Wind Demon (One Piece x Male Reader)

Emporio Ivankov

The world was quiet, painfully quiet, save for the distant howl of the icy wind that sliced through the frigid air like a blade. Y/N stirred, his body sinking deeper into the biting cold as if the frost itself sought to claim him. Every breath he drew was sharp, each inhale scraping against his raw lungs.

When his eyes flickered open, all he could see was a sea of white—snow and ice stretching endlessly in every direction. The pale light of the prison cell barely illuminated the iron bars that stood like solemn sentinels, enclosing him in this frozen tomb.

His body felt impossibly heavy, his limbs stiff and unresponsive. The frost had seeped into his very core, numbing him to everything but the relentless chill that gnawed at his back. He tried to lift his head, but it felt as though his neck was encased in stone. It would have been so easy to give up, to let the cold take him, to let his body succumb to the freezing void.

But then, in the darkness behind his eyelids, a flicker of warmth. A fleeting memory.

It came to him like a lightning bolt—an image of Ace, his trademark grin lighting up his face like the sun breaking through storm clouds. In the vision, Ace was smiling down at him, his hand outstretched as though ready to pull him from the depths of despair. For a fleeting moment, Y/N's frozen heart thawed, and he reached out desperately, his fingers trembling with the need to grasp that hand.

But before he could make contact, Ace faded into the shadows, dissolving like smoke into the void, leaving behind an aching emptiness that made the cold feel even sharper. Panic surged through Y/N's veins, a fear that jolted him awake. His eyes flew open, wide and wild, and his lips parted in a desperate cry.

"ACEEE!!!"

The name ripped from his throat like a roar, echoing off the iron bars and stone walls, a sound so raw it seemed to shake the very air around him. The sudden movement sent his weakened body crashing forward, and he fell onto his stomach with a dull thud.

Every breath came in shallow gasps, his vision spinning as his body teetered on the edge of consciousness.

But then, through the haze, a voice pierced the air.

"STRAW-CHAN! WIND-CHAN!"

The words were bright, almost absurdly so, carrying an energy that seemed utterly out of place in the desolate prison. Y/N's head turned weakly toward the sound, his vision too blurred to make out the figure, but the voice was unmistakable. "I CAME TO HELP YOU... IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP!!"

Y/N's heart wavered, a flicker of hope fighting to stay alive against the oppressive cold. Bon Clay's voice rang out again, cracking slightly with emotion. "...I'M SORRY... FOR RUNNING AWAY!!!"

The words reverberated through Y/N's mind, anchoring him to the present, pulling him back from the brink. But the effort to stay awake, to hold onto that fleeting sliver of hope, was too much for his battered body. His eyelids grew impossibly heavy, and the cold began to swallow him whole once more.

The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was the sound of Bon Clay's determined voice echoing in the distance, a fragile light in the vast, endless cold.

The next time Y/N's eyes fluttered open, the world was a blur, his vision swimming with streaks of light and shadow.

His head throbbed, a dull ache radiating through his skull, and his body felt heavier than it ever had before, as though the iron chains that bound him were made of stone. He blinked slowly, his gaze settling on a figure standing in front of him—a strange, almost theatrical presence that seemed entirely out of place in the grim surroundings.

The figure had wild purple hair that framed their face in voluminous waves, and thick mascara rimmed their piercing eyes. Their expression was a mixture of amusement and gravitas, their painted lips curled into a smirk. The vibrant colors of their outfit contrasted sharply with the bleak, lifeless walls of the cell.