If Volo Was In A Mermaid/merman AU His Tail Would Be Based On A Shiny Milotic

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a gojo wedding would either be the biggest event ever or you’ll get married in secret and wait for the others to figure it out

(Okay... I have many, many, many thoughts about a huge, over the top wedding with Satoru but it’ll take another ask to unpack because I’ve got my own analysis as to why he’d do that even though he knows he doesn’t have to, but thinks he should anyway—IN SHORT: yes, extravagant wedding can totally be a thing with him, but some element of intimacy is retained, likely in the form of your guest list. It could be a destination wedding, with a 10-course dress rehearsal dinner on a yacht, private helicopter rides, and enough flowers to fill a small island, but there’ll be, at most, fifteen people involved, and we can talk about it later BECAUSE FOR ONCE I have thoughts about existing in the jjk verse LMFAO)

Now, secrecy seems the most plausible for a canonverse au. There’s precisely four people who know you and Satoru are married: Nanami, because he served as your witness, best man, and maid of honor all in one; Shoko, because Satoru asked her if she thought you’d even say yes (she told him he was crazy, and that you’d be crazier to say yes; when she finds out to two are wed, she offers you a celebratory cigarette and a warning that obstetrics was one of the curricula she’d grazed past when cheating); Megumi, who was angry when he found out because he found out after the fact and his pre-teen heart was a little hurt that his new guardians wouldn’t include him in such a thing—though he never voices any of this out loud (he is happy, when his emotions settle down, happiness is what he feels; he hopes that, hopefully under different circumstances, he too, can have that); and, Yuuta, who Satoru entrusts this information to after finding out about his situation with Rika, in an attempt to gain his trust and following to Jujutsu High.  

It’s easy to hide because nobody expects it—a fact that serves as a safety blanket, but, truthfully, makes Satoru a little sad. He knows he doesn’t deserve to feel that kind of remorse; nobody should expect him to be married, to find someone to want to be with him—and he’s built a façade and a career with the intention of swaying suspicion—but there’s a part of him that wishes that people saw him as someone that somebody would want. Not for his strength or power or position or influence; just, to have.

So, it’s nice, when occasionally Nanami comes over for dinner; when Shoko lures you into sharing one of her cigarettes and Satoru scolds you both; when Megumi will ask for you, will call you when he needs you; when Yuuta asks to meet you, because he wants to understand the love you two have for each other. It’s nice, and Satoru is reminded that he is not singularly alone in this world, that there is you, and your friends, and a small community of people who would not be in complete disbelief to remember that he is human, after all.

Your evil mother was killed by a demonic entity that took her form. It planned to torture you by revealing itself when you grew up, and feast on your terror and fear. When the day came, however, you felt no fear or despair. Instead, you thanked the demon for being the best mother ever.

Year's End Brings New Beginnings

Adashino x reader x Ginko

As per tradition, the town celebrates the new year.

The turn of the year. Significant not only to humans but to that of the spirits bordering beyond their world. With such reverence placed on the day, it had coalesced enough power to draw in the likes of Yokai and Mushi alike, using that energy to execute their own festivals and activities.

“Thank you for the ride and the trade,” you said, carefully sliding off the smooth back of the dragon you were riding.

The juvenile Tatsu rumbled, shaking its head dismissively. “It was of no concern. Since we were both traveling in the same direction, I don’t see why I couldn’t offer you a lift. After all, you always bring the best trinkets in exchange for my wares.”

Said items rested safely wrapped in your travel satchel, faintly warm from the imbued powers of the Tatsu. Gifts for Adashino and Ginko, something so that the three of you could match. You grinned, all sharp teeth and yellow eyes peeking out from underneath your fox mask. “Heading back to your family, yes?”

“Of course. The gates to our skies open today. I’ll be staying with them until it reopens again.”

“So you’ll be gone for a while, then. I’ll miss bartering with you.”

“And I’ll miss my little lupine trader. Don’t get into trouble while I’m away. Make sure to be here when I get back.”

“I’ll try my best,” you chuckled. “Safe travels.”

The Tatsu dipped its head in a bow, you following with one of your own before the spirit reared up and spiraled into the night sky. In the peace left after, you took a deep breath of the crisp air before setting off. Floating Mushi began to drift into the air around you, undulating and providing a soft glow of their own. Faint rustles of far-off movements alerted you to the ongoings of other nightlife, many most likely Yokais heading about, all with destinations to go just like you. The few you glimpsed wore masks of their own, drawn and decorated to their liking. You exchanged greetings to those who gave you one, well-wishes, and familiar conversations with those in the area that you knew well.

However, as you got closer to the town, Yokai presence got less. When then the edges of the forest opened up, you took off your mask and admired the view below you. The small seaside town was strung up with glowing lanterns, labor-intensive craftsmanship from the committee of elders that liked to weave in their spare time. They bobbed and swayed gently from the ocean breeze heading inland, one that rustled the strands of hair by your cheek. Music carried up from below, voices and chatter of a tight-knit community intermingling. Tonight, the villagers would spend time amongst each other, celebrating the teamwork and collaboration that brought them this far. It was vital, in a village like this, that people worked well together. Then, as the night wore on, the townsfolk would split into their own houses, winding down the clock with their own families.

Footsteps approached from behind you, a call of your name from the owner in a familiar voice. “Ah, there you are. Ginko was spot on.”

You turned around, fox ears perking up in surprise. “Adashino,” you fussed, leaving your view and approaching to fuss over the doctor. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous.”

The man shrugged, falling into step with you. “You were running late. Ginko couldn’t come because he was caught up in helping old woman Shiozaki bring out the treats for the kids.”

“I would’ve made it back eventually. Be more careful next time. You know that spirit activity rises with the peak of the moon today,” you scolded, hand delving into your satchel to rummage and carefully pull out your gift for Adashino. “But since you’re here already, I guess your gift will come in handy now.”

A hand-painted fox mask very similar to yours, but instead of the dark red details circling up the forehead and cheeks, his was a wood-brown base with a thin white ring over the eyehole where he wore his monocle. On the opposing side was a bundle of painted herbs that trailed up the cheek.

Adashino gaped at the item in your hand as you showed it to him. “Did you–Did you make that?”

“I had some help with making the charms stick,” you admitted. “But I got it done in the end. Warding and protection masks. Nothing big but it’ll allow your human status to remain somewhat unnoticed by lower-level Yokais. For you and Ginko, since you two just don’t know how to keep yourself out of trouble.”

As if demonstrating your point, a ratlike Yokai lunged out of the forest straight at your friend. You snarled and snapped your teeth at the offending spirit, a spike of ozone and wind blasting it back into the undergrowth. Grumbling, you beckoned to Adashino.

“C’mere, let me put it on you.”

The man brought his face closer to yours and you brought the mask to it, unfurling heather-gray cording and wrapping it around the man’s head. A neat bow and you adjusted it so it rested on the bridge of his nose correctly, covering up the top half of his face down to his upper lip as intended. You stepped back, looking at him before you took yours off the hook of your belt and put it on too.

“How does it feel?” You asked, looking at him through the eyeholes of your own.

His fingers were almost reverent as he ghosted them over the item on his face. “It’s… wow.”

“Articulate,” you laughed, turning back to keep your eyes on the pathway. “I thought I’d never see the day when I render great doctor Adashino-sensei speechless.” 

He straightened, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “Well, it’s just…. I have to admit that this is one of the best gifts I’ve received. I definitely have to take a closer look at this thing later.”

Grinning bashfully, you kept your eyes on the path. “Aha, you flatter me.”

Mushi flitted through the air, lining both sides of where you two were walking. They cast a glow on the otherwise dark forest, natural lanterns that made a path leading back to civilization. Gradually, their soft, bright glow fell into companionship with that of the human-made lanterns strung up, a sign that you two were near the town entrance. Down here, the music and celebration were much louder, and soon the golden glow of a celebrating community took over the forest. A quick shake of your head and all your Yokai features slipped back under the illusory spell, and you were reading to head into the town. Stepping through the entrance, it greeted you with a full display of festivities. 

Children chased each other, some dressed in their finest and some wearing oni masks. Sparklers were seen in every other hand and adults moved to and fro in chattering groups. There was an undeniable sense of warmth in the air and you could see why so much power had accrued on this day.

Your arrival was not left unnoticed, one of the men delivering jugs of sake pointing out your presence. “Hey, it’s the doctor and his friend! They’re back in town!”

There was a cheer that went up, nobody minding the masks on both of your faces since a few others were walking around similarly. You grinned and waved back at the townsfolk enthusiastically.

“Just in time, you know,” a soup stall owner said, pressing a cup of steaming broth with lotus into your hand as you passed. “I saw poor Ginko being ferried around by Tsumiki-san. The woman’s got him in a chokehold trying to put up the new year’s good fortunes around the town.”

“We’ll have to come to help them, then,” you said, lifting your cup in thanks. Taking a sip you hummed at the rich brothy liquid and passed it along to Adashino. Later you’d have to return the cup with a gift, but for now, you had a Mushi master to find. The doctor took the cup from your hand and you two traded sips until the entire thing was drained. Warmth spread inside of you, blooming in a mixture of happiness and contentment.

It wasn’t long until you two found your target, Ginko having escaped the older woman as he made his way towards you two. Your eyes lit up and you rushed toward the man. “Ginko!”

The man was out of his normal traveler’s wear, now in a green kimono that complimented his unique eyes. A small smile graced his face upon seeing you two. “I thought you got lost.”

“You know I have an impeccable sense of direction, idiot,” you replied affectionately, reaching into your bag. “Besides I come with something special.”

Pulling the item out with a flourish, you presented Ginko’s mask. His was a dampened teal-green, a semicircle of while swooping down over the left eyehole. Around the borders of the mask and other eyehole were carefully drawn depictions of the floater Mushis that inhabited the forest around here. 

There was a moment of stunned surprise. You shook it invitingly, waiting for the man to make a move. Gently, Ginko took it from you, turning it this way and that and paying special attention to the paint strokes making up the colorful Mushi. He glanced at the matching mask on your face and Adashino’s, who had caught up with you two, the faintest smile on his face.

Ginko tilted his head forward, offering you back the mask as he saw your barely contained excitement. “Help me put it on?”

You launched into action, slipping the mask from his grasp and expertly wrapping the cording around his head and tying it off in a neat little bow. Your cheeks ached under the weight of your indulgent smile.

“There,” you said softly. “Now we all match.”

“They’re lovely,” Adashino said.

“Thank you,” Ginko added.

“I’m no artist, the Yokai that was helping me could do much better but I wanted to paint them for you guys,” you admitted.

There was a small ruckus at the end of the street that brought your attention, one of the council elders traversing down the path ringing a bell in hand.

“Kei-san’s setting up the fireworks now! It’ll be ready in a few hours Remember to go to the beach if you wish to view them.”

“There’s our destination,” Adashino said. “We should go before it gets too crowded.”

Following the flow of the crowd, you three eventually ended up spat out at the edges of the building bordering the beach, fine sand underneath your feet. Lights were put up around the area too, torches throwing their orange glow into the dark waters behind. You found a seat on a low rock outcropping, enough space for all three of you to sit and flat enough that you could set down the earthen sake cup and bottle. Along the way, the sake vendor who first spotted your arrival had caught the three of you, shoving the drinks into Ginko’s hands before moving on to accost other folks with the same action.

“I heard Kei-san managed to get his hands on some big ones this year,” Ginko said.

“How he can find such things out where we are is a feat within itself,” Adashino sighed, lifting up his mask to reast by his temple. You and Ginko followed suit as you picked up the sake vase.  “But I’m going to be upset if I have to patch anybody up tonight.”

You ‘pssh’ed, pouring the liquid out for the three of you. “Relax. They’ve been doing this for… how long now? Everything will be fine.”

Ginko hummed in agreement, eyes scanning the gathering and landing on food cart when he heard your stomach rumble. “Hungry?” he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“A little bit,” you admitted, scratching the back of you head. “In my defense, I’ve been travelling.”

“I’ll get something for us to eat then,” the Mushishi said as he unfurled himself form his perch.

“Oh, oh wait! Here’s some coin!” Scrambling for your bag, you reached for your money pouch before Adashino slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you short.

“Just let him do it,” the man said jovially, already halfway done with is first cup. “He just came back from a lucrative trip after all.”

You didn’t miss the look Adashino exchange with Ginko as he left and huffed, leaning into his side as you crossed your arm. “Fine. Don’t think I didn’t notice that. I’ll get you guys later.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Adashino said, draining the last of his sake and reaching to refill it, arm still resting around you. “After you gave us these.” He tapped the maskresitng on his head.

Sticking your nose in the air, you teased, “What if I did it for selfish reasons, hm? What if this was a ploy and now that you accepted my gifts, I’m going to spirit you two away forever and ever?”

You could feel him shrug from beside you. “It can’t be that bad, being with you and Ginko. It’ll feel like home.”

That casual admittance made your heart squeeze, breath hitching as you took an obnoxiously loud sip of your sake to cover up. “I’m sure you two would get bored. Especially of me.”

“I don’t think so. Telling Ginko to stop wrecking his lungs would get old fast, sure. But the good partswould outweigh the bad.”

The thought of a life where you three could travel together, beholden to where the wind would take you made a sickly sweet smile stretch over your features. One tinted by the slightest bit of sorrow. Because of what you were, it would be no surprise if you ended up outliving your two dear companions, forced to bury their bones while you would be locked into centuries of youth before your father’s blood made short of your life. But at a time of celebration like this, there was no room for thoughts like that. So you shook it away, downing your drink and pouring a second.

As Adashino went for a third drink, Ginkgo returned ladden with food. A space was cleared for the man to set it down and your mouth watered at the sight. Steaming bowls of toshikoshi soba met your gaze and alongside them were also bowls of Ozoni. In it, pillowy mochi floated with witht the bright greens of komatsuna, one of the few winter vegetables grown here. To top it all off were the iconic fishcakes made local here and no where else.

A gentle bop to the top of your head made you snap out of your oogling. “Stop drooling or else the food will get cold,” Ginko chuckled.

Food was passed around, a few sips taken from your sake cup to wet your appetite. The first sip of broth was savored and you closed your eyes in bliss, leaning back against the outcropping behind you. “Just perfect,” you sighed.

The three of you spent the time in companionable conversation, passing the hours away. The vase of sake was drained and a second one obtained, that one nearly done when the murmurs of the firework show beginning spread through the crowd. You sat up, a little wobbly as you split up the final dredges of the sake into three even servings and once more passed them out. Adashino missed his cup the first time, but shushed your chuckles as he grabbed it on his second go. Ginko was quiet, but his tan skin was darkened in a drunk flush, watching with wrapt attetion as torches were brought up to the front where Kei-san and his helpers were waiting.

Chatter fell into a lull as the village chief walked to the front, holding the bells with him. He lifted them up into the air. They chimed and torches were brought down on the fuse. A sizzle and whoops as the sharp pop of the fireworks leaving their tube. Sparks flew as projectiles were launched into the air, a ring of bells accompanying as the chief swung them down.

“To a prosperous year!” You cheered, cheeks warm. The weights of Adashino and Ginko were comforting as they leaned into youChildishly, you thought of the things you did with your parents when you were little before everything fell apart.

(Your mother’s hand, smooth and cold. Your father’s shoulders supporting you from below.)

(Make a wish.)

Your blood thrummed with happiness, the power of generations of celebration singing in the air around you. They say that wishes made during these festivals held a weight that no other days compared to. Glancing to either side at your friends, and to the townspeople around you, you made a simple wish.

You wished to have this preciousness in your heart for as long as you could. 

As the trail of lights reached its peak, you thrust your sake cup in the air and yelled, “Kanpai!!”

The sky bloomed in a brilliant blaze of lights and colors, sounds of awe and cheers going up.

“Kanpai.”

“Kanpai!”

Twin cups clinked against yours, sake sloshing over the edges and catching in the vivid fireworks in front of you three. 

Oh please, mr. Stone is my father.

give me one good movie kiss

☆ based on some personal feelings/experiences and Mitski’s Nobody ☆

You’re thirteen when you’re first introduced to the idea of being alone. You watch as love notes are slipped into lockers, as shy, awkward confessions are shared between classes. You watch as your friends twirl their hair and blush, swapping stories about crushes and young love. You watch, you watch, you watch. A deep pit begins to form in your stomach. It’s stupid and it’s dramatic, but you’re thirteen, and everything is awful when you’re thirteen.

You’re sixteen when you start to feel like something’s wrong with you. The feeling hasn’t dissipated, instead, it’s only grown, transformed into a massive black hole, swirling in the galaxy of your mind. You watch as your friends get asked on dates, get asked to dances and prom. You watch as your friends get asked. You get your license, you spend time with friends, but you long for more. You long for that perfect movie moment — sneaking out, laughing as the moon hangs high in the sky, feeling loved in a way you think all teenagers understand. You’re sixteen, and you start to wonder why you feel so left behind.

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You Don't Need to Try to Belong

Sorry if the tone near the end doesn't quite match the rest of the fic something happened in the middle of me writing it and like all good writers do I used this as an emotional outlet. But hey, who doesn't want Marco to hold them amirite? This was meant to be shorter, but the rest of the crew hijacked it like the pirates they were.

Phoenix Marco x Reader (fluff, near-death experiences, dash of sickfic & hurt/comfort)

As the unofficial ‘Fixer-Upper’, the jack-of-all-trades of the Whiteboard Pirates with a helpful Devil Fruit to boot, you tend to overwork yourself helping any issues that arises. Sometimes at the detriment of your own health.

You don’t think you’d ever get used to seeing the sun rise over the horizon from your vantage point up in the Moby’s crow’s nest. 

The gentle blush of pink peeking over the horizon, watercolor-soft as the veil of the night pulled back. Blackness faded away to reveal the glittering waves of the ocean stretched seemingly infinitely all around you. It was a freedom given to you by the Whitebeard Pirates, one you could never repay.

Sunrise also had the added bonus of signifying the end of your lookout ship, the promise of your bed waiting for you.

Below you, on the deck, the morning bell rang out, signifying the official end of the night shift’s work. The hubbub of the ship coming to life stirred up as you climbed down the mast, seeing the specks of the other lookouts doing the same at the other crow’s nests. A few members glanced your way as your feet hit the deck, and you returned the greetings thrown at you, albeit with slightly less energy.

Your stomach growled as the aroma of food from the galley drifted over when you entered the halls. However, you didn’t join the others for breakfast like normal and instead went deeper into the Moby’s bowels to where the crew’s quarters were. You’d been bothered by a persistent headache all night, and you knew that going into the noisy mess hall would no doubt make it worse.

The shared cabin was thankfully empty for the most part, and you made it over to your hammock before collapsing into it and tugging the blanket up to your chin before blacking out, looking forward to the long, uninterrupted rest you’d get.

“WAKE UP!”

You grunted in pain as you were upended from your hammock, bedding and all falling down with you. Blearily, you sat up and squinted at the pair of legs in front of you, smacking your dry lips. You didn’t know how long it was since you’d fallen asleep, but you knew it was not long enough.

A freckled face and messy black hair invaded your vision, the inquisitive expression of one Portgas D. Ace showing who exactly it was that woke you up.

“Hey! Got a moment?”

Even though it was phrased as a question, you still found yourself forcibly dragged to your feet, his grip on your wrist the sole thing that kept you moving as you stumbled through the halls and out into the deck. Sunlight pierced your half-closed eyes, and you winced, squeezing them shut as you trusted Ace not to run you both into something. You two finally paused and you cracked your eyes open to show that you’d stopped in front of Striker, in all her dripping glory as she hung hoisted up over the deck.

Ace finally released your wrist, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry to drag ya all the to fix up the Striker for me? I’d ask Blenheim, but he’s with the other fleet right now.”

At the request of a fixing, you forcefully shook off your sleepiness. Tiredness still lingered, and that damn headache still nipped at your temple, but you pushed it all back. Alert eyes assessed the damage in front of you as you tuned into Ace’s chattering.

“I got cornered by a few small Marine scout boats and had to take the Striker through some sorta reef. Thought I got through it fine, but I guess the coral—”

A sudden thud.

You paused in your observation to haul Ace out of the way of the crew and lay him out straight before returning to the Striker. True to his word, the bottom of Striker’s hull was deeply scratched when you bent down to take a look at it. The wood was gouged in a few points, areas where leaks would’ve no doubt let in water. It was a miracle Ace made it back. You hummed at the thought, making a note to get Pops to talk with the young man about his recklessness.

The Striker swayed gently from the lines holding her up as you pushed gently, tilting your head to catch the sound of sloshing water in her bowels. It wouldn’t do to mend everything only to have her rot from the inside out by trapped moisture. When nothing came back, you nodded approvingly and crouched down, hand reaching up to touch the largest of the holes. There was a dim glow before the wood seemed to seal up wherever you dragged your fingers over it, returning to its previous pristine state. You did the same for the others, each spark and glow only tugging at the tiredness in your bones. It was light work, but you were still exhausted by the time you finished, opting to take a seat by Ace where he lay. You were only beginning to blink off into sleep when the young man sat back up.

“—scratched ‘er up real bad and—Oh.”

Ace blinked at the newly repaired full before turning to you, sending a thousand-kilowatt smile your way.

“F’xed it,” you mumbled, shooting him a thumbs up. Your head tilted to the side and you dozed off. While your Devil Fruit, the Mend Mend Fruit was extremely useful, it did take a toll on you.

Strong arms once again wretched you to your feet, and you squawked as Ace bodily hauled you off, cheerful as ever.

“Thanks so much! Let’s go get some food. I’m starvin’’”

You went limp in the newly minted commander’s hold, resigning yourself to your fate as he dragged you along to the mess. There were a few others there who were the stragglers from lunchtime.

Ace shifted you to drape over his shoulder like a sack as he assembled a plate for the two of you. The world flipped around as he set you down at a table, and you murmured your thanks, dragging heavy limbs to your utensils to force a few bites down.

A call of your name and a harried-looking Thatch halted right by your table, relief on his face. “There you are. Glad I could catch you. Think you can get that pipe done for us now?”

Your eyes widened as you straightened. Right. You were supposed to have stopped by this morning after breakfast to help fix up the leak in the piping that the division didn’t have the supplies to replace. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry, Thatch.”

Shooting to your feet, you pushed your plate to Ace and quickly set towards the galley, Thatch on your tail. The Fourth Division greeted you, wrapping up post-meal duties as they avoided one particular section in specific. Someone already peeled away the wooden boards to expose the problematic pipe, and rags were stuffed along the spaces in the wall and sprawled on the floor. As you approached, you noticed that there was something on the pipe. You squinted at the stain and sniffed.

“Is this–Is this dried molasses?!?” 

Thatch whistled and adverted his eyes under your scrutinizing stare. “We had to make do.”

You exhaled despairingly, pressing your fingers into the sticky mess. It was concerning how often you all ran short on miscellaneous supplies, despite being an Emperor’s crew. A glow sparked up, and you sealed the gap.

The sticky, dark substance stuck to your fingers as you withdrew them, and your stomach suddenly churned. Rushing to an empty sink, you quickly washed it off as you called back, “I’m not cleaning that.”

“Fair,” Thatch said. He withdrew a rag from his chef apron. “Thanks for this.”

You hummed as you exited the galley.

Somehow, those two actions seemed to unleash a catalyst upon your peace. The promise of rest seemed further and further away as you were directed all over the ship, fixing this odd thing or that odd part. Your headache never went away, only getting worse as nausea was added to the list.

Skull called out his thanks as you bolted away from him, clapping a hand over your mouth as you beelined for the railing. You made it just in time to empty your stomach over the side. The only food in your stomach—the meager bits you managed to shovel down before Thatch interrupted—splashed sadly into the water.

Shivering, you closed your eyes to block out the sight of the swaying waters below you. The railing dug into your stomach as you slumped down into it. Everything felt hot and cold at once, and you admitted to yourself that maybe it was time to lie down. No more using your Devil Fruit for today.

As you were straightening up, a scuffle broke out from behind you. It was two recruits, roughhousing or fighting, you couldn’t care either way. But before you could move, one of them stumbled and slammed into you. Your eyes widened as your grip slipped, and because of the way you were leaning over the railing, you felt gravity tugging you to the wrong side as you pitched overboard.

Your wide eyes were fixed on the spot where you just were, too stunned to make a peep. There was a shout of alarm on board.

It was never fun falling from the Moby Dick. Its massive size meant nothing less than a painful impact, and even a few broken bones if you were unlucky.

But you wouldn’t call yourself lucky either way if you fell over the Moby in the first place.

You slammed into the waves.

The first thing that hit you was the pain. Like crashing into solid brick, your back ached from bearing the brunt of the impact. Then the insidious cold seeped in, past your clothes, past your skin, until everything went numb. Bubbles swirled past you in a dizzying spectacle, and it would’ve been pretty if not for the death grip of the weight pulling down on your limbs.

Motes of bubbles passed your lips, but you had the foresight to not open your mouth, to not breathe. But that was all you could do as you sunk deeper, black edging into your vision.

They always said that drowning was a horrible way to go, the choking of water in your lungs. But to you, it felt soft. Like the welcoming of the tiredness you’d carried around all day.

It’s so easy,

Your eyes fluttered, lips cracking open, allowing the saltwater to rush in.

You could get the rest you wanted.

You didn’t feel the arms clamping around your waist to drag you upward.

But you did notice as the two of you breached the surface, water spewing out of your mouth as you coughed. It burned going up, and you clung limply to the form you now identified to be Rakuyo as he stretched up his other arm. “Bring us up!”

He crushed you to his chest as the two of you shot up from the water, hauled up by his living flail. You both landed on the deck again, him on his feet while you were still in his hold. However, that quickly changed as your body spasmed.

“Woah there!” The man exclaimed, quickly crouching down so you wouldn’t meet a second painful impact if you spilled out of his arms.

“Someone grab Marco!”

Quickly, you were set on your side. Just in time as you retched. More seawater (seriously you don’t know how you swallowed so much) came up, through your nose, through your mouth. Warm hands rubbed your back as you gathered the strength to prop yourself up, as the spasms continued. It would’ve been mortifying to have the crew see you like this if you hadn’t seen these same full-grown men projectile vomit their dinner after a few too many drinks. As of right now, you were busy trying not to feel like death warmed over. Someone’s oversized sash fell around your shoulders as they used it to dry you off of the cold water.

“What’s going on, yoi?”

Marco’s voice was like a balm to your raw nerves as indistinct voices murmured over your head. Someone draped something soft over you (a towel?) and you sneezed.

Like the world’s most pathetic, bedraggled, wet cat, you were picked up from underneath your arms and passed over to warmer ones.

“H-Hol’ on,” you slurred, getting wrapped up in the fabric around your shoulders. Your head lolled against a warm chest. “Might throw—throw up.”

Marco shushed you. “Don’t worry about it, yoi.”

Blue and gold flames fluttered to life around you, your aches and coldness fading away. However, you still felt that bone-deep tiredness, and your lungs still rattled wetly. 

“I’m taking you to the infirmary. We have to monitor your lungs, just in case.”

Aw, man. You hated to be a bother.

Weakly wriggling in his grip, you voiced your protests, “‘M fine. L-Lemme jus’ go sleep it off.”

“You can rest in the infirmary. I healed your superficial injuries, but I can’t fix the drain your Devil Fruit already pulled from you or expel any potential water. Don’t fight me on this, yoi.”

You let out an unintelligible noise, sagging deeper into his hold. The hubbub of the ship fell away into muffled peace as he entered the infirmary, greeting the nurses there.

“Goodness! What happened?” Lisa asked as she pulled out more towels and a pair of spare clothes.

“We had a tumble off the deck,” Marco said, setting you down on a bed in the corner and stepping back for the nurse to let her set the clothes down by your side. He grabbed the privacy curtain, readying to pull it close as he asked you, “Think you can get changed, yoi? Lisa or another nurse can assist if you think you’ll need help.”

You looked down at your shaking hands, then to the set of folded clothes beside you. It was a simple enough shirt and pants, nondescript for their versatility. “I’ll be f-f-f-fine.”

The shiver that broke your words into a stutter wasn’t convincing, but Marco didn’t push it as he pulled the curtains closed around you to give you a bit of privacy. His voice came from the other side, “Let me know when you’re done, yoi.”

It took you much longer than you’d like to admit, wrangling yourself into the change of clothes, but just when Marco began shuffling on the other side of the curtain, you managed to pull the collar of the shirt over your head with your stiff limb and wrapped your hair in a towel.

“I’m d-do-done.”

The curtains were pulled open again and Marco stepped through. In the span of time it took for you to change, the man had collected equipment of his own. His stethoscope hung around his neck, and he carried a blanket rolled up under an arm and a thermometer.

“Just a precaution, yoi,” he said when he saw you eyeing his getup. You took the blanket when he handed it to you. The back of his hand came up to rest on your forehead and he hummed as he began putting on his stethoscope. “I want to listen to your lungs and keep you here to rest up.”

Letting out a put-upon sigh, you tilted your head back, staying still as Marco pressed the cold metal of the chest piece into your skin, expression calm as he focused on your breathing. After a few moments, he pulled away and tugged off the instrument.

“Your breathing sounds alright from what I could tell, yoi. But your temperature’s a little out of its normal range. How are you feeling, yoi?”

With the assessment done, you pulled away and curled up on the bed, tugging the blanket up. “Blegh, fine. I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”

“You do that, yoi,” Marco said, patting your shoulder. “I’ll watch over you.”

Letting out a huff, you allowed the lull of sleep to finally pull you under.

***

Warm hands on your forehead and cheek stirred you from the fretful slumber you were in, and you murmured, trying to pull away from the disturbance. Your breath whistled when you sighed, nose closed by a painful pressure and the rattle when you breathed seemed more prominent than ever.

There was a quiet tut before they came back with greater insistence, pulling you into a sitting position. You resisted, but your limbs felt leaden when you tried to lift them up. A slow, pounding pain pulsed in your temples on top of that, intensifying when you cracked your eyes open. You squeezed them shut again, but that peek was enough to see the slight chastisement on Marco’s expression as you identified him to be the one taking care of you.

His voice was low, kept to a manageable level that wouldn’t upset your head as he said, “Looks like you’re getting a fever, yoi. That’s strange.”

Blue flickered through your closed eyes as a gentle wash of his flames coursed through you. The pounding in your head lessened

“Tried my best to alleviate some of your symptoms, but since most of them aren’t physical injuries, I don’t think helped much.”

“It’s fine,” you rasped, blinking the crustiness from your eyes as you sat up. “Thanks for tryin’”

He hummed, pulling away. “What I’m surprised about is that you’re getting so sick from a dip in the waters. As far as I’m aware, the waters in this part of the Grand Line should be temperate enough to avoid that issue, yoi. Unless…” He narrowed his eyes at you, suspicion flashing in his gaze as he picked up on your guilty air. “You were on deck at a time where you would usually be asleep, yoi. Why weren’t you resting?” 

“Listen,” you began. “You’re not allowed to scold anybody involved in it…”

Marco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I feel like I already know who it is, yoi?”

“Ace took me out to help fix Striker,” you agreed, ignoring Marco’s muttered ‘I knew it’. “Then we swung by the galley where there was something I forgot to fix for Thatch. Some of the crew caught me about, and it kind of escalated from there.”

The way the man tilted his head was distinctively avian. “Now, why would you do that, yoi? We’ve discussed using your Devil Fruit when you’re tired.”

You pursed your lips and adverted your eyes, shrugging. “I dunno. I couldn’t just say no.”

His eyes softened. “You know… You’re deserving of rest when you’re tired. You don’t need to bend over backward to please us. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Unbidden, you felt tears spring up in your eyes, and you blamed it on the mess running through your system, pulling away so you could wipe them.

However, Marco’s hands came up to hold your face, thumb wiping away the bit of saltiness that spilled over your lashes.

“Silly love,” Marco murmured as he tugged you into his chest and enveloped you.

Pliantly allowing it to happen, your face ended up buried in his chest. His hand rubbed your back comfortingly as he shifted to take a seat and pulled you into his lap. You sank deeper into him, instinctively relaxing at the soothing warmth he emitted.

“Nobody would think less of you for resting. There’s no payment to be on the crew beyond what you can safely provide. And you’ve done plenty, are doing plenty. Pops is not going to kick you out if you don’t repair Skull’s necklace or somebody’s sandals for the fiftieth time. You belong with us. We want you.”

You closed your eyes in embarrassment, hands coming up to cover your face. Marco’s chuckle jostled you a little bit, and the arm around your waist squeezed you, dragging you even closer to him. His flames flickered over you again, and you went boneless against him, hands dropping from your face. The ache in your chest that you didn’t even know you were carrying lightened with his presence.

“You just rest now, yoi. I’ll take care of you.”

You sighed, a trembling shaky thing. “Thank you, Marco.”

My contribution to the silly thing going around twitter right now lmao

♡ I LOVE NATSUME YUUJINCHOU WITH ALL MY HEART ♡

this anime makes me really happy and really sad at the same time :((( i love natsume sm!!