A/N: Spoiler warning, oc-ness, and etc. I have no idea where this came from; I was only reading the latest chapters with Ace in it. Here this comes. Truly hope you don't despise me, hate me, or any of the sort. This isn't my "common" background on writing.
Please leave a review. I need closure on this specific one, because I had no idea what I was thinking. Sorry if my grammar is awful; I'm a bad editor.
Thanks to all those who read, reviewed, and did anything else of the sort.
I do not own One Piece. I do not own Ace. I don't even own Impel Down. All I own is my oc and the plot.
What was there not to hate? The air, the cells, the food, the very building itself, there was too much to hate. This confinement, this imprisonment, it was overwhelming. Not so much the confinement itself, but how he came to be here. The manner of which he was thrust upon this damnation without a final goodbye. It sickened him to no end, knowing full well that the very person he sent out to defeat was the one who defeated him.
Blackbeard.
Portgas D. Ace, commander of Whitebeard's Second Division.
His main objective of departing his crew and subordinates was to avenge his fallen nakama; fallen nakama that had been betrayed by Blackbeard. He was going to make him pay for what he did. However, such a strong word, fate was not on his side. Recalling the very day he finally caught up with Blackbeard made Ace's blood boil, even in his destructive state, he wanted to fight him again. He wanted him to suffer the same pain their nakama did; he wanted to hear his screams instead of theirs, which rang in his sleep night by night.
Night by night. Day by day. He couldn't even tell which was which anymore. Being confined to a dampen, revolting, dead-like, cell could do that to a person. It made the senses more alert, but it altered time and space. If it weren't for the guard who stood beside the cell each and every day, Ace wouldn't know if it was the day before or the day after.
The guard.
His lips emitted a low growl, for what reason he didn't know. It wasn't as if the guard who was assigned to this level was a sadistic person. Well, he couldn't compare his guard to certain others, but his guard was indeed sadistic. It was the same guard who left the revolting statement of "food" on his plate every now and then, whenever the higher ups decided they wanted to feed the prisoners. It was the same guard he met on his first day, it was the same guard who left only insulting comments hurdled towards him, and it was the same guard all the same who forced the same low growl from his lips.
Slim fingers held tightly onto his jaw, squeezing it painfully until he could hear bones cracking. Disregarding the dry blood that was painted onto his face, a spoonful of what seemed to be mold from the very stone that was used to built Impel Down carried delicately to his mouth. Amongst his struggling, amongst his futile attempts to sway away from the sickening sight, the mold was force into his mouth. Gagging and coughing uncontrollably on the chalky, bitter taste Ace violently swung his body side to side, just to get away.
"Eat," Morgana demanded, "or I'll force it down your throat."
His guard was unlike any guard. Being the very few women who worked in this hellhole, Morgana le Fay was assigned to Impel Down's Level 5 only a few months prior to Ace's arrest. The first second he laid eyes on her, he knew she was not going to coddle or show sympathy for him as most females did in scenarios such as these. She didn't coddle him; she didn't emit any sympathy toward him whatsoever. In her eyes he was only another prisoner, a much stronger prisoner, but a prisoner nonetheless.
"Fuck you Morgana," he spit the mold at her, "I'll only eat when you give reasonably edible substance."
Her slender fingers could have recoiled into a dangerous fist; instead she only shot back, her eyes blazing soundless fury at him. Wiping the mold that lay disgruntled on her pale face, Morgan glared at the older man who sat before her. Dried blood covering most of his muscular and lean form, a large amount of it swallowing half of his face, he had truly fallen from grace. If it wasn't the food that frustrated her, it was the usage of her first name in such a manner.
He was inferior to her, how dare he speak to her in such conduct? No one dared to use her first name, and here he was casually throwing it out along with the procedure of profanity. A deep wound of disrespect, and for that she wanted cut out his tongue at certain times.
"They want you alive for your execution." She stood to her full height, "Don't tell me you're afraid of death."
He scoffed at her, "I'm a pirate, death should fear me."
"Hmm…is that so." She took in this information, "So tell me Portgas, what do you fear?"
"And why the hell would I tell you?" Flaking blood started to crack around his temple, "You're the enemy, remember."
Her eyes dangerously narrowed, "I'm not the one set up for execution." Her arms crossed nicely against her breasts; breasts that were nicely tucked beneath her modified women's uniform. Fighting off a sly smile, Ace couldn't help but take a peak at them. If he was a dead man walking, it couldn't hurt to stare.
"Think so." "You'll be surprised what tricks I can pull out."
A flat chuckled egress her full lips, "Really?" "I doubt a man in your predicament you can do anything to save your worthless ass."
"Whitebeard isn't the one to take likely to his nakama being executed." His eyes discharging the same fiery glow they had always done, "You'll be surprised at what he'll do; the World Government will be in an uproar."
Ace cheered inwardly as he noticed the drain expression that took over Le Fay's face. Her posture remained the same, her flawless and tall legs standing in a defiant manner, her honey brown hair trailing down her back. Her uniform revealed enough cleavage for the human's eye, but was drastically reduced from her fellow female. She wore mini shorts, and her knee high black leather boots met straight on up. Despite her alluring looks, despite her cleavage, Ace could glare her down like any other man.
Or any other pirate.
Fidgeting only slightly at the usage of Edward Newgate, Morgana regained her composure and frowned deeper at her prisoner.
How she despised him.
Yes, the majority of the prisoners sent to Level 5 were abnormally stubborn, but never in her time here or her career, which was much longer, had she ever had to bear this. A man who appeared no older than herself was challenging her since the day he arrived. Knowing full well the dire circumstances he was placed in he continued to joke and smile around her; teasing her, taunting her with his ever glowing gaze. It annoyed her, angered her, and brought her upon the line of insanity.
How could this man? A man on the death row no less put her through so much torment?
She loathed his smug smile, his matted black hair, and the dark, glowing gaze he would throw at her whenever he caught her in a bind. A large portion of the inmates that had been put under her jurisdiction had been utter fools, imbeciles who only thought of dim witted escape plans. After finally realizing they were doomed to perish in Impel Down, would break down and ultimately give in to their own distraught.
Unlike her previous inmates, her previous imbeciles, this man rejected to be filled with distraught.
This man, Portgas D. Ace. A man, who appeared to be no older than she, looked as if he had live a 100 years. The repetitive curve of his smile into his smug smirk made her want to back hand twice as hard as she did any of her other inmates. For some reason, for some inexplicable reason, she couldn't do it. A dark, ferocious gaze that would be unrestricted from his equally dark eyes was rare occasions, but unlike she had ever seen.
Much like the dangerous haki she had heard so much about as a child.
It was impossible for someone as the likes of him to possess such a power.
Then again, Ace had proved to her (in spite of their short time together) to be a man who discounted the impossible.
It incensed her even more knowing that.
Morgana wanted him to break. She wanted him to suffer and fall. She wanted him to be like the others, all the others who succumbed to their own madness. Each day she arrived for work, each early morning, she prayed for his defeat. She prayed that he would be sitting in his cell with the delightful look of his conquered form. On the contrary, each morning she awoke to, each stride she walked, she could always feel it.
Portgas D. Ace had not given up.
He would always greet her as he did for the past several weeks, "Good morning Morgana."
She would flare up.
He knew she hated it when he addressed her as such. He knew she wanted him to break; in pure defiance and pure annoyance, he decided to "entertain" her and make sure he had enough attitude for her to swallow.
Morgana would swallow it full.
And it made his expierence in Impel Down a bit more settling.
"Your beloved Whitebeard will not be able to challenge the World Government," her icy tone sending easily hidden shivers down his spine.
He darkly chuckled, "That's what you tell yourself." "You tell yourself to hide off your own mistrust of the World Government." "Come on don't be shy; I know how you feel about the World Government, I know how you see it."
Their regular bitter arguments had turned into a full blown conversation. On both parties they could feel the tension and heat rise on a fast scale. Ace wasn't lying to her; he could see it all over her face, her own loyalty dwindling on the line. Whenever her Den Den Mushi would ring and her ear pressed down hard on the hearing device, he could see the crease of her frown. Her own facial expression of disbelief; her negative feelings radiating towards her superiors could always reach his muscles.
He didn't say anything about them. He only kept his childish grin on his face, and would only tease her about it.
"Big boys said something you didn't like?" "Little Morgana gonna cry."
"Quiet you insect," she would hiss at his taunting tone, "if you must know, this particular call was about you."
His eyes widened in slight surprise, "Oh really, what is it about, my execution?"
A Cheshire cat grin curved onto her face, "Actually yes, it is schedule for seven days from now."
Morgana was positive he would break. She was positive he would finally break and witness the true defeat of Portgas D. Ace. She would at long last witness his body shiver with realization, his powerful eyes as a final point dulling down into dark pools of nothingness. With seeing it, with seeing his eyes go to the point of nothingness, would only prove to her that nothing was special about Portgas D. ace. That he was like every other prisoner in the building.
Instead, he did the very opposite.
To Ace, in his mind, it was not surprising. Hearing those words come fluently from her lips did not shock him in the least. As he always did, as most of his family members did, his thin lips curved up into a triumphant grin. Not only grinning of the news, but the pure and utter expression of disbelief that crashed upon Morgana. Her eyes revealing that she simply didn't understand what was going through her mind, and when her disbelief faded from view all there was left was anger.
Anger.
Why?
A question of a lifetime. Why? Why did he refuse to be broken? Why did he refuse to submit to the world around him? Why, why, why? Why couldn't he be like everyone else?
And why couldn't Morgana le Fay break him?
Why couldn't he be like everyone else? Why did he hold that same idiotic grin whenever she saw him? Why did he always seem to be in a chipper mood despite his surroundings? Whenever she challenged him, whenever she crossed the line, why did it feel like he won instead of the other way around?
Damn him to hell.
Everything about Morgana was intriguing, Ace believed. Stubborn, bossy, and intimidating, he didn't meet many women like her. Considering most of the girls he met were normally sweethearts and kind hearted women, Ace couldn't believe there were women like her alive. For some odd reason, he found it…enticing. Most women were normally attracted by his looks or his charms. There were some who even chased after him periodically, but this woman…Morgana le Fay had put up a challenge. If he wanted Ace could have gotten any woman he pleased. He was desirable, he was handsome, and he was charming.
When he watched her, he wanted her. He liked the way she move, the way her glare would beat him down, how her heels clicked on the concrete floor. The defiance in her body movements, the way her hips moved from side to side. It was alluring; the way she was moving was thought provoking.
Ace by no means was perverted. Yes, being a male, his mind did wonder off at times on the opposite sex. If he had ever had a "true" experience with a female, he had it already planned. A relatively decent place, romantic scene, the works. Living the life he lived, however, put a dampen mood on his "romantic" setting. He knew it was impossible for a pirate to have a "romantic" moment with a woman; however, it didn't mean he couldn't daydream. It didn't mean he couldn't imagine having a woman by his side. Then the overwhelming quilt having to put her through so much damage and danger would get to him.
When he looked at Morgana, he couldn't see the guilt. If it was possible, if their lives were different, could they be an item?
He scoffed at the very idea.
It did bring upon tempting ideas. If he had her. His finger tips would burn her very skin, causing her to squirm beneath him, her fragile body trying to run from him and yet wanting more. To torture, to see her hazel eyes blurred with desire, her nails piercing his skin, and all the same…
He would have broken her.
Evidently he would make her beg. To her plea, whimper, kneel on her knees, and imaging her down on her knees made him hot thinking about it. Snatching the very strength that she exuded day by day; forcing her body and mind to crumble beneath his heat, his skin, and the very muscles that would trap her under him. Her mouth he would capture with his own, her curves he would tame with his burning tips, all that she owned would belong to him.
She would break.
"You know when this all passes by; I'll teach ya few things Morgana." Ace chuckled at her retreating figure.
She could detect his mocking tone and she clenched his fists, "I doubt it."
"Oh come on babe," he grinned widely, "don't be that way, I promise ya-you won't regret it."
Morgana walked on, desperately trying to ignore his words. Ace took notice of this easily, his perceptive skills beyond the average man.
"I know you want me."
Morgana clutched onto the bars for dear life. The way he said it, the way his words left his mouth in such a seductive growl. It made her heart pump at a race she had only felt when she was training or fight off idiotic inmates who were trying to escape. She didn't dare look back at him; she didn't dare turn around to see the prideful look in his dark eyes or the haughty grin that normally caressed his handsome features. She was a young woman of pride and loyalty molded and formed into perfection by the World Government; she had always fought at all costs, defended the name of justice.
Her duties came first.
Ace was inferior. He couldn't even compare to her.
An inside voice continously told her it was the other way around.
As she walked away from her, pushing the cell bars open, she could still feel his dark eyes beating into her. Each second he stared, each second his eyes scanned over her waiting patiently for her breaking point.
I know you want me.
Her head banged onto her desk.
His triumphant glow brightened his cell.
Whenever he escaped, if he ever got out before his due date, he was going to dominate her. He was going to do everything he wanted to do to her as in his fantasies, and it would be willingly. Each stroke, each clutch, she would beg for more, and he would contentedly oblige to each whimper, each request. He would prod her, touch her most sensitive parts and their minds will swirl into a pool of lust and taunting.
All the same he would scar her. His very essecne following her every place she went. It would be impossible for her to wash him from her, no matter how many times she bathed in steaming hot water, he would be there. She wouldn't be able to run away from him. Forever burned into her mind she would remember how it felt when his fingers trailed up and down her thighs how they toeyd with her most private areas. How her tongue forced into a submissive state, where she could only fidget beneath his muscles. How he would suck and devour each and every string of her prideful self, transforming her into his and only his. While all of this would be happening, he would be scarring her. His very presence etched into her nude form, his sensual kisses, his murmuring in her ear. She would be scarred.
Ace knew this.
Morgana knew this too.
When the time came she would moan his name in pure lust; her eyes dilating to a point of foreign measure. He knew, they knew all too well…
Portgas D. Ace would have broken her.
A/N: I am pretty sure Morgana has Mary Sue characteristics and is probably a Mary Sue. When I started writing I thought of a guard who had this dual relationship with Ace, and she formed from it. I could have tried to make her non Mary Sue but then she would have been incredibly Mary Sue, and if I did (which I didn't) you would obviously see it. I just went with the flow of the story and what type of girl I wanted in it, while listening to Katy Perry's "Thinking of You". If you hate her, then you hate her-nothing I can do about that. Don't worry nothing is going to come from this; it's only a drabble I felt like doing. Please if you decide to review, leave a constructive response, which will be appreciated. If you wish to flame, then flame. Maybe I deserve this because I am taking a risk with posting this particular one shot.
Give me advice, I need advice.
Once again, thank you to all who read, reviewed, and did anything else of the sort.
Have a bless day!