#a zoan anatomy remix
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(Not your average) Blushing Maiden
(Or, "An Introduction to Zoan Anatomy"-zoan anatomy 101 remix) I'd also like to dedicate this version of the idea to @xamaxenta
Marco eats his fruit three weeks before his 17th birthday. It takes him exactly 1 hour to notice that something has dramatically changed about his body-mostly because he spent most of that 60 minutes doubled over with incredible stomach cramps. But the second those subsided he realized he had to pee and moments after that-
Well. He hadn't reacted well, in the slightest. There was screaming, and his first ever full transformation, involved. It was traumatic, even. Pops, after consulting with Whitey and Jozu, immediately set course for the North Blue to an island famous for it's medical advancements. They assumed, correctly, that this "White City" would be able to find answers to Marco's insanely weird new problem.
The tests were many, invasive, and took multiple hours a day-every day, for an entire month. Nearly the entire hospital staff they consulted with, plus several animal sanctuaries, got involved. In the end, Marco was left with a hard-to-process reality.
Gone was the previous anatomical features he was used to-that he had tied his identity to-and in the place of his dick and balls was. Just another hole. At first it was mortifying, embarrassing, and shameful. Half the jokes he used to tell were suddenly cruel jabs at himself. Half the conversation of the crew suddenly felt like an indictment of his lacking.
It took him nearly to his 30th birthday to come to a place of real acceptance. The process required the assistance of his family's steadfast refusal to think less of him, and several meetings with a very strange group of people calling themselves "the okama kingdom." Slowly, but surely, he figured it out. He got there.
Where before he hid every stormy emotion of the day underneath a relaxed veneer, now at the age of 40 he openly expressed how he felt. Happiness was all smiles, anger a downturn set of eyebrows with a frown, sadness was shown with tears, stress was a pair of hunched shoulders and tight lips.
Where before he envied other men for the ease in which they proclaimed themselves such, now Marco knew-just as surely as he had before his fruit-he was just as much "male" as they were. He didn't need a dick and external testicles to prove it-just his fists and the occasional flash of talon. No one had joked about his lack of balls in decades, but he knew that if the punchline came up he could roll with it easily.
Where before he would get angry enough to lash out, or scared enough to flat out hide, on his bad days where the alteration of his body bothered and unnerved him, Marco now instead could lean on his brothers and sisters among the crew. Izou happily kept his quarters unlocked for Marco's bad days, as did Thatch and Rakuyo and Jozu and Pops. Even Vista, and the more reserved Namur, gladly let Marco hang around in awkward silence when he knew he couldn't be alone with his thoughts.
His lack of sexual experience never bothered him before now. He figured out his own needs-what worked, what didn't, and the things in between-and then held himself back. He knew there were people out there who wouldn't be bothered by his body-in fact, if Shanks were any indication, there were likely people out there who'd be really into his body-but the difficulty in explaining things made him hesitate. Eventually he decided that tending to his own lust by himself was preferable to fumbling through awkwardness with a partner. Even the few times he genuinely thought finally taking the plunge with someone, something would hold him back. (A niggling, scared voice that reminded him of himself at 18 whispered how can you prove they won't brag, that they won't turn you into a joke once you're gone?)
Then along came Ace, incredible and bullheaded. And Ace brought with him something Marco didn't think he'd ever find. Ace with his fire and fiery personality. Ace with his whip-smart brain, with his incredible body, with his brighter-than-the-sun smile, with his flirty grins and heated looks. Ace brought hope.
(The voice would tell him Ace brought trouble.)
#AR writes#not your average blushing maiden#a zoan anatomy remix#trigger warning for body dysphoria#marco still identifies as a man but his fruit changed parts of him that he assumed made him a man#and he's gotta deal with that somehow
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Ace flirts as easy as breathing, and it only catches Marco off guard once he realizes that Ace is being serious.
The first six months, Marco makes jokey retorts and humorously flirted back. Sometimes it even got physical, a strange game of personal-space chicken that only ended when Marco or Ace's duties drew them away. Then the day Ace finally kissed him came and Marco was left clueless for what to do next.
After the painfully awkward pause when Ace drew away, Marco panicked. He laughed, then rubbed his face. "Oh shit-yoi. I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"
Ace, hands up, also panicked. "Shit, no, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you don't want-"
Marco, brain still stuttering and tripping over itself, reached out to take one of the younger man's hands. "No no no no, it's not that-I just. I do want-"
He stops, tongue tied and uncertain. He glances around and, after catching at least three people staring from down the hall, he squeezes Ace's hand. "It's just...I didn't think you were being serious-yoi. I do..."
They both swallow, staring at their joined fingers. Ace squeezes back. "Right, right. Of course, yeah. I'll just-"
He tries to pull away, Marco yanks him closer. His stomach twists in knots and drops down into his feet. "No no no, please stay. I just, I have-I need to explain some things-yoi."
Marco, carefully at first then with more confidence as Ace follows, leads the younger man down the hall. A tense few minutes of navigating the way and Marco quietly lets them into his room. Ace, apparently having regained his bravado during the walk, makes himself at home on Marco's bed while Marco begins to internally panic again.
"So. Um. You obviously like me-yoi." Marco starts with the obvious.
Ace nods. "Yup. And you like me or we probably wouldn't be here, right?"
Marco manages a nod. He swallows, throat clicking, and presses himself back against his own door. "And...what do you want, out of this?"
"Well, I'd like to kiss you again. If you're alright with that." Ace, at least, seems to know exactly what he wants from him.
"I think I'd like that too. What about past that-yoi?"
Ace shrugs, jostling his hat where it hands over his back. "Well...If you don't want to have sex, that's okay. But I'd really like the kissing part."
Marco swallows again. His stomach is still twisting, heavy like a lead weight.
"Sex would be. Complicated-yoi."
(Not your average) Blushing Maiden
(Or, "An Introduction to Zoan Anatomy"-zoan anatomy 101 remix) I'd also like to dedicate this version of the idea to @xamaxenta
Marco eats his fruit three weeks before his 17th birthday. It takes him exactly 1 hour to notice that something has dramatically changed about his body-mostly because he spent most of that 60 minutes doubled over with incredible stomach cramps. But the second those subsided he realized he had to pee and moments after that-
Well. He hadn't reacted well, in the slightest. There was screaming, and his first ever full transformation, involved. It was traumatic, even. Pops, after consulting with Whitey and Jozu, immediately set course for the North Blue to an island famous for it's medical advancements. They assumed, correctly, that this "White City" would be able to find answers to Marco's insanely weird new problem.
The tests were many, invasive, and took multiple hours a day-every day, for an entire month. Nearly the entire hospital staff they consulted with, plus several animal sanctuaries, got involved. In the end, Marco was left with a hard-to-process reality.
Gone was the previous anatomical features he was used to-that he had tied his identity to-and in the place of his dick and balls was. Just another hole. At first it was mortifying, embarrassing, and shameful. Half the jokes he used to tell were suddenly cruel jabs at himself. Half the conversation of the crew suddenly felt like an indictment of his lacking.
It took him nearly to his 30th birthday to come to a place of real acceptance. The process required the assistance of his family's steadfast refusal to think less of him, and several meetings with a very strange group of people calling themselves "the okama kingdom." Slowly, but surely, he figured it out. He got there.
Where before he hid every stormy emotion of the day underneath a relaxed veneer, now at the age of 40 he openly expressed how he felt. Happiness was all smiles, anger a downturn set of eyebrows with a frown, sadness was shown with tears, stress was a pair of hunched shoulders and tight lips.
Where before he envied other men for the ease in which they proclaimed themselves such, now Marco knew-just as surely as he had before his fruit-he was just as much "male" as they were. He didn't need a dick and external testicles to prove it-just his fists and the occasional flash of talon. No one had joked about his lack of balls in decades, but he knew that if the punchline came up he could roll with it easily.
Where before he would get angry enough to lash out, or scared enough to flat out hide, on his bad days where the alteration of his body bothered and unnerved him, Marco now instead could lean on his brothers and sisters among the crew. Izou happily kept his quarters unlocked for Marco's bad days, as did Thatch and Rakuyo and Jozu and Pops. Even Vista, and the more reserved Namur, gladly let Marco hang around in awkward silence when he knew he couldn't be alone with his thoughts.
His lack of sexual experience never bothered him before now. He figured out his own needs-what worked, what didn't, and the things in between-and then held himself back. He knew there were people out there who wouldn't be bothered by his body-in fact, if Shanks were any indication, there were likely people out there who'd be really into his body-but the difficulty in explaining things made him hesitate. Eventually he decided that tending to his own lust by himself was preferable to fumbling through awkwardness with a partner. Even the few times he genuinely thought finally taking the plunge with someone, something would hold him back. (A niggling, scared voice that reminded him of himself at 18 whispered how can you prove they won't brag, that they won't turn you into a joke once you're gone?)
Then along came Ace, incredible and bullheaded. And Ace brought with him something Marco didn't think he'd ever find. Ace with his fire and fiery personality. Ace with his whip-smart brain, with his incredible body, with his brighter-than-the-sun smile, with his flirty grins and heated looks. Ace brought hope.
(The voice would tell him Ace brought trouble.)
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It's a three hour long talk. At the end of it, by some miracle, Ace still wants to give it a shot.
In deference to Marco's hilarious lack of experience, they take things slow. Marco's taken care of his own lust, figured out how his body works by himself, for decades. Ace, it turns out, is eager to give it a shot for himself.
It still takes Marco several months to work up the courage to let him, though. Months of heavy kissing and heavy hands, weeks of waking up to an erection poking him in the thigh or ass, and at least five days worth of frustrated showers on Ace's part. Marco plans the whole evening out, because of course he does.
It's supposed to go like this: The Moby Dick is stopped to resupply at Sabaody. Marco oversees the process for the few days but the last two he has completely to himself. He figures Ace will appreciate the time. They'll have lunch, Marco will swipe a covered dish for them to split for dinner (well, for Marco to pick at while Ace devours most of it), and they won't emerge from his bedroom until the day they have to leave the island.
The plan goes completely off the rails.
It instead goes like this: The Moby Dick is stopped to resupply at Sabaody. Marco oversees the process for the first few days, then on the first day he has to himself a rookie crew gets too big for it's britches and picks a fight it can't win. The fight drags long, only because their ship is small and nimble, and Marco is fucking frustrated at the end of it. Frustrated enough that he just starts picking up men off the enemy deck and flat dropping them from height while Izou backs him up with a long rifle from the Moby.
When the ship finally goes down, the rookies either dead or wishing they were dead, Marco lands on the deck with a stressed snarl. They'd missed lunch entirely and dinner was likely going to be a lost cause too. Inventory to be done, what little damage there was had to be reported and cataloged and addressed, injuries to be seen to...
Marco doesn't get back to his room until nearly breakfast the next morning. Ace is asleep in his bed, sheets half off him, and if he weren't ready to pass out himself that sight alone would have his blood running hot. Instead it's just a mildly bitter reminder of what he could have been doing.
He collapses in to bed next to Ace and promptly falls asleep. He wakes up only a few hours later to a hot-slick-hot tongue working it's way into him, warm-firm-warm hands holding his hips down, and an orgasm. Absolutely not according to plan, but Ace makes it work with what he has.
Things go much smoother after that.
(Not your average) Blushing Maiden
(Or, "An Introduction to Zoan Anatomy"-zoan anatomy 101 remix) I'd also like to dedicate this version of the idea to @xamaxenta
Marco eats his fruit three weeks before his 17th birthday. It takes him exactly 1 hour to notice that something has dramatically changed about his body-mostly because he spent most of that 60 minutes doubled over with incredible stomach cramps. But the second those subsided he realized he had to pee and moments after that-
Well. He hadn't reacted well, in the slightest. There was screaming, and his first ever full transformation, involved. It was traumatic, even. Pops, after consulting with Whitey and Jozu, immediately set course for the North Blue to an island famous for it's medical advancements. They assumed, correctly, that this "White City" would be able to find answers to Marco's insanely weird new problem.
The tests were many, invasive, and took multiple hours a day-every day, for an entire month. Nearly the entire hospital staff they consulted with, plus several animal sanctuaries, got involved. In the end, Marco was left with a hard-to-process reality.
Gone was the previous anatomical features he was used to-that he had tied his identity to-and in the place of his dick and balls was. Just another hole. At first it was mortifying, embarrassing, and shameful. Half the jokes he used to tell were suddenly cruel jabs at himself. Half the conversation of the crew suddenly felt like an indictment of his lacking.
It took him nearly to his 30th birthday to come to a place of real acceptance. The process required the assistance of his family's steadfast refusal to think less of him, and several meetings with a very strange group of people calling themselves "the okama kingdom." Slowly, but surely, he figured it out. He got there.
Where before he hid every stormy emotion of the day underneath a relaxed veneer, now at the age of 40 he openly expressed how he felt. Happiness was all smiles, anger a downturn set of eyebrows with a frown, sadness was shown with tears, stress was a pair of hunched shoulders and tight lips.
Where before he envied other men for the ease in which they proclaimed themselves such, now Marco knew-just as surely as he had before his fruit-he was just as much "male" as they were. He didn't need a dick and external testicles to prove it-just his fists and the occasional flash of talon. No one had joked about his lack of balls in decades, but he knew that if the punchline came up he could roll with it easily.
Where before he would get angry enough to lash out, or scared enough to flat out hide, on his bad days where the alteration of his body bothered and unnerved him, Marco now instead could lean on his brothers and sisters among the crew. Izou happily kept his quarters unlocked for Marco's bad days, as did Thatch and Rakuyo and Jozu and Pops. Even Vista, and the more reserved Namur, gladly let Marco hang around in awkward silence when he knew he couldn't be alone with his thoughts.
His lack of sexual experience never bothered him before now. He figured out his own needs-what worked, what didn't, and the things in between-and then held himself back. He knew there were people out there who wouldn't be bothered by his body-in fact, if Shanks were any indication, there were likely people out there who'd be really into his body-but the difficulty in explaining things made him hesitate. Eventually he decided that tending to his own lust by himself was preferable to fumbling through awkwardness with a partner. Even the few times he genuinely thought finally taking the plunge with someone, something would hold him back. (A niggling, scared voice that reminded him of himself at 18 whispered how can you prove they won't brag, that they won't turn you into a joke once you're gone?)
Then along came Ace, incredible and bullheaded. And Ace brought with him something Marco didn't think he'd ever find. Ace with his fire and fiery personality. Ace with his whip-smart brain, with his incredible body, with his brighter-than-the-sun smile, with his flirty grins and heated looks. Ace brought hope.
(The voice would tell him Ace brought trouble.)
#AR writes#not your average blushing maiden#a zoan anatomy remix#probably gunna end it there because while I have ideas on where to go with this#I don't think I wanna write them tonight#probably pick this one up again on another day
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