a chill runs up his spine. He spins around with a dramatic flourish of his slingshot, eyes bulging. “Something just breathed on me! I swear! I felt it on my neck!”
“It was probably your own cowardice,” Robin muses, her tone light, but her eyes are tracking the fog like a scholar studying a living thing. “Though… there’s definitely something here. It’s not just ghosts. It feels… aware.”
“I like it!” Luffy shouts, arms flung wide. “It’s like the island’s playing tag!”
He sprints forward into the fog, vanishing briefly, then reappearing halfway down the street, laughing like a child in a funhouse.
You blink.
That one’s different.
“Captain!” Sanji calls after him, already irritated, coat fluttering dramatically. “Don’t just run off, you idiot! What if the ghost doesn’t like tag?!”
Brook tilts his skull slightly, as if listening. “I must admit, even I feel… a presence. It’s like being stared at by something cold and shy. Like someone’s peeking from behind the curtain of the afterlife.” He shivers, which you find adorable, given his complete lack of skin.
Chopper hops nervously between them, glancing toward a weathered old shop with broken glass and ivy crawling through the cracks. “I don’t like it… This place feels like it’s not really empty. Like it’s just pretending to be.”
And then, from across the road, a quiet chuckle.
The Straw Hats whirl around to see an old woman sitting peacefully on a stoop, leaning back in a rickety chair like she’s sunbathing in a place where the sun barely bothers. Her skin is paper-thin, folded over bones like tissue, but her eyes are sharp and kind.
“Oh, don’t mind her,” the old woman says with a raspy laugh, eyes twinkling. “She just likes to play.”
Your heart lifts at the sound of her voice.
Mama Reiko.
She’s one of the few who knows you’re real—really real—and not just some cautionary tale. She’s never feared you. Not once. Occasionally, she brings you dried seaweed snacks or pickled plums in little cracked bowls and fusses over your hair like you’re still ten.
“She?” Brook asks, stepping forward with curiosity. “Do you mean the ghost girl in the legends?”
“Oh, she’s not a ghost,” Reiko says, leaning forward. “She’s alive. Just… a little touched by the other side.”
Robin narrows her eyes slightly. “The stories said she could vanish, walk through walls, even make others vanish. That she’s part of the island itself.”
Reiko just chuckles again, unfazed. “The stories say a lot of things. Most of them wrong. Except the part about her being mischievous. That part’s true.”
You snort quietly, hiding above them. Reiko winks up at the roofline, right where you’re crouched, and for a second, you feel like a kid caught with your hand in the cookie jar.
The Straw Hats look up.
You’re already gone.
But the breeze that follows tickles their ears. A soft whisper, like someone giggling just behind them. Brook spins around. Usopp screams. Luffy laughs even harder.
“Yoooo! That was AWESOME!” he yells into the empty air. “Do it again, ghost friend!”
You blink again, unsure how to process that. No one’s ever asked you to keep going before. Usually, they run. Or cry. Or wet themselves. (That happened once. You don’t like to think about it.)
From your place behind a crumbling signpost, you reach out with the tips of your fingers, invisible and intangible, brushing gently against the back of Nami’s shoulder. She stiffens. Looks behind her.
Nothing there.
You shift a pebble beside her foot. She steps back.
“Okay. No,” she says firmly, holding her staff out. “I am not in the mood for ghost games today. Not when we just restocked supplies.”
“She likes you,” Reiko pipes up helpfully.
“She could show it with snacks instead of invisible groping,” Nami mutters.
That makes you laugh. Loud enough that the sound actually echoes this time, bouncing off the narrow alleyways like a bell in the mist.
You let yourself phase through the wall of a nearby bakery and perch in the upper window, chin resting on your arms as you watch them regroup, faces lit up with varying degrees of fear, confusion, and reluctant amusement.
You haven’t felt this alive in years.
They’re fun. They’re loud. They’re curious.
Maybe, just maybe, you’ll let them stay a little longer.
Maybe, for once, you won’t just be the ghost they’re afraid of.
Maybe… you’ll be the one they remember.
There’s a strange rhythm to their presence now. The way they move through the ghost town feels less like trespassing and more like… visiting. A few of them even laugh freely now, their voices pushing back the quiet like sunlight prying through closed shutters.
And still—you linger.
You don’t usually go this far. Not with your other powers. The invisibility, the phasing—that’s easy. That’s safe. But the other part, the part that lets you share it, the part that pulls someone just slightly out of phase with the world… it feels different. Intimate. And you haven’t used it on anyone in a long time.
But the swordsman—Zoro, they called him—catches your attention in a way you don’t expect.
It isn’t just the way he moves, like someone who doesn’t trust walls to be solid or paths to stay straight. It’s that… he’s calm. Unbothered. He isn’t flinching at every whisper like Usopp or peering into the mist like Robin. He walks forward, head tilted slightly, eyes scanning but steady, as if he’s been in stranger places than this—and maybe he has. He moves like a man who wouldn’t panic, even if the floor disappeared under his feet.
So you test him.
You drift low, behind him, your form shifting like a curtain in a draft. He’s standing near an old fountain, glancing toward Mama Reiko, who’s muttering to Luffy and laughing in her throat like she’s hiding a hundred secrets under that sun-wrinkled smile.
You slip up behind Zoro and, gently—just for a breath—you touch him.
Your fingers ghost across his shoulder.
And his entire right arm vanishes.
It’s only for a second. Just a flicker of your power. But it phases out of the visible world, translucent and cold like morning fog, until only the hilt of his sword seems to float in midair.
He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t jump.
He stares at it.
There’s a pause—a silence with weight—and then he slowly flexes his now-invisible fingers. They pass through a nearby rusted lantern hanging from a beam. He watches it happen. Then he exhales.
“Huh,” he says. That’s all.
You blink down at him from the awning you’re crouched on, a little stunned. You expected confusion, maybe even a startle. Not… acceptance.
Mama Reiko watches the whole thing from her seat, and when Zoro’s arm fades fully back into the world again—returning with a shimmer like heat in the air—she hums with a knowing little smile.
“She likes you,” Reiko calls across the street, pointing her cane in Zoro’s direction. “Letting someone borrow that power? She doesn’t do that for just anyone. You must not be too annoying.”
Zoro glances upward, expression unreadable. His fingers curl once around the sword hilt again, testing the feel of it. “I didn’t even see her.”
“She sees you,” Reiko says, tapping her temple. “Ghost Girl’s always watching.”
Luffy laughs like that’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “Yoooo! Zoro, she likes you! Maybe she’ll teach you ghost powers! Then you’ll never get lost again!”
“I don’t get lost,” Zoro mutters.
“Your arm just did,” Sanji snorts, lighting a cigarette. “It was probably trying to find the exit.”
Zoro scowls and flips him off, with the hand you just turned invisible. You cackle silently from above, curling tighter into yourself with glee. You haven’t laughed like this in… God. Years.
Down below, Chopper is practically vibrating.
“Wait wait wait!” he says, tugging on Brook’s sleeve. “Did you see that?! That was amazing! She touched him and—poof! His arm was gone! Gone!”
“She really is a ghost,” Brook murmurs with awe. “Or something very close.”
“More than ghost,” Reiko says, watching the rooftops with a fond sigh. “She’s heart and mist and memory, all twisted into something soft. But she ain’t cruel. Not to the ones who don’t deserve it.”
Robin steps forward now, eyes narrowed in fascination. “So she can share her phasing ability… That explains some of the rumors about people vanishing just by being near her.”
“She can take you with her,” Reiko confirms, folding her hands. “Make you see the island the way she does. Hollow. Quiet. A step out of time.”
You watch them all with something warm bubbling in your chest. Not fire—nothing so bright. Just… warmth. Like the soft coil of steam from a teacup on a cold morning. These people—this crew—they aren’t just interesting. They feel alive. Messy and loud and bright in all the places you’ve long since gone dim.
And maybe, if you’re careful… maybe you’ll let one of them see you for real.
Not just the shadow in the mist.
But you.
The ghost girl of Uonuma.
The one who watches—and maybe, just maybe, wants to belong.
You follow them further than you meant to.
Their laughter tugs at you—something magnetic, something you forgot you missed. For so long, your place has been the fog, the half-seen alleys and crumbling rooftops. But now, you drift closer, your presence thin and quiet, stitched to the breeze that carries the scent of cracked stone and old rain.
They pass the bakery where you once lived. You pause there for a moment, watching Chopper peek into the broken windows, eyes wide. There’s still a pale curtain swaying in the dark, though no one’s opened that window in years. You wonder if he notices. You hope he does.
They keep walking, weaving through the husk of the town as the fog thickens at their feet. The air grows colder here—not hostile, but dense, like a warning murmured under breath. You can feel the edges of your influence, the stretch of your power like a spider’s web laid carefully over the bones of the place you’ve sworn to protect.
And now they’re approaching it.
Not a wall, not a gate, not anything that would catch the eye of someone who doesn’t know.
Just a shift.
A line in the world where your influence ends.
They’re at the edge of the phantom town.
Everything they’ve seen—half of it isn’t real. Not really. The broken rooftops, the endless fog, the illusion of a place forgotten by time… It’s a veil you keep over what lies beyond. The real Uonuma. Not a ghost town, but a hidden village, quiet and still, tucked safely away from pirates, from bounty hunters, from Marines who don’t care who they burn.
Robin slows down first. She’s sharp. She feels it.
“There’s something strange here,” she murmurs. “The fog stops.”
“What fog?” Luffy asks, already two steps ahead of her. “There’s just road.”
And then he crosses the line.
He doesn’t even take a full step.
As his sandal passes through the veil, there’s a sound—low and hollow, like a bell struck underwater—and the air shudders. Light warps around him. Then something grabs him, invisible, and tosses him backward like a leaf in a gust of wind.
“Luffy!” Chopper yelps.
Luffy lands hard, skidding on his back with an oomph and a laugh. “Whoa! That was cool!”
“Cool?!” Nami rushes over, crouching next to him. “What was that?!”
Zoro’s already drawing a blade, not in panic, but with the calm readiness of someone who knows he’s being warned. Robin’s eyes narrow. Brook reaches a bony hand toward the invisible barrier and draws it back just before his fingers pass through.
Mama Reiko approaches from behind, her cane tapping the stones like a steady drumbeat.
She doesn’t speak at first.
She waits.
And you—hovering just above, tucked into the roof of an abandoned watchtower—give her the sign.
You let a single petal fall.
A white blossom, impossibly fresh, drifting through the fog like a piece of snow. It lands softly on her open palm.
She nods, smiles to herself, and turns to the crew with the weight of someone who’s seen too much and is still proud to carry it.
“She’s protecting something,” Reiko says. “That’s why she keeps the fog so thick, the buildings so broken. To hide what’s still left.”
Nami blinks. “Hide what?”
“The real village,” Robin says softly. “It’s still here.”
Reiko taps the stone with her cane. “Beneath all this? There are gardens. Children. Elderly folks. Craftsmen. People who fled the world and came here because they wanted to be forgotten. And she—our little ghost—let them be.”
“She made this whole place look dead?” Usopp asks, peeking around as if he might suddenly see something new.
“She made it invisible,” Reiko says. “Just like she does with herself. Just like she did with your swordsman’s arm. She cloaks the town in phantom light, in illusion. So no one can find what’s still worth protecting.”
“She’s powerful,” Jinbei says, his voice low with respect. “To sustain such a field across an entire town…”
“She’s more than powerful,” Reiko says. “She’s kind. Even if she acts like a little goblin most days.”
You flinch slightly at that, then laugh into your hand.
Reiko grins like she heard it.
Luffy’s already standing again, brushing dirt off his shorts. “So if she’s protecting people… then that means she’s a good ghost, right?”
“She’s not a ghost,” Reiko says, for maybe the tenth time today. “She’s a girl who made herself into a ghost to protect what was left.”
Luffy squints up at the empty space where your power curls in on itself. His grin is big, wide, bright. “Then I like her.”
You hover there for a moment, unsure why your chest feels warm and tight at the same time.
They saw through it. Through you.
Not the scary stories. Not the whispers. Not even the veil of fog.
They saw the intention.
The protection.
The choice.
You exhale and let your form phase through the wall again, quiet as dusk. You won’t let them through the barrier. Not yet. Not all the way.
But maybe… maybe you’ll walk with them a little longer. Just behind the mist. Just out of reach.
And maybe next time, when Luffy steps forward again—
You won’t throw him back.
They don’t know it yet, but you’ve started the test.
It’s something older than the fog, older than the peeling rooftops and half-forgotten alleyways. A whisper passed down in your bones—not something you were taught, but something you knew, the way your Devil Fruit let you slip through the world like a rumor. It isn’t cruel. But it is real.
Because no one’s gotten this far in years.
Not this close.
And deep down, where even Mama Reiko can’t reach, you’re scared. Scared that they might see too much. Or worse… that they might take what doesn’t belong to them.
So you test them.
It begins quietly.
Their shadows stretch too far as they walk.
The light bends in the wrong direction, like it’s being pulled away from their bodies, hungry for something beneath their skin. Robin is the first to notice. Her foot hovers mid-step as she watches her own shadow flicker, stretching along the cracked stones like a river of ink.
“Something’s… wrong,” she murmurs, fingers twitching.
Chopper pauses beside her, nose twitching. “The air feels weird. Like it’s buzzing.”
She sits back down on her stoop, pulls a small plum from her basket, and bites into it slowly, watching the fog without blinking. She knows exactly what’s happening. But she won’t interfere.
She never does.
You begin with Zoro again.
Not because he’s the easiest, but because he’s steady. You draw your presence along his shoulder like a breath of frost, not enough to stop his steps—just enough to nudge. To see what stirs beneath his calm.
He doesn’t falter.
But his shadow doesn’t follow him. It lags behind. And when it catches up, you see it—clear and sharp, like a second skin turned inside out.
The echo of him.
The soul’s silhouette.
Solid. Sharp-edged. Bound by resolve and direction, even if his path never makes sense. There’s a storm in it—anger, purpose, loyalty. He would kill to protect his crew. Die, too. You don’t touch it, but you see it.
You move on.
Nami flinches as something brushes her ear, but it’s not your fingers—it’s the weight of being known.
You tug her shadow gently, and the soul below it glimmers like gold under glass. A thief’s fire. Quick, cunning, and restless. But there’s love there, buried in worry. Worry for the others. For herself. For a home she once lost and never quite found again.
Usopp talks louder now, maybe to scare away the feeling. “You guys feel that?! It’s like we’re being sniffed by the spirit realm! I swear if I explode into flowers or bones, I’m gonna haunt her forever—”
And then he feels it too.
Just for a moment.
A weightless pull behind his ribs, like a hand reaching through a mirror, touching his fear, his bravery, all tangled like roots under the surface. You feel his soul flicker and dance—fragile, sure, but honest.
None of them see you.
But all of them feel you.
You don’t show yourself. You can’t. Not for this.
Because this test—it’s not about strength, or cleverness, or even kindness.
It’s about truth.
What would they bring into your town?
Who would they be, if the mist let them through?
Luffy is last.
He’s not worried. He’s laughing again, standing with his arms out, spinning slowly in a patch of open stone like he’s trying to catch raindrops that aren’t there.
“Hey, ghost girl!” he calls up into the air. “Wanna be friends yet?”
Your breath hitches.
You slip behind him, silent as memory, and let yourself reach—just a little. Just to touch the soul you can already feel burning in him like a second sun.
And it’s—blinding.
You recoil.
It’s not that it’s too much. It’s that it’s too open.
Luffy’s soul is wide, unfiltered, untethered. There’s no shadow over it. No fear. Just joy, and hunger, and grief, and light. The kind of light that doesn’t ask permission before it shines.
He laughs again and turns toward the fog.
“C’mon,” he says to the others. “She’s still watching.”
Zoro huffs. “Yeah. Felt that.”
“Felt like getting x-rayed by a goddamn ghost cat,” Nami mutters, rubbing her arms.
Chopper is half-curled on Brook’s shoulder now. “She saw inside us.”
Brook nods solemnly. “Our souls are in good hands.”
And still, Mama Reiko doesn’t say a word.
Not until you give the second sign.
A low gust moves through the street. Slow and deliberate. Not natural. It lifts the hem of her shawl and carries the scent of plum blossoms.
She smiles into it, stands, and dusts off her skirt.
“Well,” she says, looking toward the mist’s edge. “That’s a first.”
“A first what?” Robin asks.
“She’s never tested this many before,” Reiko says, stretching her back with a quiet pop. “Usually just one. A scout. A wanderer. Someone easy to turn around.”
“So… did we pass?” Luffy grins, eyes wide with hope.
“She hasn’t decided yet,” Mama says, and her voice is heavy now, more than age. “She’s still watching. Still wondering if you’re the kind who takes, or the kind who protects.”
Then, quieter, to herself: “But I think she wants to hope.”
And you, floating just above them, hovering between fog and air, ghost and girl—don’t know what you’ll do yet.
But you are hoping.
And that’s more dangerous than anything.
The veil parts.
Only for a moment. A breath. A heartbeat between fog and light.
It begins with a shiver in the air, like the world exhaling. The mist at the edge of the ghost town peels away—just enough. A sliver of light opens like a door, narrow and golden. And through it…
They see it.
The real Uonuma.
Sunlight spills down whitewashed walls and cobbled streets dappled with green vines. The smell of fresh bread drifts through the air, and laughter—children’s laughter—bubbles like a spring from somewhere unseen. Clothes flap on lines between houses. Flowers bloom wildly in windowsills. The town is alive.
Nami gasps. Chopper’s eyes go wide with wonder. Even Robin’s lips part, the light reflected in her gaze.
“Whoa…” Luffy says, shading his eyes with his hand. “It’s like a whole new world.”
But before he can take a step forward—
She appears.
You appear.
You don’t drift or phase in.
You walk.
Out of the mist like a ghost given form, barefoot on stone, your hair swept in every direction by a breeze that doesn’t exist for anyone else. The air around you shimmers faintly, like the heat off sun-baked roofs, but cool—unreal. You’re not dressed in rags, but you wear the stillness of the veil like a cloak. There’s something hollow and soft in your expression, like moonlight caught in a reflection.
And it is the first time Mama Reiko has seen you fully in years.
She stops breathing.
Her hand curls around the head of her cane, and her eyes shimmer with something that looks like awe.
“…Y/N,” she whispers.
You don’t look at her. Not yet.
You stand in front of the opening, one step from the sunlit threshold, and raise your hand.
“Stop.”
Your voice is soft. So soft it shouldn’t carry. But it does. It ripples through the air, past flesh and bone, into spine. Into soul.
The crew stops dead.
Even Luffy.
Your eyes flick over them. Sharp, knowing. You can see them—all of them. What they are. What they carry. What they’ve done. The fog inside people always speaks louder than their smiles.
Zoro meets your gaze with a quiet nod. Robin studies you like an artifact in motion. Chopper stares like he’s seeing a myth.
And Sanji?
Sanji’s jaw goes slack. A puff of smoke drifts up from the end of his cigarette, forgotten.
“…Mon dieu,” he breathes. “An actual goddess…”
Brook leans toward him and says, “She’s literally made of mist and melancholy, Sanji-san, be respectful.”
“She’s made of art,” Sanji mutters, smoothing his hair. “Look at her eyes. That’s the kind of woman who haunts you in your dreams and your favorite jazz record.”
You ignore the swooning.
Mostly.
But your eyes narrow slightly, and the temperature drops just enough for a breath of mist to curl around his ankles.
He shuts up.
You speak again.
“This place,” you say, gesturing to the sunlight behind you, “isn’t for outsiders. Not unless they mean no harm. Not unless they carry nothing sharp inside them.”
Nami opens her mouth to protest—“We’re not here to hurt anyone”—but you hold up your hand again, and your gaze lands on her with weight.
“I know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Robin steps forward, her voice calm. “You let us see it. That means something.”
“I let you see because I’m thinking.” Your voice wavers then, just a little. Just enough to betray the strain. “No one’s gotten this far in years. No one’s gotten this close. The last time someone did…”
You don’t finish the sentence. You don’t have to.
The air thickens.
And behind you, the children’s laughter quiets, just a little.
Reiko’s voice breaks the silence—cracked, but firm.
“She’s scared,” the old woman says. “But she still showed herself. Which means she wants to trust you. Wants to believe you’re not like the others.”
Luffy doesn’t hesitate.
He steps forward—just one step, respectful, not reckless—and meets your eyes with a wide, earnest smile.
“We’re not,” he says simply. “We’re different. You’ll see.”
You stare at him for a long time.
That strange, blinding soul of his flickers behind his gaze like a second sunrise.
You don’t let them in.
Not yet.
But you step aside just enough for the sun to reach their feet.
And that’s more than you’ve ever done.
Mama Reiko watches you with tears quietly building in her eyes. “There you are,” she whispers. “My little ghost girl.”
You say nothing.
But the way you linger in the light—half-turned, half-here—means everything.
You step forward.
The sunlight behind you frames your silhouette like a mirage—almost there, almost solid. Your steps are quiet, careful, like the ground beneath your feet only accepts you out of habit. The mist parts in your wake.
The Straw Hats watch you with the wariness of people who’ve seen too much and still aren’t sure if this is a dream or a trap. Even Luffy, bright and open, quiets now. Something in him understands this moment is important.
You stop a few feet in front of them.
“I’m going to give you rules,” you say.
Your voice isn’t cold. But it isn’t warm either. It’s the voice of someone used to being the last line between peace and ruin. Of someone who’s learned that kindness, without limits, gets things burned.
“First: You don’t go where you aren’t led. Some doors stay closed for a reason. Second: You don’t speak of this town when you leave. Not its name. Not its people. Not me.”
You pause, and the fog curls tighter around your feet, listening.
“Third: You don’t lie. Not to me. Not while you wear this.”
From your sleeve, you pull something wrapped in an old cloth—delicate, almost reverent. You kneel and begin to unwrap it on the stone ground.
It’s a small, carved wooden box, worn by time and weather. The kind of thing that looks like it belongs in the corner of an attic, behind letters and unsent memories.
You open it.
Inside are bracelets.
Seven of them, each made from iron darkened with age, etched faintly with old symbols—ghost-script from before the island was named. They look like they shouldn’t fit together, and yet… they hum with a quiet, pulsing presence. Like they’re waiting.
You look up.
“These,” you say, lifting the first one with both hands, “will connect you to me.”
Robin’s eyes flicker with curiosity. Jinbei stiffens, cautious. Chopper leans forward in awe. Usopp reaches for his sling—half on instinct.
You hold the bracelet just above your palm, the metal dark and matte. No glimmer. No light.
“Before you put it on,” you say slowly, letting your gaze pass over each of them, “you need to understand something.”
The mist around your shoulders thickens. The sun dims slightly behind you, as if bracing itself.
“This island lives because I’ve made it invisible to the world. Not just from the eyes of people, but from fate itself. I keep death from coming. I keep hunger away. I stop storms from touching our roofs. These bracelets are part of that.”
You glance down at the bracelet. It pulses once—soft, alive.
“If you put it on,” you say, “you’ll be under that same protection. You’ll see what the town really is. You’ll be allowed to walk its streets without the mist. But—”
You lift your eyes again. The air chills slightly.
“—if you try to harm anything, if your intent turns against the people here, even in passing…”
You snap your fingers gently, and the bracelet in your hand shudders—then dissolves into mist, reappearing in your other palm.
“…I will know.”
Zoro’s grip tightens on his sword, not out of threat—out of habit. He studies the bracelet with a slow breath.
“Sounds fair,” he mutters.
Sanji steps forward next, hands in his pockets, grin still plastered across his face like it might help.
“I wouldn’t dream of hurting a single thing here, especially not a town protected by a beautiful woman with eyes like forgotten lullabies.”
You say nothing, but the mist curls around his ankles again in warning.
“…Right,” he says quickly. “Just the bracelet. Understood.”
You begin passing them out one by one.
Chopper takes his with trembling hands, whispering, “Wow… it’s kind of warm…”
Robin holds hers like a relic, brushing her thumb across the etchings. “It’s old magic. Ancient, maybe even pre-Void Century. Fascinating.”
Brook bows slightly, skeletal fingers curled around his bracelet. “I may be dead, but it still resonates. Remarkable.”
When you hand one to Usopp, he hesitates.
“It’s not gonna, like, turn me into mist or erase my memories or make me eat spiders, right? ‘Cause I’ve got very specific allergies—”
“It connects you to me,” you say flatly.
He pauses. Blinks. Then flushes.
“Oh. Cool. Cool cool cool.”
Luffy’s the last.
He steps forward, grinning like he already knows he’ll wear it.
You hold it out, but pause.
“You’re the one I worry about most.”
He tilts his head. “Why?”
“Because people like you burn too brightly. You change things without trying. You don’t break rules—you bend them until they snap in half and start dancing.”
Luffy laughs.
“I like dancing.”
You stare at him.
Then slowly, carefully, you press the bracelet into his palm.
The moment each one of them wears their band, the air changes. Not with weight—with clarity.
The fog thins just slightly, like a veil being pulled back inch by inch. The town behind you breathes deeper. The birdsong grows clearer. And in their chests, each Straw Hat feels it:
A pulse.
A tether.
A link—subtle and strange and alive.
They are connected to you now.
To the ghost.
To the guardian.
And though they don’t know it yet, the bracelets are watching too. Quietly waiting to see who they’ll become in the light.
You finally look at her.
Mama Reiko.
Your eyes lift, slow and reluctant, the way a ghost might glance back at the life it left behind. For a second, you’re not the guardian, not the mist-veiled warden with one foot in this world and the other in something softer.
You’re just Y/N.
And she’s just the woman who raised you when everyone else was too afraid to try.
Her eyes glimmer behind the thin cloud of her breath, the fog curling around her feet like it knows better than to touch her.
“Well,” Mama says, voice dry but warm, “you still got bones under all that gloom after all. And here I thought you’d vanished for good, girl.”
You don’t smile.
Not quite.
But your shoulders drop a little. That sharp, haunted tension loosens.
“I never left,” you say, voice low. “I’ve been right here.”
Mama clicks her tongue, leaning on her cane.
“You’ve been hiding, not living. There’s a difference.”
You glance toward the Straw Hats. “I had to.”
Mama’s brow lifts. “And now?”
You stare at her for a moment, the weight of years and silence blooming between you like fog over water.
Then you say, “Now I’m thinking about letting them in.”
Mama’s face crinkles. A slow, blooming smile cuts across her cheeks, small and private like a secret kept warm in her palm.
“Took you long enough,” she mutters, and settles back onto her stoop.
You turn to the crew.
“Come on,” you say simply. “Follow me.”
They do.
One by one, bracelets humming faintly against their skin, the Straw Hats step past the mist’s edge. Luffy bounds forward without hesitation, grinning wide. Robin walks with curiosity in her gaze. Zoro lingers only half a beat before striding through like the fog’s nothing but smoke. The rest follow, some cautious, some awestruck.
And the moment they cross into the real Uonuma—
Everything changes.
The heaviness lifts.
The taste of the air sweetens, losing its stale, sunless flavor. Warm light spills across their shoulders like it belongs there. The old stone streets glow with life. Flowers lean toward them. The breeze is soft and smells like plum blossoms and morning bread.
Children stop running mid-game, wide-eyed and silent.
One of them points with a gasp. “Mama! Look! People came through!”
An older boy ducks behind a barrel, peeking out with excitement instead of fear. A little girl grips her doll and tiptoes out into the path, staring at Luffy with her mouth hanging open.
Elders pause at their doorways. Bent spines straighten just enough to watch. Their gazes are careful but not unkind. One old man squints hard and mutters, “A skeleton. Huh. That’s new.”
You keep walking.
You don’t look back.
But you feel Mama Reiko watching you.
She’s smiling again, a private, pleased kind of smile, like someone watching a sprout push through the cracks in old stone.
“She’s letting them see,” she says softly, to no one in particular. “That girl’s heart’s still soft, no matter how many ghosts she tries to wrap around it.”
And inside the town, as the Straw Hats take in the vibrant world hidden behind the phantom veil, the wind carries something lighter than mist—
Hope.
For the first time in a long, long time.
You walk a little ahead, the mist behind you curling shut like a door finally sealed.
The Straw Hats keep close, their footsteps oddly quiet against the cobbled streets. You don’t need to tell them this place is sacred—they feel it. The air hums with something quiet and kept, like a place that’s been holding its breath for years.
You stop beneath the shadow of an overgrown lantern post, its iron wrapped in creeping vines. The town stretches ahead, open and sunlit, the market square just beginning to stir. Banners sway gently in the breeze. Stalls dot the plaza—some selling woven fabrics dyed in the colors of twilight, others stacked with sun-warmed fruit, old trinkets, dried fish, or soft clay pottery.
You speak, without turning.
“I’ll let you shop.”
Luffy lights up like a lantern. “YOSH! I wanna try the—”
“But,” you interrupt, calm but firm, “you stay with me.”
They all pause.
You glance back over your shoulder, eyes soft but unreadable.
“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for them.”
Robin gives a respectful nod, her voice gentle. “We understand.”
You begin walking again, slower this time, and the Straw Hats follow in your wake like a ripple across still water.
The market is alive, but cautious.
People watch from behind stalls and fabric shades. Some don’t recognize you at all—young faces, children grown while you haunted rooftops and mist. Others pause with recognition dawning slow across their expressions, like sunlight through cloud.
An old woman selling ribbon falters mid-sale, fingers still curled around a roll of blue silk. Her eyes go wide.
“…Ghost?” she breathes, the word not quite fearful. Not quite believing.
You pause beside her stall, eyes meeting hers. The woman exhales sharply. “It is you.”
You nod once. “Keiko.”
She startles. “You remember my name.”
“You used to braid flowers into my sleeves when I passed.”
Keiko flushes—laughs nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “I thought maybe you’d forgotten. It’s been so long, Y/N…”
“I never forget.”
Her hand reaches out slightly, then hesitates, unsure if she’s allowed to touch you. You let her.
She brushes your sleeve. Still real. Still warm.
Behind you, Chopper’s ears twitch.
“Wow…” he murmurs, voice hushed. “They know her. They really know her.”
“More than I thought,” Sanji says softly, his eyes sweeping the square.
The vendors are shifting. Slowly. One by one.
A man selling dried plum sweets straightens his back and offers a cautious, respectful nod.
A woman with sun-lined eyes and a cart of painted masks glances toward you, and though she says nothing, she lifts a carved fox mask as if in greeting.
Not everyone smiles.
Some watch from their porches, unmoving. A handful lower their eyes and close their doors. Fear doesn’t vanish in a day.
But no one shouts. No one calls you a curse.
You stop at a fruit stall. The boy behind it—maybe seventeen, maybe younger—stares like you just floated out of a myth.
“…You’re her,” he whispers. “You’re the reason we’re still here.”
You tilt your head, almost amused. “And you’re the reason the apples are still sour.”
He stammers, flushing.
Luffy leans over your shoulder. “Ooooh! Do you got meat??”
You give him a side-eye. “Luffy.”
“Right. Sorry. Ghost meat?”
Usopp elbows him. “Dude.”
The boy nervously offers you all a small basket of fruit. “It’s fine,” he says, voice cracking slightly. “Take it. Please. It’s an honor.”
You take the basket. Then—maybe on impulse—you pluck a fruit from it and hand it to the boy.
“Split it,” you say. “With someone who’s still afraid.”
He nods, cradling it like it means something. Because here… it does.
Further down, you pause at a small trinket cart—one that sells old charms made from wood and bone, each one tied with thread dyed in the village’s own root-stain reds and sky-indigo blues.
You pick one up. A ghost-bell charm.
The woman behind the cart stares, mouth slightly open. “I never thought I’d see you… not in daylight.”
You look at her, expression unreadable. “I never thought I’d be seen.”
She smiles, tentative. “Welcome back.”
You tuck the charm into your sleeve and nod.
Behind you, Mama Reiko watches from her stoop, cane across her lap, eyes glittering with something halfway between pride and knowing smugness.
“She’s walking like she belongs again,” Mama mutters. “Hah. About damn time.”
You lead the Straw Hats deeper into the heart of the town, where people are beginning to step out of the shadows, not with cheers or fanfare—but with quiet, cautious hope.
A little boy tugs his mother’s sleeve and whispers, “Is that her? The ghost lady?”
The mother glances at you, your mist trailing softly behind your bare feet as you move, and nods.
“Yes,” she murmurs. “That’s our ghost.”
And the ghost is smiling. Not fully. Not yet.
But enough to feel a little less like a shadow.
And a little more like someone home.
You keep walking—past the old peachwood fence where sparrows nest, past the stall with lanterns dyed with indigo ink and stitched with wind charms, past the parts of town you’ve watched for years without stepping into.
It’s strange.
Your feet feel heavier the deeper you go, not because of dread, but because you’ve never really walked this far with company. The veil always curled tighter the moment someone came close. You weren’t meant to share this place.
And yet here they are.
The Straw Hats.
Bright. Unfiltered. Chaotic like wind over river stone.
Luffy bounds between stalls like a pinball, staring at everything with such awe it makes your throat ache. Chopper clings to Usopp’s shoulder, whispering theories about the bracelets and the fog and your “anti-curse ghost frequency.” Robin’s eyes are soaking in every corner like she’s reading the town itself. Brook hums as he walks, and Zoro looks like he wants to pretend he doesn’t care—but you catch him looking. Not just watching. Looking.
Sanji’s been trailing slightly behind you the whole time. Not in fear—no, he’s watching you. Guarded, maybe, but respectful. Like if he looked away, you might vanish again.
You’re not used to being seen like this. Not touched by attention that isn’t suspicion or reverence or old dread.
It’s exhausting.
And… it’s kind of nice.
You stop near a stall run by a woman you haven’t spoken to in years. She’s selling grilled mochi cakes, their skins browned and crisped with soy and sugar. They smell like a warm home.
“I’ll pay for them,” you say.
You hand her coins you haven’t used in over a decade. They still carry the faint scent of incense and moss.
She looks at your face.
And she smiles.
“No need,” she says. “It’s good to hear your voice again, Y/N.”
You don’t know how to respond to that.
You just quietly take the food and turn back to the group.
Luffy’s already halfway to swallowing one whole, and you flick a tiny bit of mist at his face, making him splutter.
“Chew,” you warn.
“Mmph—’kay,” he says, mouth full.
Chopper nibbles delicately and gasps. “It’s so gooood!”
Sanji gives a low whistle. “You always feed your guests this well?”
You don’t quite meet his eye. “Guests don’t usually make it this far.”
He tilts his head at that but doesn’t push.
Usopp inches up beside you, his hands jittery. “S-So, Miss Ghost Protector Lady—uh, Y/N—I heard from that old man over there that you once walked through an entire avalanche and made it turn around. Is that true?”
You stare at him.
Then blink. “No.”
“Oh.”
“But I did convince a dying tree to stop pretending it was dead just to spite the sun.”
He gawks.
Robin laughs softly behind him.
As you pass, villagers nod to you—some cautiously, some with eyes wide like they’ve only seen you in dreams. One child hides behind her father’s leg and peeks out, whispering, “She’s not scary at all…”
You stop walking.
You kneel slightly, just enough to look the child in the eye.
“That’s because you’re not afraid.”
The girl stares at you, round-eyed, then offers a tiny flower she’s been holding. A single ghost lily.
You reach out and take it gently.
The petals are cool and fragrant, and for a moment your hand almost flickers into mist—but you hold steady.
“…Thank you,” you say.
When you turn, Luffy’s grinning at you like you just told a joke only he heard.
You raise a brow. “What?”
“You’re weird,” he says simply.
“Thanks.”
“I like you.”
The words land so cleanly, so plainly, that your next breath catches somewhere between shock and laughter.
It’s been so long since someone just said that without fear. Without needing a reason.
You shake your head. “You’re all so…”
“Awesome?” Usopp offers.
“Noisy,” you reply.
“Fair,” Robin chuckles.
You start walking again, deeper into the town. Some of the villagers fall into step near you, watching the Straw Hats with growing curiosity. You hear murmurs:
“Are they pirates?”
“Did she let them in?”
“Why now?”
“They’re smiling.”
And the truth is—so are you.
Just a little.
The wind picks up. It smells like baked rice and blooming citrus trees. There’s music in the distance—soft, string-plucked, the kind that sounds older than most names.
You’ve never walked this far from the veil without looking over your shoulder.
But now you’ve got laughter at your side, footsteps following yours, and seven strangers with light in their hands and storm-song in their voices.
And for the first time in years…
You’re not alone.
“Hey! Y/N!”
You don’t have time to turn fully before it happens—
Luffy’s warm hand wraps around yours.
You freeze.
For a second, you’re not the veil-walker, the ghost, the guardian of Uonuma’s phantom shell. You’re just a body—a startled one—and that body is being tugged forward at full Straw Hat Captain speed.
He yanks you toward a nearby stall, one with a bright red canopy and tiny carved animals perched along the edges. “Look at these!” he grins, pointing wildly. “They got little wooden tanuki with hats!”
You should pull back. You should.
But his grip is warm. Alive. Real.
And something in your chest—dormant for far too long—trembles.
You go with him.
Your footsteps are unsure at first, like bones that forgot how to move with joy. And then—
You flicker.
Not disappear.
Flicker.
Your body stutters from mist to solid in a breath, like the ghost in you is surprised by your own decision. The bracelets on your crew shimmer faintly in response—just for a second—and then settle.
And then suddenly you’re fully visible.
No haze. No veil. No glimmering edges.
Just you.
In sunlight.
Whole.
And the entire street stills.
The town hasn’t seen you like this in over a decade. Not half-faded between planes, not as a drifting shape on a rooftop or a voice behind the mist.
But you. Laugh lines around your mouth that haven’t been used in years. The tilt of your brow. The quiet intelligence in your eyes. The figure that has haunted their stories, their songs, their warnings to curious children—suddenly very much human and standing in the middle of the market holding a pirate’s hand.
Gasps ripple like wind through tall grass.
You hear someone whisper, “She’s… she’s still beautiful.”
Another voice, hushed and reverent, “She’s real.”
And in the distance, a child yells with glee, “She’s not floating anymore!!”
You jerk your hand back.
Too fast. Too harsh. Your fingers tremble as you hide them in your sleeves, face dipped low, mist already curling instinctively around your ankles like a defense.
“I—don’t—” you start, but the words slip sideways, flustered and raw.
Luffy blinks at you.
“Oh,” he says, unbothered. “Did I scare you?”
“I—no. Not scared. I just—” you pause, startled at your own voice. It sounds so close when it’s not echoing through the fog. “That was… sudden.”
He grins, not a trace of shame. “You looked like you wanted to go somewhere but were pretending not to.”
You blink.
“That’s not… unreasonable,” you admit, quietly.
He beams.
Then turns to the vendor, who has been frozen with a painted tanuki in his hand the whole time. “We’ll take two of those!”
The man stammers, but eventually nods, wrapping them carefully and placing them in a cloth pouch. Luffy pays without hesitation, then shoves one toward you.
“Here!” he says. “Now you got a matching one with me.”
You hold the little wooden tanuki, its tail curled in a spiral, hat perched slightly crooked. You don’t know what to do with it.
“You… don’t have to give me things.”
“I want to,” Luffy says, with that easy simplicity that always sounds like the most truthful thing in the world.
You stare at him. At the creases in his smile, the way his joy is so loud it feels like it could drag the stars down to earth.
The townsfolk are still watching.
Some are crying quietly.
One of the elders—Hideo, an old man with a voice like rust and wind—mutters from his stall, “Maybe the ghost girl’s finally tired of being lonely.”
Mama Reiko, sitting across the square with a pipe between her fingers, watches with a look you can’t quite name. Not amusement. Not surprise.
Something gentler.
“She’s remembering,” Mama says to herself, eyes never leaving you. “What warmth feels like.”
You glance back at the Straw Hats—all of them watching, in different ways. Robin gives you a faint, encouraging nod. Zoro pretends he’s not paying attention, but his hand is close to his sword. Just in case. Chopper’s already drawing in his notebook, whispering something about “social re-entry response patterns.”
And Sanji?
Sanji is staring.
Eyes full of reverence. Like you’re made of light, not fog.
You shove the little tanuki into your sleeve. “Fine,” you say softly. “But if he curses me, I’m blaming you.”
“He’s not cursed!” Luffy laughs. “He’s got a hat.”
You don’t laugh, but your mouth twitches.
Just slightly.
Then, still a little shaken, still not used to the way people are looking at you without fear, you keep walking.
But you don’t disappear this time.
Not completely.
The mist still clings to your feet.
But the sun?
It’s beginning to cling to your shoulders too.
Luffy is the first.
Of course he is.
He treats you like you’ve always been there, like you’re just another voice in the crew’s storm of noise and laughter and chaos. He doesn’t tiptoe around your silence or the way your voice sometimes comes out like a whisper through old stone. He just is.
He sticks beside you as you walk, grinning wide, hands behind his head.
“So you’re like… a mist ghost?” he asks.
You glance sideways. “Something like that.”
“Cool.”
“…You’re not scared?”
He looks at you like that’s the weirdest question he’s ever heard. “Why would I be scared of someone who protects a whole island?”
You stare at him.
He stares back.
Then, slowly, you murmur, “You’re… very bright.”
“Thanks!” he beams.
And you vanish.
You blink out of existence on instinct—so fast the mist coils around your clothes like you just crumbled into smoke. Luffy stands blinking, then laughing.
“Hey! Come back, Ghosty!”
You reappear a few feet to the left, mist unrolling from your arms like long sleeves. “Don’t call me that.”
“But it fits!”
“I’m regretting letting you in.”
“Nah,” he grins. “You like us.”
You don’t argue.
Because, somehow, you do.
Zoro is harder to read.
He doesn’t talk much. But he watches everything. Especially you.
He doesn’t flinch when you appear behind him on a rooftop without a sound.
“I was curious if you could sense me,” you say, ghost-light curling around your shoulders.
“I knew you were there,” he mutters. “Smelled like cold stone.”
You pause.
“…You have a good sense of smell?”
“I trained in places where people tried to kill me.”
You blink. “Same.”
Zoro smirks at that.
A silence falls between you.
Then, casually, he tosses something at you.
You catch it without thinking.
It’s a small bottle of herbal oil. Local-made. Meant to soothe aching joints.
“You looked stiff earlier,” he says. “Like you don’t walk much.”
You don’t know how to answer that.
So you disappear again.
He chuckles under his breath. “Hah. She poofed.”
Nami is suspicious, at first.
Not hostile. Just careful. She’s good at reading people—especially the kind who could be dangerous if they weren’t kind.
“You’ve been alone for a long time,” she says one afternoon as you both browse a fabric stall.
You run your fingers over a bolt of indigo silk. “Is it that obvious?”
Nami hums. “You react like a wounded cat. Sweet underneath but ready to vanish.”
You sigh.
“You don’t need to protect yourself from us, you know,” she adds, then softens. “At least, not unless you’re planning to steal our stuff.”
“…I don’t want anything.”
Nami watches you, then slowly presses a small coin purse into your palm.
“What’s this?”
“Ghost girls need shopping money too.”
You blink at her. A ripple of cold fog leaks from your sleeves—embarrassed, startled.
Nami smirks. “There she goes.”
Usopp avoids you for most of the day.
Not because he’s afraid.
Because he’s terrified.
You catch him peeking at you from behind barrels. Ducking behind stalls. Once, you float past him in your mist-form just to spook him for fun.
He screams.
Later, he tries to impress you.
“There was this one time I defeated a hundred shadow demons in one night,” he says, arms flailing as you both sit beneath a paper lantern.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. They tried to eat my soul, but I was too powerful. My haki was too strong.”
You lean in.
“Is that so?”
You phase your hand through the lantern. The fire dims—flickers—and Usopp yelps.
“AaAAgh!! I-I mean! Yes! I mean—NO! I—”
You’re gone in a swirl of fog.
And from somewhere above him, your laugh echoes down.
It’s the first time you’ve laughed like that in years.
Sanji is dramatic.
Hopelessly so.
When you approach his end of the market, he spins with the grace of a dancer, one hand over his heart.
“Y/N-saaaaan~!”
You stop dead.
“…What are you doing.”
“Blessing the heavens for creating a being of such elegance,” he breathes. “You walk like mist given form. You vanish like a dream. You haunt my soul—”
You vanish.
Instantly.
Behind him, Robin chuckles into her palm. “That’s the third time you made her disappear, cook-san.”
“She’ll come back when she’s ready,” he sighs, lovestruck. “They always do.”
You reappear next to him, expression dry. “I didn’t leave because I liked it.”
He swoons. “She came back to reject me—how romantic.”
You shove a fruit tart in his mouth and walk away.
Chopper is nervous in the way young deer are nervous.
He tries to analyze you first—asks if you’re made of ectoplasm or mist. If your organs work. If you have a heartbeat.
You let him press his ear to your chest.
You do have a heartbeat.
It’s just… quiet. Like it echoes through deep stone.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers.
“…You’re not afraid?”
“No way. You protect people. You’re like a spirit doctor.”
You look away. “I’m not that good.”
He shakes his head. “You’re better.”
You vanish for a full ten seconds.
When you return, you drop a tiny carved bone charm into his hoof.
“For protection,” you say, and disappear again.
Chopper clutches it to his chest like treasure.
Robin is easy to talk to.
She listens. She understands silences as well as she does words.
You sit beside her on the temple steps one afternoon, both watching the children play in the courtyard. She doesn’t speak right away.
“I read about Uonuma once,” she says eventually. “A town swallowed by mist. Lost in time.”
You nod. “They’re not lost. They’re just… hidden.”
“Because of you.”
“…Yes.”
She turns, eyes soft. “You’ve done well.”
It takes you several seconds to reply.
“…Thank you.”
And when the silence comes again, it doesn’t feel lonely.
Brook approaches you late at night, where the moonlight pours through the mist like milk through water.
You look at him and feel something ancient.
Two ghosts meeting under borrowed stars.
“You’re not quite like me,” he says.
“No,” you agree.
“But you’re lonely, too.”
You nod.
“I won’t ask if it hurts. I know it does.”
You pause.
Then say, “…You can play for me sometime.”
Brook bows. “It would be my honor.”
You don’t vanish.
You just sit with him, letting the wind carry his tune into the quiet heart of your island.
Jinbei approaches you carefully.
Like a warrior. Like a diplomat.
Not because he fears you. But because he respects you.
“You hold great responsibility,” he says.
You nod.
“I have also protected things. Burdens that never sleep.”
Another nod.
“Tell me,” he says quietly, “when was the last time you rested?”
You look at your hands.
“…I don’t remember.”
“Then perhaps it’s time.”
You disappear before you even know you’re doing it.
He chuckles. Deep. Understanding.
“I’ll ask again later.”
You’re all together in the square when it happens.
Someone tells a joke. Probably Usopp. Or maybe Luffy falls off a stall again. Sanji’s yelling. Chopper’s laughing.
And something bubbles in your chest.
Light.
You don’t fight it.
You smile.
Not the polite ghost-smile you wear for strangers.
A real smile.
And they all see it.
And in that moment, something clicks.
You’re not just the ghost. The veil. The protector.
You’re you.
And for the first time in years…
That feels like enough.
The sun is setting.
You’ve always liked that hour best—when the sky goes soft and gold, and the mist around Uonuma curls up like it’s folding into sleep. There’s something peaceful about it. Something gentle. Like even the ghosts are tired.
The Straw Hats are preparing to leave.
You knew this moment would come. But it still lands like cold stone in your chest.
They stand by the docks. Laughing. Talking. Loading crates of fruit and little souvenirs. Chopper shows off a beetle he caught. Nami counts the coins she made trading local goods. Sanji lights a cigarette and grins up at the fading sun.
And Luffy… Luffy is looking at you.
Still.
Still bright. Still impossibly loud in his silence.
You walk with them to the edge of the dock. The villagers line the mist’s edge, quiet. Not mourning. Just watching.
You don’t know it yet.
But they do.
They’re watching you go.
Not today. Maybe not tomorrow.
But soon.
They can feel it. You’re not fading anymore.
You’re glowing.
You bow your head slightly to the villagers—soft, almost shy.
You whisper your goodbyes. Light passes over your fingers, turning your sleeves golden at the tips.
Children wave, some on their parents’ shoulders. Elders fold their hands in prayer. Shopkeepers nod with faint, sad smiles. A few of them bow.
They aren’t losing a ghost.
They’re setting you free.
And still, you don’t quite feel it.
Not yet.
Y/N!” Luffy calls, grinning wide, his hat tilted too far back on his head. He waves you forward, closer to the ship. “Come on!”
You blink.
“I’m not coming with you,” you say gently.
Luffy grins wider. “Why not?”
You open your mouth. Then close it again.
The mist at your feet curls tighter. “This is my place.”
“Nope,” he says.
You stare at him.
He points at you. “You feel like one of us. And if you feel like one of us, you are one of us.”
You shake your head slowly, unsure. “You don’t understand…”
Zoro crosses his arms nearby, watching. Nami frowns thoughtfully. Brook tilts his skull. Sanji is already dramatically lighting a farewell cigarette.
But Luffy?
Luffy takes a step forward.
He holds out a hand. “Come with us. I want you to. We all do.”
Your breath catches.
The air shifts. Your body flickers.
Just slightly.
You don’t vanish entirely—just enough to feel that pull, that slip between choices.
“I can’t,” you say.
And your voice cracks.
They all pause. Even Luffy.
“I can’t,” you say again. “I don’t think I… I’m allowed to leave.”
And though none of them truly understand what that means, they all see it.
The weight.
The veil you still carry.
“Okay,” Luffy says softly. He doesn’t argue. Just smiles. “We’ll see you again.”
Then they go.
One by one.
They wave. Chopper cries. Usopp promises to write you an epic. Sanji blows a kiss. Robin gives a polite nod. Jinbei’s farewell is a quiet bow, respectful and sure. Brook plays a parting tune that drifts through the air like a memory.
And Luffy, the last to board, simply looks at you.
Still glowing.
Then he’s gone.
And the weight comes crashing back.
It’s heavier than it was this morning.
So much heavier.
You don’t remember walking back. Just the sound of footsteps that might’ve been yours. Mist swallowing you like a cradle.
You end up where you always do when your heart hurts.
On the stone bench under the old bell tower.
Head on your knees. Cloak pooled around you like a wilted flower. Your breath fogging against your knees as the weight settles into your ribs.
The bench creaks.
Mama Reiko sits beside you without a word.
You don’t lift your head. “They’re gone.”
“I know.”
“I said no.”
“I heard.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“…I know.”
Silence.
A bird cries somewhere overhead, carried by the fading light.
You press your face deeper into your arms.
“They’ll forget about me.”
“No, they won’t.”
“I’ll forget about them.”
“No, you won’t.”
More silence.
Then, Mama says, “You’re not supposed to stay here forever, little mist.”
You freeze.
“But the veil,” your voice trembled, a mere whisper. “If I leave, they’ll be exposed. The village. The people. I keep them safe.”
Mama’s hand found your shoulder, a comforting weight. “You’ve already done that, my dear. For so long.”
Your shoulders shook, a silent tremor echoing the quake in your heart. “If I go… I don’t know what I’ll be.”A soft hum vibrated from Mama’s chest. “You’ll be free,” she murmured, her voice like a gentle caress. “You’ll be you.”
Silence settled between you, heavy and thick. You couldn't speak, couldn't voice the fears that coiled in your gut. But then, Mama’s hand, warm and steady, found your back. The heat seeped into you, a quiet reminder: you weren’t a ghost anymore. Not truly.
Mama watched the distant ship shrink on the horizon, its bright red flag a defiant splash of color against the vast blue. The mist, your constant companion, curled around her ankles, but her gaze was fixed on the burgeoning sunlight. You remained hunched beside her, a phantom who’d forgotten how to haunt.
Finally, her voice, soft as a sea breeze, broke the spell. “Little mist, you’ve done enough.”
You didn’t move.
“Every stone in this town knows your touch. Every child has grown up under your quiet protection. And every person here… we love you.”
You pressed your forehead harder to your knees, willing the world to disappear.
“But we don’t need your chains to prove it,” she continued, her tone gentle yet resolute.
You shook your head, the gesture devoid of defiance, only a desperate tremble. “What if I go and they need me? What if I leave and the veil lifts and everything falls apart?”
Mama chuckled, a soft, knowing sound. “Then we’ll face the sun.”
You blinked, the words echoing in the quiet.
She offered a smile, one only the very old possess—wisdom etched with sorrow, pride shining through. “You’ve been the sky over us for so long, child. But it’s time you came down and lived.”
Just then, a tiny voice pierced the air. “Y/N!”
You lifted your head, barely. It was the girl from earlier, the one with the flower crown, running barefoot down the misted path. Petals bobbed in her hair like captured stars. She skidded to a stop, breathless, her cupped hands holding something small and soft.
“I made you a new one!” she panted, presenting a lopsided, faintly glowing daisy ring. “You left yours behind…”
You stared at the fragile ring, then at her beaming face. “You should go,” she declared, her voice bright with conviction. “You should really go!”
“What?” you managed, a whisper of disbelief.
Her grin widened. “We want you to go. You deserve to go!”
Your voice cracked. “But—”
“Everyone says so!” she interrupted. “Mama says, and Teacher says, and even grumpy old Da said it! You protected us! You can go be happy now!”
You stared, speechless. Slowly, your fingers closed around the little flower crown. And something in your chest snapped. Not pain, not grief, but the clean break of something brittle finally shattering to let the light pour in.
Your body flickered. Once. Twice. And then you were running.
The mist swirled behind you, a desperate attempt to hold on, but it couldn't. It lifted, uncoiling, unraveling, rising into the sky. You tore down the path barefoot, past the market stalls, past the temple, past the watchtower. With every pounding step, the veil crumbled. Sunlight, warm and bright and real, poured in like a tidal wave. The town gasped; some shielded their eyes, others fell to their knees in awe. Color flooded back into everything: the salty tang of the sea, the hum of the wind, the undeniable pulse of life.
And you—you kept running.
Past the last stones of the path, to the cliff's edge. The Thousand Sunny was still visible, a steady silhouette drifting towards the open sea. You flung up your arms, mist spinning from your skin like newly unfurled wings, like smoke torn loose from its ancient lantern.
“WAIT!” you screamed, your voice raw and free.
Far ahead, the sails shuddered. The ship slowed. And one by one, the Straw Hats turned to the horizon. Luffy was the first to see you. His mouth fell open, then—his grin split the sky.
Home
Back at the edge of town, Mama sat alone on the bench, watching. A soft wind ruffled her robes, and around her ankles, the last of the mist curled up like morning fog and vanished. She closed her eyes. “Go on, little ghost,” she whispered, a benediction. “Time to live.”
The Thousand Sunny groaned under the weight of an impossible reunion. You stood there, barefoot, your cloak whipping in the wind, breath caught in your throat, hand still half-raised. Luffy’s voice boomed across the water like a cannon, deafening the sea itself.
“GET ON THE SHIP!”
You blinked, your eyes stinging, whether from the wind or something more fragile, you weren't sure. Then, he was grabbing the side of the ship, stretching his arms like a slingshot. “Don’t worry! I’ll come get you—!”
“Luffy, wait—!” Nami began, but it was too late. He launched himself toward you like a comet.
You flinched, almost phasing out of instinct, vanishing as you always had. But you didn’t. You let him crash into you, his arms locking tight around your waist, nearly bowling you over the cliff's edge. He laughed, breathless and wild.
“You came,” he grinned, joy radiating from him. “You really came!”
You wheezed a tiny laugh, unused and rusty. “You kind of gave me no choice.”
“Yup!”
He grabbed your hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and pulled you—dragged you—back toward the Sunny, where the rest of the crew had gathered. Their expressions were a mix of shock, relief, and, in Sanji’s case, hearts exploding from his eyes.
“Y/N-chwuaaaaan!!” he sobbed. “You finally came to bless this humble ship with your ethereal beauty!!”
Usopp slapped him aside. “Dude! She’s joining! Focus!!”
Chopper’s eyes sparkled. “I knew it! I knew she’d come!”
Brook waved his bony arms. “A ghost joining the crew?! That’s a dream come true for me! Yohohoho!”
Even Zoro, half-dozing with his arms crossed, cracked an eye open and offered the faintest smirk. “Took you long enough.”
Robin met your gaze, a knowing smile on her lips that seemed to say she’d seen this coming all along. Franky was already popping open a celebratory cola. “You ready for the SUPER life, Y/N?!”
Jinbei nodded, his presence calm but warm. “You’ll find peace with us. In time.”
Nami leaned on the railing, squinting. “So? You sure about this? You’re not gonna disappear mid-sail, are you?”
Your stomach flipped, and for a second—
Poof. Gone.
The crew blinked. Luffy looked around, mildly panicked. “Wait—Y/N?!”
Then you popped back into existence three feet to the left, hands covering your face. “Sorry! Sorry—I just—got nervous—!”
A beat of silence. Then the whole crew burst into laughter. Even you. It was small, unused, rusty, but it was a laugh.
Luffy pulled you over the railing, plopping you onto the Sunny’s deck with a satisfied grin. “You’re one of us now,” he declared. “No backsies.”
And just like that—you were home.
The sails caught the wind. The town disappeared behind the mist, now only a faint memory wrapped in sunlight. You stood near the rail, still clutching the flower crown from the little girl, its petals fluttering in the breeze. You couldn’t hear the town anymore. But maybe that was okay. You weren’t their ghost anymore. You were you.
And from the way the Straw Hats chattered, teased, and pulled you into a hammock of laughter, stories, and snacks—maybe you weren’t just you. You were one of them. And for the first time in years—you didn’t feel haunted. You felt alive.
Recently i got into Naruto and holy shit seals are absolutely amazing so i thought.
Seal Master Male Reader x Husband!Viltrumite
Before and beginning Season 1 invincible. Meaning Mark is 17 in the beginning of season 1.
Just imagine it you are a seal master and can bend reality with the right Seal.
You could be from the Naruto world but accidentally end up in another universe due to a seal mishap or a last survival resort.
So now you are in an alternate world of the Invincible universe, not Mainstream. There you make yourself a new normal life and everything was amazing what with your skills helping you forge everything.
Now you can do whatever you want in this new world! As the only Seal Master no one will find you out. No other enemy ninjas hunting you down or being sent on dangerous missions.
You could open a café, restaurant, flower shop, anything you want.
So imagine your surprise at randomly finding an injured handsome man in your backyard or smth.
For some reason your instincts told you not to tell anyone about him. So you took him in and nursed him to health with your medical seals.
The strange man woke up at your warm touch on him. It was a bit chaotic once he fully woke up. He tried to threaten you but you made quick work of that with your paralyses seal.
You don’t know why you still helped him after that but you did. At first he was weary what with him being so easily apprehended by a not viltrumite person but you grew on him.
Thanks to your seals on your backyard no human found out about the strange person now living in your home alongside you.
Of course you have a lot of seals everywhere around your home. Some for privacy, protection or simpler things like keeping your food perfect.
You used your seals to create an earth identity for him. So that you wouldn’t be interrupted.
It worked since you are a genius with seals and other ninja skills.
AFTER THE VILTRUMITE WAS FULLY HEALED
Despite being fully healed the viltrumite stayed there. After some time of growing closer and trusting each other you started learning things about each other.
He learned about your favourite seals, your favourite food, what made you laugh and many more things.
In the beginning he was struggling because of his viltrumite side being confused why those things mattered but he couldn’t help but want to learn everything about you.
It made him feel all warm and different than every before.
You learned about his heritage and what was expected of him as a Viltrumite. How he landed here because of a fight against another viltrumite gone wrong. How he only survived because of your seals.
Thats how badly it went wrong.
Over years you guys grew closer. Until 5 years later you were married.
It was beautiful with you creating a seal that allowed you to live as long as your Viltrumite Husband.
You two were so disgustingly in Love❤️
YOUR FAMILY?
It didn’t take long for you two to start looking into adoption which your Viltrumite Husband was surprisingly very okay with.
Anything as long as your happy.
So you visited adoption agencies everywhere but couldn’t find any child you really connected with.
Sure they were all so cute but you simply didnt connect.
For a while you thought all hope was lost but then you both found one.
While shopping outside in a market you heard cursing and turned around.
There on the other side of the street a small child was protecting a baby cat from a drunk adult.
The small child was fierce and obviously homeless.
You and your husband stepped in before the drunk man could cause the child any harm.
Your husband chased the drunk away while you kneeled down and focused on the small distrustful child and injured kitten.
„May I?“ you asked the glaring fierce child.
The child looked at you with distrust but looked down at the injured meowing small kitten.
They thought for a moment before slowly reaching out.
You carefully took the cat and sneakingly healed it, so that only the child saw.
The child watched with wide eyes as its small companion jumped back into their arms.
They hugged the kitten before turning their eyes back to you.
„…thanks“ the child muttered now not looking so distrustful anymore.
„Is the little one okay?“ your husband asked as he walked over to you three, the drunk man successfully chased away.
You nodded smiling at the love of your life before looking at the child again.
„Would you and your little companion like to come with us?“ you asked the child.
Yes, this is the one you have been searching for.
The child looked surprised as if no one has ever before chosen them.
It took a lot of promises and judgement from the child before they agreed to come with you and your husband. Of course one was to take the cat with you.
ADOPTION!
So after that it was only a matter of time and getting closer before you and your husband adopted both the child and the cat.
From the police you found out that the child was somewhere around 6 years old and in several adoption agencies but was often returned due to their fierce personality and attachment to the kitten.
Your heart burned at hearing stories of the child being chased out by other families.
Things didn’t immediately go smoothly after adopting the child and kitten. But over time all four of you became a real family.
Although the child was very shocked to find out about your abilities and your husband being an alien.
„I got adopted by a wizard and an Alien!?“ the child asked shocked.
You couldn’t help but laugh. No one has ever called you a wizard because of your sealing abilities.
Your husband blinked at being called an alien.
„An Alien?“ he muttered confused and a bit offended.
So yes you four became a very loving family. Your child always running to you two with their cat trailing behind to watch you two perform magic.
(So cute!)
After another year or two you told your husband and child about a seal you created.
One that you have been working on ever since you officially adopted the child.
You pulled it out, it looked very complex even more than the ones protecting your home.
„This is a blood adoption Seal, meaning that if you want we can use it and your DNA will become half-mine and half-your papas.“ you said and asked at the same time. You were a bit nervous.
Your husband and child lit up at the seal. So yes they both agreed. Your child bouncing around in excitement and screaming how they are going to become your real child.
Your husband hugging your from behind since this also meant continuing his Viltrumite lineage. Your child stopped their cheering to cringe at you two being gross.
It barely took a few days before your child was blood adopted. Becoming half Viltrumite and half you.
„Thank you my love…“ your husband whispered as he kissed up your neck. Oh. Yes that night you got spoiled by your husband for fulfilling one of his viltrumite desires he was never able to fully suppress.
You were not able to get up the next morning, thankfully a seal helped that, much to your husbands displeasure.
But still you two had your child to take care of.
„DADDDD I ACCIDENTALLY DESTROYED THE DOOR“ your child yelled now suddenly having Viltrumite strength and very much not being able to control it yet.
You and your husband looked at each other fondly.
„Go my love, take care of your mini-me“. You dramatically said, stretching on your bed. Your Husband getting up to help your child.
SEASON 1: INVINCIBLE
Over the years you two taught your child how to control their new powers and the ability to make seals, needless to say your child is a bit overpowered and very much loved by you and their papa.
Thankfully your child still kept their fierce personal but also adapted a more everyday calm and chill mindset.
Your child called you and your husband different names over the years dads, papa and dad or simply fathers when they think they are being funny. Yeah they got your bad Humor much to your husbands amusement.
Now your child is 17 years old, fully grown up Viltrumite Seal Master. One of their seals tripped off alerting them to someone coming closer, which normally doesn’t happen since they are sitting on a solidified cloud, they made with a useful small seal.
It was another teenage boy his age, floating closer. He was looking straight at your child with shock.
He talked to your child, your child thought it was nice. Especially after finding out he is also a half-Viltrumite like them.
They became friends, at least your child thinks so. Since they switched numbers. And they did take off flying together.
Although your child did laugh at him for his weird outfit and name „invincible“.
Wow a real Hero, your child thought sarcastically.
Anyways it was time for your child to leave, no matter how much mark tried to convince them to hang out longer. It was time for them to visit their dads.
Your child left mark yearning.
(Mind you this universe is way more happy than the other invincible ones. Mark variants do not have your child. This mark is destined for a happy and long life. With a partner who lives equally as long.)
FATHERS DAY!
Your child came to visit you two on Father’s Day to give gifts but also tell you about a strange other half-Viltrumite they met. One with the name Mark Grayson.
And how this Mark Grayson or also called Invincible is always trying to talk to them and find out more about them.
You looked at your husband.
‚Another Viltrumite here on earth can’t mean a lot of good things‘ your husbands weary blick told you.
You gave him a fond blick back ‚sure but all that wanting to find out everything about someone does remind me of someone…‘
Your husband blick turned protective, he grabbed your child and told them „Just keep on rejecting him if he continued to try and find things out about you“
Your child was confused and looked at you, you shrugged your shoulders.
Later after your child left, you and your husband talked.
„But still, another half-Viltrumite here on earth…“ you began.
„We should look into this“ your husband ended.
Part 2?
Just wrote this because I need more happy invincible universes 😭😭😭😭😭
I wonder why Mark is so interested in your child 👀
This is how I envision your future child, very happy and free to do whatever they want (I do not know how to shade) :
Sukuna with a sorcerer he stole and made his wife because she was strong as shit and he wanted her. ✌️
Sukuna who takes you and puts a ring on it IMMEDIATELY when you almost whoop his ass.
Sukuna who also tricks you into eating human meat just to fuck with you, and is 100% hard after punch him in the throat (he was 100% about the suffocate).
Sukuna who adores you, and also the challenge that comes with you. You’re not weak, and it’s such a turn on for him.
Sukuna will piss you off so you two can wrestle just for yall to fuck, depending on who has the upper hand is who tops. If you win? You ride him. If he wins? He’s got you face down ass up, mean ass arch in your back as he gives you the meanest backshots.
Sukuna who notices how your morals slowly begin to turn a little grey. And when you stop caring as much, happy in your relationship with Sukuna and accepting his weird ass personality, you don’t care who he kills.
Sukuna who almost cums in his pants when he hears you snapping at the staff. A few of the maids had gotten a little spiteful of your new position with their master and decided to fuck with you, ruining some of your finest clothes. So, of course you beat the ever loving shit out of them.
Sukuna is PLEASED.
This man is a FREAK. HE WANTS THAT COOKIE AND HE WANTS IT BAD.
While he loves the challenge you put up, he also loves to fuck it out of you, and watch you absolutely fall apart as he ruins you with both cocks.
Sukuna who wants you to have his babies. And wants to have a lot of them. He’s down bad. Down right almost most definitely in love. Even if he claims he isn’t capable of it. This man is obsessed, and he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.
You match each others freak and Sukuna would murder a newborn to make you happy.
Right so... this is longer than i intended and more detailed than intended, i humbly ask for your forgiveness for this reading more like a fanfic one-shot 😭 Theres just so much you can do with this idea and i wanted to do the SF brothers justice, this is less anti-harem centric and more daily life of MC centric so do what you will with it - id love to hear some thoughts on this though, im genuinely considering writing a full blown fic abt this prompt and writing out ideas here helps convince me. Also watch me turn SF Sans into a closeted fangirl in real-time bc i CAN and i WISH TO and i WILL... tee hee 😍 HT for next part maybe? idk hdafejkkl
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Months passed since the new recruit arrived, and you had spent most of those months avoiding the household all together, not that any of them were in any hurry to seek you out. Actually - apart from passing glares and avoidant glances the skeletons had seemed to avoid you all together now, and it didn't take you long to realize that it was the newbies doing. It seems the brothers had already begun to switch all their official mage dealings with the newbie, and you overheard them one night speaking of how nice it'll be once you were gone. It hit you hard, the unbridled JOY that came from those words. The first smile in months had graced your expression, this annoying assignment would be done soon, and you didn't even have to look for a replacement. Of course there was a technical issue there, the recruit was weak, you doubted they could handle the responsibility, but you'd be damned if you had to be reassigned to the brothers again due to their own poor judgement. You set up barrier upon barrier on the furthest borders of the property, weaving old and powerful magic unseen by the untrained eye, as invisible as a spider thread in the deep dark of night.
The day came sooner than anticipated, a sunny morning wrapped in late spring dew when an official courier brought you the sealed reassignment papers, you wasted very little time. There were no goodbyes, nobody to see you off, no see you laters. You just packed your bags and left, deciding to celebrate your release from this mock hell with a feast of your own making.
Days passed easily after that, your new assignment had been similar in that you were still expected to deal with monsterkind. As the official top ranking mage you were expected to oversee the immigration process of the newer species - finding them homes and determining the new borders, on paper that is - in actuality you were there in case it all went to shit. You were there to evaluate how big of a threat these newcomers were, and if all of it went down the drain, expectation fell to you to play both judge and executioner. It was all a terrible diplomatic hassle, endless meetings with diplomats and officials from both sides, meetings with the kings and queens, correspondence between the Archmage and the people on the ground, endless evaluations and negotiations. Where they lived, were they safe, were they able to integrate, political and financial concerns, provisions and temporary shelters were now your everyday cause for headache. It was there you met a pair of somewhat similar faces.
Black and Mutt were skeletons, and that fact had not given you the best first impression - unbecoming of you perhaps, to judge a book by its cover, but months of threats and insults could change even the most unbiased of people. The two were a tad different from the others however, something you found curious if not a bit strange, they were… respectful, if not a bit stiff. Charged as part of the Royal Guard - they worked closely with the rulers of Mtt. Ebbot, so you saw them often escorting officials to and from meetings. You had no reason to approach them, coming from the other side as you were, you technically outranked them quite a bit in the merging hierarchy, but it was one stormy night that made you all grow quite a bit closer in an alarmingly short period of time.
A pack of fiends had snuck their way into one of the lesser guarded shelters outside of Mtt. Ebbott, cunning creatures that fed off of magic. They were hardly a threat alone, even an apprentice mage could take on two by themself - unfortunately due to that fact they tended to gather in numbers, the recorded largest amount was around forty if you remembered right, this however, this was beyond your imagination.
You should have predicted it,it was your miss, your meager miscalculation, of course they would be drawn here, a cave sealed off for centuries, brewing magic for centuries, a breeding ground for anything magic, broken for the first time in centuries. You responded quickly, but by the time you got there it was already chaos, the loud thrum of magic permeated the air and both monsters and humans were rushed off of the scene, the ground was bloodied, a sign that you were already late. You assessed the scene as you rushed past the terrified civilians, you would need to clean it up quickly.
The resisting force had taken damage but they were holding, human and monster guards stationed at the furthest gate fighting off the onslaught of fangs and burning eyes. You took notice of the two skeletons fighting beyond the gate, they worked well together, soldiers of significant skill - you sped past them, an order to pull back immediately flew past your lips and you moved further into the swarm, Black had called after you but you tuned it out, as daunting as the situation seemed it was still below your paygrade.
It was a single spell, a light that lit up the sky, a deafening bang that rattled the ground and the job was done. Your hands stung from the forced speed of the cast, but you remained unscathed as you stood among the scattered ashes, burning flesh permeated the air. You sighed, the ever present mountain of paperwork on your desk was bound to double in size.
It was all damage control after that, rushed orders to your subordinates and rebinding of the barriers, but when you stepped past the gate once again to scout out the surrounding for any remaining threats is when the two skeleton guards approached you, they demanded to go with you- well the shorter one did anyway, it made your brows raise - there weren't many people left in the world that demanded things from you. You looked them both over, amusement in your eyes, and agreed, a challenge to keep up on your tongue.
After that things had slightly shifted, the skeletons greeted you upon meeting, saluted you upon leaving, you began to notice more monsters approach you with official papers or directives, it was an odd thing, mainly because you reflected on how joined it seemed all of a sudden. Before the attack you were mostly responsible for the human mages and soldiers on base, now it seemed your responsibilities grew their own legs and danced around the monsters as well. You saw more of the skeletons, Black in particular seemed curious, even though he never admitted it or outwardly showed it, it was subtle but you noticed, he often joined you for your nightly rounds even when not required to, it was a bit awkward at first, silent patrolling of the grounds, you had nothing to really speak about, and it seemed neither did he. You could not for the life of you figure out why he took such a sudden interest in your company but you also were curious how long he would keep it up, besides, having him accompany you seemed to put the other monsters at ease.It was on one of those rounds when you finally addressed him, he seemed surprised that you had, shoulders stiff, back straight as he looked at you with wide eyes.
“Don't you have more important things to do?” You asked, the question seemed harsh, but its harshness dissipated by the lightness of your tone, echoed by the stone hall in the moonlit night. He had opened his mouth but it was a moment before he responded, seemingly not expecting conversation, he turned away clearing his throat as he set himself to rights.
“OF COURSE NOT, THE SECURITY OF THESE GROUNDS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. CONSIDERING THE DISASTER FROM TWO WEEKS AGO ITS MORE EFFICIENT TO DO IT MYSELF.”
You hummed, continuing to walk, listening to the sharp sound of his footfalls a step behind you.
“Would it not be better to split up then?” You asked, your tone still light, your eyes observing him with a knowing glint.
“W-WELL YES, BUT FOUR EYES ARE BETTER THAN ONE, AND IT WILL SAVE TIME IF WE DO SPOT SOMETHING AND NEED A MESSENGER.”
And your guess proved right, his reasoning was weak at best, there was no need for both of you to do rounds together - you could clock a threat miles away even in the pitch black, and you knew for a fact that Black could handle himself well enough, and yet he seemed to want to be in your shadow all the same, you chuckled, but did not voice your thoughts.
Your relationship seemed to steadily improve after that, every now and again you would walk the shelter grounds together, and every now and again you'd exchange conversation albeit a short one, but it beat the awkward silence that was there in the beginning.
Mutt was different, he didn't seem to hold as much intrigue towards you as his brother, he was more so there by default as he seemed to almost always stay by his brother's side, in fact the only time you saw either of them apart was when Black joined you in securing the premises. The taller brother was an enigma, you had not heard him speak once since your assignment, a part of you wondered if he even could. But he didn't seem outwardly volatile either, more so apathetic towards the goings on around him. That opinion switched one busy day where a scheduling error had made the three of you take an overnight shift guarding a group of pompous diplomats. It was a nightmare, twelve straight hours of listening to empty boasts and endless rants about the economy, even you had begun to space out, this was probably worse than those month long scouting missions in Siberia you were forced into back in training.
You noticed the brothers were reaching their limit as well, you worried Black would leave indents in his skull with the force he was gritting his teeth and you were sure Mutt was half asleep as he wobbled on his feet, skull falling every odd minute or so.
It was a couple hours later when you found out you were scheduled for two more babysitting sessions except they were both at the same time, and both had human and monster envoys, Black seemed to mirror your frustration as you checked and rechecked the schedule.
One way or another you had organized a lower ranking mage qualified for escort duty to take your place for one of them, and Black had given his brother the order to attend the same one as you as he himself took the other, rushed words of “IT’LL BE QUICKER IF EACH OF US TAKES ONE.” after which you parted, the vote of confidence made you chuckle.
It was another four hours when you wondered if Mutt had passed away standing on his feet, he hadnt moved in a good hour or two, and skeletons didn't need to breathe so he remained deathly still. He stood behind the officials chair like a statue carved from marble, quite an unsettling sight considering the early hours of the morning and the sharp looming shadows casting off of him. The human envoys seemed to agree with you, considering the nervous glances being cast his way amidst the conversation, and you couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the frustrations of your job but you decided to hurry the meeting along with a mischievous play of magic, lest you join Mutt in his nap. A moving shadow here, the caw of a crow there and what do you know, suddenly all business has been magically taken care of.
You had woken the looming skeleton with the good news and watched as he attempted to stifle a yawn, he had checked his phone and noted that his brother had not been graced with the same fortune as you. You had asked if he would wait - a nod, you offered your office - a moment of silence, but after a while, another nod.
It was another hour at your desk, finishing up some paperwork when you heard gentle snoring on your office couch, a comfy thing that had served you many times for a bed in the days where your job kept you from home, the sound made you blink slowly to the skeleton that occupied it.
Your own exhaustion made you zone out in thought, the sight had an enviable peacefulness to it, it's perhaps why you didn't notice the phone that fell with a quiet thump out of Mutts pocket. It vibrated, once, twice, then for a third time, screen lighting up repeatedly. You rose from your seat, bones popping as you sighed and made your way over, if it was Black then it was probably asking where Mutt was, you should wake him.
Is what you thought anyway, what ended up happening was you being trapped in an iron grip stuck to a dead asleep skeleton. It happened so quickly and out of nowhere that you didn't even have time to process it, the long hours awake didn't help either. One second you're reaching for his shoulder and the next you're halfway on top of said skeleton, limbs wound around limbs. You blanked, what even was this situation, you never took Mutt for a cuddler, his grip is crushing, impressive for someone with no muscle, wait hold on.
You attempted to pull away, but the answering growl and tightening hold let you know that the skeleton didn't agree with that choice of options, subconsciously or not. Waking him up seemed a thing that you should do, but the option flew right out of the door once you thought about how this would all register with him once he woke up, it was embarrassing really. You attempted once again to move off of him but he turned, and dragged you along with him further into the couch. Ah, you had made it worse. Couch cushions pressed in your back and a very large and a very asleep skeleton pressing you into his ribcage, it seems he intended to keep you for a body pillow, now what.
The door slammed open and you blanked once again, this was a nightmare, you prayed it wasn't some disgruntled diplomat come to complain to you about something. You attempted to lift your head to see but the grip on you made your back pop and you groaned, breath knocked out of you.
“MUTT! WHAT IN TORIEL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING GET OFF THIS INSTANT!! NOW YOU DOG! OFF!” The yelling was familiar and for a second you felt relief, and then dread all over again as vertigo hit you. In his panic he had rolled, rolled right off the couch and onto the cold hard ground and had taken you with him. You groaned again as you attempted to get your bearings, lifting your gaze only to be met with bright purple, you blinked and watched as slowly but surely confusion turned into realization and then straight into horror, the brightness of the flush on Mutt’s face was there for half a second before he was gone, disappearing into thin air.
It took you a while to process the whole thing , even longer to reassure Black that it was an accident on his brother's part and that you were partly to blame for the situation as well. By the end of it all it was safe to say that you were exhausted, so you had locked up and went home, it was the morning after that you noticed that the lanky skeletons phone was still innocently laid on your carpet. You snorted, wondering whether or not the silent guard dog would come knocking on your door before late, or if it would be his ever principled brother in his stead.
Imagine or idea for an author lacking inspiration.
Universe: One Piece
Main Role: Y/N isekai Buggy the Clown
Possible AU: soul mate, omega alpha (but Y/N doesn't have a second gender)...
Tags: Independent Y/N, Human but strong Y/N, Yandere, possessive behavior, Forced marriage attempt, Y/N trained by Garp after saving Ace, Blue-haired Sakura?!, Dream of a peaceful life, Nostalgia, Adopt Uta, Cross dressing, Rossinante friend...
Synopsis: You've been reincarnated into the world of One Piece as Buggy the Clown, but it's clear there are some differences.... Buggy's appearance is just a masquerade... makeup, hair dye, etc. You are indeed a girl in hiding. ...and you decide to maintain this illusion because you quickly realize that no one on Oro Jackson is aware of your situation. Gathering your wit and common sense, you devise a plan that will allow you to survive and then live in this world.
Knowing a bit about the history of the crew of the Oro Jackson, you come to the conclusion that the best course of action is to stay with the Pirate King's crew until it disbands, but your instincts and your sense of observation tell you that this crew is not as healthy as the series wanted to make it appear...
A word of advice: beware of the captain and your shipmate (cabin boy)...and over the years perhaps more people will be added to this list, but you are a resourceful person, you will surely manage to outwit them, right?
I'm not really good at writing (even less in English) but I had this idea and I wanted to share it in one way or another. If anyone finds the idea cool and wants to take it up, I invite you to do so and I look forward to reading you ^^
